the hour of ten
`` Your sincerely devoted friend , `` JERONYMO DURAS . '' While Nisida was occupied in the perusal of the first paragraph of this letter , dark clouds lowered upon her brow ; but as she read the second paragraph , wherein the salutary advice of the lawyers was conveyed to her , those clouds rapidly dispersed , and her splendid countenance became lighted up with joyous , burning , intoxicating hope ! It was evident that she had already made up her mind to adopt the counsel proffered her by the eminent advocates whom the friendly physician had consulted on her behalf . It was past the hour of ten on Saturday night , when a tall , powerfully built man emerged from what might be termed the fashionable portion of the city of Florence , and struck into the straggling suburb of Alla Croce . This quarter of the town was of marvelously bad reputation , being infested by persons of the worst description , who , by herding , as it were , together in one particular district , had converted the entire suburb into a sort of sanctuary where crime might take refuge , and into which the sbirri , or police-officers , scarcely dared to penetrate . The population of Alla Croce was not , however , entirely composed of individuals who were at variance with the law , for poverty as well as crime sought an asylum in that assemblage of forbidding-looking dwellings , which formed so remarkable a contrast with the marble palaces , noble public buildings , and handsome streets of the city of Florence itself . And not only did the denizens of penury and crushing toil , the artisans , the vine-dressers , the gardeners , the water-carriers , and the porters of Florence occupy lodgings in the suburb of Alla Croce , but even wealthy persons -- yes , men whose treasures were vast enough to pay the ransom of princes -- buried themselves and their hoards in this horrible neighborhood .