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diff --git a/43938-8.txt b/43938-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2879d9a..0000000 --- a/43938-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16867 +0,0 @@ - THE SORCERESS OF ROME - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: The Sorceress of Rome -Author: Nathan Gallizier -Release Date: October 11, 2013 [EBook #43938] -Language: English -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SORCERESS OF ROME *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - - -[Illustration: Was Stephania not overacting her part? (See page 311)] - - - - - [Illustration: Title page] - - - - THE - SORCERESS - OF ROME - - - BY - - _NATHAN GALLIZIER_ - - AUTHOR OF - CASTEL DEL MONTE - - - - PICTURES BY - THE KINNEYS - - - - DECORATIONS BY P. VERBURG - - - - THE PAGE COMPANY - BOSTON - PUBLISHERS - - - - - Copyright, 1907 - BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - - Entered at Stationers' Hall, London - - - All rights reserved - - - First Impression, October, 1907 - Second Impression, February, 1920 - - - - THE COLONIAL PRESS - C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U.S.A. - - - - - Somewhere, in desolate wind-swept space, - In Twilight-land, in no-man's land, - Two hurrying shapes met face to face - And bade each other stand. - - "And who are you?" cried one agape - Shuddering in the gloaming light. - "I know not," said the second shape, - "I only died last night." - - THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. - - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - - -[Illustration: music fragment] - - - - - *INTRODUCTION* - - -The darkness of the tenth century is dissipated by no contemporary -historian. Monkish chronicles alone shed a faint light over the -discordant chaos of the Italian world. Rome was no longer the capital -of the earth. The seat of empire had shifted from the banks of the -Tiber to the shores of the Bosporus, and the seven hilled city of -Constantine had assumed the imperial purple of the ancient capital of -the Cæsars. - -Centuries of struggles with the hosts of foreign invaders had in time -lowered the state of civilization to such a degree, that in point of -literature and art the Rome of the tenth century could not boast of a -single name worthy of being transmitted to posterity. Even the memory -of the men whose achievements in the days of its glory constituted the -pride and boast of the Roman world, had become almost extinct. A great -lethargy benumbed the Italian mind, engendered by the reaction from the -incessant feuds and broils among the petty tyrants and oppressors of the -country. - -Together with the rest of the disintegrated states of Italy, united by -no common bond, Rome had become the prey of the most terrible disorders. -Papacy had fallen into all manner of corruption. Its former halo and -prestige had departed. The chair of St. Peter was sought for by bribery -and controlling influence, often by violence and assassination, and the -city was oppressed by factions and awed into submission by foreign -adventurers in command of bands collected from the outcasts of all -nations. - -From the day of Christmas in the year 800, when at the hands of Pope Leo -III, Charlemagne received the imperial crown of the West, the German -Kings dated their right as rulers of Rome and the Roman world, a right, -feebly and ineffectually contested by the emperors of the East. It was -the dream of every German King immediately upon his election to cross -the Alps to receive at the hand of the Pope the crown of a country which -resisted and resented and never formally recognized a superiority forced -upon it. Thus from time to time we find Rome alternately in revolt -against German rule, punished, subdued and again imploring the aid of -the detested foreigners against the misrule of her own princes, to -settle the disputes arising from pontifical elections, or as protection -against foreign invaders and the violence of contending factions. - -Plunged in an abyss from which she saw no other means of extricating -herself, harassed by the Hungarians in Lombardy and the Saracens in -Calabria, Italy had, in the year 961, called on Otto the Great, King of -Germany, for assistance. Little opposition was made to this powerful -monarch. Berengar II, the reigning sovereign of Italy, submitted and -agreed to hold his kingdom of him as a fief. Otto thereupon returned to -Germany, but new disturbances arising, he crossed the Alps a second -time, deposed Berengar and received at the hands of Pope John XII the -imperial dignity nearly suspended for forty years. - -Every ancient prejudice, every recollection whether of Augustus or -Charlemagne, had led the Romans to annex the notion of sovereignty to -the name of Roman emperor, nor were Otto and his two immediate -descendants inclined to waive these supposed prerogatives, which they -were well able to enforce. But no sooner had they returned to Germany -than the old habit of revolt seized the Italians, and especially the -Romans who were ill disposed to resume habits of obedience even to the -sovereign whose aid they had implored and received. The flames of -rebellion swept again over the seven hilled city during the rule of Otto -II, whose aid the Romans had invoked against the invading hordes of -Islam, and the same republican spirit broke out during the brief, but -fantastic reign of his son, the third Otto, directing itself in the -latter instance chiefly against the person of the youthful pontiff, -Bruno of Carinthia, the friend of the King, whose purity stands out in -marked contrast against the depravity of the monsters, who, to the -number of ten, had during the past five decades defiled the throne of -the Apostle. Gregory V is said to have been assassinated during Otto's -absence from Rome. - -The third rebellion of Johannes Crescentius, Senator of Rome, enacted -after the death of the pontiff and the election of Sylvester II, forms -but the prelude to the great drama whose final curtain was to fall upon -the doom of the third Otto, of whose love for Stephania, the beautiful -wife of Crescentius, innumerable legends are told in the old monkish -chronicles and whose tragic death caused a lament to go throughout the -world of the Millennium. - - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - - - *CONTENTS* - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - *BOOK THE FIRST* - -Chapter - - I. The Grand Chamberlain - II. The Pageant in the Navona - III. On the Palatine - IV. The Wanton Court of Theodora - V. The Wager - VI. John of the Catacombs - VII. The Vision of San Pancrazio - VIII. Castel San Angelo - IX. The Sermon in the Ghetto - X. The Sicilian Dancer - XI. Nilus of Gaëta - XII. Red Falernian - XIII. Dead Leaves - XIV. The Phantom at the Shrine - XV. The Death Watch - XVI. The Conclave - - - *BOOK THE SECOND* - - I. The Meeting - II. The Queen of Night - III. The Elixir of Love - IV. The Secret of the Tomb - V. The Grottos of Egeria - VI. Beyond the Grave - VII. Ara Coeli - VIII. The Gothic Tower - IX. The Snare of the Fowler - X. The Temple of Neptune - XI. The Incantation - XII. The Hermitage of Nilus - XIII. The Lion of Basalt - XIV. The Last Tryst - XV. The Storm of Castel San Angelo - XVI. The Forfeit - XVII. Nemesis - XVIII. Vale Roma - - - *BOOK THE THIRD* - - I. Paterno - II. Memories - III. The Consummation - IV. The Angel of the Agony - V. Return - - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - - *LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS* - - -"Was Stephania not overacting her part?" (_See page_ 311) _Frontispiece_ - -"Looking up from the task he was engaged in" - -"Persisting in his endeavour to remove her mask" - -"The haunting memories of Stephania" - - -[Illustration: decoration] - - - - - *Book the First* - - - *The Truce - of God* - - - - - "As I came through the desert, thus it was - As I came through the desert: All was black, - In heaven no single star, on earth no track; - A brooding hush without a stir or note, - The air so thick it clotted in my throat. - And thus for hours; then some enormous things - Swooped past with savage cries and clanking wings; - But I strode on austere; - No hope could have no fear." - --_James Thomson_. - - - - *BOOK THE FIRST* - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *THE GRAND CHAMBERLAIN* - - -It was the hour of high noon on a sultry October day in Rome, in the -year of our Lord nine hundred and ninety-nine. In the porphyry cabinet -of the imperial palace on Mount Aventine, before a table covered with -parchments and scrolls, there sat an individual, who even in the most -brilliant assembly would have attracted general and immediate attention. - -Judging from his appearance he had scarcely passed his thirtieth year. -His bearing combined a marked grace and intellectuality. The finely -shaped head poised on splendid shoulders denoted power and intellect. -The pale, olive tints of the face seemed to intensify the brilliancy of -the black eyes whose penetrating gaze revealed a singular compound of -mockery and cynicism. The mouth, small but firm, was not devoid of -disdain, and even cruelty, and the smile of the thin, compressed lips -held something more subtle than any passion that can be named. His -ears, hands and feet were of that delicacy and smallness, which is held -to denote aristocracy of birth. And there was in his manner that -indescribable combination of unobtrusive dignity and affected elegance -which, in all ages and countries, through all changes of manners and -customs has rendered the demeanour of its few chosen possessors the -instantaneous interpreter of their social rank. He was dressed in a -crimson tunic, fastened with a clasp of mother-of-pearl. Tight fitting -hose of black and crimson terminating in saffron-coloured shoes covered -his legs, and a red cap, pointed at the top and rolled up behind brought -the head into harmony with the rest of the costume. - -Now and then, Benilo, the Grand Chamberlain, cast quick glances at the -sand-clock on the table before him; at last with a gesture of mingled -impatience and annoyance, he pushed back the scrolls he had been -examining, glanced again at the clock, arose and strode to a window -looking out upon the western slopes of Mount Aventine. - -The sun was slowly setting, and the light green silken curtains hung -motionless, in the almost level rays. The stone houses of the city and -her colossal ruins glowed with a brightness almost overpowering. Not a -ripple stirred the surface of the Tiber, whose golden coils circled the -base of Aventine; not a breath of wind filled the sails of the deserted -fishing boats, which swung lazily at their moorings. Over the distant -Campagna hung a hot, quivering mist and in the vineyards climbing the -Janiculan Mount not a leaf stirred upon its slender stem. The ramparts -of Castel San Angelo dreamed deserted in the glow of the westering sun, -and beyond the horizon of ancient Portus, torpid, waveless and suffused -in a flood of dazzling brightness, the Tyrrhene Sea stretched toward the -cloudless horizon which closed the sun-bright view. - -How long the Grand Chamberlain had thus abstractedly gazed out upon the -seven-hilled city gradually sinking into the repose of evening, he was -scarcely conscious, when a slight knock, which seemed to come from the -wall, caused him to start. After a brief interval it was repeated. -Benilo drew the curtains closer, gave another glance at the sand-clock, -nodded to himself, then, approaching the opposite wall, decorated with -scenes from the Metamorphoses of Ovid, touched a hidden spring. -Noiselessly a panel receded and, from the chasm thus revealed, something -like a shadow passed swiftly into the cabinet, the panel closing -noiselessly behind it. - -Benilo had reseated himself at the table, and beckoned his strange -visitor to a chair, which he declined. He was tall and lean and wore -the gray habit of the Penitent friars, the cowl drawn over his face, -concealing his features. - -For some minutes neither the Grand Chamberlain nor his visitor spoke. -At last Benilo broke the silence. - -"You are the bearer of a message?" - -The monk nodded. - -"Tell me the worst! Bad news is like decaying fruit. It becomes the -more rotten with the keeping." - -"The worst may be told quickly enough," said the monk with a voice which -caused the Chamberlain to start. - -"The Saxon dynasty is resting on two eyes." - -Benilo nodded. - -"On two eyes," he repeated, straining his gaze towards the monk. - -"They will soon be closed for ever!" - -The Chamberlain started from his seat. - -"I do not understand." - -"The fever does not temporize." - -"'Tis the nature of the raven to croak. Let thine improvising damn -thyself." - -"Fate and the grave are relentless. I am the messenger of both!" - -"King Otto dying?" the Chamberlain muttered to himself. "Away from -Rome,--the Fata Morgana of his dreams?" - -A gesture of the monk interrupted the speaker. - -"When a knight makes a vow to a lady, he does not thereby become her -betrothed. She oftener marries another." - -"Yet the Saint may work a miracle. The Holy Father is praying so -earnestly for his deliverance, that Saint Michael may fear for his -prestige, did he not succour him." - -"Your heart is tenderer than I had guessed." - -"And joined by the prayers of such as you--" - -The monk raised his hand. - -"Nay,--I am not holy enough." - -"I thought they were all saints at San Zeno." - -"That is for Rome to say." - -There was a brief pause during which Benilo gazed into space. The monk -heard him mutter the word "Dying--dying" as if therein lay condensed the -essence of all his life. - -Reseating himself the Chamberlain seemed at last to remember the -presence of his visitor, who scrutinized him stealthily from under his -cowl. Pointing to a parchment on the table before him, he said -dismissing the subject: - -"You are reported as one in whom I may place full trust, in whom I may -implicitly confide. I hate the black cassocks. A monk and misfortune -are seldom apart. You see I dissemble not." - -The Grand Chamberlain's visitor nodded. - -"A viper's friend must needs be a viper,--like to like!" - -"'Tis not the devil's policy to show the cloven hoof." - -"Yet an eavesdropper is best equipped for a prophet." - -Again the Chamberlain started. - -Straining his gaze towards the monk, who stood immobile as a phantom, he -said: - -"It is reported that you are about to render a great service to Rome." - -The monk nodded. - -"A country without a king is bad! But to carry the matter just a trifle -farther,--to dream of Christendom without a Pope--" - -"You would not dare!" exclaimed Benilo with real or feigned surprise, -"you would not dare! In the presence of the whole Christian world? -Rome can do nothing without the Sun,--nothing without the Pope. Take -away his benediction: 'Urbi et Orbi'--What would prosper?" - -"You are a poet and a Roman. I am a monk and a native of Aragon." - -Benilo shrugged his shoulders. - -"'Tis but the old question: Cui bono? How many pontiffs have, within -the memory of man, defiled the chair of Saint Peter? Who are your -reformers? Libertines and gossipers in the taverns of the Suburra, -among fried fish, painted women, and garlic; in prosperity proud, in -adversity cowards, but infamous ever! The fifth Gregory alone soars so -high above the earth, he sees not the vermin, the mire beneath." - -"Perhaps they wished to let the mire accumulate, to furnish work for the -iron broom of your tramontane saint! Are not his shoulders bent in holy -contemplation, like the moon in the first quarter? Is he not shocked at -the sight of misery and of dishevelled despair? His sensitive nerves -would see them with the hair dressed and bound like that of an antique -statue." - -"Ay! And the feudal barons stick in his palate like the hook in the -mouth of the dog fish." - -"We want no more martyrs! The light of the glow-worm continues to shine -after the death of the insect." - -"It was a conclave, that disposed of the usurper, John XVI." - -"Ay! And the bravo, when he discovered his error, paid for three -candles for the pontiff's soul, and the monk who officiated at the last -rites praised the departed so loudly, that the corpse sat up and -laughed. And now he is immortal and possesses the secret of eternal -life," the monk concluded with downcast eyes. - -"Yet there is one I fear,--one who seems to enlist a special providence -in his cause." - -"Gerbert of Cluny--" - -"The monk of Aurillac!" - -"They say that he is leagued with the devil; that in his closet he has a -brazen head, which answers all questions, and through which the devil -has assured him that he shall not die, till he has said mass in -Jerusalem." - -"He is competent to convert a brimstone lake." - -"Yet a true soldier seeks for weak spots in the armour." - -"I am answered. But the time and the place?" - -"In the Ghetto at sunset." - -"And the reward?" - -"The halo of a Saint." - -"What of your conscience's peace?" - -"May not a man and his conscience, like ill-mated consorts, be on -something less than speaking terms?" - -"They kill by the decalogue at San Zeno." - -"Exitus acta probat!" returned the monk solemnly. - -Benilo raised his hand warningly. - -"Let him disappear quietly--ecclesiastically." - -"What is gained by caution when one stands on an earthquake?" asked the -monk. - -"You deem not, then, that Heaven might take so strong an interest in -Gerbert's affairs, as to send some of the blessed to his deliverance?" -queried Benilo suavely. - -The Chamberlain's visitor betrayed impatience. - -"If Heaven troubled itself much about what is done on earth, the world's -business would be well-nigh bankrupt." - -"Ay! And even the just may fall by his own justice!" nodded Benilo. -"He should have made his indulgences dearer, and harder to win. Why -takes he not the lesson from women?" - -There was a brief pause, during which Benilo had arisen and paced up and -down the chamber. His visitor remained immobile, though his eyes -followed Benilo's every step. - -At last the Grand Chamberlain paused directly before him. - -"How fares his Eminence of Orvieto? He was ailing at last reports," he -asked. - -"He died on his way to Rome, of a disease, sudden as the plague. He -loved honey,--they will accuse the bees." - -With a nod of satisfaction Benilo continued his perambulation. - -"Tell me better news of our dearly beloved friend, Monsignor Agnello, -Archbishop of Cosenza, Clerk of the Chamber and Vice-Legate of Viterbo." - -"He was found dead in his bed, after eating a most hearty supper," the -monk spoke dolefully. - -"Alas, poor man! That was sudden. But such holy men are always ready -for their call," replied the Grand Chamberlain with downcast eyes. "And -what part has his Holiness assigned me in his relics?" - -"Some flax of his hair shirt, to coil a rope therewith," replied the -monk. - -"A princely benefaction! But your commission for the Father of -Christendom? For indeed I fear the vast treasures he has heaped up, -will hang like a leaden mountain on his ascending soul." - -"The Holy Father himself has summoned me to Rome!" The words seemed to -sound from nowhere. Yet they hovered on the air like the knell of Fate. - -The Grand-Chamberlain paused, stared and shuddered. - -"And who knows," continued the monk after a pause, "but that by some -divine dispensation all the refractory cardinals of the Sacred College -may contract some incurable disease? Have you secured the names,--just -to ascertain if their households are well ordered?" - -"The name of every cardinal and bishop in Rome at the present hour." - -"Give it to me." - -A hand white as that of a corpse came from the monk's ample parting -sleeves in which Benilo placed a scroll, which he had taken from the -table. - -The monk unrolled it. After glancing down the list of names, he said: - -"The Cardinal of Gregorio." - -The Chamberlain betokened his understanding with a nod. - -"He claims kinship with the stars." - -"The Cardinal of San Pietro in Montorio." - -An evil smile curved Benilo's thin, white lips. - -"An impostor, proved, confessed,--his conscience pawned to a saint--" - -"The Cardinal of San Onofrio,--he, who held you over the baptismal -fount," said the monk with a quick glance at the Chamberlain. - -"I had no hand in my own christening." - -The monk nodded. - -"The Cardinal of San Silvestro." - -"He vowed he would join the barefoot friars, if he recovered." - -"He would have made a stalwart mendicant. All the women would have -confessed to him." - -"It is impossible to escape immortality," sighed Benilo. - -"Obedience is holiness," replied the other. - -After carefully reviewing the not inconsiderable list of names, and -placing a cross against some of them, the monk returned the scroll to -its owner. - -When the Chamberlain spoke again, his voice trembled strangely. - -"What of the Golden Chalice?" - -"Offerimus tibi Domine, Calicem Salutaris," the monk quoted from the -mass. "What differentiates Sacramental Wine from Malvasia?" - -The Chamberlain pondered. - -"Perhaps a degree or two of headiness?" - -"Is it not rather a degree or two of holiness?" replied the monk with a -strange gleam in his eyes. - -"The Season claims its mercies." - -"Can one quench a furnace with a parable?" - -"The Holy Host may work a miracle." - -"It is the concern of angels to see their sentences enforced." - -"Sic itur ad astra," said the Chamberlain devoutly. - -And like an echo it came from his visitor's lips: - -"Sic itur ad astra!" - -"We understand each other," Benilo spoke after a pause, arising