XV
It was a moonless night in June, with lowering clouds and a threat ofdistant thunder echoing from the far mountains.
A crowd was gathering, low-voiced and eager, in the Piazza San Nicolo: acrowd chiefly of the people, and the faces and costumes of many racescame out grotesquely under the spasmodic glare of the torches whichflared about the standard of Cyprus, in the centre of the square--thestandard was tied with mourning and wreathed with cypress. There weremany women--here and there a peasant with a child slumbering in herarms, or clinging sleepily to the tawny silk scarf woven under her ownmulberry trees. Here and there, with the fitful motion of the wind, thelight touched the fair hair of a chance peasant from the province of _LaKythrea_ into gleams of gold that a Venetian patrician might envy, orbrought into sudden relief the smothered passion of some beautiful, darkGreek face. But the women were chiefly of the lower Cypriotepeasant-type, heavy-featured and unemotional. There was a sprinkling ofmonkish cowls and of the red fez from the Turkish village of Afdimouwhich lay in seeming friendliness of relation close to the village ofOrmodos, whose population was wholly Greek.
In front of the long facade of the palace of Famagosta a cordon ofsoldiers stood motionless, while before them the mounted guard pacedslowly to and fro; and across the Piazza, with that impatient, surgingcrowd between, was faintly heard the steady footfall of the sentinels,measuring and remeasuring with unemotional precision their narrow beatbefore the entrance to the world-famed fortress of Famagosta.
A group of nobles in eager, low-voiced converse crossed the square,pressed through the cordon of soldiers and gave the password and thegreat door was opened to admit them and closed again.
Two burghers picked out a face among them, as the torches of theirescorts flared.
"That was Marin Rizzo, Counsellor to the Queen; a man ofpower--unscrupulous."
"And more a friend--I have heard it whispered in Nikosia--to Naples thanto Cyprus."
"Hast evidence for thy speech?" the other questioned eagerly in a lowertone.
"It is for that we must watch; the time is threatening."
"But Messer Andrea Cornaro was with him: he will know how to guard theinterests of the Queen, having been so great a favorite with our Janus,and one for management, despite his courtly ways! Without our MesserAndrea, his niece had never been our Queen."
"Nay--nor if His Holiness had had his will. I had the tale from a sourceto trust, though the story was kept hushed. It would take one like ourJanus, with his royal ways, to scorn the flattering offers of HisHoliness! There were also threats!"
"Nay; threats would never move him, except to see the comedy thereof andmake his mood the pleasanter! But I had not dreamed him saint enough forthe Holy Father to sue to him for an alliance."
"Ah, friend, the ways of those above us be strange! But it was for this,I take it, that His Holiness--who hath a temper most uncommonearthly--sent none to represent him at the Coronation of the King."
The other shrugged his shoulders. "It lacked for naught in splendor; itwas a day for Cyprus and for Nikosia."
"_Vanitas Vanitatum_," droned a friar of the Latin Church who had beenstanding near enough to catch echoes of their speech.
Both men glanced towards him and instinctively moved away.
"Aye; little it matters now--coronation honors or splendors for him! Buthe had a way with him!"
"And he was one for daring!"
They crossed themselves and lapsed into silence, as their eyes soughtthe banners drooping, shrouded, before the palace-gates, near the statueof their dead King--a very Apollo for beauty--the pedestal heaped highwith withered tokens of loyalty and mourning.
But the mass of the waiting crowd were silent, scarcely exchanging awhispered confidence;--so still that the long, low boom of the surf uponthe shore reached them distinctly, like a responsive heart-throb. Theycould hear the storm-waves outside the port dashing wildly against therock-bound coast, with fierce suggestions of strife. But they knew thatwithin their sheltered harbor their waiting galleys rode at anchor,ready to sail at a moment's notice--for Venice, for Rome, forEgypt--though the flags they bore were still at half-mast, with theirKing but a month dead.
There was a sense of suppressed excitement in the hush of the throng;almost, one might have said, an atmosphere of prayer. For the great bellof San Nicolo--the bell with that wonderful voice of melody--was ringingsoftly, as for vespers; continuously, as if the people had not answeredto the call. Yet many a low-voiced "Ave" responded to the chime as nowand again some toil-worn hand lifted the rosary that hung from a girdle,or clasped a rude cross closer.
Restless under the chiming, some simple mother who had fought for herplace in the crowd before the palace, deep in her heart besought theblessed Madonna to forgive her because she would not yield it to kneelat the altar in the Duomo; while leaning over the little one slumberingon her breast, she kissed it with a meaning holy as prayer, and did notdream that the angels were watching.
