The Royal Pawn of Venice

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by Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull


  XX

  His Grace, the Archbishop, was among the first to respond to the summonsof the alarum, having his mind filled with weighty matters of life anddeath which had rendered him sleepless--some of which he had discussedconfidentially with General Saplana, who had been one of those mostdistinguished and trusted by the late King.

  With Saplana the Commander of Famagosta, and with his own brother GioanPeres Fabrici, as with some other members of the Queen's Council, manydetails of the conspiracy which was now being brought to so satisfactorya conclusion, had been arranged. They knew that the Neapolitan galleywould be in port that night to support the uprising and the proclamationthat should be made, if fortune favored. They knew of Ferdinand'suntiring machinations to win a hold upon this much contested Crown ofCyprus; and none knew better how from the moment that the covetedalliance between Janus and a Princess of Naples had been frustrated bythe Venetian marriage, Ferdinand had not ceased from intrigues to thatend, secretly and zealously supported by certain men who were holdingimportant positions of trust in the Government of Cyprus.

  Andrea Cornaro, by whose means his niece had come to her throne, wouldbe the most formidable individual opponent in any scheme for the benefitof Naples, and it became important to remove him; yet it could not bedone without some apparent excuse--because of his relationship to theQueen, and because unless success were complete, they might have causeto dread the strong galleys of Venice. So the wily Primate--keepingperhaps his own counsel as to the fabricator of the plot--invented ascheme which he asserted that the unconscious Cornaro intended to carryinto effect that night by which, _when the great bell of the Castleshould sound the call to arms, the Venetians in Famagosta, underVisconti and his band of Italian soldiers were to rise up and murderevery Cyprian member of the Council of the Realm_. "Therefore let everyman be armed and ready for the defense of Cyprus when the call shall beheard. And spare not the traitors!" he urged upon the Commander of thefortress.

  "And if Visconti's men could be under restraint this night," theArchbishop suggested casually, "and if that Chamberlain of the Queen'scould be under trusty guard within the palace--not to make suggestionsin a matter more to your understanding than mine, your Excellency--but Iknow the man--a troublesome one and proud and silent--my brother likethhim little. After the Cornaro he is most to fear."

  Thus Aluisi Bernardini found himself with his mother, close prisoner inthe Royal palace, on the night when his Queen most sorely needed thehelp he would have perilled his life to give.

  * * * * *

  The Queen had been restless and could not sleep, being greatly troubledby a missive which the Archbishop had that morning delivered into herhands and which contained a reprimand of no gentle nature, purporting tocome from His Holiness of Rome, who charged the Queen and certaingentlemen of her kingdom with being 'wicked and ungrateful,' andassuring her that they were everywhere so regarded, for 'certain reasonswell known to the writer,' which were not named.

  She had put the letter aside, meaning to discuss it with her Chamberlainin the morning; but in the darkness and solitariness of her chamber, itassumed new proportions, and she finally sent to pray the LadyMargherita to come to her, and they sat far into the night--DamaMargherita trying in vain to comfort her with her assurance that she didnot believe the letter to be genuine.

  "His Holiness could not speak without reason," she asserted; "and havingreasons, why should he not give them--that the fault might be confessedand atoned for?--_There are no reasons._ It is the work of some one whoseeketh to annoy."

  Dama Margherita had a positive way of seeing things, which was oftenhelpful to Caterina's more gracious nature.

  "Cara Margherita--it was His Grace himself who gave the letter into myhand."

  But Dama Margherita had no reverence for the Archbishop of Nikosia.

  "I think, your Majesty, that letter is not genuine," she repeated,uncompromisingly.

  "But--Margherita--the most reverend, the Archbishop would not----"

  Caterina broke off with a vivid flush and left the sentence unfinished,remembering that there had been a previous Archbishop of Nikosia whosecode had not been fashioned by her ideals.

  Dama Margherita had but just withdrawn when the uproar in the streetsbegan and she rushed back at once to her Lady's side. The sounds camemuffled through the massive walls of the castle for there was no outlookon the Piazza; it was the low muttering of a storm, none the lessterrible because undeclared. But there could be no mistaking the dreadclangor of the bell, and the two young, helpless women clung to eachother in trembling silence.

  Caterina was the first to recover her composure; she made a patheticeffort to steady her voice as she spoke.

  "Margherita, I must know at once what this meaneth. If one of theCouncil would come to me--there is always one in the Castle--my UncleAndrea--or the Councillor Zaffo--I would they had not sent Aluisi andthe Zia back to the palace!--and--and--_I will go to the Boy_."

  "Dear Lady," Margherita besought her. "Let me rather bring him hither.The Council will be coming at once--they would rather find you here. Iwill come with the Prince and his _aya_, so soon as I shall have foundone of the Council. Your Majesty will not fear to be left alone?"

  "No: _No!_" Caterina hastened her with a motion of her hand. "The otherswill be here; thou wilt hasten with the child--and then thou wilt leaveme no more!"