from his -chair. "But remember," he added with a look, which seemed to pierce his -interlocutor through and through. "What thou dost, monk, thou dost. If -thy hand fail, I know thee not!" - -Stepping to the panel, Benilo was about to touch the secret spring, when -a thought arrested his hand. - -"Thou hast seen my face," he turned to the monk. "It is but meet, that -I see thine." - -Without a word the monk removed his cowl. As he did so, Benilo stood -rooted to the spot, as if a ghost had arisen from the stone floor before -him. - -"Madman!" he gasped. "You dare to show yourself in Rome?" - -A strange light gleamed in the monk's eyes. - -"I came in quest of the End of Time. Do you doubt the sincerity of my -intent?" - -For a moment they faced each other in silence, then the monk turned and -vanished without another word through the panel which closed noiselessly -behind him. - -When Benilo found himself once more alone, all the elasticity of temper -and mind seemed to have deserted him. All the colour had faded from his -face, all the light seemed to have gone from his eyes. Thus he remained -for a space, neither heeding his surroundings, nor the flight of time. -At last he arose and, traversing the cabinet, made for a remote door and -passed out. Whatever were his thoughts, no outward sign betrayed them, -as with the suave and impenetrable mien of the born courtier, he entered -the vast hall of audience. - -A motley crowd of courtiers, officers, monks and foreign envoys, whose -variegated costumes formed a dazzling kaleidoscope almost bewildering to -the unaccustomed eye, met the Chamberlain's gaze. - -The greater number of those present were recruited from the ranks of the -Roman nobility, men whose spare, elegant figures formed a striking -contrast to the huge giants of the German imperial guard. The mongrel -and craven descendants of African, Syrian and Slavonian slaves, a -strange jumble of races and types, with all the visible signs of their -heterogeneous origin, stared with insolent wonder at the fair-haired -sons of the North, who took their orders from no man, save the grandson -of the mighty emperor Otto the Great, the vanquisher of the Magyars on -the tremendous field of the Lech. - -A strange medley of palace officials, appointed after the ruling code of -the Eastern Empire, chamberlains, pages and grooms, masters of the outer -court, masters of the inner court, masters of the robe, masters of the -horse, seneschals, high stewards and eunuchs, in their sweeping citron -and orange coloured gowns, lent a glowing enchantment to the scene. - -No glaring lights marred the pervading softness of the atmosphere; all -objects animate and inanimate seemed in complete harmony with each -other. The entrance to the great hall of audience was flanked with two -great pillars of Numidian marble, toned by time to hues of richest -orange. The hall itself was surrounded by a colonnade of the Corinthian -order, whereon had been lavished exquisite carvings; in niches behind -the columns stood statues in basalt, thrice the size of life. Enormous -pillars of rose-coloured marble supported the roof, decorated in the -fantastic Byzantine style; the floor, composed of serpentine, porphyry -and Numidian marble, was a superb work of art. In the centre a fountain -threw up sprays of perfumed water, its basin bordered with glistening -shells from India and the Archipelago. - -Passing slowly down the hall, Benilo paused here and there to exchange -greetings with some individual among the numerous groups, who were -conversing in hushed whispers on the event at this hour closest to their -heart, the illness of King Otto III, in the cloisters of Monte Gargano -in Apulia whither he had journeyed on a pilgrimage to the grottoes of -the Archangel. Conflicting rumours were rife as to the course of the -illness, and each seemed fearful of venturing a surmise, which might -precipitate a crisis, fraught with direst consequences. The times and -the Roman temper were uncertain. - -The countenance of Archbishop Heribert of Cologne, Chancellor of the -Empire, reflected grave apprehension, which was amply shared by his -companions, Archbishop Willigis of Mentz, and Luitprand, Archbishop of -Cremona, the Patriarch of Christendom, whose snow-white hair formed a -striking contrast to the dark and bronzed countenance of Count Benedict -of Palestrina, and Pandulph of Capua, Lord of Spoleto and Beneventum, -the lay-members of the group. The conversation, though held in -whispered tones and inaudible to those moving on the edge of their -circle, was yet animated and it would seem, that hope had but a small -share in the surmises they ventured on what the days to come held in -store for the Saxon dynasty. - -Without paying further heed to the motley throng, which surged up and -down the hall of audience, seemingly indifferent to the whispered -comments upon himself as a mere man of pleasure, Benilo seated himself -upon a couch at the western extremity of the hall. With the elaborate -deliberation of a man who disdains being hurried by anything whatsoever, -he took a piece of vellum from his doublet, on which from time to time -he traced a few words. Assuming a reclining position, he appeared -absorbed in deep study, seemingly unheedful of his surroundings. Yet a -close observer might have remarked that the Chamberlain's gaze roamed -unsteadily from one group to another, until some chance passer-by -deflected its course and Benilo applied himself to his ostentatious task -more studiously than before. - -"What does the courtier in the parrot-frock?" Duke Bernhardt of Saxony, -stout, burly, asthmatic, addressed a tall, sallow individual, in a -rose-coloured frock, who strutted by his side with the air of an -inflated peacock. - -John of Calabria gave a sigh. - -"Alas! He writes poetry and swears by the ancient Gods!" - -"By the ancient Gods!" puffed the duke, "a commendable habit! As for -his poetry,--the bees sometimes deposit their honey in the mouth of a -dead beast." - -"And yet the Philistines solved not Samson's riddle," sighed the Greek. - -"Ay! And the devil never ceases to cut wood for him, who wishes to keep -the kettle boiling," spouted the duke with an irate look at his -companion as they lost themselves among the throngs. Suddenly a marked -hush, the abrupt cessation of the former all-pervading hum, caused -Benilo to glance toward the entrance of the audience hall. As he did -so, the vellum rolled from his nerveless hand upon the marble floor. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *THE PAGEANT IN THE NAVONA* - - -The man, who had entered the hall of audience with the air of one to -whom every nook and corner was familiar, looked what he was, a war-worn -veteran, bronzed and hardened by the effect of many campaigns in many -climes. Yet his robust frame and his physique betrayed but slight -evidence of those fatigues and hardships which had been the habits of -his life. Only a tinge of gray through the close-cropped hair, and now -and then the listless look of one who has grown weary with campaigning, -gave token that the prime had passed. In repose his look was stern and -pensive, softening at moments into an expression of intense melancholy -and gloom. A long black mantle, revealing traces of prolonged and hasty -travel, covered his tall and stately form. Beneath it gleamed a dark -suit of armour with the dull sheen of dust covered steel. His helmet, -fashioned after a dragon with scales, wings, and fins of wrought brass, -resembled the headgear of the fabled Vikings. - -This personage was Margrave Eckhardt of Meissen, commander-in-chief of -the German hosts, Great Warden of the Eastern March, and chief adviser -of the imperial youth, who had been entrusted to his care by his mother, -the glorious Empress Theophano, the deeply lamented consort of Emperor -Otto II of Saracenic renown. - -The door through which he entered revealed a company of the imperial -body-guard, stationed without, in gilt-mail tunics, armlets and greaves, -their weapon the formidable mace, surmounted by a sickle-shaped halberd. - -The deep hush, which had fallen upon the assembly on Eckhardt's entrance -into the hall, had its significance. If the Romans were inclined to -look with favour upon the youthful son of the Greek princess, in whose -veins flowed the warm blood of the South, and whose sunny disposition -boded little danger to their jealously guarded liberties, their -sentiments toward the Saxon general had little in common with their -evanescent enthusiasm over the "Wonder-child of the World." But if the -Romans loved Eckhardt little, Eckhardt loved the Romans less, and he -made no effort to conceal his contempt for the mongrel rabble, who, -unable to govern themselves, chafed at every form of government and -restraint. - -Perhaps in the countenance of none of those assembled in the hall of -audience was there reflected such intensity of surprise on beholding the -great leader as there was in the face of the Grand Chamberlain, the -olive tints of whose cheeks had faded to ashen hues. His trembling -hands gripped the carved back of the nearest chair, while from behind -the powerful frame of the Patricius Ziazo he gazed upon the countenance -of the Margrave. - -The latter had approached the group of ecclesiastics, who formed the -nucleus round the venerable Archbishop of Cremona. - -"What tidings from the king?" queried the patriarch of Christendom. - -Eckhardt knelt and kissed Luitprand's proffered hand. - -"The Saint has worked a miracle. Within a fortnight Rome will once more -greet the King of the Germans." - -Sighs of relief and mutterings of gladness drowned the reply of the -archbishop. He was seen to raise his hands in silent prayer, and the -deep hush returned anew. Other groups pushed eagerly forward to learn -the import of the tidings. - -The voice of Eckhardt now sounded curt and distinct, as he addressed -Archbishop Heribert of Cologne, Chancellor of the Holy Roman Empire. - -"If the God to whom you pray or your patron-saint, has endowed you with -the divine gift of persuasion,--use it now to prompt your king to leave -this accursed land and to return beyond the Alps. Roman wiles and Roman -fever had well-nigh claimed another victim. My resignation lies in the -hands of the King. My mission here is ended. I place your sovereign in -your hands. Keep him safe. I return to the Eastern March." - -Exclamations of surprise, chiefly from the German element, the Romans -listening in sullen silence, rose round the commander, like a sullen -squall. - -Eckhardt waved them back with uplifted arm. - -"The king requires my services no longer. He refuses to listen to my -counsel! He despises his own country. His sun rises and sets in Rome. -I no longer have his ear. His counsellors are Romans! The war is -ended. My sword has grown rusty. Let another bear the burden!