CHAPTER X
Zeno left his house noiselessly half an hour later, after changing hisclothes. He was now lightly clad in dark hose and a soft deerskindoublet with tight sleeves, a close-fitting woollen skull-cap coveredhis head, and he had no weapon but one good knife of which the sheathwas fastened to the back of his belt, as a sailor carries it when hegoes aloft to work on rigging. The night was cool, and he had a widecloak over his shoulders, ready to drop in an instant if necessary.
It was intensely dark as he came out, and after being in the light hecould hardly see the white marble steps of the landing. He almost losthis balance at the last one, and when he stepped quickly towards theboat, to save himself, he could not see it at all, and wasconsiderably relieved to find himself in the stern sheets instead ofin the water.
'Gorlias!' he whispered, leaning forwards.
'Yes!' answered the astrologer-fisherman.
The light skiff shot out into the darkness, away from the shore,instead of heading directly for Blachernae. After a few minutes Gorliasrested on his oars. Zeno had grown used to the gloom and could now seehim quite distinctly. Both men peered about them and listened for thesound of other oars, but there was nothing; they were alone on thewater.
'Is everything ready?' Zeno asked in a low tone.
'Everything. At the signal over eight hundred men will be beforeBlachernae in a few minutes. There are fifty ladders in the ruinedhouses by the wall of the city. The money has had an excellent effecton the guard, for most of them were drunk this evening, and are asleepnow. In the tower, the captain is asleep too, for his wife showed thered light an hour ago. She took up the package of opium last night bythe thread.'
'And Johannes himself? Is he ready?'
'He is timid, but he will risk his life to get out of the tower. Youmay be sure of that!'
'Have you everything we need? The fishing-line, the tail-block, andthe two ropes? And the basket? Is everything ready in the bows,there?'
'Everything, just as you ordered it, and the rope clear to pay out.'
'Give way, then.'
'In the name of God,' said Gorlias, as he dipped his oars again.
'Amen,' answered Zeno quietly.
The oars were muffled with rags at the thole-pins, and Gorlias was anaccomplished oarsman. He dipped the blades into the stream so gentlythat there was hardly a ripple, and he pulled them through with long,steady strokes, keeping the boat on its course by the scattered lightsof the city.
Zeno watched the lights, too, leaning back in the stern, and turningover the last details of his plan. Everything depended on getting theimprisoned man out of the Amena tower at once, and he believed hecould do that without much difficulty. At first sight it might seemmadness to attempt a revolution with only eight hundred men to beararms in the cause, against ten or fifteen thousand, but the Venetianknew what sort of men they were, and how profoundly Andronicus washated by all the army except his body-guard. The latter would fight,no doubt, and perhaps die to a man, for they had everything to lose,and expected no quarter; but for the next two hours most of them wouldbe still helplessly asleep after their potations, and if they woke atall they would hardly be in a condition to defend themselves. Moneyhad been distributed to them without knowledge of their officers,purporting to be sent to them from Sultan Amurad, now in Asia Minor.It had pleased the Turk more than once to keep the guards in a goodhumour towards him, and the soldiers were not surprised. Besides, theycared very little whence money came, provided it got into their hands,and could be spent in drink, for they were not sober Greeks orItalians; most of them were wild barbarians, who would rather drinkthan eat, and rather fight than drink, as the saying goes.
For nearly twenty minutes Gorlias pulled steadily upstream. Then heslackened speed, and brought the boat slowly to the foot of the tower.
The windows were all dark now, and the great mass towered up into thenight till the top was lost in the black sky. During the hours Gorliashad spent in fishing from the pier he had succeeded in wedging astout oak peg between the stones; he found it at once in the dark,got out and made the boat fast to it by the painter. His bare feetclung to the sloping surface like a fly's to a smooth wall; he pulledthe boat alongside the pier, holding it by the gunwale, and held uphis other hand to help Zeno. But the Venetian was in no need of that,and was standing beside his companion in an instant. It was only then,a whole second after the fact, that he knew he had stepped uponsomething oddly soft and at the same time elastic and resisting, thatlay amidships in the bottom of the boat, covered with canvas. Thequick recollection was that of having unconsciously placed one foot ona human body when getting out. He had taken off his shoes, but thecloth soles of his hose were thick, and he could not feel sure of whathe had touched. Besides, he had no time to lose in speculating as towhat Gorlias might have in the skiff besides his lines and his coil ofrope.
