In the first dazed days that followed, between the necessary adjustment of matters of state, and the many ceremonies incident upon the King's sudden death, there was scant time to discuss the rapid happenings; even in the court-circle they scarcely knew what was passing—still less how it had come about. It was said that Janus had died of malignant fever, due to the terrible malaria of the coasts where he had been hunting. Yet some hinted that there were natural poisons, as of the marshes, and others—more fatal: but this was with bated breath and kept well without the innermost circle of the court, for no one really knew. It was easy to talk of poison, but far less easy to make assertions implicating those who might be innocent; and, meanwhile, the complications surrounding the throne of Cyprus demanded infinite wisdom and despatch.

Almost before the Queen could lift her head after the shock of her husband's death, the nobles and barons of the realm had penetrated to her private boudoir and sworn her fealty, with a tenderness and reverence that deeply touched her. By the will which the King had left, Caterina Veneta was now Queen of Cyprus, with a Council of Seven appointed to assist her; and every Venetian who held a post in the Government was restless until the young widow of Janus, who had been crowned with all due ceremony in the Cathedral of Nikosia at the time of her marriage, had publicly received the full seal of her authority.

So quickly death had fallen upon the brilliant, pleasure-loving young monarch—so without warning—that it seemed to those of his court like some dread nightmare from which they might presently awake to a new morning, fair and gay as those they had known so little time ago, before the music and the mirth, the jewels and the festal robes that befit a court had given place to the gloom and mourning of these horrible days. As in a dream they had taken part in the sumptuous funeral ceremonies, feeling still that it could not be true—he was too young, too brave, too gay, too gracious, to have come so soon to this! And if to some of those young nobles it was rather the shock of the loss of a boon companion than a serious grief, there were many among them who, for the few bright words that cost him little—a smile—the grasp of his ready hand—permission to come and shine about him—now brought their tribute of adoring tears.

Meanwhile, in the halls of the palace, time moved with slow and halting footsteps: the stricken Queen came rarely among her circle of ladies, and only for short intervals, and the talk, however varied, was but upon one absorbing theme.

It was known that soon after the funeral, the Queen seeking how she might do highest honor in preparing the permanent tomb, had been told of the priceless sarcophagus of oriental jasper—the gift in early ages of the Emperor of the East to Santa Soffia in Nikosia, and she had sent an envoy to the brothers of the convent to ask that it be surrendered for the tomb of Janus, their king, promising whatever compensation they should ask.

"Ah, but it will be magnificent, that tomb under the dome of our own San NicolÒ! It will stand on the precious mosaic pavement from Alexandria, on columns of ivory chased with gold. Dama Margherita hath seen the design which hath been made for her Majesty by the curator of our library of art."

"I also," said the little Contarini, timidly, for she was proud of the favor of the Queen whom she devotedly loved: "It was most beautiful; and the Serenissima la Regina held it long, as if she could not put it away."

But a hand was raised to hush the topic:

"Speak no more thereof; for word hath come but now that the request of her Majesty hath been denied."

There was a chorus of indignant protest:

"It could not be, when she so grieveth! They have no hearts—those frati of Santa Soffia!"

"The Queen will not endure this refusal without reason!"

"There was no reason that should be told," their informer whispered low to one of them. "For love of the Queen, hush the topic."

But an elderly member of the Queen's Council who had been passing through the great Hall and had paused near them, taking no part in the conversation, now came forward, after a moment's hesitation.

"I speak that you may forget it," he said: "for it seemeth to be a pleasing theme of discussion among you—yet should be so no more—a mere extravaganza of fancy that our girl-queen might wisely abandon."

"Signore!" exclaimed the Lady of the Bernardini, rising indignantly, "I maintain the dignity of our Sovereign Lady's Court, while she perforce, from sore affliction, must be absent. All speech must be as in her presence."

The Councillor, resenting the reproof, gave a slight cold bow, studying her curiously, and pondering whether he dared go further.

"The matter is of interest," he pursued, after a moment's pause, "for they gave their reason, these monks of Santa Soffia, and scrupled not—being willing to keep their treasure."

"Signore ConsigliÈre——!" Dama Margherita exclaimed beseechingly.

But if the monks of Santa Soffia had a reason for their conduct, he also had for his, and would not be stayed.

"They gave their reason; that the precious gift should not be desecrated to hold relics that were subject to excommunication," he said with painful distinctness, and would not linger for any explanation.

"It is shameful—such a reason so calmly told by a member of our Queen's Council! He should unsay the words!" one of the maids of honor cried hotly. "There could be no color for it: the Signor Fabrici hath proven that he loveth not the Regina!"

"It was unholy speech," said Dama Margherita crossing herself, "which had not been, save for the ConsigliÈre: it hath no shade of truth; may the Holy Madonna forgive him—and us, who have listened to slander.""Cara Dama Margherita," said the little Contarini consolingly, "if we have listened—it is not with our hearts!"

"Thou art wise, carina: and we who love her will see that the ill word goeth not beyond."

But the speech of the ConsigliÈre had caused such consternation that it could not be immediately dismissed; and one of the elder ladies of the Court was obliged to explain it, for "excommunication" was a word of evil omen.

"The word is a slander," she said. "But it is known that the Holy Father hath had small friendship for King Janus since he declined alliance with the niece of His Holiness, who was not one to please our young King's delicate fancy, though His Holiness strove to have his will—first by promises and then by threats."

