"There is no more," she answered provokingly—"save that which we all know; the signal-fire, and the galley floating below by the coast, half hidden by the great rock—for that also I saw from my turret—thanks be to the Madonna for lifting the mortal dulness! And I left sleep for better things that night; for it was well-nigh the hour of matins when the galley set sail for Venice."
"But the audience with the Queen?"
"There was no audience. For I bethought me of somewhat I had forgotten in the ante-chamber—not to miss the knowledge of what was passing—and I sped me thither. And then there was naught left to do but to hide me, somewhat weak of heart, in the tapestry of the ante-chamber; for the door was wide into the Queen's salon, and there was His Excellency the Bernardini, flashing scorn in his speech, so that one thought the air would break into flames—he, the while, standing still enough for an image of a wrathful Kinyras; the Queen's guard was around him, all in full armor—a doughty corps of men to meet those three!—Alicia, white as a spirit, weeping against Tristan; and Violante, shaken out of her holy calm, kneeling to pray His Excellency's grace!"
"And then——?"
"And then they left the Queen's chamber and I dared not creep forth until all was quiet again. But I heard His Excellency's speech as he stood bowing in the doorway when the guards led Tristan forth—a model of courtesy one would have said—for I could see him through a parting in the arras though I risked my life in standing there—'Her Majesty' said the Bernardini—very fair of speech—'doth surely owe such escort to the Illustrissimo, the Seigneur de Giblet, for the attention he would fain have offered in his own person to King Janus, in his Episcopal Palace before he wore the crown of the realm.' And the Seigneur de Giblet, not to be outdone—being Cyprian—answers him—very proud and cold—'Is your Excellency ever so faithful to reward a service contemplated, but not achieved?' For he had meant to smother the King in his sleep that night, if Janus had not escaped to Egypt."
They were all silent until Ecciva, less overcome by these tragic memories, resumed her story.
"And after that, Tristan came no more; nor his sister, the fair Alicia; nor Rizzo, the dark-browed. Nor was it many days ere Violante, the most holy sister, had left the court.—Ask the Provveditori!"
"But what message did they bring Her Majesty?"
"Am I a noble of Venice that I should know this mystery which toucheth our realm of Cyprus?" she answered scornfully. "Ask the Bernardini, or the Dama Margherita—to whom he confesseth all his soul!"
"But Rizzo?" Eloisà asked, bewildered.