CHAPTER XIV
There was consternation in little Omobono's face the next morning whenhe learnt that his master had gone out during the night, and had notcome home. The secretary would not believe it at first, and he wenthimself to Zeno's bedroom and saw that the couch had not been slepton; he could tell that easily, though it was not a bed but a narrowdivan covered with a carpet; for the two leathern pillows were notdisturbed, and the old dark red cloak which Zeno always used as acovering was neatly folded in its place. It had been with him throughthe long campaign in Greece, and he had the almost affectionateassociations with it which men of action often connect with objectsthat have served them well in dangerous times.
Zeno had not slept at home, and he had changed his clothes beforegoing out. Questioned by Omobono, Vito could not say with anycertainty what the master had put on; in fact, he could not tell atall. All the cloth hose and doublets and tunics were in their placesin the cedar wardrobes and chests of drawers, except those he hadtaken off, which lay on a chair. It looked, said the servant, as ifthe master had gone out without any clothes at all!
Omobono felt that if he had been a bigger man he would have boxed thefellow's ears for the impertinent suggestion. But it was not quitesafe, for the man was a big Venetian gondolier and sailor. Besides, ashe went on to explain, the master had often gone down to the marblesteps at dawn for a plunge and a swim, with nothing but a sheet roundhim, coming back to dress in his room. Perhaps he had done so now, andperhaps----
The man stopped short. Perhaps Zeno was drowned. He looked at Omobono,but the secretary shook his head, and pointed to the undisturbedcouch. Zeno would certainly not have gone out bathing before going tobed. Neither of them thought of looking into the small military trunkwhich stood in a dark corner, and from which Zeno had taken theleathern jerkin and stout hose which he had put on for the expedition.
Omobono had, of course, already questioned the slave-girls. They toldwhat they knew, that the master had supped upstairs, and had dismissedthem. When they came back to the room he was gone, they said; and thiswas true, since they had slept all night. The Kokona was now asleep,they added; but they did not say that she was sleeping dressed as shehad been on the previous evening, and looked very tired, for that wasnone of the secretary's business.
Omobono went up and down the stairs almost as often that morning as onthe day of Zoe's first coming, and again and again he instructed Yuliato call him when her mistress awoke. The answer was always the same:the Kokona was still asleep, and the secretary should be called assoon as she rose. At last he began to think that she, too, had leftthe house, and that the girls were in the secret, and he threatened togo in and see for himself. To his surprise Yulia stood aside to lethim pass, laying one finger on her lips as a warning to make no noise;for the little slave saw well enough that he suspected her of lying,and she was afraid of him in Zeno's absence. Seeing that she did notoppose him, he was convinced, and did not go in.
He would not send out messengers to ask for his master at the housesof the Venetian merchants, or at their places of business, for he hada true Italian's instinct to conceal from the outer world everythingthat happens in the house. Yet he found himself in a dilemma; for Zenohad invited Sebastian Polo, his wife and his daughter, and otherfriends to dinner, and they would come, and be amazed to find that hewas not there to receive them. Yet if word were sent to them not tocome, Zeno might return in time and be justly angry; and then he wouldcall the poor secretary something worse than a cackling hen. It was aterrible difficulty, and all the servants and slaves downstairs werechattering about it like magpies, except when the secretary was justpassing. The cook sent to ask whether he was to prepare the dinner.
'Certainly,' answered Omobono. 'The master is no doubt gone out onpressing business, and will be back in plenty of time to receive hisfriends.'
He tried to speak calmly, poor man, but he was in a terrible stew.Anxiety had brought out two round red spots on his grey cheeks; foronce his trim beard was almost ruffled, and his small round eyes werehaggard and bloodshot.
As the time for the arrival of the guests drew near, he felt his brainreeling, and the rooms whirled round him, till he felt that theuniverse was going raving mad, and that he was in the very centre ofit. Still Zoe slept, and still the master did not come.
At last there was but half an hour left. Omobono strained every nervehe possessed, and determined to meet the tremendous difficulty in away that should elicit Zeno's admiration. He would receive the ladiesand gentlemen as major-duomo, he would make an excuse for his master,he would instal them in their places at table, and would direct theservice. Of the cook and the cellar the little man felt quite sure,and that was a great consolation in his extremity. If he gave Zeno'sfriends of the best, and made a polite apology, and saw that nothingwent wrong, it would be impossible to ask more of him or to suggestthat he had failed in his duty. When the guests were gone he would goto bed and have an attack of fever; of that he felt quite sure, butthen the terrible ordeal would be over, and it would be a relief tolie on his back and feel very ill.