Gorlias now got the end of the fishing-line ashore, and took it in histeeth in order to climb up the inclined plane of the pier on his handsand feet, ape-fashion. In a few seconds he had found the end of astring that hung down from the blackness above, with a small stonetied to it to keep it from being blown adrift. To this string he bentthe fishing-line. Until this was done neither of the men had made theleast sound that could possibly be heard above, but now Gorlias gave asignal. It was the cry of the beautiful little owl that haunts ruinedhouses in Italy and the East, one soft and musical note, repeated atshort and regular intervals. The bird always gives it thus, but forthe signal Gorlias whistled it twice each time, instead of once. Noliving owl ever did that, and yet it was a thousand to one that nobodywould notice the difference, if any one heard him at all, except theperson for whom the call was meant.
He had not been whistling more than a quarter of a minute when he feltthe twine passing upwards through his fingers, and then the line afterit. He let the latter run through his hand to be sure that it did notfoul and kink, though he had purposely chosen one that had been longin use, and he had kept it in a dry place for a week.
Zeno had dropped his cloak in the stern of the boat before gettingout, and he now sat at the water's edge with his hands on the movingline ready to check the end when it came, in case it were not alreadyfast to the rope that was to follow it. But Gorlias had done thatbeforehand, lest any time should be lost, and presently Zeno felt theline growing taut as it began to pull on the rope itself.
This had single overhand knots in it, about two feet apart, forclimbing, and instead of coiling it down, Gorlias had ranged it foreand aft on the forward thwarts so that it came ashore clear. Whateverthe astrologer's original profession had been, it was evident that heunderstood how to handle rope as well as if he had been to sea.Moreover Zeno, who was as much a sailor as a soldier, understood fromthe speed at which the rope was now taken up, that there was atolerably strong person at the other end of it, high up in thetopmost story of the tower. The end came sooner than he expected, anda slight noise of something catching and knocking against the innerside of the boat brought Gorlias instantly to the water's edge.
'The tail-block is fast to the end,' he whispered; 'and the other lineis already rove, with the basket at one end of it. When you are aloft,you must haul up the climbing rope and make the block fast--youunderstand.'
'Of course,' Zeno answered, 'I have been to sea.'
'Whistle when you are ready and I will answer. As he comes down I cancheck the rope with a turn round a smooth stone I have found at thecorner of the tower. You must come down the climbing rope at the sametime, and steer the basket as well as you can with your foot.'
'Yes. Is all fast above?'
Gorlias listened.
'Not yet,' he whispered. 'Wait for the signal.'
It came presently, the cry of the owlet repeated, as Gorlias hadrepeated it. Zeno heard it and began to climb, while Gorlias steadiedthe rope, though there was hardly any need for that. The youngVenetian walked up with his feet to the wall, taking the rope handover hand, as if he were going up a bare pole by a gant-line
.
When he was twenty feet above the pier and was fast disappearing inthe darkness, something moved in the boat, and a white face looked upcautiously over the gunwale. It was a woman's face. Zeno had steppedupon her with his whole weight when he was getting ashore, but she hadmade no sound. Her eyes tried to pierce the gloom, to follow himupwards in his dizzy ascent. Soon she could not see him any longer,nor hear the soft sound of his cloth-shod feet as he planted themagainst the stones.
Up he went, higher and higher. Gorlias steadied the end below, keepingone foot on the block lest it should thrash about on the stones andmake a noise. He could feel each of Zeno's movements along the rope;and though he had seen many feats in his life, he wondered at the windand endurance of a man who could make such an ascent without oncecrooking his leg round the rope to rest and take breath. But CarloZeno never stopped till his feet were on the slight projectingmoulding of the highest story, and his hands on the stone sill.
As he drew himself up with a spring his face almost struck the chestof a large woman who was standing at the window to receive him. He sawher outline faintly, for there was a little light from one small lamp,placed on the floor in the farthest corner of the oblong room. Thetower was square, but the north side of the chamber was walled off tomake a space for the head of the staircase and a narrow entry. Thesingle door was in this partition. Zeno looked round while he tookbreath, and he was aware of a tall man with a long beard who stood onone side of the window, and seemed inclined to flatten himself againstthe wall, as if he feared being seen from without, even at that heightand in the dark.
The woman moved a step backwards, and Carlo put one leg over thewindow-sill and got in. He took his skull-cap from his head and bowedlow to the imprisoned Emperor before he spoke to the woman in awhisper.
'I will haul up the basket,' he said, and he laid his hands on theknotted rope to do so.
But the tall man with the beard touched him on the shoulder, and spokein a low voice.
'We must talk together,' he said.
Zeno hardly turned his head, and did not stop hauling in the rope.Below, Gorlias was steering the tail-block clear of the wall, lest itshould strike the stones and make a noise.
'This is no time for talking,' Zeno said. 'When your Majesty is freeand in safety we can talk at leisure.'
The knotted rope was coming in fast; Zeno threw it upon the floorbehind him in a wide coil to keep it clear.