--I -return to the Eastern March!" - -During Eckhardt's speech, whose curtness barely cloaked the grief of the -commander over a step, which he deemed irrevocable, the pallor in the -features of the Grand Chamberlain had deepened and a strange light shone -in his eyes, as, remote from the general's scrutiny, he watched and -listened. - -The German contingent, however, was not to be so easily reconciled to -Eckhardt's declaration. Bernhardt, the Saxon duke, Duke Burkhardt of -Suabia, Count Tassilo of Bavaria and Count Ludeger of the Palatinate -united their protests against a step so fatal in its remotest -consequences, with the result that the Margrave turned abruptly upon his -heels, strode from the hall of audience, and, passing through the rank -and file of the imperial guard, found himself on the crest of Mount -Aventine. - -Evening was falling. A solemn hush held enthralled the pulses of the -universe. A dazzling glow of gold swept the western heavens, and the -chimes of the Angelus rang out from untold cloisters and convents. To -southward, the towering summits of Soracté glowed in sunset gold. The -dazzling sheen reflected from the marble city on the Palatine proved -almost too blinding for Eckhardt's gaze, and with quick, determined -step, he began his descent towards the city. - -At the base of the hill his progress suffered a sudden check. - -A procession, weird, strange and terrible, hymning dirge-like the words -of some solemn chant, with the eternal refrain "Miserere! Miserere!" -wound round the shores of the Tiber. Four files of masked, black -spectres, their heads engulfed in black hoods, wooden crucifixes -dangling from their necks, carrying torches of resin, from which escaped -floods of reddish light, at times obscured by thick black smoke, marched -solemnly behind a monk, whose features could but vaguely be discerned in -the tawny glare of the funereal light. No phantom procession at midnight -could have inspired the popular mind with a terror so great as did this -brotherhood of Death, more terrifying than the later monks and ascetics -of Zurbaran, who so paraded the frightfulness of nocturnal visions in -the pure, unobscured light of the sun. In numbers there were -approximately four hundred. Their superior, a tall, gaunt and terrible -monk, escorted by his acolytes, held aloft a large black crucifix. A -fanatic of the iron type, whose austerity had won him a wide ascendency, -the monk Cyprianus, his cowl drawn deeply over his face, strode before -the brotherhood. The dense smoke of their torches, hanging motionless -in the still air of high noon, soon obscured the monks from view, even -before the last echoes of their sombre chant had died away. - -Without a fixed purpose in his mind, save that of observing the temper -of the populace, Eckhardt permitted himself to be swept along with the -crowds. Idlers mostly and inquisitive gapers, they constituted the -characteristic Roman mob, always swarming wherever there was anything to -be seen, however trifling the cause and insignificant the attraction. -They were those who, not choosing to work, lived by brawls and sedition, -the descendants of that uproarious mob, which in the latter days of the -empire filled the upper rows in theatre and circus, the descendants of -the rabble, whose suffrage no Cæsar was too proud to court in the -struggle against the free and freedom-loving remnants of the -aristocracy. - -But there were foreign elements which lent life and contrast to the -picture, elements which in equal number and profusion no other city of -the time, save Constantinople, could offer to the bewildered gaze of the -spectator. - -Moors from the Western Caliphate of Cordova, Saracens from the Sicilian -conquest, mingled with white-robed Bedouins from the desert; Greeks from -the Morea, Byzantines, Epirotes, Albanians, Jews, Danes, Poles, Slavs -and Magyars, Lombards, Burgundians and Franks, Sicilians, Neapolitans -and Venetians, heightened by the contrast of speech, manner and garb the -dazzling kaleidoscopic effect of the scene, while the powerful Northern -veterans of the German king thrust their way with brutal contempt -through the dregs of Romulus. - -After having extricated himself from the motley throngs, Eckhardt, -continuing his course to southward and following the Leonine wall, soon -found himself in the barren solitudes of Trastevere. Here he slackened -his pace, and, entering a cypress avenue, seated himself on a marble -bench, a relic of antiquity, offering at once shade and repose. - -Here he fell into meditation. - -Three years had elapsed since the death of a young and beloved wife, who -had gone from him after a brief but mysterious illness, baffling the -skill of the physicians. In the ensuing solitude he had acquired grave -habits of reflection. This day he was in a more thoughtful mood than -common. This day more than ever, he felt the void which nothing on -earth could fill. What availed his toils, his love of country, his -endurance of hardships? What was he the better now, in that he had -marched and watched and bled and twice conquered Rome for the empire? -What was this ambition, leading him up the steepest paths, by the brinks -of fatal precipices? He scarcely knew now, it was so long ago. Had -Ginevra lived, he would indeed have prized honour and renown and a name, -that was on all men's lips. And Eckhardt fell to thinking of the bright -days, when the very skies seemed fairer for her presence. Time, who -heals all sorrows, had not alleviated his grief. At his urgent request -he had been relieved of his Roman command. The very name of the city -was odious to him since her death. Appointed to the office of Great -Warden of the East and entrusted with the defence of the Eastern border -lands against the ever-recurring invasions of Bulgarians and Magyars, -the formidable name of the conqueror of Rome had in time faded to a mere -memory. - -Not so in the camp. Men said he bore a charmed existence, and indeed -his counsels showed the forethought and caution of the skilled leader, -while his personal conduct was remarkable for a reckless disregard of -danger. It was observed, though, that a deep and abiding melancholy had -taken possession of the once free and easy commander. Only under the -pressure of imminent danger did he seem to brighten into his former -self. At other times he was silent, preoccupied. But the Germans loved -their leader. They discussed him by their watch-fires; they marvelled -how one so ready on the field was so sparing with the wine cup, how the -general who could stop to fill his helmet from the running stream under -a storm of arrows and javelins and drink composedly with a jest and a -smile could be so backward at the revels. - -In the year 996, Crescentius, the Senator of Rome raised the standards -of revolt, expelled Gregory the Fifth and nominated a rival pontiff in -the infamous John the Sixteenth. Otto, then a mere youth of sixteen -summers, had summoned his hosts to the rescue of his friend, the -rightful pontiff. Reluctantly, and only moved by the tears of the -Empress Theophano, who placed the child king in his care and charge, -Eckhardt had resumed the command of the invading army. Twice had he put -down the rebellion of the Romans, reducing Crescentius to the state of a -vassal, and meting out terrible punishment to the hapless usurper of the -tiara. After recrossing the Alps, he had once more turned his attention -to the bleak, sombre forests of the North, when the imperial youth was -seized with an unconquerable desire to make Rome the capital of the -empire. Neither prayers nor persuasions, neither the threats of the -Saxon dukes nor the protests of the electors could shake Otto's -indomitable will. Eckhardt was again recalled from the wilds of Poland -to lead the German host across the Alps. - -Meanwhile increasing rumours of the impending End of Time began to -upheave and disturb the minds. A mystical trend of thought pervaded the -world, and as the Millennium drew nearer and nearer pilgrims of all ages -and all stages began to journey Rome-ward, to obtain forgiveness for -their sins, and to die within the pale of the Church. At first he -resisted the strange malady of the age, which slowly but irresistibly -attacked every order of society. But its morbid influences, seconded by -the memory of his past happiness, revived during his last journey to -Rome, at last threw Eckhardt headlong into the dark waves of -monasticism. - -During the present, to his mind, utterly purposeless expedition, it had -seemed to Eckhardt that there was no other salvation for the loneliness -in his heart, save that which beamed from the dismal gloom of the -cloister. At other times a mighty terror of the great lonesomeness of -monastic life seized him. The pulses of life began to throb strangely, -surging as a great wave to his heart and threatening to precipitate him -anew into the shifting scenes of the world. Yet neither mood endured. - -Ginevra's image had engraved itself upon his heart in lines deep as -those which the sculptors trace on ivory with tools reddened with fire. -Vainly had he endeavoured to cloud its memory by occupying his mind with -matters of state, for the love he felt for her, dead in her grave, -inspired him with secret terror. Blindly he was groping through the -labyrinth for a clue--It is hard to say: "Thy will be done." - -Passing over the sharp, sudden stroke, so numbing to his senses at the -time, that a long interval had to elapse, ere he woke to its full agony; -passing over the subsequent days of yearning, the nights of vain regret, -the desolation which had laid waste his life,--Eckhardt pondered over -the future. There was something ever wanting even to complete the dull -torpor of that resignation, which philosophy inculcates and common sense -enjoins. In vain he looked about for something on which to lean, for -something which would lighten his existence. The future was cold and -gray, and with spectral fingers the memories of the past seemed to point -down the dull and cheerless way. He had lost himself in the labyrinth -of life, since her guiding hand had left him, and now his soul was -racked by conflicting emotions; the desire for the peace of a recluse, -and the longing for such a life of action, as should temporarily drown -the voices of anguish in his heart. - -When he arose Rome was bathed in the crimson after glow of departing -day. The Tiber presented an aspect of peculiar tranquillity. Hundreds -of boats with many-coloured sails and fantastically decorated prows -stretched along the banks. Barges decorated with streamers and flags -were drawn up along the quays and wharfs. The massive gray ramparts of -Castel San Angelo glowed in the rich colours of sunset, and high in the -azure