"There is news!" some one cried startled. "They have come to pause at the palace of the Vice-Roy. The leader is already within—he hath not waited for his gentlemen to announce him!"
"Aye, there is news:—may the Saints have mercy!" one of the burghers answered to the quick questions of the visitors from the hamlets. "And it is strange news, I wot—Heaven help us! For that was our own Seigneur, Pietro Davilla, new created a Knight of St. John, and gone but this morning, with all the gentlemen and squires of his household, to pay his homage—a leal Knight to Her Majesty. It must be some dread matter that hath chanced to turn him from such duty and purpose ere he could reach Famagosta."
"That was the Seigneur Davilla, on the black champing steed? one of the Councillors of the Realm?" a stranger asked.
"Aye, man; thou art in luck to see our Seigneur with all his bravery of men and horse! That was he who entered the palace of the Vice-Roy."
"And that other—all armed, with vizor down—the steed that bore him foaming with haste, as if his hoof had scarce touched ground?"
"I know not: but he weareth the colors of the Royal House. He hath the look of some spent herald. See, they summon him from within! It must be that he bringeth tidings from Famagosta. Pray Heaven it is well with Her Majesty!"
"And with our Prince!"
"Viva la Regina!"
"Heaven save the Queen and the Infant King!"
A tumult of vivas broke from the excited throng who were on edge with unquiet expectation.