XXI

  It was dawn after that night of tragedy.

  From sheer exhaustion of passion the turmoil in the streets hadsubsided; the cries of indignant protest had ceased and the populaceaccepted their fate in sullen acquiescence, knowing themselves notstrong enough to contest without aid those intriguing Councillors of theRealm who were entrenched behind the impregnable fortress of Famagostawhere they held close captive the Sovereign they had sworn to defend andobey.

  The Piazza was deserted: the malcontents who had gathered to mutter atthe horror of the moat where the victims of the night had been tossedunburied, had been dispersed by threat of arms; the sentinels nodded attheir posts--scarce knowing whose power they were upholding, nor by whatname men called their masters. Here and there throughout the city, alittle knot of the graver burghers might be found lingering to discussthe situation in attitudes of helpless dejection, and scattering withtheir problems all unsolved. They were too insignificant to dread, andfor the moment the triumphant conspirators were content to leave thecity without further imposition or molestation to such rest as amerciful nature might vouchsafe.

  They were content to yield this lull in the storm, because it gave themneedful quiet in which to mature fresh intrigues, to insure theirtriumph. Those men of Venice of the Queen's household, who would moststrenuously have resisted them, had been quieted forever, it was true;but, as dawn lightened over the ghastly faces upturned beneath thewindows of the poor young Queen, an unconfessed tremor stole into thedoughty breasts of Rizzo and Fabrici, in the place where most men weartheir hearts, and they got them together, in friendly converse, toponder what should come next.

  For Venice was mightier than Naples--and the password they had sosuccessfully wielded for a night--"_a bas Venezia_"--might not sufficeto hold for the young Alfonso the dignity of _Prince of Galilee_, whichthey had proclaimed for him throughout the protesting city; it mighteven have a baneful ring, when news of the night's murders should reachthe Republic. A plausible reason for the death must be contrived andsent forward with letters signed by the Queen's own hand, under theRoyal Seal of Cyprus, accompanied with decorous lamentations andcondolences on the part of her Councillors--such as one Government iswont to offer to another at the death of any distinguished patrician.

  For the Chief of Council, Rizzo di Marin and his Grace the Archbishop ofNikosia, no rest was needful: the consciousness of triumph stirred theblood in their veins like strong wine, and with a sense of exhilarationsharpening all their intellectual faculties, they prepared, in a fewhours, work that might ordinarily have required the consideration ofdays. When they closed their conference they had contrived a sheaf ofpretty documents which did more honor to their astuteness than to theirloyalty, and which, with the signature of the Queen, would put them inpossession of all the strongholds on the coast and many positions ofvantage throughout the island, including the splendid city ofNikosia--which had shown much dangerous friendliness for Queen Caterina.It was a marvellous bold scheme--a bloodless victory for Alfonso, Princeof Naples; and Rizzo grew grimly merry as he discussed it with HisGrace.

  His malignant eyes rested fondly on this order for the surrender of thefamous stronghold of Cerines to a nephew of General Saplana, thetreacherous Commander of Famagosta; with two such fortresses they shouldcommand the coast, and their empire in Cyprus was assured. It was a workof genius, this little parchment--he could scarcely bear to fold it outof his sight in the pouch that he wore next to his heart of stone.

  And this--to the magnificent Lord Admiral Mutio di Costanzo, Vice-Roy ofNikosia and friend to Caterina, who had received her oath of allegianceafter the death of Janus--so high he stood among the nobles ofCyprus--Rizzo's eyes fairly gleamed as he gloated over it--this ordercommanding him to yield up the splendid city of Nikosia, with hisfortress of Costanza and the fleets of the island, to those who shouldpresent this parchment with the little signature of _Caterina Regina_.He, Rizzo, would take the governorship of this city of Nikosia--or,perhaps, the command of the fleets--he knew not which--that was a trifleto decide since all would be in his power: and of course he shouldinstantly re-man the galleys. He allowed himself a moment's vision ofthis stately Knight Mutio de Costanzo, with his escort ofcavaliers--the forty of his noble house entitled to wear the GoldenSpurs--surrendering his holdings at the Queen's command, to those whomRizzo should elect--_Rizzo_, who had heard himself called "that parvenuof Naples"--and the vision filled him with delight.

