Part 12

"How quelled?"

"So soon as discovery of the plot was made--before any steps had been taken to carry out their plans."

"How quelled?" she asked again, dissatisfied.

"The manner of it was not reported to me," he answered truthfully enough; "I knew not that the question would be put to me," he added with an attempt to turn easily from a subject on which he dared not speak freely to matter more nearly touching his office--of her commands for Venice for the galley that was to sail on the morrow. But meanwhile the vision of horror rose before him of that which he had seen with his own eyes; and lest, watching him so closely she should learn too much, he dropped his gaze, feigning to seek for some items on the tablet he held in his hand. How should he tell her the story of this plot to influence an uprising, to wrest the stronghold of Cerines for Carlotta, the rival claimant and heir? How explain this conspiracy against her husband when she probably knew nothing of what lay beneath it? How could he speak of the staunch loyalty to Carlotta of the leader of this conspiracy, of whom the disaffected were making a hero, and who had preferred any fate to the necessity of swearing fealty to Janus! He had shuddered at the barbarism which could decree such a fate for the conspirators; nor could he forget the horror of those bodies cut in bits, and swung on high, in the four quarters of the town--a ghastly warning for all men to see--as they walked to and fro in the marvellous great city of Nikosia--the city of luxury and of churches.

But if the treatment of traitors in Venice was scarcely less barbarous, yet the State seemed to each son of the Republic a more awe-inspiring and less personal entity than a kingly head of any other government, justifying severer punishment when betrayed; Venetians had been brought up to feel that a traitor could ask for no milder fate than to swing high upon the Piazzetta between the columns--those who thought otherwise might avoid looking up as they passed.

He would not start her questions when it was not for him to answer them. He caught helplessly at some court trifles, trying to evade her mood; but she silenced him with an impatient exclamation.

When he raised his eyes he found her still watching him, with a pathetic, questioning look.

"They keep things from me, as if I were a child!" she cried indignantly. "Can I be a friend to our people if I do not understand them? There are many things that I would know--the fiefs--the ancient nobles--Carlotta. They told me little in Venice of the things I need to know."

"What things?" the Chamberlain asked helplessly.

She looked at him searchingly. "To whom shall I go if not to thee, Aluisi? Art thou not enough my friend to help me?"

"Messer Andrea, our cousin, being high in favor with his Majesty, hath a more intimate knowledge of Cyprian matters--I being new in the land--why not appeal to him? Was it not by him that our sweet Lady came hither?"

She thought of the King's favorite, her Uncle Andrea Cornaro, as Bernardini spoke--debonair, charming--yet with a power of scorn and haughtiness beneath his facile exterior which won him the hatred of those who were not his friends. He had not found time for any serious talk with his niece, who had already appealed to him; indeed he had no time for anything but the brilliant surface life of the court, where he was a ruling spirit. After his own fashion he had been more than kind and generous to Caterina, showering her with princely gifts, eager that his niece should keep such estate as befitted the bride of Janus, and proud of his own part in securing so great an honor for the Casa Cornaro.

But among the ancient nobles of Cyprus, there were some who resented the knowledge of their King's great indebtedness to this Venetian nobleman.

The cousins Cornaro and Bernardini were of the same generation, and no less anxious for the honor of their house, but they represented opposite poles of Venetian character; Bernardini's gravity and dignity of demeanor concealed a depth of tenderness and consideration which he rarely confessed, yet, a true Venetian statesman, he could observe in silence, nor use his knowledge until it might be of some avail. The King disliked him, fearing his silent judgment, and was already considering how he might get him out of the Queen's household without offense to Venice, whose favor was important for him. Of the Cornaro, although he owed him much, he was less in fear; for Andrea Cornaro was one whom he might meet with his own weapons. The bearing and deference of Bernardini were unimpeachable, but Janus was impatient of his impenetrable reserve.

Caterina laid her hand affectionately on her cousin's arm, in response to his question. "Aluisi," she said gravely, "my Uncle Andrea hath been more than kind--as to a child who asketh only baubles: but, truly, he will not see that one may not rest content to be always a child: he thinketh, perchance, that for women there is no duty but to move regally in the midst of a splendor where he would verily pour out his fortune. A question fretteth his mood, which persistence maketh not more serious. But in a kingdom where discontent hath a share, one must study the heart of the people and win it, if one may. And this is my way to help my husband. The look of the peasants maketh me weary--as if the sunshine of their beautiful land were not for them. I miss the happy faces of our people of Venice!"

"It is a queen-like task," he answered her, a little wondering at her gravity and purpose. "Meanwhile I will talk with the King's Chamberlain about the fiefs and about the old nobility," he continued, eagerly seizing the least tangled thread to draw this uncomfortable conversation to a close; "would not the Lady Margherita de Iblin know far better than I? Shall I ask my mother to send her hither?"

The Lady Margherita--the one of all her Cyprian maids of honor who had most warmly won her friendship--there was no older nor more noble family in the island than the De Iblin; why had she not thought of her before!

"Aye, bid her come hither," she answered, well-pleased; "we will rest together in the heat of the day and she shall tell me many things of Cyprus."

But the Chamberlain felt some uneasiness as he went in search of the Cyprian lady who was to be the Queen's companion in more than one long, frank talk. If she were to presume too much upon Caterina's knowledge and speak too freely, what might happen when the King returned? Might he not vent his displeasure on Aluisi himself? And if he were to be dismissed to Venice, who would watch for her as he could do--protect and help her?

But it was true that she ought not to be kept in ignorance of Cyprian affairs, and she herself had made the demand.

In the days that followed, Cyprus began to unfold strange problems for the Queen, as its story fell from the lips of the young Cyprian woman whose confidence she had so freely invited.

"Tell me I pray thee of Carlotta--Sister to the King--all that thou knowest," she said.

"It is a long tale, your Majesty."

"And these summer-days will be long, while the King is at the chase; we must seek wherewith to give them some new interest, for the Court is dull without him," she flushed like a shy, young girl, adding as if to cover her show of feeling: "it is dull with so many absent."

The Lady Margherita was some years older than Caterina, and she felt the gravity of the task that the Queen had imposed upon her--to tell of the contest between her husband and his sister: she was silent in her perplexity.

"It is a matter of history," she said slowly. "Doubtless your Majesty knew that many of us in Cyprus had taken oath of fealty to Carlotta before the Sultan sent us Janus and upheld him for our King. It is a difficult tale to speak of before our Sovereign lady--whom we love."

She looked up, a smile transforming her grave, dark face and deep, sad eyes; the rare sweetness and directness of the young Queen's nature had already won her reverent love: but suddenly, as the Lady Margherita looked at her she grew aware of the unsuspected fund of strength beneath the gracious girlish exterior, realizing that the spring of her actions would be in true nobility--not in selfish pleasure. Might not some good for her dear land come from the enlightened love of its youthful Queen? Yet she hesitated to bring any shadow into the life which had seemed all sunshine during these few months of bridal festivity, and the Queen was young to look at life through such serious eyes. But she had asked, and the King, who was still a lover, might be steadied by his wife's influence.

Caterina put out her hand in response to the smile and clasped that of Margherita.