The Royal Pawn of Venice Part 21

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

With Saplana the Commander of Famagosta, and with his own brother Gioan Peres Fabrici, as with some other members of the Queen's Council, many details of the conspiracy which was now being brought to so satisfactory a conclusion, had been arranged. They knew that the Neapolitan galley would be in port that night to support the uprising and the proclamation that should be made, if fortune favored. They knew of Ferdinand's untiring machinations to win a hold upon this much contested Crown of Cyprus; and none knew better how from the moment that the coveted alliance between Ja.n.u.s and a Princess of Naples had been frustrated by the Venetian marriage, Ferdinand had not ceased from intrigues to that end, secretly and zealously supported by certain men who were holding important positions of trust in the Government of Cyprus.

Andrea Cornaro, by whose means his niece had come to her throne, would be the most formidable individual opponent in any scheme for the benefit of Naples, and it became important to remove him; yet it could not be done without some apparent excuse--because of his relationship to the Queen, and because unless success were complete, they might have cause to dread the strong galleys of Venice. So the wily Primate--keeping perhaps his own counsel as to the fabricator of the plot--invented a scheme which he a.s.serted that the unconscious Cornaro intended to carry into effect that night by which, _when the great bell of the Castle should sound the call to arms, the Venetians in Famagosta, under Visconti and his band of Italian soldiers were to rise up and murder every Cyprian member of the Council of the Realm_. "Therefore let every man be armed and ready for the defense of Cyprus when the call shall be heard. And spare not the traitors!" he urged upon the Commander of the fortress.

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

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

The Queen had been restless and could not sleep, being greatly troubled by a missive which the Archbishop had that morning delivered into her hands and which contained a reprimand of no gentle nature, purporting to come from His Holiness of Rome, who charged the Queen and certain gentlemen of her kingdom with being 'wicked and ungrateful,' and a.s.suring her that they were everywhere so regarded, for 'certain reasons well known to the writer,' which were not named.

She had put the letter aside, meaning to discuss it with her Chamberlain in the morning; but in the darkness and solitariness of her chamber, it a.s.sumed new proportions, and she finally sent to pray the Lady Margherita to come to her, and they sat far into the night--Dama Margherita trying in vain to comfort her with her a.s.surance that she did not believe the letter to be genuine.

"His Holiness could not speak without reason," she a.s.serted; "and having reasons, why should he not give them--that the fault might be confessed and atoned for?--_There are no reasons._ It is the work of some one who seeketh to annoy."

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

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

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 whose code had not been fashioned by her ideals.

Dama Margherita had but just withdrawn when the uproar in the streets began and she rushed back at once to her Lady's side. The sounds came m.u.f.fled through the ma.s.sive walls of the castle for there was no outlook on the Piazza; it was the low muttering of a storm, none the less terrible because undeclared. But there could be no mistaking the dread clangor of the bell, and the two young, helpless women clung to each other in trembling silence.

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

"Margherita, I must know at once what this meaneth. If one of the Council would come to me--there is always one in the Castle--my Uncle Andrea--or the Councillor Zaffo--I would they had not sent Aluisi and the 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. I will come with the Prince and his _aya_, so soon as I shall have found one of the Council. Your Majesty will not fear to be left alone?"

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

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

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

"Madonna mia!" the Queen cried piteously with clasped hands, "I do not understand!"

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

The Archbishop of Nikosia had entered the Queen's apartment unperceived and 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 sensitive soul like a blow.

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

"I came to bring your Majesty news of import," he began, taking no notice of her command. "His Majesty of Naples----"

Was he indeed about to confess his connection with the intriguing King of Naples, of which there had been more than one rumor? Aluisi had bidden 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 her fragile hand with a motion of silence--her slight trembling figure held erect by force of will, her head thrown back--her eyes flashing scorn--her voice steadied by a supreme effort.

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

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

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

Then she turned to Maestro Gentile, compa.s.sionate and protecting.

"It cannot be that any should seek thy life," she said. "Thou art my friend:--I will shield thee here--_Madonna Sanctissima_! I cannot think--let us pray that this horror pa.s.s!"

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

There was a rush of footsteps, as of pursuers coming swiftly up the secret pa.s.sage by which the physician had entered the royal apartments; in another second the hanging was torn aside and Rizzo, dark and ferocious, panting like some savage with the madness of the deeds already done--his eyes glaring upon his prey--with an oath at finding them so engaged, thrust the young Queen violently away, and sprang at the physician crying out in a voice of frenzy, as he dealt him two desperate blows with his iron gauntleted fists.

"_E tu traditor!_"

It was the inglorious watchword--the signal of the brutal captain of this unequal fight; and the mercenaries following his lead, fell upon the 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 from serious harm by the corslet worn under his long mantle, had watched his opportunity, and with the agility of a hunted man, he started to his feet and escaped into the corridor, running for his life, on and up to the ramparts.

The Queen threw herself before the doorway, in agonized pleading for the life of her friend. But the clinging hands and streaming tears, the heroism of the girl facing all those frenzied men alone, were as nothing to their wrath at the delay--and in a moment they had pa.s.sed her in hot pursuit.

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

She staggered back against the doorway where she stood.

Then suddenly, came a flash of agonized revelation--the consciousness that this was but one link in the dark scheme of revolt, and with it came the acute revival of all her powers--the sharpening of every faculty of heart and brain.

"My Boy!" she cried--her voice thrilled through the castle--"_Madonna Dolorosa_--_My Child!_" and with the fleetness of a deer she turned and sped with flying feet, down the corridor to the chamber of the little Prince.

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

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

XXI