'Stop!' commanded the Emperor, laying one hand on the Venetian's arm.
Zeno set his foot on the rope to keep it from running out, and turnedto the prisoner in surprise.
'Every moment is precious,' he said. 'If we are discovered fromoutside the tower the game is up, and we shall be caught like rats ina trap. I have a basket at the end of this rope in which you will bequite safe from falling, if that is what makes you hesitate. Fearnothing. We are two good men, I and my companion below.'
'You are a good man indeed, to have risked your life in climbinghere,' answered Johannes.
He made a few steps, bending his still handsome head in thought. Helimped slightly in his walk, and he was said to have only four toes onhis left foot.
Zeno at once continued hauling up the rope, but a moment later theEmperor stopped close beside him.
'It is of no use,' he said; 'I cannot go with you.'
Zeno was thunderstruck, and stood still with the rope in his twohands.
'You will not go?' he repeated, almost stupidly. 'You will not befree, now that everything is ready?'
'I cannot. Go down your rope before there is an alarm. Take God'sblessing for your generous courage, and my heartfelt thanks. I amashamed that I should have nothing else to offer you. I cannot go.'
'But why? Why?'
Carlo Zeno could not remember that he had ever been so much surprisedin his life, and so are they who gather round the story-teller andlisten to his tale. But it is a true one; and many years afterwardsone of Carlo Zeno's grandsons, the good old Bishop of Belluno, wroteit down as he had heard it from his grandsire's lips. Moreover it ishistory. The imprisoned Emperor Johannes refused to leave his prison,after Zeno had risked life and limb to prepare a revolution, and hadscaled the tower alone.
'Andronicus has my little son in the palace,' said the prisoner; 'if Iescape he will put out the child's eyes with boiling vinegar, andperhaps mutilate him or kill him by inches. Save him first, then Iwill go with you.'
There was something very noble in the prisoner's tone, and in the turnof his handsome head as he spoke. Zeno could not help respecting him,yet he was profoundly disappointed. He tried one argument.
'If you will come at once,' he said, 'I promise you that we shall holdthe palace before daybreak, and the little prince will be as free asyou.'
Johannes shook his head sadly.
'The guards will kill him instantly,' he said; 'the more certainly ifthey see that they must fight for their lives.'
'In short, your Majesty is resolved? You will not come with me?'
'I cannot.' The Emperor turned away, and covered his face with hishands, more as if trying to concentrate his thoughts than as if indespair. 'No, I cannot,' he repeated presently. 'Save the boy first,'he repeated, dropping his hands and turning to Zeno again, 'then Iwill go with you.'
Zeno was silent for a moment, and then spoke in a determined tone.
'Hear me, sire,' he said. 'A man does not run such risks twice, exceptfor his own blood. You must either come with me at once, or give upthe idea that I shall ever help you to escape. The boy may be indanger, but so are you yourself, and your life is worth more to thisunhappy Empire than his. To-night, to-morrow, at any moment, your sonAndronicus may send the executioner here, and there will be an end ofyou and of many hopes. You must risk your younger boy's life for yourcause. I see no other way.'
'The other way is this; I will stay here and risk my own. I wouldrather die ten deaths than let my child be tortured, blinded, andmurdered.'
'Very well,' answered Zeno; 'then I must go.'
He let the knotted rope go over the sill again till it was all out,and he sat astride the window mullion ready to begin the descent.
'Cast off the rope when I whistle,' he said, 'and let it down by theline, and the line after it by the twine.'
He spoke to the big woman, who was the wife of the keeper, himself atrusted captain of veterans. She nodded by way of answer.
'For the last time,' Zeno said, looking towards Johannes, 'will youcome with me? There is still time.'
The Emperor looked prematurely old in the faint light, and his figurewas bent as he rested with one hand on the heavy table. His voice wasweak too, as if he were very tired after some great effort.
'For the last time, no,' he answered. 'I am sorry. I thank you withall my heart----'
Zeno did not wait for more, and his head disappeared below the windowalmost before the prisoner had spoken the last words. Five minutes hadnot elapsed since he had reached the chamber.
Below, Gorlias had been surprised when he felt the second rope slackin his hand, and when the basket and block, which had been half-way upthe wall, began to come down again. The astrologer could only supposethat there was an alarm within the tower, and that Zeno was gettingaway as fast as he could. The last written message, lowered by theyarn at dusk that evening, had been to say that the Emperor was ready,and that a red light would be shown when the captain was asleep, underthe influence of the drug his wife had given him. It could notpossibly occur to the astrologer that Johannes would change his mindat the very last moment.
'Take care!' Gorlias whispered quickly to the woman at his elbow, assoon as he was sure of what was happening. 'He is coming down again.'