He retired and dressed himself in his best clothes. His cloth hosewere of a dark wine colour, but were now a little loose for his legs.He looked at them affectionately as he examined them in the light.They recalled many cheerful hours and some proud moments; theyremembered also the days when his little legs had not been so thin.Yet by pulling them up almost to the tearing point they lost in widthwhat they gained in length, and made a very good appearance after all,for he secured them by an ingenious contrivance of belt and string. Itwas true that when he walked he felt as if he were being lifted fromthe floor by the back of his waistband, but that only made him feel alittle taller than he was, and forced him to hold himself verystraight, which was a distinct advantage.
Now in all this trouble it never occurred to him that his master wasin any great danger or trouble, much less that he might have beenkilled in some mad adventure. Carlo Zeno had lived through suchdesperate perils again and again, that Omobono had formed the habit ofbelieving him to be indestructible, if not invulnerable, and sure tofall on his feet whatever happened. The secretary only wished he wouldnot choose to disappear on the very day when he had asked five friendsto dine with him.
Omobono stood in his fine clean shirt and his wine-coloured hose,combing and smoothing his beard carefully with the help of a littlemirror no bigger than the bottom of a tumbler. The glass was indeed sosmall that he could only get an impression of his whole face by movingthe thing about, from his chin to his nose, from one cheek to theother, and from his forehead to his thin throat, round which headmired the neatly fitting line of the narrow linen collar. But thislast effort required a good deal of squinting, for the point of hisbeard was in the way.
While he was thus engaged some one tapped at his door, and a smallvoice informed him that Kokona Arethusa was now awake, and wished tosee him instantly. Though the door was not opened by the speaker,Omobono hastily laid down his glass and his comb, and struggled intohis tunic as if his life depended on his getting it on before heanswered; for he was a very modest man, and the voice was a girl's;moreover, he was aware that the device of belt and strings by whichhis hose were drawn up so very tightly must present a ridiculousappearance until covered by his over-garment; then, however, theeffect would be excellent. So he got on his tunic as fast as he could,and then answered with the calmness of perfectly restored dignitythrough the closed door.
'Tell the Kokona that I am at her service,' he said; 'and that I shallbe with her immediately.'
'Yes, sir,' said the small voice, and he heard the girl's retreatingfootsteps immediately after she had spoken.
A few moments later he was going up the stairs as fast as thetremendous tension of his hose would allow, and as he went hereflected with satisfaction that as major-duomo he could not by anypossibility be called upon to sit down in the presence of his master'sguests.
One of the slave-girls ushered him into Zoe's presence. The latter wasseated on the e
dge of the divan, looking anxiously towards the doorwhen he entered, and for the first time since she had been in thehouse he saw her face uncovered. It was very pale, and there were deepshadows under her eyes. Her beautiful brown hair was in wild disorder,too, and fell in a loosened tress upon one shoulder. The hand thatrested on the edge of the divan strained upon a fold of the delicatesilk carpet that covered the couch. She spoke as soon as Omobonoappeared.
'Have you heard from him?' she asked anxiously. 'Is he coming?'
It did not seem strange to the secretary that she should already knowof Zeno's absence, since no one in the house could think or talk ofanything else. On his part he was resolved to maintain the calmdignity becoming to the major-duomo of a noble house.
'The master will doubtless come home when he has finished the urgentbusiness that called him away,' he answered. 'In his absence, it willbe my duty to make excuses to his guests----'
'Are they coming? Have you not sent them word to stay away?'
Omobono smiled in a sort of superiorly humble way.
'And what if the master should return just at the hour of dinner?' heasked. 'What would he say if I had ventured to take upon myself such aresponsibility? The Kokona does not know the master! Happily I havebeen in his service too long not to understand my duty. If it pleaseshim to come home, he will find that his friends have been entertainedas he desired. If he does not come, he will be glad to learnafterwards that the proper excuses were offered to them for hisunavoidable absence, and that they were treated with the honour due totheir station.'
