CHAPTER IX
THE CONSPIRACY
It was a night, moonless and starless. Deep silence brooded over thecity. Not a ray of light was in the sky. A dense fog hung like afuneral pall over the Seven Hills, and a ceaseless, changeless drizzlewas sinking from the heavy clouds whose contours were indistinguishablein the nocturnal gloom. The Tiber hardly moaned within his banks. Thecity fires hissed and smouldered away under the descending rain, soonto be extinguished altogether.
It was about the second watch of the night when two men, wrapped indark mantles that covered them from head to foot, quitted the monasteryof San Lorenzo and were immediately swallowed up by the darkness.
The night by this time was more dismal than ever. The wind began torise, and its fitful gusts howled round the stern old walls of themonastery, or rustled in the laurels and cypresses by which it wassurrounded. The great gates were shut and barred. Hardly a light was tobe seen along the entire range of buildings.
Suddenly a postern gate opened, and what appeared to be a monk, drawinghis black cowl completely over his head, came forth and hurried alongin the direction of the river.
Tristan and his companion, emerging from their hiding-place, followedat the farthest possible distance which allowed them to retain sight oftheir quarry. Through a succession of the worst and narrowest by-lanesof the city they tracked him to the Tiber's edge.
Here, dark as it was, a boat was ready for launching. Five or sixpersons were standing by, who seemed to recognize and address the monk.Keeping in the shadows of the tall, ill-favored houses, the twaincontrived to approach near enough to hear somewhat that was said.
"The light over yonder has been burning this half hour," said one ofthe men.
"I could not come before," said he in the monk's habit. "I was followedby two men. I threw them out, however, before I reached the monasteryof San Lorenzo. But--by all the saints--lose no more time! We have losttoo much, as it is."
He entered the boat as he spoke. It was pushed out into the water, andin another moment the measured sound of oars came to their ears.
Odo of Cluny turned to his companion.
"Tell me, did he who spoke first and mentioned the light yonder on St.Bartholomew's Island--a light there is yonder, sure enough--did heresemble, think you, one we know?"
"Both in voice and form," replied Tristan.
"My thoughts point the same way as yours!"
"I should know that voice wherever I heard it," Tristan muttered underhis breath. "But what of the light?"
Dimly through the mist the red glow was discernible.
"It beams from the deserted monastery," Odo replied after a pause.
"Can we put across?" Tristan queried.
"The question is not so much to find a boat as a landing-place, wherewe shall not be seen."
"There is a boat lying yonder. If my eyes do not deceive me, theboatman lies asleep on the poop."
"Know you aught of the men who rowed down the river?" Odo turned to theboatman, after he had aroused him.
The latter stared uncomprehendingly into the speaker's face.
"I know of no men. I fell asleep for want of custom. It is aGod-forsaken spot," he added, rubbing his eyes. "Who would want a boaton a night like this?"
"We require even such a commodity," Odo replied.
The boatman returned a dull, unresponsive glance and did not move fromhis improvised couch.
"Take your oars and row us to the Tiber Island," Odo said sternly,"unless you would bring upon yourself the curse of the Church. We havea weighty matter that brooks no delay. And have a care to avoid thatother boat which has preceded yours. We must not be seen."
Something in Odo's voice seemed to compel, and soon they were afloat,the boatman bending to his oars. They drifted through the dense mistand soon a dilapidated flight of landing stairs hove in sight, leadingup to the deserted monastery.
"Had we chosen the usual landing-place, we should have found two boatsmoored there--I saw them as we turned." Odo turned to his companion."Yet we dare not land here. We should be seen from the shore."
Directing their Charon to row his craft higher up, Odo soon discoveredthe place of which he was in quest. It was a little cove. The rockswhich bordered it were slippery with seaweed, and in that mistyobscurity offered no very safe footing.
Here the boat was moored, and Odo and his companion clambered slowly,but steadily, over the rocks and, in a few moments, had made good theirlanding.
Having directed the boatman to await their call in the shadow ofthe opposite bank, where he might remain unseen, they continued togrope their way upward, till they reached the angles of a wall whichconverged here, sheltered by a projecting pent house. Voices wereheard issuing from within.
"We must have ample security, my lord," said a speaker, whose voice Odorecognized as the voice of Basil. "You require of us to do everything.You exact ties and pledges and hostages, and you offer nothing."
"I am desirous of sparing, as much as may be, the blood of my men,"replied the person addressed. "Rome must be my lord's without conflict."
"That may--or may not be," said the first speaker. "But so much you maysay to the Lord Ugo. If he expects to reconquer Rome, he will need allthe forces he can summon."
"A wiser man than you or I, my lord, has said: 'Never force a foe tostand at bay,'" interposed a third. "Reject our offers, and we, whomyou might have for your friends, you will have for your most bitterand determined foes. Accept our terms, and Rome, together with theEmperor's Tomb, is yours!"
"What terms are contained in this paper?" queried Ugo's emissary.
"They are not very difficult to remember!" returned the GrandChamberlain. "But I might as well repeat them here. First--the revenuesof all the churches to flow to the Holy See."
"Proceed."
"Utmost security of life, person and property to those who are aidingour enterprise."
"It is well," said the voice. "So much I can vouch for, my lord. Isthat all?"
