The Royal Pawn of Venice

  XXXIV

  "A confidential communication of deep import to Cyprus--so thou come atonce, and alone. 'The Prisoner in the Castle.'"

  The Signor Aluisi Bernardini read the note a second time with frowningbrows, for there was more than one prisoner, even of this recentconspiracy, in the castle, and the hand was disguised or unknown to him,and he could but guess at the identity of the sender of this mysteriousmessage, which had been brought him, quite openly, by one of the castleguards.

  The man stood waiting at the door of his study, until he called to him:

  "Thou hast a message for me from----?"

  "The Dama Ecciva de Montferrat, Eccellentissimo," the messengeranswered, readily.

  "Deliver it."

  "I was to remind your Excellency that the galley will sail to-morrow forVenice--if your Excellency should have despatches--the Dama deMontferrat feared that it might not be known beyond the castle."

  "Is this known within the castle and by order of the Castellan?"Bernardini asked quickly, in surprise.

  "Eccellentissimo, the word came to me by the Dama de Montferrat, inconfidence. I have no other message."

  The Bernardini pondered a moment. She had meant him to feel that thecase was urgent, for no hint of the immediate sailing of the prisoner'sgalley for Venetian waters had yet reached him, who was usually foremostin any information that touched upon Venetian interests. It might be aruse, or a mere plausible excuse to her messenger.

  "Is there aught else in which I may serve the Dama de Montferrat?" theBernardini asked with assumed nonchalance, partly to gain time to decideupon his own course of action, yet hoping to throw some little lightupon the mystery.

  "It is written in the note. Doth your Excellency bid me return alone?"

  The man's manner was insistent: he had been shown a jewel of value thatshould be his if he brought the Bernardini back with him, and suchfidelity as might thus be purchased, Dama Ecciva could count upon.

  "Nay: I follow," the Bernardini answered, waving him on before,--"yetnot too closely. At the castle wait for me."

  "Of deep import to Cyprus," he repeated to himself, as he made his wayacross the breadth of the city to the citadel: he was alone save for hishorse, who often brought him a sense of almost human companionship, andto-day the responsive quiver of the animal, as his master laid acaressing touch upon his arched neck, gave him an assurance of fidelitythat was helpful. For the matter of this conspiracy had sorely wroughtupon him and he might not ignore such a message, though it came from oneso unreliable as Dama Ecciva, for she was surely in touch with thedisaffected nobles. It might be a new conspiracy--yet it was more likelya mere whim, or an attempt to get her sentence remitted--poor girl!

  But he felt no emotion of compassion towards her, save for herduplicity, as he was conducted to the apartment which the Queen had hadprepared in the castle for her young prisoner of State. By the Queen'sgrace, also, the Countess of Montferrat occupied the royal apartmentunder the same roof and was permitted at certain hours, to visit herdaughter, though never without surveillance. But for one so high inauthority as the Bernardini there were no restrictions and he soon stoodconfronting the Dama Ecciva in a small cabinet, which by the Queen'smercy had little the aspect of a prison; for she had thought of themother, as she gave her orders for the prisoner's comfort, and of thelast days that she and her daughter might spend together in their nativeland, and her tender heart had overflowed to them; there were evenflowers from the royal gardens, and the air was fragrant; but in DamaEcciva's manner there was no softening change.

  "So your Excellency hath even deigned to respond to the request of a_prisoner_?" she exclaimed by way of greeting, and lingering with alittle mocking pretense on the last word.

  "If it be within my power----" he began tentatively.

  "Promise not too rashly, my Lord Chamberlain, lest I hold thee to thyword," she answered lightly. "For I shall ask naught of thee that is notwithin thy sole power to grant. If I ask thee aught--yet I know not ifI will:--methinks my mood hath changed."

  He was dumb as he looked at her--within a few hours of perpetualbanishment she stood before him, brilliant, inconsequent, carefullydressed in her usual fanciful garb--the very jessamines in her hairlusciously over-sweet--with no hint of regret in face or manner--her oldfire-fly self.

