day after day passed , and in genoa , the noons were getting hotter , the outer roads getting deeper with white dust , the oleanders in the tubs along the wayside gardens looking more and more like fatigued holiday-makers , and the sweet evening sowing the paths with happy tinklings of mule-bells and thrumming of strings , light footsteps and voices ; while the encircling heights , crowned with forts , skirted with gardens , seemed to come forth in fullness of beauty after their long siesta , till all strong colour melted in the moonlight .