  But Dama Margherita was already far down the narrow stone corridor,beyond hearing the confession of failing courage which would havebrought her instantly back, when a tapestry was thrust hastily aside,and Maestro Gentile, the old white-haired physician, fully armed, butwith the air of a hunted man, tottered into the room.

  "They seek my life," he gasped, "I know not why. I came through theterror lest your Majesty should need me--for it is a night!--San Nicolosave us!"

  "Madonna mia!" the Queen cried piteously with clasped hands, "I do notunderstand!"

  "It is the time for reckoning, fair Majesty; and those who have thepower shall rule."

  The Archbishop of Nikosia had entered the Queen's apartment unperceivedand stood watching her with eyes of triumph.

  She shrank from him with a sudden comprehension of his false nature,while he offered his explanation in a voice that struck her sensitivesoul like a blow.

  Instinctively she drew nearer to the old physician as if craving somestay, and laid her hand affectionately on his arm; then she pointed tothe door: "Leave us at least the courtesy of our apartment!" sheexclaimed indignantly to the Archbishop; "your Grace came unannounced."

  "I came to bring your Majesty news of import," he began, taking nonotice of her command. "His Majesty of Naples----"

  Was he indeed about to confess his connection with the intriguing Kingof Naples, of which there had been more than one rumor? Aluisi hadbidden her weigh the Primate's counsels before accepting them.

  "We will hear your news in presence of the Councillors of the Realm,whom I have already summoned," the Queen interrupted, raising herfragile hand with a motion of silence--her slight trembling figure helderect by force of will, her head thrown back--her eyes flashingscorn--her voice steadied by a supreme effort.

  He paused, half in admiration, half in triumph, gloating over thesuccess of the conspiracy of which he had been the master-mind, while hepicked the words in which he would announce it to his victim, as onemight choose the pebbles for a sling--the smoothest and the sharpest.

  "It is scarce fitting that your Majesty should be last to hear what isalready proclaimed throughout Famagosta," he said, "that Alfonso ofNaples hath been created Prince of Galilee and Heir to Cyprus."

  She looked at him with a scorn that burned. "Is your Grace a _man_," shesaid, "to use this speech? Or do I not hear aright--from the horror ofthis night?"

  Then she turned to Maestro Gentile, compassionate and protecting.

  "It cannot be that any should seek thy life," she said. "Thou art myfriend:--I will shield thee here--_Madonna Sanctissima_! I cannotthink-
-let us pray that this horror pass!"

  She put her hands over her eyes and sank upon her knees, and MaestroGentile knelt beside her.

  There was a rush of footsteps, as of pursuers coming swiftly up thesecret passage by which the physician had entered the royal apartments;in another second the hanging was torn aside and Rizzo, dark andferocious, panting like some savage with the madness of the deedsalready done--his eyes glaring upon his prey--with an oath at findingthem so engaged, thrust the young Queen violently away, and sprang atthe physician crying out in a voice of frenzy, as he dealt him twodesperate blows with his iron gauntleted fists.

  "_E tu traditor!_"

  It was the inglorious watchword--the signal of the brutal captain ofthis unequal fight; and the mercenaries following his lead, fell uponthe old man and held him down while Rizzo stripped him of his sword,which, despite his years, he might have wielded too deftly.

  There was a second's reaction from the exhaustion of the rapid chase,and while they drew breath, the physician who had been protected fromserious harm by the corslet worn under his long mantle, had watched hisopportunity, and with the agility of a hunted man, he started to hisfeet and escaped into the corridor, running for his life, on and up tothe ramparts.

  The Queen threw herself before the doorway, in agonized pleading for thelife of her friend. But the clinging hands and streaming tears, theheroism of the girl facing all those frenzied men alone, were as nothingto their wrath at the delay--and in a moment they had passed her in hotpursuit.

  She listened, every faculty tense to detach the sounds of this tragedyfrom that other, jangling from without. She heard the footsteps of theruffians overtaking him; she heard their demoniacal cries, echoingback;--his faint words--"_What have I done that ye seek my life_,"--butthe voice came no more--only sounds of struggle, growing dimmer, asthey dragged him farther away upon the ramparts--then silence--and themisery of it burning in her brain.

  She staggered back against the doorway where she stood.

  Then suddenly, came a flash of agonized revelation--the consciousnessthat this was but one link in the dark scheme of revolt, and with itcame the acute revival of all her powers--the sharpening of everyfaculty of heart and brain.

  "My Boy!" she cried--her voice thrilled through the castle--"_MadonnaDolorosa_--_My Child!_" and with the fleetness of a deer she turned andsped with flying feet, down the corridor to the chamber of the littlePrince.

  So lithe--so brave--so beautiful--so tortured--so resolute--she was athing to curb and hold! Alvigi Fabrici, the tool of Ferdinand, wouldhave liked to follow her and see the panting vision of her face, whenshe reached the cradle of her child--_and found him gone_.

  But there was already silence in the corridor: no faintest echo offlying feet--no vaguest rustle of fluttering robes--a moment hadsufficed for the mother's startled quest.

 

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