Zoe stared at the secretary, really amazed by his calmness, andalmost reassured by his evident belief in Zeno's safety. It was truethat he knew nothing of the facts, and had not seen his master hangingby the end of a rope, fifty feet above the ground, within twelvehours. It would have been hard to imagine Omobono's state of mind ifhe had spent the night as Zoe had. But nevertheless his assurancerested her, and restored a little of her confidence in Zeno's goodfortune. Of his courage and his strength she needed not to bereminded; but she knew well enough that unless chance were in hisfavour, he could never leave Blachernae except to die.
'Do you really think he is safe?' Zoe asked, glad to hear thereassuring words, even in her own voice.
'Of course, Kokona----'
But at this moment the sound of oars in the water, and of severalvoices talking together, came up through the open window from thelanding below.
All Omobono's excitement returned at the thought that he might not getdown the stairs in time to receive the guests at the marble steps justas the boats came alongside. Without another word he turned and fledprecipitately.
Zoe had heard the voices too, and had understood; and, in spite of heranxiety, a gentle smile at the secretary's nervousness flitted acrossher tired face. The two slave-girls had run to the window to see whowas coming, and as they had always been told not to show themselves atwindows, they crouched down in the balcony and looked through theopen-work of marble which formed the parapet.
Zoe rose to cross the room. In the first rush of memory that came withwaking, she had almost forgotten that she had been hurt, and now shebit her lip as the pain shot down her right side. But she smiledalmost instantly. She would rather have been hurt unawares by the manshe loved, than that he should not have touched her at the very momentof going into danger. The memory of his crushing weight upon her forthat instant was something she would not part with. Women know whatthat is. She thought how tenderly he would have stooped to kiss her,if he had known that she was lying there under the canvas. Instead, hehad stepped upon her body; and it was almost better than a kiss, forthat would have left nothing of itself; but now each movement thathurt her brought him close to her again.
She had received no real injury, but she limped as she walked to thewindow. Then she stood still just within it, where she could not seedown to the steps below, but could talk with the slave-girls in awhisper. Doubtless, since Zeno had not wished her to be seen, shewould not have shown herself; but she was quite conscious that shelooked ill and tired, and by no means fit to face a rival who had beendescribed to her as fresher than spring roses; so that the sacrificewas, after all, not so great as it might have been.
'Tell me what you see,' she said to the maids.
Lucilla turned up her sallow little face.
'There are three,' she answered. 'There is a Venetian lord, and hislady, and a young lady. At least, I suppose she is young.'
'Tell me what you see,' she said to the maids.]
'I should think you could see that,' Zoe said.
'Her face is veiled,' Lucilla replied, after peering down; 'but I cansee her hair. It is red, and she has a great deal of it.'
'Red like Rustan's wife's hair?' asked Zoe.
'Oh no! It is red like a lady's; for it is well dyed with the goodkhenna that comes from Alexandria. Now they are getting out--the oldlady first--she is fat--the secretary and her husband help her on eachside. She is all wrapped in a long green silk mantle embroidered withred roses. She is like a dish of spinach in flames. How fat she is!'
Lucilla shook a little, as if she were laughing internally.
'What does her daughter wear?' asked Zoe.
'A dark purple cloak, with a broad silver trimming.'
'How hideous!' exclaimed Zoe, for no particular reason.
'The secretary bows to the ground,' Lucilla said. 'He is sayingsomething.'
She stopped speaking, and all three listened. Zoe could hear Omobono'svoice quite distinctly.
'By a most unfortunate circumstance,' he was saying, 'Messer CarloZeno was obliged to go out on very urgent business, and has not yetreturned. I am his secretary and major-duomo, as your lordship maydeign to remember. In my master's absence I have the honour to welcomehis guests, and to wait upon them.'
Sebastian Polo said something in answer to this fine speech; but in alow tone, and Zoe could not hear the words. Then a peculiarlydisagreeable woman's voice asked a question. Zoe thought it soundedlike something between the croaking of many frogs and the clucking ofan old hen. 'We hope you will give us our dinner, whatever happens,'said the lady, who seemed to be of a practical turn of mind.
'Is that the girl's voice?' asked Zoe of Lucilla, in a whisper.
The maid shook her head.
