Hagios Johannes the elder had been known through the long years of his canonization as Lampadisti, the illumined: and as the prior listened, he prayed with fervor that the wisdom of his sainted predecessor might descend upon his soul.
"My Father," she resumed with a great effort, "I knew not of this history of the last of our Kings of Cyprus, until my marriage had been made.... I knew not of any right of Carlotta, being own daughter to the King, the father of my husband"—again that tremulous pause of unuttered music—"to contest the crown with him, until I learned it in Cyprus, these few weeks past."
Her head drooped lower, but she went on resolutely. "I knew not, until I came to Cyprus—for they who knew and should have told me, held the knowledge from me—that any might question the right of Janus—my husband—to this kingdom of Cyprus—he being only son to the King. For I knew not that his mother was not the Queen, until I came hither."
She paused again to gather strength, lifting her guileless great eyes to his, in agonized appeal, while he watched her dumbly.
"And now, my Father," she said, throwing back her head with sudden vigor, and with the dignity of a great resolve, "this is my question, which hath come to me in the watches of the night and will not be denied, and for which I have summoned thee. I—being wife to Janus, who hath been crowned King of this people—and I, with him, crowned Queen; and by his will left Queen of Cyprus—with Council, appointed by him, to help me rule; shall I, a Christian woman—a Venetian and not a Cyprian—his widow—hold this kingdom against Carlotta, who is daughter to the King, the father of my husband—and to the rightful Queen, Elenà—his father's lawful wife?"
He was dumbfounded and could not answer her at once; but while he sought for words he bowed his head in mute reverence.
"My daughter," he said at length, "hath this question been put to thee by any men of Cyprus?"
"Nay, Father; but it hath come to me in these sad nights, because I fain would do the right—that which is well for my people: and life is very difficult."
"My people," again, uttered with the accent of a mother who folds her child to her heart—it was a revelation; but he must probe more deeply before he could answer her.
"And this palace—and all the palaces of this estate?" he asked slowly, as if he could not comprehend her. "Thou wouldst renounce this splendor when none hath asked it of thee?"