'Alone?' The anxious inquiry answered his words in the same breath.
'Alone--yes! He is on the rope now, he is coming down, hand underhand.'
The woman slipped down the inclined surface, almost fell, recoveredher foothold, and nearly fell again as she sprang into the boat, andthrew herself at full length upon
the bottom boards. Zeno was half-waydown, and before she covered herself with the canvas she glanced upand distinctly saw his dark figure descending through the gloom.
She had scarcely stretched herself out when she was startled by a loudcry, close at hand.
'Phylake! Aho--ho--o! Watch, ho! Watch, ho!'
A boat had shot out of the darkness to the edge of the pier. In aninstant three men had sprung ashore, and were clambering up thesloping masonry towards Gorlias. The woman stood up in Zeno's skiff,almost upsetting it, and her eyes pierced the gloom to see what washappening.
Gorlias threw himself desperately against the three men, withoutstretched arms, hoping to sweep them altogether into the water froma place where they had so little foothold. The woman held her breath.One of the three men, active as a monkey, dodged past the astrologer,caught the knotted rope, and began climbing it. The other two fell,their feet entangled in the line-rove through the tail-block, and withthe strong man's weight behind them they tumbled headlong down theincline. With a heavy splash, and scarcely more than one for allthree, Gorlias and his opponents fell into the water.
There was silence then, while the other man climbed higher and higher.
The woman watched in horror. In falling, the men had struck againstthe stem of the skiff, dragging the painter from the peg. The otherboat was not moored at all, and both were now adrift on the sluggishstream. The woman steadied herself, and tried to see.
The man climbed fast, and above him the dark figure moved quicklyupwards. But Zeno's pursuer was fresher than he, and as quick as acat, and gained on him. If he caught him, he might crook his leg roundthe knotted rope to drag Zeno down and hurl him to the ground.
Still he gained, while the boats began to drift, but still the womancould make out both figures, nearer and nearer to each other. Nowthere were not ten feet between them.
A faint cry was heard, a heavy thud on the stones, and silence again.Zeno had cut the rope below him. The woman drew a sharp breath betweenher closed teeth. There was no noise, now, for the man that had beenas active as a cat was dead.
But an instant later one of the other three was out of the water, andon the edge of the pier, panting for breath.
The woman took up one of the oars, and tried to paddle with it. Shethought that the man who had come up must be Gorlias, and that theother two were drowned, and she tried to get the boat to the pieragain; she had never held an oar in her life, and she was tremblingnow. High in mid-air Zeno was hanging on what was left of the rope,slowly working his way upwards, fully fifty feet above the base of thetower.
The skiff bumped against the other boat alongside, and the woman beganto despair of getting nearer to the land, and tried to shove the emptyboat away with her hands. The effect was to push her own skiff towardsthe pier, for the other was much the heavier of the two. Then,paddling a little, she made a little way. The man ashore seemed to beexamining the body of the one who had been killed; it lay sprawling onthe stones, the head smashed. The living one was not Gorlias; thewoman could see his outline now. She was strong, and with the one oarshoved her skiff still farther from the other boat, and nearer to thepier. The man heard her, got upon his feet, and slipped down to thewater's edge again.
'Hold out the end of the oar to me,' he said, 'and I will pull theboat in.'
It was not the voice of Gorlias that spoke, and the woman did not obeythe instructions it gave. On the contrary she tried to paddle away,lest the man should jump aboard. Strangely enough the skiff seemed toanswer at once to her will, as if some unseen power were helping her.It could not be her unskilled, almost helpless movements of the oarthat guided it away.
But the man rose to his feet, on the lowest course of the stones,where there was a ledge, and he sprang forwards, struck the waterwithout putting his head under, and was at the stern of the boat in afew seconds.
The woman seemed fearless, for she stepped quickly over the afterthwart, taking her oar with her, and a moment later she struck adesperate blow with it at the swimmer, and raised it again. She couldnot see him any more, and she knew that if she had struck his head hemust have sunk instantly; but she waited a little longer in the stern,the oar still uplifted in both her hands.
At that moment, the repeated call of the owlet came down from farabove. It could only mean that Zeno had reached the upper window insafety. Then the boat rocked violently two or three times, and thewoman was thrown down, sitting, in the stern sheets; she saw that aman was getting in over the bows, and was already on board.
'That was well done, Kokona,' said the voice of Gorlias, softly.
Zoe sank back in the stern, half-fainting with exhaustion, pain, andpast anxiety.
'Is he safe?' she managed to ask.
'That was his call. He has reached the window again, but it was anarrow escape.'
She could hardly breathe. Gorlias had taken the oars, and the skiffwas moving.
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