hung motionless the great standard, with the marble horses and the -flaming torch. - -Retracing his steps, Eckhardt soon found himself in the heart of Rome. -An almost endless stream of people, recruiting themselves from all clans -and classes, flowed steadily through the ancient Via Sacra. Equally -dense crowds enlivened the Appian Way and the adjoining thoroughfares, -leading to the Forum. In the Navona, then enjoying the distinction of -the fashionable promenade of the Roman nobility, the throngs were -densest and a vast array of vehicles from the two-wheeled chariot to the -Byzantine lectica thronged the aristocratic thoroughfare. Seemingly -interminable processions divided the multitudes, and the sombre and -funereal chants of pilgrims and penitents resounded on every side. - -Pressing onward step for step, Eckhardt reached the arch of Titus; -thence, leaving the fountain of Meta Sudans, and the vast ruins of the -Flavian Amphitheatre to the right, he turned into the street leading to -the Caelimontana Gate, known at this date by the name of Via di San -Giovanni in Laterano. Here the human congestion was somewhat relieved. -Some patrician chariots dashed up and down the broad causeway; graceful -riders galloped along the gravelled road, while a motley crowd of -pedestrians loitered leisurely along the sidewalks. Here a group of -young nobles thronged round the chariot of some woman of rank; there, a -grave, morose-looking scribe, an advocate or notary in the cloister-like -habit of his profession, pushed his way through the crowd. - -While slowly and aimlessly Eckhardt pursued his way through the shifting -crowds, a sudden shout arose in the Navona. After a brief interval it -was repeated, and soon a strange procession came into sight, which, as -the German leader perceived, had caused the acclamation on the part of -the people. In order to avoid the unwelcome stare of the Roman rabble, -Eckhardt lowered his vizor, choosing his point of observation upon some -crumbled fragment of antiquity, whence he might not only view the -approaching pageant, but at the same time survey his surroundings. On -one side were the thronged and thickly built piles of the ancient city. -On the opposite towered the Janiculan hill with its solitary palaces and -immense gardens. The westering sun illumined the distant magnificence -of the Vatican and suffered the gaze to expand even to the remote swell -of the Apennines. - -The procession, which slowly wound its way towards the point where -Eckhardt had taken his station, consisted of some twelve chariots, drawn -by snow-white steeds, which chafed at the bit, reared on their haunches, -and otherwise betrayed their reluctance to obey the hands which gripped -the rein--the hands of giant Africans in gaudy, fantastic livery. The -inmates of these chariots consisted of groups of young women in the -flower of beauty and youth, whose scant airy garments gave them the -appearance of wood-nymphs, playing on quaintly shaped lyres. While -renewed shouts of applause greeted the procession of the New Vestals, as -they styled themselves in defiance of the trade they plied, and the gaze -of the thousands was riveted upon them,--a new commotion arose in the -Navona. A shout of terror went up, the crowds swayed backward, spread -out and then were seen to scatter on both sides, revealing a chariot, -harnessed to a couple of fiery Berber steeds, which, having taken -fright, refused to obey the driver's grip and dashed down the populous -thoroughfare. With every moment the speed of the frightened animals -increased, and no hand was stretched forth from all those thousands to -check their mad career. The driver, a Nubian in fantastic livery, had -in the frantic effort to stop their onward rush, been thrown from his -seat, striking his head against a curb-stone, where he lay dazed. Here -some were fleeing, others stood gaping on the steps of houses. Still -others, with a cry of warning followed in the wake of the fleeting -steeds. Adding to the dismay of the lonely occupant of the chariot, a -woman, magnificently arrayed in a transparent garb of black -gossamer-web, embroidered with silver stars, the reins were dragging on -the ground. Certain death seemed to stare her in the face. Though -apprehensive of immediate destruction she disdained to appeal for -assistance, courting death rather than owe her life to the despised -mongrel-rabble of Rome. Despite the terrific speed of the animals she -managed to retain over her face the veil of black gauze, which -completely enshrouded her, though it revealed rather than concealed the -magnificent lines of her body. Eckhardt fixed his straining gaze upon -the chariot, as it approached, but the sun, whose flaming disk just then -touched the horizon, blinded him to a degree which made it impossible -for him to discern the features of a face supremely fair. - -For a moment it seemed as if the frightened steeds were about to dash -into an adjoining thoroughfare. - -Breathless and spellbound the thousands stared, yet there was none to -risk his life in the hazardous effort of stopping the blind onrush of -the maddened steeds. Suddenly they changed their course towards the -point where, hemmed in by the densely congested throngs, Eckhardt stood. -Snatching the cloak from his shoulders, the Margrave dashed through the -living wall of humanity and leaped fearlessly in the very path of the -snorting, onrushing steeds. With a dexterous movement he flung the dark -cover over their heads, escaping instantaneous death only by leaping -quickly to one side. Then dashing at the bits he succeeded, alone and -unaided, in stopping the terrified animals, though dragged along for a -considerable space. A great shout of applause went up from the throats -of those who had not moved a hand to prevent the impending disaster. -Unmindful of this popular outburst, Eckhardt held the frightened steeds, -which trembled in every muscle and gave forth ominous snorts, until the -driver staggered along. Half dazed from his fall and bleeding profusely -from a gash in the forehead, the Nubian, almost frightened out of his -wits, seized the lines and resumed his seat. The steeds, knowing the -accustomed hand, gradually quieted down. - -At the moment, when Eckhardt turned, to gain a glimpse of the occupant -of the chariot, a shriek close by caused him to turn his head. The -procession of the New Vestals had come to a sudden stand-still, owing to -the blocking of the thoroughfare, through which the runaway steeds had -dashed, the clearing behind them having been quickly filled up with a -human wall. During this brief pause some individual, the heraldry of -whose armour denoted him a Roman baron, had pounced upon one of the -chariots and seized one of its scantily clad occupants. The girl had -uttered a shriek of dismay and was struggling to free herself from the -ruffian's clutches, while her companions vainly remonstrated with her -assailant. To hear the shriek, to turn, to recognize the cause, and to -pounce upon the Roman, were acts almost of the same moment to Eckhardt. -Clutching the girl's assailant by the throat, without knowing in whose -defence he was entering the contest, he thundered in accents of such -unmistakable authority, as to give him little doubt of the alternative: -"Let her go!" - -With a terrible oath, Gian Vitelozzo released his victim, who quickly -remounted her chariot, and turned upon his assailant. - -"Who in the name of the foul fiend are you, to interfere with my -pleasure?" he roared, almost beside himself with rage as he perceived -his prey escaping his grasp. - -Through his closed visor, Eckhardt regarded the noblemen with a contempt -which the latter instinctively felt, for he paled even ere his -antagonist spoke. Then approaching the baron, Eckhardt whispered one -word into his ear. Vitelozzo's cheeks turned to leaden hues and, -trembling like a whipped cur, he slunk away. The crowds, upon -witnessing the noble's dismay, broke into loud cheers, some even went so -far as to kiss the hem of Eckhardt's mantle. - -Shaking himself free of the despised rabble whose numbers had been a -hundred times sufficient to snatch his prey from Vitelozzo and his -entire clan, Eckhardt continued upon his way, wondering whom he had -saved from certain death, and whom, as he thought, from dishonour. The -procession of the New Vestals had disappeared in the haze of the -distance. Of the chariot and its mysterious inmate not a trace was to be -seen. Without heeding the comments upon his bravery, unconscious that -two eyes had followed his every step, since he left the imperial palace, -Eckhardt slowly proceeded upon his way, until he found himself at the -base of the Palatine. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *ON THE PALATINE* - - -The moon was rising over the distant Alban hills, when Eckhardt began -his ascent. Now and then, he paused on a spot, which offered a -particularly striking view of the city, reposing in the fading light of -day. No sound broke the solemn stillness, save the tolling of -convent-bells on remote Aventine, or the sombre chant of pilgrims before -some secluded shrine. - -Like the ghost of her former self, Rome seemed to stretch interminably -into the ever deepening purple haze. - -Colossal watch-towers, four-cornered, massive, with twin-like steeples -and crenelated ramparts, dominated the view on all sides. Their shadows -fell afar from one to another. Here and there, conspicuous among the -houses, loomed up the wondrous structures of old Rome, sometimes singly, -sometimes in thickly set groups. Beyond the walls the aqueducts pursued -their long and sinuous path-ways through the Campagna. The distant Alban -hills began to shroud their undulating summits in the slowly rising -mists of evening. - -What a stupendous desolation time had wrought! - -As he slowly proceeded up the hill, Eckhardt beheld the Palatine's -enormous structures crumbled to ruin. The high-spanned vaulted arches -and partitions still rested on their firm foundations of Tophus stone, -their ruined roofs supported by massive pillars, broken, pierced and -creviced. Resplendent in the last glow of departing day towered high -the imperial palaces of Augustus, Tiberius and Domitian. The -Septizonium of Alexander Severus, still well preserved in its seven -stories, had been converted into a feudal stronghold by Alberic, chief -of the Optimates, while Caligula's great piles of stone rose high and -dominating in the evening air. The Jovian temples were still standing -close to the famous tomb of Romulus, but the old triumphal course was -obstructed with filth. In crescent shape here and there a portico was -visible, shadeless and long deprived of roofing. High towered the -Coliseum's stately ruins; Circus and Stadium were overgrown with bushes; -of the baths