  "Our time is short, Dama Ecciva," he reminded her at length, when shehad chosen a cushioned corner and sat toying with a bunch of wildorchids--seemingly forgetful of his presence, as of her summons. "We arealone: and if thou hast a confidence to make--'of import to theState'----"

  "The time is long enough for our needs, Eccellentissimo," she retorted,with a rippling laugh. "Verily, I like these wild blooms better than HerMajesty's choice favorites--this orchid hath a face well-nigh human--butoverwise; I scarce need tell it--as to thee--that the sailing of thegalley was my device to bring thee quickly."

  He bit his lip to hold back his impatient speech, for she might not bedealt with as other women, by any appeal to trust or reason.

  "Wherefore 'quickly'," he answered her, "since there is time?"

  She looked up in surprise at having missed the expected reproof forwhich she was already fashioning a saucy reply, and her mood changedsuddenly.

  "Nay, nay, there is not time," she cried passionately, stretching outher hands to him. "There is _not_ time! Though it be not to-night, itmay be to-morrow--who knoweth? And it is forever--forever and ever!Caro Signore, art thou not a little sorry for me?"

  She looked like a child as she made this appeal, and his heart smote himfor his coldness, for she was truly suffering. His sudden sympathybrought a new note of tenderness to his voice.

  "So sorry," he said, as he took her hand in a compassionate clasp. "Sosorry--that only duty to our land of Cyprus stayeth me from seeking thatthy weary penance be lightened. If I might, I would help thee."

  "_Our land of Cyprus!_ and thou a Venetian!" she cried triumphantly, herrainbow face flashing smiles, "and how, caro Signore--_carissimoSignore_--if 'duty to our land of Cyprus' should bid thee help me?"

  "It is some new intrigue of which thou hast knowledge?" he questioned,striving to hold her thoughts in one direction.

  "Is not the one for which I stand here, and which will send me hence,enough," she answered tantalizingly, "that thou wouldst have more?"

  "If it be but for whim of speech that thou hast summoned me," he saidrising, knowing well that she would yield nothing to persuasion, "I maynot linger longer. If there be a way in which I may serve thy mother,the Countess--ere I take my leave----?"

  She shook her head for answer, pulling impatiently at the orchids whichshe had gathered up again; they seemed akin to her--half elfin flowers.

  "Or if there be some message of farewell for Her Majesty?"

  Again she shook her head, in emphatic denial; but she was conscious thatthe Bernardini still lingered, although he had taken a few steps awayfrom her: and looking up she saw that he was watching her in keendisappointment. Suddenly her cheek flamed, for his look was bothcompassionate and reproachful, yet despite her anger, she thought himmore than ever noble while she struggled to repress the half-consciousfeeling within her that dumbly answered to his appeal.

  "She hath been merciful and forgiven much," he urged, in a tone that wasstill compassionate toward Ecciva herself; "she hath suffered muchbecause of the grief for thy mother and thyself--and because she mightnot lighten the penance. Is there no little word of farewell for her?"

  Dama Ecciva tossed away her flowers, and rose indignantly:

  "I _have_ a message for Her Majesty," she said in quick, hard tones."Tell her I thank her for"--she glanced about the chamber as if summingup its comforts and elegance--"for her flowers. Tell her that the deMontferrats come of a noble house, well nigh as old as the Lusignans;that of our elder branch came a queen of Cyprus. Tell her that if I knownot how to thank her for that she hath decreed banishment for a noble ofour ancient house--she who hath lived in our land of Cyprus these _fewyears of her littl
e life_--if I lack the grace to be so good acourtier--yet I humbly thank her for--these orchids--which might havesprung from some mouldering trunk in a forgotten corner of my estates.They mind me of the days before _she_ came to Cyprus."

  She crushed them angrily beneath her foot as she spoke, and her wordsstormed upon him.

  As he would have answered her, she broke in with more hot words.

  "Tell her that I shall not lose my color in exile; it will not cure meof my _crime of loyalty_ to my people--I cannot change my faith--tellher----"

  But he interrupted gravely:

  "Thou dost wrong thyself and her: knowing well that thy 'crime' is not'of loyalty to thy people'; but that thou couldst _profess_ a loyaltywhich was but pretence to the Queen who held thy vows of fealty."

  She was quivering still with anger and she did not answer him.

