"Unharmed?" said Zuan Gradenigo, watching the woman's eyes.
"Unharmed, lord," she said. "A maid, as she came. Indeed"—there seemed to be a glimmer of a smile at the woman's lips—"indeed, I think she has not been unhappy, this Natalia of Ragusa. I think she has learned to feel a certain fondness for her mistress. I think she would serve her in any way she could." The smile was a wry smile now. "Even so vile a thing as I, lord," said the woman of abomination, "can be tender and—faithful. Even so vile a thing as I is sometimes loved. An evil woman, Messer Zuan, is not all evil. There is something of good in the very lowest."
"Princess! Princess!" cried the man.
"And now," she said, "I must tell you what must be told; but, lord, before I tell it will you say to me once more what you have said—that for my sake, to be with me alone, you stand willing—nay, glad—to give up your city and your rank and your friends? Will you say to me that I, woman of infamy though men call me, am dearer to you than everything else in the world?" She came close to him, putting out her two hands upon his breast, and her great eyes burned up into his, and her face seemed for the instant to sharpen, to pale, and her lips trembled.
"Will you tell me once again?" she said, pleading.
"I could not—live without you—child," he said, and she cried out with joy at the name. He had called her "child" on the night before when he did not know who she was.
She stood away from him at arm's-length.
"Now then, at last," she said, "I will tell you what you must know. Lord, I—" Her voice failed suddenly as if she had been stricken ill, and all the rosy color which had risen to her cheeks began to die slowly away. She seemed to be staring over young Zuan's shoulder towards the north. She raised her hand a little way, but it dropped again weakly by her side. "The—ships!" she said, in a strained whisper. "The—ships!" Zuan turned to look.
Round a little wooded point of the island, scarcely more than a mile to the north of where they stood, came, before the wind, three great Venetian galleys, looming high and stately in that narrow strait.
Zuan gave a great shout. "My ships!" he cried. "My galleys!" His voice ran up into an odd falsetto note which was almost a scream. "Trapani has found Il Lupo, and they are going to attack the city by sea!" He sprang for his cloak, which lay near, as if he would wave it to attract the attention of those on the galleys, but the woman caught him by the arm, white-faced and breathless.