of Diocletian and Caracalla, once magnificent and imposing, -only ruins remained. Crumbling, weatherbeaten masonry confronted the -eye on every turn. Endless seemed the tangled maze of crooked lanes, -among which loomed a temple-gable green with moss or a solitary column; -an architrave resting on marble columns, looked down upon the huts of -poverty. Nero's golden palace and the Basilica of Maxentius lay in -ruins; but in the ancient Forum temples were still standing, their -slender columns pointing to the skies with their ornate Corinthian -capitals. - -The Rome of the Millennium was indeed but the phantom of her own past. -On all sides the eye was struck with inexorable decay. Where once -triumphal arches, proud, erect, witnessed pomp and power, crumbling -piles alone recorded the memory of a glorious past. Great fragments -strewed the virgin-soil of the Via Sacra from the splendid arch of -Constantine to the Capitol. The Roman barons had turned the old Roman -buildings into castles. The Palatine and the adjoining Coelian hill -were now lorded over by the powerful house of the Pierleoni. -Crescentius, the Senator of Rome, claimed Pompey's theatre and the -Mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian, Castel San Angelo; in the waste fields -of Campo Marzio the Cavalli had seized the Mausoleum of Augustus; the -Aventine was claimed by the Romani and Stefaneschi; the Stadium of -Domitian by the Massimi. In the Fora of Trajan and Nerva the Conti had -ensconced themselves; the theatre of Marcellus was held by the Caetani -and the Guidi ruled in the tomb of Metellus. - -There was an inexpressible charm in the sadness of this desolation which -chimed strangely with Eckhardt's own life, now but a memory of its -former self. - -It was a wonderful night. Scarce a breath of air stirred the dying -leaves. The vault of the sky was unobscured, arching deep-blue over the -higher rising moon. To southward the beacon fires from the Tor di -Vergera blazed like a red star low down in the horizon. Wrapt in deep -thought, Eckhardt followed the narrow road, winding his way through a -wilderness of broken arches and fallen porticoes, through a region -studded with convents, cloisters and the ruins of antiquity. Gray mists -began to rise over housetops and vineyards, through which at intervals -the Tiber gleamed like a yellow serpent in the moonlight. Near the -Ripetta long spirals of dark smoke curled up to the azure night-sky and -the moon cast a glory on the colossal statue of the Archangel Michael, -where it stood on the gloomy keep of Castel San Angelo. The rising -night-wind rustled in organ-tones among the cypress trees; the fountains -murmured, and in a silvery haze the moon hung over the slumbering city. - -Slowly Eckhardt continued the ascent of the Palatine and he had scarcely -reached the summit, when out of the ruins there rose a shadow, and he -found himself face to face with Benilo, the Grand Chamberlain. - -"By St. Peter and St. Paul and all the saints I can remember!" exclaimed -the latter, "is it Eckhardt, the Margrave, or his ghost? But no matter -which,--no man more welcome!" - -"I am but myself," replied Eckhardt, as he grasped the proffered hand. - -"Little did I hope to meet you here," Benilo continued, regarding -Eckhardt intently. "I thought you far away among the heathen Poles." - -"I hate the Romans so heartily, that now and then I love to remind them -of my presence." - -"Ay! Like Timon of Athens, you would bequeath to them your last -fig-tree, that they may hang themselves from its branches," Benilo -replied with a smile. - -"I should require a large orchard. Is Rome at peace?" - -"The burghers wrangle about goats' wool, the monks gamble for a human -soul, and the devil stands by and watches the game," replied Benilo. - -"Have you surprised any strange rumours during my absence?" questioned -Eckhardt guardedly. - -"They say much or little, as you will," came the enigmatic reply. "I -have heard your name from the lips of one, who seldom speaks, save to -ill purpose." - -Eckhardt nodded with a grim smile, while he fixed his eyes on his -companion. Slowly they lost themselves in the wilderness of crumbling -arches and porticoes. - -At last Eckhardt spoke, a strange mixture of mirth and irony in his -tones. - -"But your own presence among these ruins? Has Benilo, the Grand -Chamberlain become a recluse, dwelling among flitter mice and -jack-daws?" - -"I have not sipped from the fount of the mystics," Benilo replied. "But -often at the hour of dusk I seek the solitudes of the Palatine, which -chime so strangely with my weird fancies. Here I may roam at will and -without restraint,--here I may revel in the desolation, enlivened only -now and then by the shrill tones of a shepherd's pipe; here I may ramble -undisturbed among the ruins of antiquity, pondering over the ancient -greatness of Rome, pondering over the mighty that have fallen.--I have -just completed an Ode--all but the final stanzas. It is to greet Otto -upon his return. The Archbishop of Cologne announced the welcome -tidings of the king's convalescence--truly, a miracle of the saint!" - -Eckhardt had listened attentively, then he remarked drily: - -"Let each man take his own wisdom and see whither it will lead him. -Otto is still pursuing a mocking phantom under the ruins of crumbled -empires, but to find the bleached bones of some long-forgotten Cæsar! -Truly, a worthy cause, in which to brave the danger of Alpine snows and -avalanches--and the fever of the Maremmas." - -"We both try to serve the King--each in his way," Benilo replied, -contritely. - -Eckhardt extended his hand. - -"You are a poet and a philosopher. I am a soldier and a German.--I have -wronged you in thought--forgive and forget!" - -Benilo readily placed his hand in that of his companion. After a pause -Eckhardt continued: - -"My business in Rome touches neither emperor nor pope. Once, I too, -wooed the fair Siren Rome. But the Siren proved a Vampire.--Rome is a -enamel house.--Her caress is Death." - -There was a brief silence. - -"'Tis three years since last we strode these walks," Eckhardt spoke -again. "What changes time has wrought!" - -"Have the dead brought you too back to Rome?" queried Benilo with -averted gaze. - -"Even so," Eckhardt replied, as he strode by Benilo's side. "The dead! -Soon I too shall exchange the garb of the world for that of the -cloister." - -The Chamberlain stared aghast at his companion. - -"You are not serious?" he stammered, with well-feigned surprise. - -Eckhardt nodded. - -"The past is known to you!" he replied with a heavy sigh. "Since she has -gone from me to the dark beyond, I have striven for peace and oblivion -in every form,--in the turmoil of battle, before the shrines of the -Saints.--In vain! I have striven to tame this wild passion for one dead -and in her grave. But this love cannot be strangled as a lion is -strangled, and the skill of the mightiest athlete avails nothing in such -a struggle. The point of the arrow has remained in the wound. Madness, -to wander for ever about a grave, to think eternally, fatefully of one -who cannot see you, cannot hear you, one who has left earth in all the -beauty and splendour of youth." - -A pause ensued, during which neither spoke. - -They walked for some time in silence among the gigantic ruins of the -Palatine. Like an alabaster lamp the moon hung in the luminous vault of -heaven. How peacefully fair beneath the star-sprinkled violet sky was -this deserted region, bordered afar by tall, spectral cypress-trees -whose dark outlines were clearly defined against the mellow luminance of -the ether. At last Eckhardt and his companion seated themselves on the -ruins of a shattered portico, which had once formed the entrance to a -temple of Saturnus. - -Each seemed to be occupied with his own thoughts, when Eckhardt raised -his head and gazed inquiringly at his companion, who had likewise -assumed a listening attitude. Through the limpid air of the autumnal -night, like faint echoes from dream-land, there came softly vibrating -harp-tones, mingled with the clash of tinkling cymbals, borne aloft from -distant groves. Faint ringing chimes, as of silver bells, succeeded -these broken harmonies, followed by another clash of cymbals, stormily -persistent, then dying away on the evanescent breezes. - -A strange, stifling sensation oppressed Eckhardt's heart, as he listened -to these bells. They seemed to remind him of things which had long -passed out of his life, the peaceful village-chimes in his far-away -Saxon land, the brief dream of the happy days now for ever gone. But -hark! had he not heard these sounds before? Had they not caressed his -ears on the night, when accompanying the king from Aix-la-Chapelle to -Merséburg, they passed the fateful Hoerselberg in Thuringia? - -Eckhardt made the sign of the cross, but the question rising to his lips -was anticipated by Benilo, who pointed towards a remote region of the -Aventine, just as the peals of the chiming bells, softened by distance -into indistinct tremulous harmonies, and the clarion clearness of the -cymbals again smote the stillness with their strangely luring clangour. - -"Yonder lies the palace of Theodora," Benilo remarked indifferently. - -Eckhardt listened with a strange sensation. - -He remembered the pageant he had witnessed in the Navona, the pageant, -from whose more minute contemplation he had been drawn by the incident -with Gian Vitelozzo. - -"Who is the woman?" he questioned with some show of interest. - -"Regarding that matter there is considerable speculation," replied -Benilo. - -"Have you any theory of your own?" - -The Chamberlain shrugged his shoulders. - -"Heard you ever of a remote descendant of Marozia, still living in -Italy?" - -"I thought they had all been strangled long ago." - -"But if there were one, deem you, that the harlot-blood which flowed in -the veins of her mother and all the women of her house would be -sanctified by time, a damp convent-cell, and a rosary?" - -"I know nothing of a surviving limb of that lightning-blasted trunk." - -"Did not the direct line of Marozia end with John XI, whom she succeeded -in placing in the chair of St. Peter, ere she herself was banished to a -convent, where she died?" questioned Benilo. - -"So it is reported! And this woman's name is?" - -"Theodora!" - -"You know her?" - -Benilo met Eckhardt's gaze unflinchingly. - -"I have visited her circle," he replied indifferently. - -Eckhardt nodded. He understood. - -Dexterously changing the subject Benilo continued after a pause. - -"If you had but some heart-felt passion, to relieve your melancholy; if -you could but love somebody or something," he spoke sympathetically. -"Truly, it was never destined for the glorious career of Eckhardt to end -behind the bleak walls of a cloister." - -Eckhardt