  Then he folded the other orders without a glance, they touched uponminor points of vantage and entered properly into his scheme--the citiesof Limisso and, perhaps, of Costanzo--but that might be requiring toomuch of the noble Lord of Costanzo, this could wait; he crumpled it inhis hand. As for this _Castel Dio d'Amore_, it was well.

  Still another paper he folded in his pouch. That one must go firstbeneath her signature lest the pretty little Queen should rebel.--Butshe should not rebel!--By all the saints and devils, it was a goodnight's work!

  And for that session he wrote no more.

  When the pouch, compact and hard, lay closely over the place of hisheart, it stirred a thought, and he laughed a short wild laugh, with nomelody in it. He did not know his own laugh, and it startled him.

  "Perhaps," he thought, "when he should have presided over theinvestiture of these cities and strongholds of Cyprus in the interestsof Naples and Alfonso, 'Prince of Galilee'--installing his own creaturesin all those places of power--if Naples were not properly subservientand grateful--he, _holding the key to the land_--perhaps----"

  It was a vision that pleased him even better than that of the noble LordMutio di Costanzo, surrounded by his escort of cavaliers,golden-spurred, delivering the keys of the city of Nikosia. But heforgot to confide this last tantalizing, supremest vision to His Gracethe Archbishop.

  These documents had been prepared in the underground Chamber ofConference of the Fortress, where secrets might be freely utteredbecause of the double walls of massive masonry: where flaring torchesfastened high in the chamber, scattered the ghostly shadows, and amplepotations of the fine wine of the "Commanderie" sustained their courage.

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, a slender figure with vizor down, showing a tunic of mailbetween the folds of a dark mantle, came out from the Fortress, andstepping forth into the gray of the dawn, crossed to the Palazzo Reale,with slow, uncertain footsteps.

  "Open!--In the name of the Queen's Council!"

  The words came in muffled tones from behind the vizor--uncertain, likethe footsteps, yet impossible to disregard.

  "The password for this night?" the guard demanded.

  It was given at once, but with visible repugnance--"_a bas Venezia!_"

  "Are ye many?"

  "But one."

  The bars were instantly drawn back and the young knight entered thefirst court of the palace.

  "Halt! Declare for whom thou standest. That password is already outworn:for they of the Queen's Council be of two minds."

  As if from a sense of suffocation the cloak was torn off showing a suitof armor too heavy for the slight limbs; and the helmet was loosenedwith supple, nervous fingers, disclosing a face pale, strong andsoulful. The face might have been that of a man--an artist, or a poet;but the hair, lying in loose, dusky waves about the brows, and low, inrich clinging coils at the back of the shapely head, could only belongto a woman.

  A sudden wrath flamed in her deep eyes.

  "If they of the Queen's Council be of two minds they are craven, thoughI, a woman say it! But the Queen's guard, in the Queen's palace, canhave but one mind--_to uphold her cause!_"

  There was no other voice in all Cyprus so tender, so compelling, somagnetic, so all-convincing; the voice revealed her.

  "Dama Margherita de Iblin!" was echoed about the court in surprise. Thenews spread. The men-at-arms came thronging about her with reiteratedassurances of loyalty; it was good to confess their faith to her.

  "We hold this palace for our Que
en," they said, "and for no traitorousCouncil. May the holy Saints in Heaven curse them roundly who forced usto do their bidding, when we thought ourselves serving Her Majesty!"

  "How came ye so many here?" she asked in astonishment, as they stillgathered from the farther courts--a number far greater than the usualPalace-guard--chiefly a company of knights and men entitled to beararms, but among them many of the more peaceful citizens.

  "Whom serve ye all?" She looked keenly from face to face: her wordsseemed a challenge.

  "Caterina Regina!" they cried in concert, with every man's right handupraised, calling Heaven to witness.

  One, with signs of authority stepped forward to explain.

  "Eccellenza, we are in command of the Lord Chamberlain Bernardini, who,since he fought his way through the false guard placed before thispalace to serve the treachery of the Council, hath not ceased to gathermen of metal throughout the city, till enough shall come to claim theQueen's release. For the cries of the women and unarmed weaklingsclamoring under the walls of the fortress for her release, are butimpotent wails to tickle the pride of those fiends of Naples."

