Zoë had closed her eyes to bear the pain better, and a tiny drop of
blood slowly trickled from the lip she had bitten in the first moment
of the torture. It made a thin, dark line from her mouth downward, a
little on the left side, over her white chin. Her breath came in deep
and quivering sobs, drawn through her clenched teeth, but no other
sound escaped her in those awful seconds. She was praying that death
might come soon, but she did not ask for strength to be silent; that
she had, for Carlo Zeno's sake, and for the sake of the just vengeance
that would overtake Andronicus when she was dead, if only he were not
warned of what was perhaps so near. She thought she might die of the
pain only; she was sure that she must faint away if it lasted many
moments longer.
The Emperor bent down in his saddle to see her agonised white face
more clearly in the gathering gloom, and to catch the least syllable
she might speak; and his loose lip moved, for he was counting to
himself, counting the ten score, after which she would be able to bear
no more and would tell him where the danger was. For the corpse-faced
man knew his business, and his experience had been wide and long, and
the Emperor knew that he never made a mistake. Moreover, the Greek
minister smiled with sheer pleasure at the sight, and hoped that his
master would command them to put the girl to death by very slow
torments.
The guards, too, crowded upon each other to see, but they were not all
silent now; for there were brave men amongst them, savage adventurers
from the wild mountains beyond the Black Sea, who feared neither God,
nor Emperor, nor man; and they did not like the sight they saw, and
they said words one to another in strange tongues which the Greeks
could not understand.
Andronicus counted slowly to twenty, and then still more slowly to
forty, and the tortured girl's sharp breathing irritated him.
'Speak!' he cried, in a tone that was low and angry. 'Tell me where
the danger is, or the thing shall eat out your heart!'
Then the answer came, but not in Zoë's voice, nor by one voice, but by
many, loud and deep; and though the words were confused, some could be
heard well enough; and they told the loose-lipped cowardly youth where
the danger was, for it was upon him.
'Johannes! Johannes reigns! God and the Emperor! Emperor Johannes!'
That was what the voices shouted from the gate, as the multitude swept
in, driving the sentinels and guards before them as the gale drives
dry leaves. With but one breathing-space for thought and resolve, the
guards in their scarlet tunics closed round Andronicus like waves of
blood in the deep dusk, and he went down under them, and heard them
answer the coming people--
'Johannes reigns! Emperor Johannes!'
Zoë heard the cry through her torment and forgot the pain for one
moment, and the next, the dumb Ethiopian who had held her, slit the
torturer's bandage and plucked the walnut shell from under her arm,
with its living contents, and threw them away; for he had seen
Andronicus go down, and knew that there was a new master. Then some of
the men, who remembered it afterwards, saw the corpse-faced man
grovelling on the ground and searching for his treasure, which could
make the toughest victim speak before one could count ten score; for
he served the Emperor, whoever he might be, as he and his father
before him had served many. No one ever killed the torturer. So he
went amongst the trampling feet on his hands and knees, feeling
nothing, if so be that he might find his pet and get it back safely
into its cage in his bosom. And when he found it still in the walnut
shell, by the strange chance that protects all evil, he laughed like a
maniac and slipped between the guards' legs on all fours, like a
hideous white-faced ape, and ran away into the palace.
Zoë had opened her eyes, and the pain was gone, leaving only a throb
behind, and she gathered her torn tunic to her neck with one hand as
best she could and slipped out of the turmoil; and only she, of all
those that heard the first shout, knew how it was that the people were
cheering for the delivered Emperor, while Johannes was still shut up
in the tower and guarded by the deaf-and-dumb Africans; and in the
glorious triumph of her plan she forgot everything else but the man
she loved, and he was safe now, beyond all doubt. Was he not the
friend of the restored Johannes? The soldiers would not dare, on their
lives, to keep him a prisoner now, not for one hour, not for one
moment.
And there he rode, surely enough, in the front rank of the multitude,
on the right hand of Emperor John. She knew him, though the last grey
light was fading from the sky. She would have known him in the dark,
it seemed to her that if she had been blind she would have known that
he was near; and her joy rose in her throat, after the torture she had
endured, and almost choked her, so that she reeled unsteadily and
gasped for breath.
He was on the right hand of the Emperor John, 'Handsome John,' whom
the people had once loved and whom they were now ready to love again,
having tasted of the scorpions with which Andronicus had regaled them.
