Was it treason?
Was it Carlotta come from Rhodes, with men-at-arms, to surprise them?
There was stealthy talk of a foreign galley in the port.
Some one had noted strange sailors in the throng: one might not be sure of the letters on their caps, because of the darkness: but they were Christians—not Turks—thanks be to the Madonna!
"But the Queen is safe, Sanctissima Vergine! The Queen is in the Castle."
"There is His Excellency, Maestro Gentle, physician to Her Majesty, he passeth but now, the glimmer of his mail beneath his cloak! Holy saints! A gray-haired man, rushing out into the night—thinking first of the Queen and of her safety! The Madonna will be good to her!"
The old court physician gave the password at the castle-gate and entered.
The Signor Andrea Cornaro rode forth from his palace, fully armed, and with him Marco Bembo, cousin to the Queen—surely, they would know! The citizens called to them urgently for some explanation of the tumult, but they passed swiftly by to the palace of the Bailò, the Venetian Resident.
But the Bailò gave them no comfort.
"I know naught of the trouble," he answered them, "save that warning hath been sent me by His Excellency, the Count of Tripoli, that it were wiser that I keep within."