And then, by bidding of their Chief, they flung the palpitating, tortured, lifeless remnant of what—one little hour before—had been a loyal, noble, winsome man, dreaming of duty and high achievement—into the horror of the moat by the pitiful wreck of Andrea Cornaro—the two murdered for the double crimes of relationship and loyalty to the trembling girl-Queen.
XX
His Grace, the Archbishop, was among the first to respond to the summons of the alarum, having his mind filled with weighty matters of life and death which had rendered him sleepless—some of which he had discussed confidentially with General Saplana, who had been one of those most distinguished and trusted by the late King.
With Saplana the Commander of Famagosta, and with his own brother Gioan Peres Fabrici, as with some other members of the Queen's Council, many details of the conspiracy which was now being brought to so satisfactory a conclusion, had been arranged. They knew that the Neapolitan galley would be in port that night to support the uprising and the proclamation that should be made, if fortune favored. They knew of Ferdinand's untiring machinations to win a hold upon this much contested Crown of Cyprus; and none knew better how from the moment that the coveted alliance between Janus and a Princess of Naples had been frustrated by the Venetian marriage, Ferdinand had not ceased from intrigues to that end, secretly and zealously supported by certain men who were holding important positions of trust in the Government of Cyprus.
Andrea Cornaro, by whose means his niece had come to her throne, would be the most formidable individual opponent in any scheme for the benefit of Naples, and it became important to remove him; yet it could not be done without some apparent excuse—because of his relationship to the Queen, and because unless success were complete, they might have cause to dread the strong galleys of Venice. So the wily Primate—keeping perhaps his own counsel as to the fabricator of the plot—invented a scheme which he asserted that the unconscious Cornaro intended to carry into effect that night by which, when the great bell of the Castle should sound the call to arms, the Venetians in Famagosta, under Visconti and his band of Italian soldiers were to rise up and murder every Cyprian member of the Council of the Realm. "Therefore let every man be armed and ready for the defense of Cyprus when the call shall be heard. And spare not the traitors!" he urged upon the Commander of the fortress.
"And if Visconti's men could be under restraint this night," the Archbishop suggested casually, "and if that Chamberlain of the Queen's could be under trusty guard within the palace—not to make suggestions in a matter more to your understanding than mine, your Excellency—but I know the man—a troublesome one and proud and silent—my brother liketh him little. After the Cornaro he is most to fear."
Thus Aluisi Bernardini found himself with his mother, close prisoner in the Royal palace, on the night when his Queen most sorely needed the help he would have perilled his life to give.