A Little page who had been leaning on the marble parapet beyond the
terrace, came stealthily and beckoned to a comrade on the steps of the
loggia.
"A troop of horse were coming across the plain," he explained in low,
agitated tones, as the other reached his side, and followed him back to
the post where he had been watching. "I saw them all the time Dama
Margherita was reciting--Holy Mother, but it was long!--I thought the
King was coming, and it was I that should carry the news to her
Majesty--I came near crying out! But I could not see his orange plume,
and I waited. They came slowly--_Santissima Vergine!_ _He was not
there!_"
He clutched his comrade's doublet with a trembling hand and turned an
ashen face towards him.
"What ailest thee, Tristan?--thou who art already a damoiseau and shalt
be a true knight? Thou art verily dreaming--I see nothing."
"They are gone within--in the first great court of the palace--those who
came. They were the King's gentlemen--_all_ the King's gentlemen--Messer
Andrea among them. I thought the champing would have roused the Queen
who hath been watching all the day. I am not afraid----" he gasped; "but
it was so horrible!--Thou knowest, Guido, Messer Andrea never leaveth
the King."
The boy's eyes were dark with fear.
"He will come with the others--he will surely, surely come," Guido
asseverated.
They clasped each other close and pressed their fresh cheeks together,
trembling so that they could scarcely speak, yet struggling to be brave,
as became little pages that should be knights.
"They were so long," poor Tristan said in a choking whisper, "and it was
so still--_so still_--no music, and they returning from the chase!
And--when they came nearer, I thought I saw his horse, but I could not
see a rider--and I thought, I thought--perhaps because it _was_
dark--and I ran down the front of the palace to get nearer when they
crossed the bridge. Ah, but the tramp was dreadful! And--and--it was his
horse, and a squire leading him--and--behind them--oh Guido!--_Then I
knew_."
"We will be knights, Tristan mio," Guido whispered, wiping away his
comrade's tears while his own were falling; and then, straining each
other convulsively, they broke down in sobs together.
* * * * *
Dama Ecciva stole up the steps from the terrace, and catching Eloisa's
hand, dragged her forcibly away.
"Come quickly," she whispered, with chattering teeth, "_Santa Maria
Vergine!_ I am so frightened. Oh, the poor, poor Queen! That was why she
hath been so strange--she hath truly seen the vision. Poverina, it
breaks one's heart! And he but a week away! So gay and debonair, and
beautiful as a god!"
There was no mistaking her wild eyes.
"Tell me!" Eloisa gasped.
"I was there in the pergola, and I saw them come--the _frati_ from the
Troodos in the midst of the troop of horse--with--with IT.--Oh
Eloisa, _it was true!_--They are telling her now."
* * * * *
There was a stir in the great audience-chamber back of the loggia where
Caterina sat--a sound of hesitant feet, as of many who came unwillingly,
unutterably weary from the dull weight of evil tidings.
The muffled footsteps roused her from her revery and she turned her head
and saw them coming. Her heart stood still for fear.
Messer Andrea came before the others, falteringly--as if youth had died
out of him: he was pale and strange and no words fell from his blanched
lips during that long instant while he crossed the interminable stretch
between them, and Caterina waited, with all her tortured soul crying out
for Janus.
Then the King's favorite, with the cruel story written in his anguished
eyes, turned them full upon hers for one moment, that she might
_know_--then bowed his head upon his breast and opened his arms, as if
he fain would shelter her--
"Caterina----" he said--"Child----"