  "Bring me to the Bernardini, for I must speak with him on matter, it maybe, of life, or death."

  "Eccellentissima, the Lord Chamberlain hath not stayed his foot sincethis horror began--nor may we see his face until he hath done thepossible to gather strength for an uprising to chase these devils ofNaples."

  "Dear men!" she cried, "it is a task!--I speak, not to stay your loyalhands, but to open your eyes that ye be prepared and fail not. TheCommander of Famagosta hath men and arms behind those impregnable walls,and all the wicked strength of his cunning Council to directthem,--Rizzo and Fabrici--masters in intrigue--and the men of thegalleys of Naples at the tower in the port, commanding land and sea.Without more force it is impossible!"

  "Dear Lady, the Bernardini lacketh no courage, and he commandeth. Hehath sworn that we shall save the Queen. The Admiral will come fromNikosia; and the galleys of Venice will haste to the rescue, _Pazienza!_We are bidden to keep the peace and secrecy until the moment shall beripe; but to die in defense of this palace, which we hold for HerMajesty as a place of refuge."

  "Dost bring us news of her. How fares it with Her Majesty?"

  "For that I came!" cried Dama Margherita, her voice ringing through thehall like a leader's call to arms; "to bring news of her to her own! Howshould it fare with a Queen made captive in her own stronghold?--With amother whose child hath been stolen from her?--With a woman strugglingwith such anguish?"

  "The Prince!--Our King! _Sanctissima Maria!_ San Marco confound theknaves!"

  Every man's hand sought his sword with a murmured oath of loyalty andvengeance. Questions stormed upon her: but she commanded silence with agesture.

  It was news indeed; no hint of it had passed beyond the walls of theFortress.

  "Of where he may be hidden, naught is known. Yet the galley of Napleslieth in our port, and one may reach it at low tide over the shallows--afew feet away from the tower of the Fort. It were easy to carry thechild there unseen."

  "Aye; it were easy--and not so hard to find him--if he were there."

  "Nay, but to hold him when found! Do it not rashly, lest harm come tohim. The Bernardini will plan the emprise. Tell him the Lady Margheritacame at risk of life--in this disguise--to put his true men on thequest. Tell him----"

  She was interrupted by an exclamation.

  "Margherita!--the Lady de Iblin--_thus!_"

  The Bernardini had just entered the court of the Palace.

  A vivid flush rose to her cheek, but she stood quite still in the placewhere he had found her, and he came and bent his knee and kissed herhand with the customary homage.

  "Else might I not have crossed the Piazza," she said, "nor left the gateof the Castle. It is easy to forfeit one's head at a moment of wrathwhere Rizzo commandeth! And one--a guard within the Fortress, friend toour cause unguessed of the Council--hath lent me this disguise that Imight bring thee my so weighty tidings of woe."

  "'So weighty tidings of woe?'" he echoed startled.

  "These will tell it thee," she went on hurriedly, "for I must bereturned to my chamber ere the change of guard--lest he be called onduty and fail to respond with this full toggery of steel, because hehath shown me this favor."

  "The Queen?" he gasped.

  "The Queen still liveth; but--oh, my Lord, Aluisi!"--her voice broke andher lips quivered, she stretched out her hands to him, the nervousfingers interlaced in a passion of pleading--"they have stolen thebaby-Prince: she will go mad if they keep him from her!"

  "They shall not!" he thundered with a terrible oath: he--whose speechwas fair as a woman's. "Tell her we pledge our lives to find him--tosave them both--_all these and many more_."

  With a gesture he included all the company.

  "Heaven hear us!" they swore in deep, angry, concert.

  She turned her face to them, a great light shining in her eyes.

  "I carry Her Majesty the strength of your loyalty, dear friends," shesaid. "The Madonna be praised--for her need is sore!"

  Then, quite silently, and as with a solemn act of consecration, she madethe sign of the Cross before the Leader who was to save the Queen, andwith quick footsteps passed under the peristyle.

  "Margherita!"

  She motioned him back as he would have followed her, and he stood andwatched her--his heart in his throat--until she had crossed the moat andbeen admitted to the Fort--the Lady Margherita--alone--in such aguise--fearless and direct as ever.

  * * * * *

  Sunrise was just gilding the sea: it flashed and sparkled as if therewere no woe.

 
Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull's Novels