  "Speech is useless," he said, "if it be not reasonable: and nonegrieveth more than our gentle Lady that the welfare of the Statedemandeth the exile of one who hath conspired against it. She, of hergrace, will have it that others have misled thee;--that of thine ownheart thou wouldst not have sought this treachery."

  "_Treachery!_" her eyes flamed. "If that be treachery----Listen! Ithought to send thee away without my confidence and leave thee to thyblind struggle to rule our people of Cyprus--thou and the fair littleQueen! Yet I _will_ tell thee, for I cannot leave thee so."

  She had come nearer. "Will the nobles in their far lands bow at _her_bidding? _Never!_ They need a _man_ to sway them, for the good ofCyprus--one who knoweth how to rule--of strength and constancy to shapetheir kingdom and make it great. For _such_ a man the nobles would risein their might."

  "There is none such," he answered coldly, "and talk of treason--exceptit were a maid's wild dreaming--must be brought before the Council ofthe Realm. Unless thou hast confession of some real import to theState--or names that we should know--and for the telling much might beforgiven thee--I bid thee farewell. Truly it is hard for thee, my poorDama Ecciva; but in thy heart thou knowest that the penalty could not beless.--May thy reason and the years soften it to thee."

  She had not listened to his last words, but stood irresolute as he tookhis ceremonious farewell: then suddenly she sprang towards him andcaught his hand to detain him. Her face had grown soft and eager.

  "It _is_ 'confession'!" she cried, "'of import to the State'--and'names' that thou shouldst know. There are many nobles whom I couldreach--I will name thee all their names when we have spoken together:those who suffer banishment with me are but a few. At word of mine theywould kindle into fire and make a glory of Cyprus!" She had drawnherself up proudly, her eyes were flashing; she had clenched her smallhands so tightly over his that he could not withdraw it.

  "Poor child!" he said compassionately; "shall one woman rule them, andnot another!--It is the madness of imprisonment and exile; it shall beforgiven thee."

  He tried to make his escape, but she clung to his hand yet more closely,so that he could not move without dragging her with him.

  "It is not forgiveness that I want," she cried furiously, "butcomprehension. Canst thou not see! Have I not said that Cyprus hath needof a man to rule? _Who_ led the people to storm the Fortress ofFamagosta? _Who_ ruled the city in quiet through those days ofstress?--_Thou_ art the man! _Through me, who hold the key, thou shaltrule them well._"

  "I am a Venetian," he answered coldly; and no longer hesitating to usethe needful force to unclasp the clinging, importunate hands. "Fromcompassion have I shown too great patience with thy mad dreaming. I willdirect that the Countess of Montferrat be permitted to come to thee now:for the galley must soon sail for Venice.--May the Madonna help thee!"

  But as he reached the door a mocking laugh rang out and made him turn insurprise, for it was but a moment since he had instinctively averted hisgaze, lest he should read too easily in her mobile face the emotionwhich she made no effort to conceal.

  "Let us at least part with due ceremony, your Excellency," she said,"since we shall both have travelled to other worlds before we meetagain: I--who might have been a Queen, hadst thou but believed my 'maddreaming' and accepted my aid to make thee--that which should have mademe thy Queen indeed, and thee a Sovereign of Cyprus!--had I butcondescended so far!"

  She swept him her most courtly reverence. "Adieu! Thou art a manindeed--like many another--to let a woman outwit thee and befoolthee--so that even now thou knowest not within thy soul if she hathspoken truth,--or flattery to beguile thee; or 'mad dreaming'--forwhich, perforce, she 'may be forgiven,' and render thanks! Thou knowestnot whether she hath, in truth, spoken _to mislead thee_ that whichshould have brought the pride of thy superb Venice low--hadst thou butlistened!--So much hath my 'confession' availed thee. O, most astuteVenetian!"

  She flung the words at him in triumphant tones, while he, in noble pity,stood speechless--having seen her face when she thought he had not seen;and she stood thus--radiant--defiant--until there was no longer an echoof footsteps back through the long vaulted corridor of the castle. Thenthe mocking smile died on her lips and eyes and she threw herself on hercouch in a bitter paroxysm of passion.

  "One may dare all, for a man of stone," she cried, "and yet not win! AndI would have made him great--_great_ beyond his dreams! Ofool!--FOOL!"