'Handsome John,' with his splendid brown beard--the light of torches
flashed upon it now--and his cloth-of-gold cloak drawn closely round
him like a bishop's cope, so that it hid his hands and half his bridle
on each side, and covered the back of his head, too, and a great part
of his cheeks; he wore the tall imperial head-dress also, and it
shaded his eyes. The people had recognised him more by his fine beard
and his cloth of gold than by his face, but the beard was
unmistakable; and besides, there were men with him who scattered coins
to the multitude, and those coins were good. But the followers who
were nearest to him and Zeno, and who pressed round them both to
defend them, if need be, were almost all sailors, Venetian shipwrights
and workmen from the docks, though Tocktamish's Tartars were close
behind, making a tremendous shouting, and striking their long
tasselled spears against each other after their manner, with a clatter
of wood like a monstrous rattle; and other soldiers had joined them by
hundreds, and after them pressed the artisans of Constantinople, the
Bulgarian blacksmiths, the Italian stone-cutters and masons, the
Moorish armourers and the Syrian sword-smiths from Damascus, the
Sicilian rope-makers, the Persian silk-weavers, and the Smyrniote
carpet-weavers, and the linen-weavers from Alexandria with many
others; and every man who was not a soldier had something in his hand
for a weapon--a hammer, a mallet, or a carpet-maker's staff, or only a
stout cudgel. And they ran, and pushed, and forced their way through
the gate, spreading out again within the court, cheering and yelling
for Johannes in a dozen languages at once.
The Emperor John sat quite still on his horse, wrapped in his cloak,
but Zeno rode forward, till he was almost upon the knot of the guards
who had pulled down Andronicus, and he threw up his hand, crying out
to the men not to kill, in a voice that dominated the terrific din;
and he was but just in time, for he was only obeyed because he offered
a reward.
'Ten pounds of gold for Andronicus alive!' he shouted.
For that was the price Andronicus had set on his head that morning,
and what was enough for Zeno was enough for an Emperor. So half a
dozen of the guards dragged the man alive into the palace, and bound
him securely with his hands behind him, and stripped off his jewels
and his gold, and kicked him into a small secret room behind the
porter's lodge, and shut the door. There the corpse-faced man was
squatting in a dark corner, blowing some coals to a glow in an earthen
pan, because he might soon be called to do more work, and unless the
vinegar was really boiling hot the fumes of it would not put out the
eyesight. As Andronicus lay on the floor he could see the man.
But outside, the confusion grew and the noise increased as the people
poured into the vast courtyard and pressed behind upon those who had
entered before them.
Then the door of the tower in the corner was opened from within, and
the African mutes came out and joined the other soldiers, and from an
upper window the captain and his wife looked down, and by the help of
what she told him he understood that it was time to set his prisoner
free, if he did not mean to risk being torn to shreds by the people,
though he could not at all understand who it was whom he saw on
horseback in the torchlight, dressed in cloth of gold, with the
imperial head-dress on his head, for he knew well enough that so long
as the key of the upper prison hung at his own belt, Johannes could
not get out. Yet there was no mistaking the cry of the people, and his
wife urged him not to lose time.
The crowd was surging towards the tower now, led by Zeno and the
Emperor, and they and their sailors and dockmen kept in front of the
crowd to be the first to dismount and enter the tower, and then the
sailors kept the throng back, telling them that Johannes had gone in
to free his youngest son, and the two men who had the deep bags of
money threw lavish handfuls to the people, to amuse them while they
waited.
But when Zeno and the Emperor came out again, Johannes' face was all
uncovered, and the cloth-of-gold cope hung loosely on his shoulders;
and by the glare of many torches every one knew that it was Johannes
himself, and none other, and men cheered and yelled till they were
hoarse.
After the Emperor and Zeno came a man whom no one had seen go in with
them, and he had a very scanty dark beard and was dressed in quiet
brown, though he wore a horseman's boots, and he was Gorlias
Pietrogliant, who had acted so well the part which Zoë had imagined
for him.