'The mother,' she answered. 'Now they are going in. I cannot hear whatOmobono says, for he is leading the way. They are all gone.'
Zoe did not care who else came, and now that the moment was over shewas much less disturbed by the fact that Giustina was under the sameroof with her than she had expected to be. She did not believe thatZeno had ever kissed Giustina, and he had certainly never stepped onher.
She let her maids do what they would with her now, hardly noticing theskill they showed in helping her to move, and in smoothing away thepain she felt, as only the people of the East know how to do it. Asshe did not speak to them they dared not ask her questions about themaster's absence. They had left him with her when they had been sentaway; they had slept till morning; when they awoke they had found Zoelying on the divan asleep in her clothes, and the master had gone outof the house unseen and had not returned. That was as far as theirknowledge went; but they were sure that she knew everything, and theyhoped that if they pleased her even more than usual she would let fallsome words of explanation, as mistresses sometimes do when theirservants are particularly satisfactory. Most young women, when theyare in a good humour, let their maids know what they have been doing;and as soon as they are cross the maids revenge themselves by tellingthe other servants everything. In this way the balance of power ismaintained between the employer and the employed, like the hydrostaticequilibrium in the human body, which cannot be destroyed withoutbringing on a syncope.
But though Zoe felt very much less pain after Yulia and Lucilla hadbathed her and rubbed her, and had gently pulled at all her jointstill she felt supple and light again, she said nothing about Zeno; andthough they dressed her so skilfully that she could not help smiling
with pleasure when they showed her to herself in the large mirror theyheld up between them, yet she only thanked them kindly, and gave themeach two spoonfuls of roseleaf preserve, which represented to them analmost heavenly delight, as she well knew, and which she herself didnot at all despise. That was all, however; and they were a littledisappointed, because she did not condescend to talk to them about themaster's disappearance, which was the greatest event that had happenedsince they had all three lived under Zeno's roof.
Meanwhile Omobono was playing his part of major-duomo downstairs, andhad installed the guests at the table set for them in the large halllooking over the Golden Horn. After Polo and his wife, anotherVenetian merchant had arrived, the rich old banker Marin Corner, longestablished in Constantinople, and a friend of Sebastian Polo. Thefifth person invited did not appear, so that two seats were vacant,the sixth being Zeno's own; and behind his high carved chair Omobonoinstalled himself, to direct the servants, quite an imposing figure inhis dark purple tunic and the handsome silver chain, which he had puton to-day to indicate his high office in the establishment. PoorOmobono! He little dreamt of what was in store for him that day.
The three older guests were moderately sorry that Zeno was notpresent. In their several ways they were all a little afraid of theireccentric countryman, about whom the most wild tales were told. Thoughin truth he was extremely punctual in meeting his financialengagements, both Sebastian Polo and Marin Corner had always felt alittle nervous about doing business with a young man who was known tohave kept an army at bay for a whole winter, who was reported to haveslain at least a hundred Turks with his own hand, and whose brown eyesgleamed like a tiger's at the mere mention of a fight. It would be soextremely awkward if, instead of meeting a bill that fell due, heshould appear at Corner's bank armed to the teeth and demand thecontents of the strong box. On the whole the two elderly merchants atewith a better appetite in his absence.
But Giustina was inconsolable, and the good things did not appeal toher, neither the fresh sturgeon's roe from the Black Sea, nor thenoble palamit, nor the delicate quails, nor even the roasted peacock,whose magnificent tail rose out of a vast silver dish like a rainbowwith spots on it.
She was a big, sleepy creature with quantities of handsomely dyedhair, as Lucilla had told Zoe. She had large and regular features, aperfectly colourless white skin, and a discontented mouth. She oftenturned her eyes to see what was going on, without turning her head atall, as if she were too lazy to make even that small effort. Her handswere well shaped, but heavy in the fingers, and they looked like newmarble, too white to be interesting, too cold to touch.
