The court had been recently thrown into consternation by the discovery
of a plot to seize the various citadels of the island and hold them for
Carlotta. It was evidently well supported and far advanced, as disclosed
by the intercepted letters addressed to some unknown person, which had
been laid before the Council; all who were mentioned as partisans or
confidants in this intrigue were designated under assumed names, but the
knowledge which these papers gave the Council was of immense value,
enabling them to provide that all the garrisons of Cyprus should be
commanded by men of known loyalty to the Queen. Meanwhile vigorous
efforts were being made to discover the identity of the person addressed
as
"_L'Illustrissima,
Madama di Niuna._"
But no light had been thrown upon the matter, although it had been
openly discussed in the court-circle.
Dama Margherita had noticed with uneasiness that Ecciva de Montferrat,
who was usually on the alert for any excitement, had seemed singularly
apathetic when this subject had been broached, and she felt that the
trust reposed in her by the Admiral required her to mention her
suspicions to Madama di Thenouris, although she shrank from this duty
the more because she knew that Dama Ecciva was supposed to be exerting
some secret influence against herself.
"Dear Madama di Thenouris," she said appealingly, "it seems so much the
more ungracious on my part. Yet it is treachery to our Queen. And if it
should be that Dama Ecciva hath been receiving these letters and holding
such part in these intrigues--to leave her where she hath free access to
the court-circle.--But it cannot be true; she is too young to be so
faithless! And if she need not know that I have hinted of my fears? It
would seem like some petty revenge--yet I cannot be false to my trust!"
"Thank heaven thou canst not, Margherita, since others find it easy! Yet
we must watch for our own assurance, and may thy fears prove naught!
Comfort thy soul, for _some_ one is guilty, and the finding of the
culprit will clear all others of suspicion."
* * * * *
"It is most strange about these letters," Madama di Thenouris said
later, as the young maids of honor sat around her with their embroidery
frames. "Tell me, Ecciva----"
There was a sudden convulsive movement of the girl's arm and she gave an
exclamation of annoyance as the golden thread snapped in her needle; but
she did not look up.
Madama di Thenouris, closely watching, saw that her fingers trembled so
that she could scarcely hold her needle.
"Tell me," she pursued in her leisurely fashion, after a slight pause,
while Ecciva's needle still remained unthreaded, "what method shall we
take to discover the identity of this unknown 'illustrissima'--this
_Madama di Niuna_?"
The girl's alarm grew evidently less; but it was a moment more before
she answered:
"Why doth your Excellency thus honor me, in calling me in counsel? There
are others whose opinion would carry more weight."
"Nevertheless, since I have asked thee, give me thy thought."
"_Madama di Niuna_," the young maid of honor exclaimed petulantly,
forgetting her deference, "there is no Madama di Niuna!--How should I
know?" The silk was hopelessly knotted and twisted about the tiny pearl
she had just threaded, requiring close attention; Madama di Thenouris
also seemed to watch her work with interest.
"Thou art right, my child, thou art over-young to have any knowledge of
so despicable an intrigue. But the matter is naturally of deep concern
for us all," she added, as Ecciva, having recovered her perfect
self-control lifted her eyes to Madama di Thenouris with a smile that
was intended to thank her for her trust, while assuring her that there
was no possible ground for supposing that she had any knowledge of this
intrigue.
But the gray-haired court-lady met her gaze searchingly and with no
answering smile--she who could be so gracious.
"The Council will follow a clue upon which they have just chanced, and
which may lead to the discovery. If Madama di Niuna would come forward
to confess," she pursued with quiet emphasis, "it might lessen the
penalty for participation in this intrigue--which some among the Council
tell us can be nothing less than death."
There was a murmur of abhorrence from the young voices about her, but
Dama Ecciva was quite silent, although there had been a motion of her
blanched lips as if to speak, and Madama di Thenouris still held her
fascinated gaze. Her eyes had suddenly dilated with a look of terror,
yet almost instantly reassumed their long oval shape--the lids closing
to more than their narrow wont: her embroidery had slipped to the floor,
as she rose, and she was treading it under her feet--bruising and
grinding it passionately, as if it were some safe, unnoticed outlet to
the fear and anger that might smother her. She had flung out her hands
desperately, the dainty tapering fingers working with strenuous, nervous
motions--but now they were tightly clenched in the rose-leaf palms, and
she stood bracing herself, like a statue of defiance. There was an added
pallor on the beautiful ivory face--so still she was she scarcely seemed
to breathe--yet all at tension--like some wild thing of the tropical
forest, suddenly brought to bay, summoning all her strength for the leap
that was to free her.
But she might rage in vain against the invisible meshes that held her,
although it was but for a brief moment that Madama di Thenouris had
searched her soul in silent confession.