XXVI

Fra Paolo was fast becoming a centre of romance, so many were the

attempts from suspicious quarters to manage private interviews which the

Senate had thought necessary to frustrate; and the fact that he was

known to have declined the escort of guards which the Senate urged upon

him as means of safety endowed him with a sort of heroic halo in the

eyes of the lesser multitude. "Fate largo a Fra Paolo," they called in

the Merceria if the people pressed him too closely--"Make way for Fra

Paolo!"--and a strange youthfulness, as of satisfied affections, was

beginning to grow upon his calm face. He had had no cravings, feeling

that duty sufficed; yet, through this absolute yielding of himself to

express the message with which his life was charged, his heart had

warmed within him, and now, unsought, the people loved him, magnifying

the interest of every minor happening of his life and zealously

gathering anecdotes of the days before he was great.

A group of his brother friars were strolling back and forth under the

fretted colonnades of the greater court of the Servi one evening before

vespers, a glow of relish on their genial, cowled faces, rehearsing the

tale of Fra Paolo's unconventional slippers; for it was the hour of

small gossip, and the day had been warm.

"They were scarlet, like an eminence's," explained Fra Giulio, who had

secured this choice bit for the entertainment of his special cronies;

"for all colors are one to Fra Paolo, who hath no distinction for

trifles."

"Because he spendeth himself in scheming for honors that belong

elsewhere," interposed a disaffected brother who had strolled up and

joined the group uninvited; he belonged to another chapter of the Servi,

and had but recently come among them; honors had passed him by and

duties attracted him less, and he had made no friends within the

convent, though he professed great interest in all that concerned Fra

Paolo, and had even offered to wait upon him in chapel or in his cell.

"Thou, Fra Antonio, seek thine own friends!" Fra Giulio retorted, with

unusual asperity; "for this tale is too good for thine hearing, being

another triumph for Fra Paolo in the days when he was only a frate of

the Servi."

"_Ebbene_, and then?" urged the eager auditors, crowding around the

speaker, for the incongruity of the grave padre, in his frayed and rusty

gown attempting to usurp a decoration, lent interest to the petty

happening.

"_Ebbene_, and then his Eminence of Borromeo--for it seemeth that only

the illustrious play parts in this farce"--Fra Giulio continued with

keen enjoyment, "his Eminence of Borromeo hath explained at Rome that

Fra Paolo was innocent of contempt of rule."

"Verily, the fault might have been counted to one who hath no sins of

the body to atone for!" sneered Fra Antonio, who could not be converted

to the prevailing tone of admiration for this abnormal being who walked

among them not as other men, and toward whom his own attitude was a

singular compound of obsequiousness and cynicism. "Even the slippers of

your saint can do no wrong," he added venomously.

"But thou, in canonized shoes, couldst walk but wearily, Fra Antonio,

lest they should lead thee in unwonted ways!" one of the party retorted

maliciously.

"Fra Paolo hath fear of no man, and that which he declareth he knoweth,"

said another of the frati, lowering his voice and glancing about him

furtively. "And it hath chanced to him, more than once, to be wiser than

the Serenissimo and the Ten themselves--may San Marco have other uses

for his ears! But the day that our famous Signor Bragadin was summoned

from his palace on the Giudecca to make his promised gold for the

Signoria, I stood with the crowd in the Merceria to see him pass, with

his two black dogs and their golden collars looking for all the world

like powers of evil! And our gold-maker himself going to the Senate like

a noble, with his friends the Cornaro and the Dandolo in crimson

robes--the people thronging to see him pass!"

"Ay, Bragadin was a saintly man!" one of them retorted mockingly. "Dost

remember the tale how that he fooled the worshipful Signoria to leave

him a week in peace, that he might take the blessed sacrament quietly,

finding therein 'a holy joy' that should fit him to proceed to the

service of Venice--looking, meanwhile, for means of escape?"

"_Davvero_! but this was the hour of his highest favor, and I followed

with the rest of the crowd till there was scarce breathing space under

the clock tower, where the _Magi_ were just coming forth to salute the

Madonna and the Bambino at the stroke of the day; and the people were

shouting so one could not hear the bell for cries of 'Gold! gold!

Bragadin!'

"We surged back against the doorway of the 'Nave d'Oro,' the people

struggling with each other lest they should lose the sight as he passed

through the Piazza, and suddenly there came a voice,--cold, and

scornful, and low, but no man lost the words,--'Thou art wearied in the

multitude of thy counsels. Let now the astrologers, the star-gazers, the

monthly prognosticators stand up and save thee from these things that

shall come upon thee!' The people stopped their pushing and looked

aghast to see who spake, but I could have sworn it was Fra Paolo's

voice. I caught a glimpse of him standing quietly just inside the 'Nave

d'Oro,' while the other signori who go there to ridotto were out in the

Merceria to see the show; and I made haste away lest the crowd should

object to my habit for being like Fra Paolo's--they were so crazy for

Bragadin, following in the footsteps of the Signoria, like good

Venetians!"