The only steady light in all the square was the soft gleam, as ofmoonlight, streaming through the windows of the Duomo out into the mist,and here and there among the crowd some face turned towards it and washeartened.
For back of the splendid marble columns of the peristyle, when the lightfrom some torch flashed suddenly upon their polished surfaces, the longlines of palace-windows lay dark; and it was growing late.
"They say that the holy sisters keep vigil this night in the Convent ofthe Blessed Santa Croce," murmured a woman's voice.
"Aye," another answered her reverently, "for the love of Santa Elena andthe Holy Relic, they will bless our beautiful Lady!"
The theme unsealed their peasant tongues, for this relic brought fromthe East by the Mother of Constantine, was the glory of Cyprus, andtheir speech flowed more freely.
"The most Reverend our Archbishop should send for that Santa Croce inprocession, to bring it hither--for truly it can do anything!" anotherwoman cried eagerly. She crossed herself and bowed devoutly as shespoke. "For all the world knoweth that once, when it had been lost andthe good pater would prove if he had really found it, he held it in theheart of the fire until it glowed like the very flame itself. But whenhe drew it forth, it was burned not at all--_Santissima Vergine!_--butwood as before--being too holy to burn. A miracle! And then----"
"I also know the miracle about Queen Alixe," another woman interposed,eager to show her knowledge of the marvel of the Relic, "for my sisterdwelleth by the gate of the Convent of the Troodos, and she hath muchlearning of the most blessed Relic;--how that Queen Alixe laid the biton her tongue--she who could never speak fairly--more like a blockheadof a stammering peasant than a Royal lady--may Heaven forgive me! Andhow for ever after, her speech flowed freely, so that all mightunderstand her. It must be good to be in Cyprus."
"Holy Mother! but it should be lonely in the great palace," a youngpeasant-mother confided to her nearest neighbor, as she shifted the babyto her other arm and arranged her wrappings tenderly, with hands thatlooked too rough for such loving ministration. She was thinking of herGioan who would be waiting for her with a gruff greeting when shereturned, but who was good to her, if he often scolded when the porridgewas burned. But men were that way about women's work, and never knewthat an angel would forget when the baby cried. "_But_ she was growingheavy, blessed be the Madonna! Why wasn't there a light?--It would begood if one might sleep!"
A mounted messenger came out from the fort and dashed across the square;the crowd holding breath, parting silently before him, but surgingtumultuously back, to wait--though they were very weary and the shiftingclouds were dropping rain. But there were yet no lights in the palacewindows.
It was growing darker and the wind was rising; a quick flurry of dropsextinguished some of the torches, and in the greater gloom the voice ofthe wind wailed like an evil omen. But still the women would notgo--waiting for that sign of _the light in the palace windows_.
Only they pressed closer to each other and crossed themselves in terror,with
smothered ejaculations and adjurations, shuddering from thesuperstitions that enthralled their simple natures; for at this season,in Cyprus rain was most unwonted, surely a sign of Heaven's displeasure!Still they waited in the darkness of the night, with shivering hearts,with the wind growling like angry fiends out beyond the harbor and downfrom the environing hills--upheld to this costly tribute of devotion bythe dumb, dog-like loyalty which their beautiful young Queen had rousedwithin them, by a smile on her wedding-day and the sorrow that hadquenched it.
"It is good, _va_, to see the light in the Duomo! There is many a goodcandle burning for her at the shrine of Our Lady of Mercy, this night."
"An' there were none for ourselves, we should find one for her!"
"Not a woman of our _casal_ but held a candle in her hand as we came inat the gate of the city; for the silkworms have given us silk and enoughto spin this year; and if they had not, we would not grudge it to her.For she hath a smile like an angel. May our Holy Mother bless her forthem both."
"And beautiful--beautiful so that it warms the heart! Dost thou rememberthe day when she came out of the Duomo, beautiful as the Madonnaherself--may our Blessed Lady in Heaven forgive me!--with a necklace anda crown flashing fire, that our Holy Mother of Jesus might wear on theFeast of the Annunciation?--and the smile on her face?--and the Kingbeside her----? Ah, but it was a wedding--Holy Saints!--and they oughtto be happy--the great ones!"
"Hush then!--But surely 'tis a sin that they left the mourning upon thebanner to-night, one should have more respect! If I could get into theDuomo for a drop of Holy water--Sancta Maria!"