She was terribly disappointed and deeply offended by what seemed toher a deliberate insult; for she did not believe a word of Omobono'spolite apology. The truth was that Zeno had only invited the partybecause her mother had invited herself in the hope of bringing him tothe point of offering to marry Giustina. As a matter of fact nothinghad ever been farther from his thoughts. Sebastian Polo, urged by hiswife, had entered into the closest relations of business with Zeno,and had again and again given him a share in transactions that hadbeen extraordinarily profitable. He had rendered it necessary for Zenoto see him often, and had made it easy by his constant hospitality; inthese things lay the whole secret of Zeno's visits to his house. Butseeing that matters did not take a matrimonial direction as quickly asshe had expected, Polo's wife had adopted a course which she intendedto make decisive; she had asked herself and her daughter to dine withZeno. From this to hinting that he had compromised Giustina, andthence to extracting an offer of marriage, would be easy steps,familiar to every enterprising mother, since the beginning of thematrimonial ages. And that was a long time ago--even before Solomon'sday, when the horseleech's two daughters cried, 'Give, give!' Zeno'svalue as a possible husband lay less in his fortune than in his verymagnificent connections at home, and in the fact that the EmperorCharles had been his godfather and afterwards his friend and patron.
Giustina understood her thoughtful parent's policy; she was thereforeunhappy, and would eat no peacock, a circumstance which greatlydistressed Omobono. Happily for him, the young woman's abstention wasfully compensated by the readiness of the elder guests to partake ofwhat she obstinately refused, even to something like repletion.
While they ate, they talked; that is to say, Sebastian Polo and MarinCorner compared opinions on business matters such as the value ofPersian silks, Greek wines, and white slaves, without giving away toeach other the least thread of information that could be turned intomoney. And Polo's wife, who had an eye to the main chance, croaked afew words now and then, encouraging Corner to talk more freely of hisaffairs; perhaps, thought she, he might betray the secret of hiswonderful success in obtaining from the Caucasus certain pricelessfurs which no merchant but he had ever been able to get. But thoughthe fat dame lured him on to talk and made signs to have his glassfilled again and again with Chian wine, and though the colours of amost beautiful sunset began to creep up his thin nose and his highcheek bones, as the rich evening light climbs in the western sky,Marin Corner's speech was as quiet and clear as ever, and what he saidwas, if anything, a trifle more cautious than before.
And meanwhile Giustina stared across her empty plate at the boats onthe Golden Horn, and nursed her wrath against the man she wished tomarry.
'My child,' croaked her mother, 'we fully understand yourdisappointment. But you should make an effort to be cheerful, if onlyfor the sake of Messer Marin Corner, your father's valued friend.'
'I beg you to excuse my dulness, Madam,' answered the daughterdutifully, and with all the ceremony that children were taught to usein addressing their parents. 'I shall endeavour to obey you.'
'Come, come, Donna Giustina!' cried Corner. 'We will drink your healthand happiness in this good----'
The sentence remained unfinished, and his lips did not close; as heset down the untasted wine, his eyes fixed themselves on a pointbetween Omobono and Polo, and the sunset effects faded from his nose,leaving a grey twilight behind.
The fat dame thought it was an apoplexy, and half rose from her seat;but Giustina's eyes followed the direction of his look and she uttereda cry of real fear. Sebastian Polo, who sat with his back to the sightthat terrified his daughter, gazed at the other three in astonishment.But Omobono turned half round and gasped, and seized the back ofZeno's empty chair, swinging it round on one of its legs till it wasbetween him and the vision.
Tocktamish stood there, grinning at the assembled company in a way toterrify the stoutest heart amongst them. He was magnificently arrayedin his full dress uniform of flaming yellow and gold, and his hugeround fur papakh was set well back on his shaggy head. His right handtoyed amidst a perfect arsenal of weapons in his belt, and hisblood-shot eyes rolled frightfully as he looked from one guest to theother, showing his shark's teeth as he grinned and grinned again.
It was certainly Tocktamish, the Tartar; and Tocktamish was notperfectly sober. He was the more pleased by the impression hisappearance had produced. He at once came forward to the empty place ofthe absent guest, which was next to Giustina's.
'I see that you have kept a place for me,' he said in barbarous Greek.'That was very kind of you! And I am in time for the peacock, too!'
Thereupon he sat down in the chair, looked round the table, andgrinned again.
The fat lady collapsed in a fainting fit, the two elderly merchantsedged away from the board as far as they could, and Giustina utteredanother piercing shriek when the Tartar leered at her.
'Who is this person?' her father tried to ask with dignity, meaningthe question for Omobono.
But Omobono had vanished, and the servants had fled after him.