"Who told the saying to the Signoria, when it might have crushed Fra

Paolo?" Fra Giulio questioned jealously.

"It may well have been his Excellency the Signor Donato, who was of the

Council in those days, but a man too strong to have a mind to the folly

of the others, and who walked about the chamber giving sign of much

displeasure while Bragadin made his gold. And the next day Fra Paolo is

commanded before the Signoria to meet the Provveditor of the Mint--being

the only man who hath dared speak his mind before the Signoria had

proved the worthlessness of Bragadin's promise. And our fine gold-maker

exchangeth his palace for a prison; for the test of the crucible is all

too easy for Fra Paolo, who speaketh naught that he knoweth not."

"Santa Maria! here cometh the 'bride,'" some one exclaimed warningly;

for none of Fra Paolo's friends had the courage for frivolity in his

grave presence, harmless as it might appear in his absence, and this

watchword was often heard in the cloister as he approached.

He was conversing earnestly with his secretary, Fra Fulgenzio, evidently

on business of the Senate, having remained in the convent all day,

contrary to his usual custom; Fra Fulgenzio had been to and fro with

messages, and once had returned from the Ducal Palace escorting several

grave personages who had gone to Fra Paolo's cell for some conference,

which gave rise to pleasant comment in the convent--since the

Serenissimo could not dispense with the personal service of its

Consultore for a single day, and every honor shown to Fra Paolo was dear

to the hearts of the Servi.

Fra Paolo paused only for a moment as he passed the group to exchange a

greeting, but his keen, quiet glance took in every expression, from the

affectionate smile of old Fra Giulio to the jealous discontent of Fra

Antonio, whose gaze drooped before him while he hastened to give the

accustomed sign of reverence due to one so high in authority.

Fra Paolo considered him seriously for a moment before resuming his

stroll. "Fra Antonio," he said, in his passionless voice, "the head of

the Roman Chapter hath made inquiry for thee, and knew naught of thy

presence here. Thou wilt soon be recalled. That thou doest--do quickly."

A sudden pallor overspread the features of Fra Antonio, who staggered

and would have fallen, as he made an effort to steal away unobserved,

had not the others come to his assistance.

"What is thy sudden ailment?" one of them asked him roughly, for he was

no favorite.

But before the trembling friar could steady his voice or choose his

words he was forgotten, for the evening bells began to chime for

vespers, and as the brothers came flocking through the cloisters the

great bell at the entrance gate on the Fondamenta dei Servi sent back

the special deep-toned call, which took precedence of every order within

the convent. Those who had already reached the chapel streamed back in

wild confusion to answer the summons which filled the court with

clanging echoes, while the silvery notes of the chapel chimes sounded

faintly in the pauses of the deeper reverberations--like the voice of a

timid child crying to be comforted when it does not understand.

In the excitement that followed Fra Antonio was forgotten by all but Fra

Giulio, who had been watching him closely as he made his way with

difficulty toward the low, arched passage which led in the direction of

the dormitory.

"Lean on me," said Fra Giulio, who stood barring the way.

"Nay," replied the other, who seemed scarcely able to stand, "I must

needs reach my cell; a sudden illness hath overtaken me."

But Fra Giulio, usually so compassionate that he was called "woman

hearted," did not move.

"Later a remedy shall be brought thee," he answered coldly. "Thou

hearest the great summons which none of our order may disobey; it is

rare and solemn to hear that call. Something of moment hath chanced.

_Ecco_, now we shall know!" he added in a tone of relief, as Fra

Gianmaria appeared from under the convent entrance, whither he had gone

to receive the Chief of the Ten, who now entered the great court with

him in formal state, with a secretary and attendants and an officer of

the guards.

The tumultuous crowd began to range itself in orderly groups at the

command of the superior, and Fra Antonio controlled himself with a

supreme effort as a body of palace guards, in brilliant uniforms,

scattered themselves among the black-robed friars. The heavy gates

closed behind them, and the dismal tolling of the bell ended in a

silence through which the heart-beats of Fra Antonio sounded in his ears

louder and more ominous than the harsh tones of the summons had done a

moment before.

Who were those two terrible gondoliers all in black, who stood by the

water-entrance on the Fondamenta? Was it the shadow of their great black

hats that darkened their features like masks? Why were they there?

