Part 39

"We hold this palace for our Queen," they said, "and for no traitorous Council. May the holy Saints in Heaven curse them roundly who forced us to do their bidding, when we thought ourselves serving Her Majesty!"

"How came ye so many here?" she asked in astonishment, as they still gathered from the farther courts--a number far greater than the usual Palace-guard--chiefly a company of knights and men entitled to bear arms, but among them many of the more peaceful citizens.

"Whom serve ye all?" She looked keenly from face to face: her words seemed a challenge.

"Caterina Regina!" they cried in concert, with every man's right hand upraised, calling Heaven to witness.

One, with signs of authority stepped forward to explain.

"Eccellenza, we are in command of the Lord Chamberlain Bernardini, who, since he fought his way through the false guard placed before this palace to serve the treachery of the Council, hath not ceased to gather men of metal throughout the city, till enough shall come to claim the Queen's release. For the cries of the women and unarmed weaklings clamoring under the walls of the fortress for her release, are but impotent wails to tickle the pride of those fiends of Naples."

"Bring me to the Bernardini, for I must speak with him on matter, it may be, of life, or death."

"Eccellentissima, the Lord Chamberlain hath not stayed his foot since this horror began--nor may we see his face until he hath done the possible to gather strength for an uprising to chase these devils of Naples."

"Dear men!" she cried, "it is a task!--I speak, not to stay your loyal hands, but to open your eyes that ye be prepared and fail not. The Commander of Famagosta hath men and arms behind those impregnable walls, and all the wicked strength of his cunning Council to direct them,--Rizzo and Fabrici--masters in intrigue--and the men of the galleys of Naples at the tower in the port, commanding land and sea. Without more force it is impossible!"

"Dear Lady, the Bernardini lacketh no courage, and he commandeth. He hath sworn that we shall save the Queen. The Admiral will come from Nikosia; and the galleys of Venice will haste to the rescue, Pazienza! We are bidden to keep the peace and secrecy until the moment shall be ripe; but to die in defense of this palace, which we hold for Her Majesty as a place of refuge."

"Dost bring us news of her. How fares it with Her Majesty?"

"For that I came!" cried Dama Margherita, her voice ringing through the hall like a leader's call to arms; "to bring news of her to her own! How should it fare with a Queen made captive in her own stronghold?--With a mother whose child hath been stolen from her?--With a woman struggling with such anguish?"

"The Prince!--Our King! Sanctissima Maria! San Marco confound the knaves!"

Every man's hand sought his sword with a murmured oath of loyalty and vengeance. Questions stormed upon her: but she commanded silence with a gesture.

It was news indeed; no hint of it had passed beyond the walls of the Fortress.

"Of where he may be hidden, naught is known. Yet the galley of Naples lieth in our port, and one may reach it at low tide over the shallows--a few feet away from the tower of the Fort. It were easy to carry the child there unseen."

"Aye; it were easy--and not so hard to find him--if he were there."

"Nay, but to hold him when found! Do it not rashly, lest harm come to him. The Bernardini will plan the emprise. Tell him the Lady Margherita came at risk of life--in this disguise--to put his true men on the quest. Tell him----"

She was interrupted by an exclamation.

"Margherita!--the Lady de Iblin--thus!"

The Bernardini had just entered the court of the Palace.

A vivid flush rose to her cheek, but she stood quite still in the place where he had found her, and he came and bent his knee and kissed her hand with the customary homage.

"Else might I not have crossed the Piazza," she said, "nor left the gate of the Castle. It is easy to forfeit one's head at a moment of wrath where Rizzo commandeth! And one--a guard within the Fortress, friend to our cause unguessed of the Council--hath lent me this disguise that I might bring thee my so weighty tidings of woe."

"'So weighty tidings of woe?'" he echoed startled.

"These will tell it thee," she went on hurriedly, "for I must be returned to my chamber ere the change of guard--lest he be called on duty and fail to respond with this full toggery of steel, because he hath shown me this favor."

"The Queen?" he gasped.

"The Queen still liveth; but--oh, my Lord, Aluisi!"--her voice broke and her lips quivered, she stretched out her hands to him, the nervous fingers interlaced in a passion of pleading--"they have stolen the baby-Prince: she will go mad if they keep him from her!"

"They shall not!" he thundered with a terrible oath: he--whose speech was fair as a woman's. "Tell her we pledge our lives to find him--to save them both--all these and many more."