"What matters it?" his comrade answered him nonchalantly, "for canst thou tell me the color of a Cypriote now? and his native tongue may be liker that of Spain or Venice than of France or Greece. My Lord of Piscopia hath the color of Venice."
"But of the very household of our Queen:—speak soft! Our Queen?—Perchance this night may be her undoing—how runs King Giacomo's will? Yea, for the matter of the fiefs, she hath been royal with her gifts—a matter not so lordly when confiscation cometh thus easily."
"But she hath a royal way with her, as of one born to the throne, and for that matter it were not strange for one of the house of Cornelii—they held their heads proudly enough in Venice, I am told; and her mother was of the blood of a Comnenus—more royal than a Lusignan, if not so well tempered."
"Aye; she is well enough."
"And she hath a grace that hath verily won the people; never was there such a crowd in the time of any other Queen. See how they throng before her gates to-night—poor simple souls—conquered by a smile that costeth naught."
"Nay; it is not strange; for the people entered little into the thought of Queen Carlotta, or Queen Elenà. There is no harm in her; she is a good child, and beautiful enough to be a saint; with too little understanding of the ways of our court: too great a saint for Janus—by every blessed saint of Cyprus! But I had rather she had more earthliness and wile than be the pawn of Venice. A Cyprian for the Cypriotes! Our Janus were better;—a Lusignan—not too much a saint—not a child nor a woman neither—but masterful: less the pawn of Venice."
"As well of Venice with her fleets and commerce, as of Naples—if it be not a Cyprian. How sayest thou? And it was King Janus himself who gave Pelendria—that most royal and bountiful fief of a prince of Lusignan—into the hands of that parvenu of Naples, Rizzo! The King verily guessed not his quality when he named him to such estate! He would outrule monarchs."
"Pace!"
Close to them, in the crowd, they heard the sound of a soldier's lance rasping the pavement as he stood at rest. One not far off seemed to answer his signal.
The storm was growing fiercer; the sullen mutterings of the wind broke into a shriek, with a terrible downpour of rain; but the rushing crowd was stayed by a cry of joy that rose above the tumult—a cry of love from the heart of the people—