bowed his head. - -"Philosophy is useless. Strange ailments require strange cures." - -For some time they gazed in silence into the moonlit night. Around them -towered colossal relics of ancient grandeur, shattered walls, naked -porticoes. Wildernesses of broken arches stretched interminably into -the bluish haze, amidst woods and wild vegetation, which had arisen as -if to reassert their ancient possessions of the deserted site. - -At last Eckhardt spoke, hesitatingly at first, as one testing his -ground, gradually with firmer purpose, which seemed to go straight to -the heart of his companion. - -"There is much about Ginevra's sudden death that puzzles me, a mystery -which I have in vain endeavoured to fathom. The facts are known to you, -I can pass them over, dark as everything seems to me at this very -moment. So quickly, so mysteriously did she pass out of my life, that I -could not, would not trust the testimony of my senses. I left the house -on the Caelian hill on that fateful night, and though I felt as if my -eyes were bursting from my head, they did not shed a single tear. Where -I went, or what I did, I could not tell. I walked about, as one -benumbed, dazed, as it sometimes happens, when the cleaving stroke of an -iron mace falls upon one's helmet, deafening and blinding. This I -remember--I passed the bridge near the tower of Nona and, ascending the -Borgo, made for the gate of San Sebastian. The monks of Della Regola -soon appeared, walking two by two, accompanied by a train of acolytes, -chanting the Miserere, and bearing the coffin covered with a large pall -of black velvet." - -Eckhardt paused, drawing a deep breath. Then he continued, slowly: - -"All this did not rouse me from the lethargy which had benumbed my -senses. Only the one thought possessed me: Since we had been severed in -life, in death at least we could be united. We were both journeying to -the same far-off land, and the same tomb would give us repose together. -I followed the monks with a triumphant but gloomy joy, feeling myself -already transported beyond the barriers of life. Ponte Sisto and -Trastevere passed, we entered San Pancrazio." - -There was another pause, Benilo listening intently. - -"The body placed in the chapel, prior to the performance of the last -rites," Eckhardt continued, "I hurried away from the place and wandered -all night round the streets like a madman, ready to seek my own -destruction. But the hand of Providence withheld me from the crime. I -cannot describe what I suffered; the agony, the despair, that wrung my -inmost heart. I could no longer support a life that seemed blighted -with the curse of heaven, and I formed the wildest plans, the maddest -resolutions in my whirling brain. For a strange, terrible thought had -suddenly come over me. I could not believe that Ginevra was dead. And -the longer I pondered, the greater became my anxiety and fear. Late in -the night I returned to the chapel. I knelt in the shadow of the vaulted -arches, leaning against the wall, while the monks chanted the Requiem. -I heard the 'Requiescat in Pace,' I saw them leave the chapel, but I -remained alone in the darkness, for there was no lamp save the lamp of -the Virgin. At this moment a bell tolled. The sacristan who was making -the rounds through the church, preparatory to closing, passed by me. He -saw me, without recognizing who I was, and said: 'I close the doors.' -'I shall remain,' I answered. He regarded me fixedly, then said: 'You -are bold! I will leave the door ajar--stay, if you will!' And without -speaking another word he was out. I paid little heed to him, though his -words had strangely stirred me. What did he mean? After a few moments -my reasoning subsided, but my determination grew with my fear. -Everything being still as the grave, I approached the coffin, cold sweat -upon my brow. Removing the pall which covered it, I drew my dagger which -was strong and sharp, intending to force open the lid, when suddenly I -felt a stinging, benumbing pain on my head, as from the blow of a -cudgel. How long I lay unconscious, I know not. When after some days I -woke from the swoon, the monks had raised a heavy stone over Ginevra's -grave, during the night of my delirium. I left Rome, as I thought, for -ever. But strange misgivings began to haunt my sleep and my waking -hours. Why had they not permitted me to see once more the face I had so -dearly loved, ere they fastened down for ever the lid of the coffin? -'Tis true, they contended that the ravages of the fever to which she had -succumbed had precipitated the decomposition of her body. Still--the -more I ponder over her death, the more restless grows my soul. Thus I -returned to Rome, even against my own wish and will. I will not tarry -long. Perchance some light may beam on the mystery which has terrified -my dreams, from a source, least expected, though so far I have in vain -sought for the monk who conducted the last rites, and whose eyes saw -what was denied to mine." - -There was a dead silence, which lasted for a space, until it grew almost -painful in its intensity. At last Benilo spoke. - -"To return to the night of her interment. Was there no one near you, to -dispel those dread phantoms which maddened your brain?" - -"I had suffered no one to remain. I wished to be alone with my grief." - -"But whence the blow?" - -"The masons had wrenched away an iron bar, in walling up the old -entrance. Had the height been greater, I would not be here to tell the -tale." - -Benilo drew a deep breath. He was ghastly pale. - -"But your purpose in Rome?" - -"I will find the monk who conducted the last rites--I will have speech -with Nilus, the hermit. If all else fails, the cloister still remains." - -"Let me entreat you not to hasten the irrevocable step. Neither your -king nor your country can spare their illustrious leader." - -"Otto has made his peace with Rome. He has no further need of me," -Eckhardt replied with bitterness. "But this I promise. I shall do -nothing, until I have had speech with the holy hermit of Gaëta. -Whatever he shall enjoin, thereby will I abide. I shall do nothing -hastily, or ill-advised." - -They continued for a time in silence, each wrapt in his own thoughts. -Without one ray of light beaming on his course, Eckhardt beheld a -thousand vague and shadowy images passing before his eyes. That -subterranean love, so long crouched at his soul's stairway, had climbed -a few steps higher, guided by some errant gleam of hope. The weight of -the impossible pressed no longer so heavily upon him, since he had -lightened his burden by the long withheld confession. The vertigo of -fatality had seized him. By a succession of irregular and terrible -events he believed himself hurried towards the end of his goal. A -mighty wave had lifted him up and bore him onward. - -"Whither?" - -From the distance, borne aloft on the wings of the night-wind, came -faintly the chant of pilgrims from secluded shrines on the roadway. -Eckhardt's mind was made up. He would seek Nilus, the hermit. -Perchance he would point out to him the road to peace and set at rest -the dread misgivings, which tortured him beyond endurance. This boon -obtained, what mattered all else? The End of Time was nigh. It would -solve all mysteries which the heart yearned to know. - -And while Benilo seemed to muse in silence over the strange tale which -his companion had poured into his ear, the latter weighed a resolve -which he dared not even breathe, much less confide to human ear. Truly, -the task required of Nilus was great. - -At last Eckhardt and Benilo parted for the night. Eckhardt went his -way, pondering, and wondering what the morrow would bring, and Benilo -returned among the ruins of the Palatine, where he remained seated for a -time, staring up at the starry night-sky, as if it contained the -solution of all that was dark and inscrutable in man's existence. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *THE WANTON COURT OF THEODORA* - - -A strange restlessness had seized the Chamberlain, after his meeting -with the German commander. The moon illumined the desolate region with -her white beams, dividing the silent avenues into double edged lines of -silvery white, and bluish shadows. The nocturnal day with its subdued -tints disguised and mantled the desolation. The mutilated columns, the -roofs, crumbled beneath the torrents and thunders of centuries, were -less conspicuous than when seen in the clear, merciless light of the -sun. The lost parts were completed by the half tints of shadows; only -here and there a brusque beam of light marked the spot, where a whole -edifice had crumbled away. The silent genii of Night seemed to have -repaired the ancient city to some representation of fantastic life. - -As he hurried along the slopes of the hill, Benilo fancied at times that -he beheld vague forms, lurking in the shadows; but they seemed to vanish -the moment he approached. Low whisperings, an undefined hum, floated -through the silence. First he attributed the noises to a fluttering in -his ears, to the sighing of the night-wind or to the flight of some -snake or lizard through the nettles. In nature all things live, even -death; all things make themselves heard, even silence. Never before had -Benilo felt such an involuntary terror. Once or twice he precipitately -changed his course, hurrying down some narrow lane, between desolate -looking rows of houses, low and ill-favoured, whose inmates recruited -themselves from the lowest types of the mongrel population of Rome. - -At the Agrippina below the bridge of Nero he paused and gave a sigh of -relief. The phantoms seemed to have vanished. No breath of life broke -the stillness. As on a second Olympus the marble palaces of the Cæsars -towered on the summit of the Capitoline hill, glistening white in the -ghostly moonlight. Below, the Tiber sent his sluggish waves down toward -Ostia, rocking the fleet of numberless boats and barges which swung -lazily at their moorings. - -Benilo found himself in a quarter of Rome which had been abandoned for -centuries. Ruins of temples and porticoes were strewn in the waste -which he traversed. Here at least he could breathe more freely. No one -was likely to surprise his presence in these solitudes. The -superstition of the age prevented the Romans from frequenting the vale -between Mounts Aventine and Testaccio after dark, for it was believed to -be the abode of evil spirits. - -As the Chamberlain made his way through the wilderness of fallen -columns, shattered porticoes, and tangles of myrrh and acanthus, the -faint clash of cymbals, like the echo of some distant bacchanalia, fell -upon his ear. A strange fitful melody, rising and falling with weird -thrilling cadence, was borne upon the perfumed breezes. - -He had not advanced very far, when through