But Zeno knew nothing of Arethusa, yesterday his slave, and since last
night the woman of his heart, for in the haste and stress of that
tremendous half-hour, Gorlias could tell him nothing, except that he
was Gorlias and not the Emperor, and that the deed giving Tenedos over
to Venice was signed and in his bosom; and Zeno supposed that he had
devised all the wonderful scheme, which looked so simple as soon as it
began to be carried out. Arethusa, he thought, was safe at home;
sleepless, worn out with waiting, trembling with anxiety, perhaps, but
safe. Now that the deed was done, now that Andronicus was bound, and
Johannes, his father, was restored to the throne, Carlo Zeno thought
only of leaving Constantinople without delay, before the Emperor could
take back his word, and revoke the cession of Tenedos. For Zeno did
not put his trust in Oriental princes, and feared the Greeks even when
they offered gifts. With a swift Venetian vessel and a fair wind, the
coveted island could be reached in two days, or even less; its
governor had always at heart been faithful to Johannes, and would obey
the deed which Gorlias had thrust into Zeno's hand in the tower, and
if once the standard of St. Mark were raised on the fort there was
small chance that any enemy would be able to tear it down.
Therefore, just when the soldiers were lifting Johannes from his horse
to carry him to the throne-room with wild triumph and rejoicing, Zeno
slipped from the saddle to escape notice, elbowed his way to the
outskirts of the crowd, and was on the point of making for the gate
when Gorlias found him again.
'Arethusa asks you to come to her,' Gorlias said.
'I am going----'
'No. She is here. It was all her plan; she risked her life for it, we
were a few moments late, and she has been tortured. Come quickly!'
Zeno's face changed. Gorlias saw that, even in the dim light of the
now distant torches. It was the change that comes into a master
swordman's face when he makes up his mind to kill, after only
defending himself because his adversary has tried some dastardly
murderous trick of fence. But Zeno said nothing as he strode swiftly
by his companion's side.
Gorlias had found her and had brought her into the lower chamber of
the tower, now deserted by the guards. The captain's wife had been
standing at the door, not daring to go out amongst the half-frantic
soldiers. She might have fared ill at their hands if she had been
recognised just then as the wife of the Emperor's gaoler. So she had
stood under the archway, watching and listening, and Gorlias had given
Zoë half-fainting into her care while he went to find Zeno.
She had taken the girl on her knees like a child, while she herself
sat on the narrow stone bench that ran round the wall, for there was
no furniture of any sort there. Zoë's head lay upon the shoulder of
the big woman who gently smoothed and patted the soft brown hair, and
rocked the light figure on her knees with a side motion as nurses do.
She did not know what was the matter, but she recognised the girl who
had brought the message and who had been caught outside the door.
Then Zeno came, and in a moment he was close beside Zoë; resting one
knee on the stone bench, bending down, and very tenderly lifting the
lovely head into his own arm.
She knew his touch, she turned her face up with a great effort, for
she had hardly any strength left, and her lids that were but
half-closed like a dying person's, quivered and opened, and for one
instant her eyes were full of light. Her voice came to him from far
off, almost from the other world.
'Safe! Ah, thank God! It was worth the pain!'
Then she fainted quite away in his arms, but he knew that she was not
dying, for he had seen many pass from life, and the signs were
familiar to him.
He gathered her to him and carried her lightly through the open door,
where Gorlias was ready; and Gorlias knew where Vito was waiting with
the skiff at the old landing not far below the tower, and he helped
the boatman to row them home.
Thus ended that long day, which had so nearly been Zoë's last and
Zeno's too; and when she opened her eyes again and found herself lying
on her own divan under the soft light of the lamps, and looked into
his anxious, loving face, all the weariness sank away from her own,
and for an instant she felt as strong as if she had freshly waked from
rest; then she put up her arms together, though it hurt her very much
to lift the left one, and she clasped her hands round his handsome
brown neck and drew him down to her without a word.
It was only for a moment. Her strength failed her again, and he felt
her little hands relax; so he knelt down by the divan and laid his
cheek upon the edge of her pillow, so that he could look into her
face, and they both smiled; and his smile was anxious, but hers was
satisfied. He did not know what they had done to her, but he was sure
that she needed care.
'You are suffering,' he said. 'What shall I do? Shall I send for a
physician?'
'No. Stay with me. Let me look at you. That is all I need.'
Her speech came in short, soft phrases, like kisses from lips
half-asleep, when there is a little dream between each sentence and
the next. But even when she was asleep he still knelt beside her, and
now and then her body quivered, and she drew a sharp breath suddenly
as if the pain she had borne ran through her again, though more in
memory than in real suffering now.