"All--as far as conditions go," returned the third speaker.
"It is not all, by St. Demetrius," cried Basil. "I claim the officeI am holding with all its privileges and appurtenances, to give noaccount to any one of the past or the future."
"What of the present?" interposed the voice.
"You never could imagine that I perilled my neck only to secure yourlord in his former possessions, which he so cowardly abandoned," saidBasil contemptuously. "I claim the hand of the Lady Theodora--"
"Theodora?" cried the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany, turning fiercely uponthe speaker. "Surely you are mad, my lord, to imagine that the Lord Ugowould peril his reign with the presence of this woman within the samewalls that witnessed the regime of her sister--"
"Mind your own business, my lord," interposed Basil. "What the manthinks who fled from Castel San Angelo at the first cry of revolt, theman who slunk away like a thief in the night, is nothing to me. We makethe conditions. It is for him to accept or reject them, as he sees fit."
A rasping voice, speaking a villainous jargon, made itself heard atthis juncture.
"What of my Saracens, mighty lord?" Hassan Abdullah, for no lesser thanthe great Mahometan chieftain was the speaker, turned to the GrandChamberlain. "I, too, am desirous of sparing the blood of my soldiersand, insofar as lies within my power, that of the Nazarenes also. Forit is written in the book: Slavery for infidels--but death only forapostates."
"Our compact is sealed beyond recall," Basil made reply.
"Then you will deliver the woman into my hands?"
There was a pause.
"She shall be delivered into the hands of Hassan Abdullah! And hewill sail away with his white-plumed bird--the fairest flower of theNorth--and the ransom of a city."
"Yet I do not know the lady's name," said the Saracen. "This I shouldknow--else how may she heed my call?"
"Those who love her call her Hellayne."
At the name Tristan started so violently that the monk caught his armin a grip of steel.
"Silence--if you value your life," Odo enjoined.
"When and where is she to be delivered into my hands?" Hassan Abdullahcontinued.
"The place will be made known to you, my lord," Basil replied, "whenthe Emperor's Tomb hails its new master."
"Here is an infernal plot," Odo whispered into Tristan's ear, "spawnedup by the very Prince of Darkness."
"What can we do?" came back the almost soundless reply. "Hellayne to bedelivered over to this infidel dog! Nay, do not restrain me, Father--"
"There are six to two of us," Odo interposed. "Silence! Some onespeaks."
It was the voice of the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany.
"Although it seems like a taunt, to fling into the face of my lord thesister of the woman who was the cause of his defeat--"
"His coward soul was the cause of the Lord Ugo's defeat," Basilinterposed hotly. "In the dark of night, by means of a rope he lethimself down from his lair, to escape the wrath of the fledgling he hadstruck for an unintentional affront. Did the Lord Ugo even inquire intothe fate of the woman who perished miserably in the dungeons of theEmperor's Tomb?"
"Let us not be hasty," interposed another. "The Lord Ugo will listen toreason."
"The conditions are settled," Basil replied. "On the third night fromto-night!"
The conspirators rose and, emerging from the ruined refectory, madetheir way down to their boat.
Soon the sound of oars, becoming fainter and fainter, informed thelisteners that the company had departed.
Tristan's face was very white.
"What is to be done?" he turned pathetically to the monk who stoodbrooding by his side. "I almost wish I had let my fate overtake me--"
"Do not blaspheme," Odo interposed. "Sometimes divine aid is nearestwhen it seems farthest removed. In three days the blow is to fall! Inthree days Rome is to be turned over to the infidels who are ravagingour southern coasts, and the Tuscan is once more to hold sway in theTomb of the former Master of the World. But not he--Basil will rule,for Ugo has his hands full in Ivrea. With Basil Theodora will lord itfrom yonder castello. He will let the Lord Ugo burn his hands and hewill snatch the golden fruit. I will pray that this feeble hand mayundo their dark plotting."
"What is Rome to me? What the universe?" Tristan interposed, "if shewhom I love better than life is lost to me?"
The monk turned to him laying his hand upon his shoulder.
"You have been miraculously delivered from the very jaws of death. Youwill save the woman you love from dishonor and shame."
Odo pondered for a pace then he continued:
"There is one in Rome--who is encompassing your destruction. The foulcrime in the Lateran of which you were the victim is but another proofof the schemes of the Godless, who have desecrated the churches ofChrist for their hellish purposes. We must find their devil's chapel,hidden somewhere beneath the soil of Rome. None shall escape."
"How will you bring this about, Father?" Tristan queried despairingly.
"The soldiers of the Church have not been bribed," Odo replied."Listen, my son, and do you as I direct. On to-morrow's eve Theodoragives one of her splendid feasts. Go you disguised. Watch--but speaknot. Listen--but answer not. Who knows but that you may receive tidingsof your lost one? As for myself, I shall seek one whose crimes lieheavily upon him, one who trembles with the fear of death, at whosedoor he lies--Il Gobbo--the bravo. His master has dealt him a mortalwound to remove the last witness of his crimes. Come to me on thesecond day at dusk."
Emerging from the shadows of the wall, Tristan hailed the boatman, anda few moments later they were being rowed towards a solitary spot nearthe base of the Aventine, where they paid and dismissed their Charonand disappeared among the ruins.
Under the Witches' Moon: A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome Page 47