But the crowd had swelled to hopeless density, and both women threw outtheir hands with the magical gesture that never failed to exorcise theevil spirits brought near by such an omen. Then they touched each otherreassuringly, and crossed themselves and were silent again.
For a beautiful Greek, not of their own class, stepped out from hergroup of attendants, and knelt on the pavement, stretching out her handstowards the dark palace with a prayer--they could hear hermurmuring,--"For _her_ sake--for the sake of the innocent one who hathbeen wronged--Holy Mother of Angels, grant us one of her blood to rulethis land!"
Her heavy veil of mourning fell aside as she hastily rose and joined herattendants, disappearing in the crowd.
"Madama da Patras! Could it be Madama da Patras, mother to the King,kneeling on the pavement in the night!"
"Her heart is broken with grief, and she thought not to be seen, poorlady."
Two nobles were wending their way with difficulty across the Piazza,they lingered a moment, arrested by the words of the prayer.
"This night may make the difference between anarchy and peace forCyprus," one of them said to his companion, as they resumed theirstruggle.
"Aye--Cyprus for the Cypriotes,--instead of Genoa, or Venice, orNaples."
"Or Queen Carlotta?"
"_Maledetto!--Who spoke?_"
But the challenge was unanswered. The noble who had dared to name aloudthe daughter of their last Queen--the sister of their late King--hadbeen lost in the darkness before the trusty guard, _sent from Venice_,could make sure of him.
"The fellow should be thrust through for his insolence. A Cyprian masteris good enough for Cyprus," they confided to each other, as they madepause again, emerging from the crowd at the other end of the piazza,before the gate of the fortress.
"What matters it?" his comrade answered him nonchalantly, "for canstthou tell me the color of a Cypriote now? and his native tongue may beliker that of Spain or Venice than of France or Greece. My Lord ofPiscopia hath the color of Venice."
"But of the very household of our Queen:--speak soft! OurQueen?--Perchance this night may be her undoing--how runs King Giacomo'swill? Yea, for the matter of the fiefs, she hath been royal with hergifts--a matter not so lordly when confiscation cometh thus easily."
"But she hath a royal way with her, as of one born to the throne, andfor that matter it were not strange for one of the house ofCornelii--they held their heads proudly enough in Venice, I am told; andher mother was of the blood of a Comnenus--more royal than a Lusignan,if not so well tempered."
"Aye; she is well enough."
"And she hath a grace that hath verily won the people; never was theresuch a crowd in the time of any other Queen. See how they throng beforeher gates to-night--poor simple souls--conquered by a smile thatcosteth naught."
"Nay; it is not strange; for the people entered little into the thoughtof Queen Carlotta, or Queen Elena. There is no harm in her; she is agood child, and beautiful enough to be a saint; with too littleunderstanding of the ways of our court: too great a saint for Janus--byevery blessed saint of Cyprus! But I had rather she had more earthlinessand wile than be the pawn of Venice. A Cyprian for the Cypriotes! OurJanus were better;--a Lusignan--not too much a saint--not a child nor awoman neither--but masterful: less the pawn of Venice."
"As well of Venice with her fleets and commerce, as of Naples--if it benot a Cyprian. How sayest thou? And it was King Janus himself who gavePelendria--that most royal and bountiful fief of a prince ofLusignan--into the hands of that parvenu of Naples, _Rizzo_! The Kingverily guessed not his quality when he named him to such estate! Hewould outrule monarchs."
"_Pace!_"
Close to them, in the crowd, they heard the sound of a soldier's lancerasping the pavement as he stood at rest. One not far off seemed toanswer his signal.
The storm was growing fiercer; the sullen mutterings of the wind brokeinto a shriek, with a terrible downpour of rain; but the rushing crowdwas stayed by a cry of joy that rose above the tumult--a cry of lovefrom the heart of the people--
"Mater Beatissima! _A light in the palace window!_"
A candle flamed in a dark window--two--more--a light in every casement!
The gates of the palace were thrown wide and a splendid mounted corpsrode forth amidst a flare of torches--white plumes of rejoicing wavingfrom their casques--white banners raised high on the points of theirlances--while the herald, in full armor with vizor up, bore proudlybefore the people the silken banner with the arms of Cyprus blazonedupon it--the white, royal banner of a Prince of Galilee.
The waiting people went wild with joy, for the bells of all the churchesof Famagosta were pealing a jubilee, and the night rang with shouts ofhomage for the Prince of Galilee, the heir to the crown of Cyprus:
For an infant prince had just opened his unconscious eyes upon histroubled earthly heritage.