the hour of ten
With this Roland bade Greusel good-night and turned away . He walked very slowly as far as the bridge , and there , resting his arms on the parapet , looked down at the dark water . He was astonished to realize how little he cared about giving up the Emperorship , and he recalled , with a glow of delight , his recent talk in the garden with Hildegunde , and her assurance that she lacked all ambition to become the first lady in the land so long as they two spent their lives together . The bells of Frankfort tolling the hour of ten aroused him from his reverie , and brought down his thoughts from delicious dreams of romance to realms of reality . The precious minutes were passing over his head swiftly as the drops of water beneath his feet . There was little use of feeding Frankfort if it must be given over to fire and slaughter . With a chill of apprehension he reviewed the cold treachery of Mayence , willing to levy the horrors of civil war upon an already stricken city so long as his own selfish purposes were attained .