Naples also found the moment propitious for re-asserting her baseless
claims to this much-disputed crown; since the death of the infant King
had left the Queen without a successor in her own line, and might
dispose her to look with favor on the proffer of the hand of Don Alfonso
of Naples who would graciously consent to accept the position of
King-consort--instead of that of "Prince of Galilee," which had not
proved to be the imposing, permanent honor his partisans had fondly
hoped.
Meanwhile, with the persistence worthy of a better cause, his supporters
had ingeniously thrust him forward--a compliant puppet--from one scheme
into another--all tending toward this same noble end. Immediately after
the failure of Rizzo's conspiracy, he had been betrothed to the
illegitimate daughter of King Janus--one of the three children mentioned
in his will--who with her two brothers, had been sent to Venice to avert
possible disastrous consequences; a small following in Cyprus upheld
this match--so eager were they that some descendant of their charmer
King Janus, should keep the crown of their realm, that they granted the
Neapolitan Prince Alfonso the shadowy title of "Prince of Galilee."
But after the death of his young betrothed, Alfonso had followed
Carlotta to Alexandria, where Rizzo now held the honorable post of
Ambassador to the Sultan from the Court of Naples; and here, while
Venice was still playing her game, sub-rosa without the overt confession
of power that came later--Rizzo, the arch-schemer, first sought to bring
about the adoption of the prince of Naples by Carlotta--as
heir-presumptive to her rights; and later, as her following among the
Cyprian nobility increased, proposed Alfonso for _husband_ to Carlotta.
But now, since the strength of Venice could be no longer doubted, Rizzo,
holding ever in view the ascendancy of his chief and with an astounding
faith in his own magnificent insolence, rose to the occasion, and sailed
on a secret embassy for Cyprus to propose the hand of Alfonso to Queen
Caterina herself!
The details of this romantic intrigue were not known until long
afterward in the court-circle, except by the few who had intercepted and
frustrated the carefully-laid plans; but there were many hints of some
concealed happening of deep interest which made delightful themes for
romantic conjecture whenever the younger maids of honor found themselves
happily without the dignified supervision of the Lady of the Bernardini
and Madama di Thenouris, or the equally-to-be-evaded younger
maid-of-honor, Margherita de Iblin.
"Something has happened, and no one tells us anything," one of them
declared discontentedly when curiosity had reached an unbearable pitch,
and the rumors of which they had caught echoes were growing in interest.
"There was a fire high upon the hills one morning; some say it was a
beacon fire."
"There are always rumors that mean nothing," said Eloisa quietly.
Dama Margherita had been kept in close attendance upon the Queen, who
had been often in counsel with the Counts of the Chamber of late, and
Eloisa had an uneasy sense that it devolved upon her to uphold the
quietness of discussion for which Dama Margherita always strove.
"Nay, Eloisa--that strange craft, hiding back of the great rock on the
coast--without lights or colors--why was it anchored there, in sight of
the signal-fire, instead of in the port where it had been safer?"
"Thou wilt have it a beacon-fire," Eloisa interposed again; "it is in
truth more romantic than a blaze some wanderer may have lighted to do
duty for his camp."
But no one answered her, they were all humming about Dama Ecciva,
interrupting each other with excited questions; for Dama Ecciva had
been, if possible, more mysterious and tantalizing than ever since these
rumors had been afloat--which was a sign that she could tell something
if she would. "So, my pretty friends!" she answered with a silvery
laugh, "for once it entereth your thought that there be matters about
which we--the Maids of honor of Her Majesty--are not worthy to hear!"
"I make exception of the Dama Margherita, to whom Her Majesty is
honey-sweet!" she added, as her glance rested on Eloisa; and growing hot
as she dwelt upon the thought, she went on--"she hath a manner quite
insufferable--she, who hath not more right than I to rule this court. If
one were to put the question to our knights--'an Iblin or a de
Montferrat?' would it make a pretty tourney for a Cyprian holiday?"
She laughed a mocking, malicious laugh; then suddenly stretched out one
slender hand and made a descriptive motion as of tossing her glove into
the centre of a distant circle--her eyelids narrowing until they seemed
almost to close--a strange light escaping from them--her breath coming
with slow pants, as if from suffocation--the hand dropped at her side
betraying her passion by convulsive movements trembling through the
tinted finger-tips.
In the bizarre Cyprian costume which many of the ancient Greek
patricians still retained, she seemed of a different mold from the young
Venetian gentlewomen of the court of Caterina--like some fantastic fury,
half-elf, half-woman.
"_The Melusina!_" Eloisa whispered, shuddering: "thou mindest me of her.
I like thee not in this strange mood!" while the others drew away from
her with a faint cry of protest.
But Ecciva's momentary mood of passion passed as quickly as it came; and
she answered her companions with a tantalizing, sparkling smile,
rallying them on their seriousness, and flashing whimsicalities around
the circle like some splendid, inconsequent fire-fly.