He glanced stealthily at the faces of the friars; they were more full of

interest than dread, while the eyes of the little choristers who stood

robed for chapel service shone with delight. Evidently to all that

community the interruption was an event filled with possibilities of

excitement that was welcomed as breaking the monotony of the daily

round. Perhaps no one had noticed those gondoliers! Only Father

Gianmaria, the Superior, and the Senator Giustinian Giustiniani, the

Chief of the Ten, were stern and angry; and Fra Paolo stood between

them--calm and inscrutable as ever.

Now, thought Fra Antonio, before the curiosity of the friars had been

satisfied,--while no one was thinking of him,--he must escape! But at

every passage leading out of the court a scarlet coat stood guard, save

only before the low doorway of the dormitory stair. Fra Giulio's eyes

were fixed earnestly, adoringly, upon his beloved Fra Paolo, and he had

moved a little way from the wall.

Fra Antonio stole softly in behind him, breathlessly anxious. He was

already under the archway when his unsteady foot stumbled in a hollow of

the worn brick pavement just within the opening--in another moment he

should be safe! But a voice, meant for him alone, leaped through all

that crowd and petrified him with horror; it was filled with a sarcastic

grace as it offered the courtesy.

"Whoever hath need to leave this cloister before the Inquiry of Venice

is satisfied, shall be served by the gondola of the _Piombi_--which

waits."

I Piombi! Those prisons under the leads where the heat was slow

torture--this was the meaning of the masked gondoliers!

Surely it was the Chief of the Ten who had spoken! Fra Antonio trembled

from head to foot; but was he not already far enough within the narrow,

winding passage to be hidden from the cruel gaze of that man of power?

Half an inch might make the difference between life and death; he folded

his black gown closer about him--stealthily--so that it might not

rustle, watching the faint shadow on the pavement in agony--what if his

hand had been seen as he passed it behind him to gather up the folds!

Those words could not be meant for him; they were merely a general

order; there were twenty men--forty men in that company more wicked than

he! He could not turn back and face them to glide into his place again;

it would be certain death; but when the Chief of the Ten or Father

Gianmaria should begin to speak, he must go on.

He lifted one foot to be ready; a great sweat broke out on his

forehead--would this silence never end? He dared not stir until there

should be words to hold the crowd; for if he should be caught----

Were they speaking?--His heart thumped so that he could not hear. Santa

Maria!--death could not be worse!

"Thou art summoned; they are calling thee," said Fra Giulio, close

beside him, in a low, hard voice that changed to one more compassionate

as the friar turned his livid face toward him. "I know not thy fault,

but Fra Paolo will plead for thee; for thou art ill, verily."

"Fra Paolo is no man of mercy."

"Nay, but of justice. He will not remember thy discourtesies."

"_Discourtesies_!" ay, it was true; Fra Giulio did not know--nobody

knew; he would take courage and plead to be forgiven his manifold

"discourtesies" toward this idol of the Servi; it was for this that he

was summoned! The palace guards were approaching the low passage, and

the extremity of his need steadied him; he rallied all his powers for a

last effort, and, shaking off their touch, advanced into the court--his

face, withered and pain-stricken, might have plead for him but for the

strange hardness of the lines.

"It was a sudden malady that bade me seek my cell," he gasped. "I knew

not that your Excellency had need of me."

He was a ghastly thing in his fear.

The inexorable Chief of the Ten surveyed him in silence for a brief

moment that seemed unending.

"Ay, Fra Antonio, we _have_ need of thee--more than another. For word

hath reached Venice, privately, from special friendly sources in Rome,

that thou art come hither charged with a message of vital import to a

trusted servant of the Republic. Thou hast leave of the Signoria to

declare it in this presence."

Fra Antonio opened his dry lips and framed some words of which he heard

no echo.

"The Inquiry of Venice is satisfied," said the Chief. "Thou art the man

whom we seek. Conduct him to the gondola of the Piombi."

Fra Antonio fell upon his knees in wild supplication as the guards

gathered around him, but the Father Superior detained them with a

prohibitory motion.

"I crave your Excellency's pardon. For the better ruling of this

community and the clearing of all the innocent among our brotherhood, I

have summoned hither every soul under my rule. That no scandal may

arise, your Excellency will permit that the charge under which this

arrest is made be declared."

Assent was given by an impatient gesture.

"Fra Antonio, while he hath been a recipient of our hospitality," said

the Superior, "is described by trustworthy advices from our Chapter in

Rome, but just received, as a person who hath designs upon the life of a

member of this community."

"It is a false scandal," cried Fra Antonio, who had found his voice at

last. "I shall not be condemned without proof!"

"The truth is known," said Fra Paolo, leaning toward him and speaking

low. "It were better for thee to confess--or depart in silence."

But the man was beside himself with fear; he caught at his last,

desperate chance of favor, dragging himself to the feet of Fra Paolo and

pouring out an abject tale of petty jealousies and offenses for which he

obsequiously craved pardon of this "idol of the convent," protesting,

with horrible oaths, that he was guilty of nothing more.

