Part 68

She had come nearer. "Will the nobles in their far lands bow at her bidding? Never! They need a man to sway them, for the good of Cyprus--one who knoweth how to rule--of strength and constancy to shape their kingdom and make it great. For such a man the nobles would rise in their might."

"There is none such," he answered coldly, "and talk of treason--except it were a maid's wild dreaming--must be brought before the Council of the Realm. Unless thou hast confession of some real import to the State--or names that we should know--and for the telling much might be forgiven thee--I bid thee farewell. Truly it is hard for thee, my poor Dama Ecciva; but in thy heart thou knowest that the penalty could not be less.--May thy reason and the years soften it to thee."

She had not listened to his last words, but stood irresolute as he took his ceremonious farewell: then suddenly she sprang towards him and caught his hand to detain him. Her face had grown soft and eager.

"It is 'confession'!" she cried, "'of import to the State'--and 'names' that thou shouldst know. There are many nobles whom I could reach--I will name thee all their names when we have spoken together: those who suffer banishment with me are but a few. At word of mine they would kindle into fire and make a glory of Cyprus!" She had drawn herself up proudly, her eyes were flashing; she had clenched her small hands so tightly over his that he could not withdraw it.

"Poor child!" he said compassionately; "shall one woman rule them, and not another!--It is the madness of imprisonment and exile; it shall be forgiven thee."

He tried to make his escape, but she clung to his hand yet more closely, so that he could not move without dragging her with him.

"It is not forgiveness that I want," she cried furiously, "but comprehension. Canst thou not see! Have I not said that Cyprus hath need of a man to rule? Who led the people to storm the Fortress of Famagosta? Who ruled the city in quiet through those days of stress?--Thou art the man! Through me, who hold the key, thou shalt rule them well."

"I am a Venetian," he answered coldly; and no longer hesitating to use the needful force to unclasp the clinging, importunate hands. "From compassion have I shown too great patience with thy mad dreaming. I will direct that the Countess of Montferrat be permitted to come to thee now: for the galley must soon sail for Venice.--May the Madonna help thee!"

But as he reached the door a mocking laugh rang out and made him turn in surprise, for it was but a moment since he had instinctively averted his gaze, lest he should read too easily in her mobile face the emotion which she made no effort to conceal.

"Let us at least part with due ceremony, your Excellency," she said, "since we shall both have travelled to other worlds before we meet again: I--who might have been a Queen, hadst thou but believed my 'mad dreaming' and accepted my aid to make thee--that which should have made me thy Queen indeed, and thee a Sovereign of Cyprus!--had I but condescended so far!"

She swept him her most courtly reverence. "Adieu! Thou art a man indeed--like many another--to let a woman outwit thee and befool thee--so that even now thou knowest not within thy soul if she hath spoken truth,--or flattery to beguile thee; or 'mad dreaming'--for which, perforce, she 'may be forgiven,' and render thanks! Thou knowest not whether she hath, in truth, spoken to mislead thee that which should have brought the pride of thy superb Venice low--hadst thou but listened!--So much hath my 'confession' availed thee. O, most astute Venetian!"

She flung the words at him in triumphant tones, while he, in noble pity, stood speechless--having seen her face when she thought he had not seen; and she stood thus--radiant--defiant--until there was no longer an echo of footsteps back through the long vaulted corridor of the castle. Then the mocking smile died on her lips and eyes and she threw herself on her couch in a bitter paroxysm of passion.

"One may dare all, for a man of stone," she cried, "and yet not win! And I would have made him great--great beyond his dreams! O fool!--FOOL!"

XXXV

With the removal of the Court to Nikosia days of peace and sunshine had at last dawned for the distracted island kingdom--whether compassed by the wisdom of the astute and vigilant counsellors who sat close under the ear of the youthful Queen--by the superior force of the Venetian galleys, or by the winning charm of the Queen herself. The echoes of conspiracy had been stilled and the cities of Cyprus were taking new pride in their commerce, while they were growing richer in measures of philanthropy and education and that blossoming of arts and culture which only may adorn a court at leisure from petty wars and intrigues.

Early in these days of quiet Caterina had turned once more to her cousin the Bernardini, bidding him ask some favor at her hand--"For verily I owe thee more than I may repay."

"There could be never a debt between us, my cousin," he answered smiling: then with the ceremonious bow of a courtier, he added, with a singular mixture of gravity and playfulness: "I would remind your Majesty of a function of this Court which it hath never pleased my fair cousin to exercise. There is one among the maids of honor--most rare and noble--bounden by special vows of fealty, as a Dama di Maridaggio, to marry at the command of her Sovereign."

He stood before her quite unabashed and smiling, while she scanned him in surprise.

"Margherita de Iblin?" she questioned, half unbelieving.

"Margherita!" he answered, radiantly; "there is no other."

"And how--if when I name the other two which custom doth demand for this ceremonial, she shall find a knight more to her liking?" Caterina asked teasingly.

"Name one; and name him thrice," he answered boldly.

"Little I dreamed thee, Aluisi, so poor a knight that thou shouldst lack the courage to plead thine own cause," she exclaimed in amusement. "And of what avail a gift that is not free?"

He joined frankly in her laugh.

"Nay," he said; "the case is quite otherwise. For she will not say me nay, fair Cousin, because--in sooth some day she shall tell me why; and I count myself too leal a knight to tell it--if I knew--before she shall bid me speak. For the cause hath been pleaded and not rejected; and the gift hath been given, but not confessed; which, were it not thus, I should seek no aid--having no mind to steal, were it even the heart of a maid. But now it is rather wit than 'courage' that I lack, to outwit my lady--may those forgive me who hold her favor!"

"I will right heartily forgive thee, so but thou win it," Caterina assured him. "Yet if she hath not said thee nay--what lackest thou of favor?"

He was suddenly grave. "She will not say me 'yea,'" he answered her, "lest the speaking of the word which she foldeth close in her heart until she giveth her rare self leave to utter it, should make her somewhat less to her Sovereign Lady--who, she hath most solemnly assured me--hath need of us both--and thus--with no bond between her two loyal servitors but their loyalty to their Queen."

"Shall mine be less because of their happiness?" Caterina questioned indignantly. "Nay, but much less--much less, without it!--Where is the Dama Margherita?"