Her dark hair, woven with coins and trinkets, fell in innumerable long
slender braids behind, from under a coronet of jessamine blossoms strung
together upon strips of palm, which clasped the clustering waves of hair
closer about her face--pure and colorless as old ivory. Her robe, of
green brocade, richly embroidered with gold, fell over full pantaloons
of scarlet satin which were tightly bound about the slender ankles by
jewelled bands, displaying to advantage the tiny feet, clad in boots of
soft, yellow kid, fantastically wrought with gold threads; the robe
parted over a bodice of yellow, open at the throat, around which chains
of gold and jewels were wound in undue profusion.
"It is thou, perchance, Ecciva, who knowest not how to win the favor of
Dama Margherita," ventured one maiden, bolder than the rest; "for with
us hath she ever been most gracious. And for Her Majesty, the Queen----"
But a sudden impulse had come to Ecciva to cover herself with glory by
making her companions sharers in the news of which she had gotten
knowledge by a fashion peculiarly her own.
"Nay: leave the Queen to the Dama Margherita for this one blissful
morning," she interrupted without ceremony: "for I have news--verily;
and they may return ere it be told. Which of you knoweth aught of the
Holy Sister Violante--she of the down-held lids and silent ways--who
slipped into the court the night of that _great signal fire_ upon the
mountain, behind the citadel?"
She scanned the eager faces triumphantly, but no one had anything to
tell.
"For verily the Sister Violante maketh part of this strange mystery,"
she proceeded after a moment of impressive silence. "She and the great
signal fire--of which no one knew aught!--so innocent were all the
gentlemen of the court--and the Bernardini most of all! But they are
parts of one romance; and the Violante came to influence Her Majesty;
the Violante, with her devout ways, wearing the habit of a holy
sisterhood to which her gracious Majesty is wont to give undue
reverence--being not apt to penetrate an intrigue--too fair a saint, by
far!--The Sister Violante came to win Her Majesty to acquiesce in some
strange bidding from Rhodes; or perchance from the Sultan himself."
"How knowest thou, Ecciva?" They crowded around her thrilling with
pleasant excitement--the craving for which was unduly whetted by the
splendor and aimlessness of the life of this Eastern court--for a
romance with such a beginning might have an indefinitely delightful
termination; and Dama Ecciva had some strange knack of always knowing
more than others of any savory morsel of gossip of which there might be
hints in the air.
She looked at them nonchalantly, well-pleased at any sort of dominance,
but never confessing it by her attitude.
"Have I not eyes?" she questioned, with tantalizing slowness; "and
ears?--Are they to grow dull for lack of usage?"
"Nay; tell us, Ecciva."
She drew nearer and lowered her voice mysteriously. "That Tristan de
Giblet--he who would have killed the King the night that he climbed the
city-walls and fled to Rhodes--we know the tale----"
"Aye, aye; we know it. And then?"--they pleaded impatiently.
But Dama Ecciva was not to be swerved from the irritating composure
which pleased her mood for the moment:
"And one of us--hath any one seen Alicia de Giblet? She hath not been
among us since that night of the _signal fire_."
"She hath been ill, in the Chateau de Giblet this month past," several
voices responded at once.
"Perchance, sweet maids;--or in some other less splendid castle where
dungeons are of more account than the fine banquet hall of the de
Giblet! And because Alicia is sister to this Messer Tristan--I have done
much thinking of late--it is time for the Bernardini to return. Let us
give over talk."
"Alicia de Giblet was sister to that traitor!" one of them exclaimed
indignantly; "and we never dreamed it! But she was _gentilissima_;
_poverina_! Ah, the pity of it!"
"But how came she ill, 'because of it,' as thou sayest, Ecciva?" Eloisa
questioned, wishing ever to have a reason for her beliefs; "it was long
since!"
"The night of the King's flight was long since--verily--before his
coronation. Carlotta was Queen, then;--there have been wars and death
and woe enough since then! But this night of the signal fire is but a
month agone--and _that night came Tristan de Giblet to talk with his
sister_, who let him into the Palazzo Reale. The daring of the man! We
are not cowards--we Cyprians!"
"Ecciva!--how canst thou verily be sure!"
She touched her eyes again, mysteriously.
"I knew him," she said, "when he was talking with his sister, and I
heard her promise him to bring him into the private audience chamber of
the Queen."
"And thou, also, wert there?"
"Am I the Margherita to be shown such favor? Nay, but I have an
audience-chamber of my own from the window of my turret when there is no
light within: and all that day I knew by the face of Alicia that there
was some intrigue--which I was not one to miss through heedlessness!
Alicia was watching for him that night; and I knew his face when I saw
them together on the terrace. And with them was another man--wrapped in
a cloak--the feather of his hat drooping low over his face.--And his
face--I never turned my eyes away from him and I saw it for a moment
when the wind swept his feather aside--his face was the face
of--_Rizzo!_" she whispered the name.
"Nay, nay, Ecciva--not he! It could not be _he_!"
"Nay, my trusting children; believe your betters, if you will! As for
me--I trust these eyes, rather than the uncertain speech of those who
teach us what we _may_ believe. These eyes are good eyes! They have not
failed me yet!"