The rare shade of compassion that had softened Fra Paolo's face when he

gave his warning, deepened to a glory and his eyes shone with a grace

that was like love, as he raised the wretched man and strove to arrest

his torrent of words. "_God_ heareth thee, my brother," he said

pleadingly; "have pity on thine own soul. Kneel to Him alone in thy

great need. But spend not thy strength with trifles that demean us both.

If thine heart hath aught against me, I forgive it."

Then turning to the Chief he besought that the trial should be

short--"For the man is ill, and I would have quiet speech with him."

"For the honor of the Servi, let the matter be dispatched, and let proof

be brought," the Superior demanded, surprised and displeased at any

softness in Fra Paolo, whose dominant note was justice, rather than

mercy.

"We will grant him the favor of a farewell collation ere he taketh leave

of his entertainers," said the Giustinian. "Let the refection be

brought."

The friars exchanged glances of astonishment and dismay as a dish of

fruit and of white bread were brought forward by two of the ducal

guards, on a costly salver wrought with the arms of Venice. It was like

the simple refreshment they had often carried to Fra Paolo's cell when

he had been absorbed by some train of thought, which, according to his

wont, he would not suspend for any hour of sleep or meals until the

problem had been conquered. Fra Giulio trembled; he would have said

those were the very grapes he had chosen to tempt Fra Paolo's slender

appetite,--white, with the veins of purple,--all as he had left them on

his desk that day, with the plate of fine white bread, when the midday

meal was served--but in no lordly dish.

A faint cry escaped Fra Antonio, and he put his hands before his face.

There was a moment of breathless silence; but no compassion anywhere

upon all those strained and eager faces, except in the eyes of Fra

Paolo, which seemed divine in pity, as he drew nearer the guilty man and

put his arm about him to steady him.

"These," said the Chief of the Ten, "fine grapes and wheaten bread,

exquisitely flavored with a most precious powder, thou shalt presently

enjoy in this presence,--with the compliments of the Signoria, who have

most carefully considered this repast,--unless thou dost instantly make

frank and full confession of thy deed and thine accomplices.

"And if more be to thy taste," the cruel voice went on, for no answer

came, "since in these matters thou hast a consummate knowledge--thou art

permitted, by grace of the Signoria, to use the contents of this packet,

which hath been found within the lining of thy cassock. This powder hath

a marvelous power to still the blood which floweth over-swiftly----"

"We have proof more than sufficient for the arrest, your Excellency,"

interposed the officer of the guards, as he gave the signal. "And no

deposition can be taken here, for the man hath fainted from his fright."

But almost unnoticed the guards bore their burden from the cloister to

the gondola of the prisons of the Piombi; for it had taken but a moment

to complete the unfinished tale in the minds of the listeners, and with

one accord they were gathering about Fra Paolo, eager to express their

loyalty, their indignation, their gratitude for his escape.

The court was in a tumult. "Fra Paolo!" "_Our_ Fra Paolo!" mingled with

bursts of vehement condemnation and rapid questions. "Our Consultore!"

"And because he is necessary to Venice!"

The chimes of the chapel sounding joyously broke in upon these

demonstrations, and two little choristers came running back to tell them

that, by order of Fra Gianmaria, a Te Deum for the safety of Fra Paolo

would be sung, in lieu of the interrupted vesper service.

"The Signoria hath had warnings without end," the Chief of the Ten was

explaining hastily to Father Gianmaria, as they strolled toward the

chapel. "The Holy Father wanteth him out of Venice, since he hath been

Consultore--for the man is a marvel! But he would rather have him alive

than dead--as the learned Scioppius hath explained, not long since, to

Fra Paolo himself! And this whole plot hath been unveiled to us by one

who watcheth secretly in Rome for the interest of Venice, since there

hath been no open communication. It was hatched in the Orsini palace, in

that holy city, not unknown to some of their Eminences; the chief

accomplices are friars--we have the names of the other two; and Piero

Salin is on the watch. The stakes are high for the friars' game--five

thousand _scudi_ apiece and a promise of Church preferment; but Piero

Salin hath ways of doing his duty! The Senate will send orders for the

better protection of its Consultore; meanwhile let him not venture forth

without two ducal guards."

"Your Excellency knoweth that Fra Paolo will have no state."

"A cowl over their saintly faces, if it please his fancy! It is the

order of the Senate, waiting better plans of safety--a suite in the

Ducal Palace or a house connected therewith by some guarded passage.

Warning hath been sent us most urgently, by friends of the Republic, of

a great price and absolution for him who may bring Fra Paolo to

Rome--alive or dead!"