They pressed closely about her, with exclamations of interest and astonishment, for this gray-haired noble woman, Madama de ThÉnouris, had not been one of those to retail gossip and they might not question her strange tale; they knew that she had some serious purpose in this unwonted freedom of speech.

"This was known by some of us in Cyprus before the marriage of our King—yet was kept hushed, lest trouble should grow from mention of the displeasure of the Holy Father; but no threat of excommunication hath reached this court. My children, I am trusting you with confidences—for it is a time of trouble for our most gracious Lady and we of her court must know truth from slander that we may stand for her."Each one came and laid her hand, in silent pledge, in that of the gray-haired speaker.

"Later, not long since," she continued, "there came from Rome a tale—maliciously whispered about by Fabrici—not to be believed—that by some act of renunciation of the Christian Faith, Janus won the favor of the Sultan when he sent him hither to regain his throne. The ConsigliÈre Fabrici went with others to the monks of Santa Soffia, and if he told this matter there, so as he hath whispered it in the court of Cyprus, it may well be that the frati reasoned thus."

"Is it true, Madama, that an ambassador is already come from the Sultan to acknowledge Caterina as Queen of Cyprus, and that there shall be some gathering of the court to-night to receive his homage?"

"Aye; such a gathering as one may have in these sad days, my children."

"And Carlotta?" another asked eagerly—"Ecciva—tell them what thou hast spoken of Carlotta."

"That she, in very person, hath sailed from Rhodes to meet the Admiral of Venice on his fleet—to throw herself on his mercy, as heir of Cyprus, to ask his help, to place her on the throne, from the long friendship between the islands." She told it with a little note of triumph, for it was strange news.

"Carlotta! To seek aid from Venice!—It cannot be true!"

"Aye; it is verily true," Madama de ThÉnouris said quietly—"as Ecciva hath told it; for a report hath come from Messer Mocenigo, himself. But that is like Carlotta, who leaveth no imagining of her brain untried. She hath even the courage to urge her near connection with Venice through her brother Janus the King, by his marriage with Caterina Veneta!"

"She hath lost her reason, one would say: there can be no more to fear from Carlotta!"

"No more to hope from Carlotta," some one corrected in an undertone; but the voice sounded unfamiliar in the group and when they looked to see who might have spoken, there was no one to whom they could assign it.

EloisÀ Contarini turned to the young Dama Ecciva de Montferrat with her impulsive question:

"Who was it, Ecciva?"

"Nay, I was about to ask—I also."

Dama Margherita turned and looked at her steadily; the girl gazed back at her with narrowing eyelids, slightly shrugging her shoulders as she finally dropped her eyes.

"But Carlotta?" one of the Venetian maids of honor questioned, impatient for the tale: "she knew not of the will of his Majesty the King?"

"Nay; and she had hope of being first to carry news of his death to the Admiral of Venice;—a most strange hope of any favor from such a quarter!"

"The answer of the Mocenigo was a marvel of courtesy, as it hath been reported, and worthy of a diplomat," Madama de ThÉnouris continued. "Most graciously he assured the Princess that Venice held her friendship gladly and would not fail of anything that she might do to prove her loyalty to this Crown of Cyprus. Yet now, the Daughter of the Republic, Caterina Veneta, being left by the Will of Janus Queen of Cyprus, Venice must first uphold the rights of Caterina, and might show her Eccellenza, the Princess Carlotta, no favor that could prejudice the sovereignty of the Queen."

"And then?"

"And then came further pleading from Carlotta, with a new tissue of reasons. But finally the Mocenigo told her plainly: 'The reasons which avail in kingdoms are arms—not questions of legality.'"

"It is a theme for a comedy! And Carlotta——?"

"Hath sailed again with new wisdom for Rhodes; or, perchance to plan some enterprise that bespeaketh her less mad."

"She is not mad—but brave!" cried the Dama Ecciva boldly.

"It is enough of Carlotta," said the Lady of the Bernardini, rising to break up the talk.

But she beckoned to Dama Margherita to remain, as the others were leaving the hall, and gave her a charge in a low tone.

"See to it that these tales add not to the weariness of our beloved Lady who hath already enough of grief to bear; and the time is full of dangers for her. I count much upon thine influence with the younger maids to keep her from breaking her heart," she added with hesitation, but with a smile which conveyed her confidence in the Lady Margherita, "and to hold them loyal."

She laid a detaining hand upon the younger woman's shoulder as she spoke the last words, uncertain whether to confide in her further, and Margherita, having given her assurance, still waited.

"For this question of excommunication," the Lady of the Bernardini said at last—"lest it should be bruited about by the enemies of the Queen—it hath no color of truth. My Son, the Lord Chamberlain, hath confided to me—(I am trusting thee, Dama Margherita, that thou mayest know it to be so, for the peace of mind of our poor, young Queen, and so mayest lead others to thy belief—yet speak no hint of this my confidence). My Son, the Chamberlain, hath seen in the most revered chronicle of State of this kingdom, the Libro delle Rimembranze, the copy of a letter sent by King Janus to His Holiness, to accredit his Reverence the Archbishop of Nikosia, brother to this same Signor Jean Perez Fabrici the ConsigliÈre, who spoke with us but now—as Ambassador to His Holiness: and the manner of this letter leaveth no room for doubt that he wrote as a son of the Church, in all confidence of favor. He calleth His Holiness 'Santissimo e Beatissimo Padre!' and the signature of this letter (which it is noted that he wrote with his own hand) was 'Devotus vester Filius, Rex Jacobus Cipri.'"