She laughed lightly, satisfied with the impression her tale had made, as
she turned away indifferently; but they were eager for the rest.
"There is more, Ecciva!--that which cometh after?--_subito_--for the
Lady of the Bernardini might return!" They were all clamoring about her.
"And Alicia verily brought him to the Queen's audience-chamber?"
"Nay--bide my time, chatterers, if you would hear the tale--for it hath
a sequel--we do not often get one good enough to be spoiled by a too
hasty telling.--Rizzo, for it was verily he--can any one forget
Rizzo!--he turned from them and began to climb the mountain, there,
where the signal fire glowed later. And Tristan, the handsome knight,
came into the palace with his sister; and after them come following the
holy sister Violante--she who came hither from Rhodes some days before."
"Go on!" they cried eagerly, crowding closer. She waved them away from
her.
"There is no more," she answered provokingly--"save that which we all
know; _the signal-fire_, and the _galley floating below by the coast,
half hidden by the great rock_--for that also I saw from my
turret--thanks be to the Madonna for lifting the mortal dulness! And I
left sleep for better things that night; for it was well-nigh the hour
of matins when the galley set sail for Venice."
"But the audience with the Queen?"
"There was no audience. For I bethought me of somewhat I had _forgotten_
in the ante-chamber--not to miss the knowledge of what was passing--and
I sped me thither. And then there was naught left to do but to hide me,
somewhat weak of heart, in the tapestry of the ante-chamber; for the
door was wide into the Queen's salon, and there was His Excellency the
Bernardini, flashing scorn in his speech, so that one thought the air
would break into flames--he, the while, standing still enough for an
image of a wrathful Kinyras; the Queen's guard was around him, all in
full armor--a doughty corps of men to meet those three!--Alicia, white
as a spirit, weeping against Tristan; and Violante, shaken out of her
holy calm, kneeling to pray His Excellency's grace!"
"And then----?"
"And then they left the Queen's chamber and I dared not creep forth
until all was quiet again. But I heard His Excellency's speech as he
stood bowing in the doorway when the guards led Tristan forth--a model
of courtesy one would have said--for I could see him through a parting
in the arras though I risked my life in standing there--'Her Majesty'
said the Bernardini--very fair of speech--'doth surely owe such escort
to the Illustrissimo, the Seigneur de Giblet, for the attention he would
fain have offered in his own person to King Janus, in his Episcopal
Palace before he wore the crown of the realm.' And the Seigneur de
Giblet, not to be outdone--being Cyprian--answers him--very proud and
cold--'Is your Excellency ever so faithful to reward a service
_contemplated, but not achieved_?' For he had meant to smother the King
in his sleep that night, if Janus had not escaped to Egypt."
They were all silent until Ecciva, less overcome by these tragic
memories, resumed her story.
"And after that, Tristan came no more; nor his sister, the fair Alicia;
nor Rizzo, the dark-browed. Nor was it many days ere Violante, the most
holy sister, had left the court.--Ask the Provveditori!"
"But what message did they bring Her Majesty?"
"Am I a noble of _Venice_ that I should know this mystery which toucheth
our realm of Cyprus?" she answered scornfully. "Ask the Bernardini, or
the Dama Margherita--to whom he confesseth all his soul!"
"But Rizzo?" Eloisa asked, bewildered.
"And Rizzo--when he had lighted the signal fire on the
mountain--thinking perchance, there had been time for the meeting with
the Queen which Alicia had promised Tristan--and the galley had come to
shore beneath and waited for him,--went on board, nothing doubting,
thinking to return to Rhodes--who knoweth?--To Carlotta perchance;--but
he found the galley _manned with mariners from the arsenal of Venice_;
and Tristan coming to set sail for Venice, with the Queen's guard, all
in full armor, to speed him on his way: _and a Venetian General in
command, in lieu of the African Captain of the galley who brought him
hither_. For one may seek in vain to outwit a Venetian; one must admire
them for that, though it work us woe!"
"It is thine own tale, verily, Ecciva; thou speakest to mock us!"
"Nay--faith of Sant'Elena, it is true and sad enough--if there were not
sadder to come. For Tristan, the gallant, handsome knight, being in
chains, and fearing worse awaited him when he should reach Venice,
wrenched the diamond from a ring he wore and kneaded it into the bread
they served him for his breakfast, and swallowed it--and so there was an
end."
They still looked at her incredulously--"How shouldst thou know this
tale of horror more than others--if it were true?"
She shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "If one maketh wise use of
opportunity, one need not always wait the telling. But to-morrow the
court will be ringing with the tale; it cometh but now from Venice."
"But Rizzo?"
"He is there in Venice in the _pozzi_; and the end will not be easy like
that of Tristan. For he is the greatest traitor of them all--verily a
traitor almost sublime. It were not so difficult to admire the nerve of
the man!--Rizzo----"
But her further speech was lost in the babel of expostulation and
question that broke forth, and which would have lasted long but for the
return of Madama di Thenouris and Dama Margherita.