an avenue of tall spectral -cypress trees he emerged upon a smooth and level lawn, shut in by black -groups of cedar, through the entwined branches of which peeped the -silver moon. - -Traversing a broad marble terrace, garlanded with a golden wealth of -orange trees and odorous oleanders, Benilo approached a lofty building, -surrounded at some distance by a wall of the height of half-grown palms. -A great gate stood ajar, which appeared to be closely guarded. Leaning -against one of the massive pillars which supported it, stood an African -of giant stature, in scarlet tunic and white turban, who, turning his -gleaming eyeballs on Benilo, nodded by way of salutation. Entering the -forbidden grounds, the Chamberlain found himself in a spacious garden -which he traversed with quick, elastic step, as one familiar with the -locality. - -As Benilo advanced under the leafy branches, swaying in melancholy -relief against the blue-green sky, the sight of thousands of coloured -lamps hanging in long festoons from tree to tree first caused him to -start and to look about. A few moments later he was walking between -quaintly clipped laurel and yew-bushes, which bordered the great avenue -starred with semi-circular lights, where bronze and marble statues held -torches and braziers of flame. - -Sounds of joy and merry-making fell upon his ear, causing a frown, like -a black shadow, to flit over his face, deepening by stages into -ill-repressed rage. In whichever manner the dark prophecies concerning -the Millennium may have affected the Romans and the world at large, it -was quite evident they disturbed not the merry circle assembled in the -great hall beyond. - -At last Benilo found himself at the entrance of a vast circular hall. -The picture which unfolded itself to his gaze was like a fairy fantasy. -Gilded doors led in every direction into vast corridors, ending in a -peri-style supported by pillars. These magnificent oval halls admitted -neither the light of day nor the season of the year. The large central -hall, at the threshold of which Benilo stood, reviewing the spectacle -before him, had no windows. Silver candelabra, perpetually burning -behind transparent curtains of sea-green gauze diffused a jewel-like -radiance. - -And here, in the drowsy warmth, lounging on divans of velvet, their feet -sunk in costly Indian and Persian carpets, drinking, gossiping, and -occasionally bursting into fitful snatches of song, revelled a company -of distinguished men, richly clad, representatives of the most exclusive -Roman society of the time. They seemed bent upon no other purpose save -to enjoy the pleasure of the immediate hour. Africans in fantastic -attire carried aloft flagons and goblets, whose crystalline sheen -reflected the crimson glow of the spicy Cyprian. - -Benilo's arrival had not been noticed. In the shadow of the entrance he -viewed the brilliant picture with its changing tints, its flash of -colour, its glint of gold, the enchanting women, who laughingly -gossipped and chatted with their guests, freed from the least restraint -in dress or manner, thus adding the last spark to the fire of the purple -Chianti. But as he gazed round the circle, the shade of displeasure -deepened in Benilo's countenance.' - -Bembo, the most renowned wit in the seven-hilled city, had just recited -one of his newest and most poignant epigrams, sparing neither emperor -nor pope, and had been rewarded by the loud applause of his not too -critical audience and a smile from the Siren, who, in the absence of the -hostess, seemed to preside over that merry circle. With her neck and -shoulders half veiled in transparent gauze, revealing rather than -concealing the soft, undulating lines of her supple body and arms, her -magnificent black hair knotted up at the back of her head and wreathed -with ivy, Roxané smiled radiantly from the seat of honour, which she had -usurped, the object of mad desire of many a one present, of eager -admiration to all. A number of attendants moved quickly and noiselessly -about the spacious hall, decorated with palms and other tropical plants, -while among the revellers the conversation grew more lively every -moment. - -In the shadow of the great door Benilo paused and listened. - -"Where is the Queen of the Groves?" Roffredo, a dissolute youth, -questioned his neighbour, who divided his attention between the fair -nymph by his side and the goblet which trembled in his hands. - -"Silence!" replied the personage to whom the young noble had addressed -himself, with a meaning glance. - -Roffredo and the girl by his side glanced in the direction indicated by -the speaker. - -"Benilo," replied the Patrician. "Is he responsible for Theodora's -absence?" - -Oliverotto uttered a coarse laugh. - -Then he added with a meaning glance: - -"I will enlighten you at some other time. But is it true that you have -rescued some errant damsel from Vitelozzo's clutches? Why do you not -gladden our eyes with so chaste a morsel?" - -Roffredo shrugged his shoulders. - -"Who knows, whether it was the vulture's first visit to the dove's -nest?" he replied with a disgusting smile. "'Tis not a matter of much -consequence." - -Benilo heard the lie and the empty boast. He hated the prating youth -for reasons of his own, but cared not to interfere at this stage, -unconscious that his presence had been remarked. - -"Is she fair?" questioned the girl by Roffredo's side. - -"Some might call her so," replied the latter. - -The girl pouted and raised the goblet to her lips. - -"Reveal her name to us!" croaked Bembo, who, though at some distance, -had heard every word of the discourse. "And I will forthwith dedicate to -her five and twenty stanzas on her virtue!" - -"Who spoke the fatal word?" laughed Roxané, who presided over the -circle. "What is amusing you so much, you ancient wine-cask?" She then -turned to the poet, whose rather prosaic circumference well justified -the epithet. - -"The old theme--women!" croaked Bembo good-humouredly. - -"Forget it!" shouted Roffredo, draining his goblet. "Rather than listen -to your tirades, they would grasp the red hot hand of the devil." - -"Ah! We live in a sorry age and it behooves us to think of the end," -Roxané sighed with a mock air of contrition, which called forth a -general outburst of mirth. - -"You are the very one to ponder over the most convenient mode of exit -into the beyond," sneered the Lord of Gravina. - -"What have we here?" rasped Bembo. "Who dares to speak of death in this -assembly?" - -"Nay, we would rather postpone the option till it finds us face to face -with that villainous concoction you served us, to make us forget your -more villainous poetry," shouted Oliverotto, hobbling across the hall -and slapping the poet on the back. "I knew not that Roman soil produced -so vile vintage!" - -"'Twas Lacrymae Christi," remonstrated Bembo. "Would you have Ambrosia -with every epigram on your vileness?" - -"Nay, it was Satan's own brew," shrieked the baron, his voice strident -as that of a cat, which has swallowed a fish bone. - -And Oliverotto clinked his goblet and cast amorous glances right and -left out of small watery eyes. - -Bembo regarded him contemptuously. - -"By the Cross! You are touched up and painted like a wench! Everything -about you is false, even to your wit! Beware, fair Roxané,--he is ogling -you as a bullfrog does the stars!" - -At this stage an intermezzo interrupted the light, bantering tone of -conversation. A curtain in the background parted. A bevy of black -haired girls entered the hall, dressed in airy gowns, which revealed -every line, every motion of their bodies. They encircled the guests in a -mad whirl, inclining themselves first to one, then to the other. They -were led by one, garbed as Diana, with the crescent moon upon her -forehead, her black hair streaming about the whiteness of her statuesque -body like dark sea-waves caressing marble cliffs. Taking advantage of -this stage of the entertainment Benilo crossed the vast hall unnoticed -and sat apart from the revellers in gloomy silence, listening with -ill-concealed annoyance to the shouts of laughter and the clatter of -irritating tongues. The characteristic wantonness of his features had -at this moment given place to a look of weariness and suffering, a -seemingly unaccustomed expression; it was a look of longing, the craving -of a passion unsatisfied, a hope beyond his hope. Many envied him for -his fame and profligacy, others read in his face the stamp of sullen -cruelty, which vented itself wherever resistance seemed useless; but -there was none to sound his present mood. - -Benilo had not been at his chosen spot very long, when some one touched -him on the shoulder. Looking up, he found himself face to face with an -individual, wrapt in a long mantle, the colour of which was a curious -mixture of purple and brown. His face was shaded by a conical hat, a -quaint combination of Byzantine helmet and Norse head-gear, being -provided with a straight, sloping brim, which made it impossible to -scrutinize his features. This personage was Hezilo, a wandering -minstrel seemingly hailing from nowhere. At least no one had penetrated -the mystery which enshrouded him. - -"Are you alone insensible to the charms of these?" And Benilo's -interlocutor pointed to the whirling groups. - -"I was thinking of one who is absent," Benilo replied, relapsing into -his former listless attitude. - -"Why not pluck the flowers that grow in your path, waiting but your will -and pleasure?" - -Benilo clenched his hands till the nails were buried in the flesh. - -"Have you ever heard of an Eastern drug, which mirrors Paradise before -your senses?" - -Hezilo shook his head. "What of it?" - -"He who becomes its victim is doomed irretrievably. While under its -baleful spell, he is happy. Deprive him of it and the horrors of hell -are upon him. No rest! No peace! And like the fiend addicted to the -drug is the thrice accursed wretch who loves Theodora." - -Hezilo regarded the Chamberlain strangely. - -"Benilo deploring the inconstancy of woman," he said with noiseless -laugh. Then, beckoning to one of the attendants, he took from the -salver thus offered to him a goblet, which he filled with the dark -crimson wine. - -"Drink and forget," he cried. "You will find it even better than your -Eastern drug." - -Benilo shook his head and pushed away the proffered wine. - -"Your advice comes too late!" - -For a moment neither spoke. Benilo, busied with his own thoughts, sat -listening to the boisterous clamour of the revellers, while the harper's -gaze rested unseen upon him. - -After a pause he broke the silence. - -"How chanced it," he said, placing his hand affectionately on the -other's shoulder, "that Benilo, who has broken all ten commandments and, -withal, hearts untold, Benilo, who could have at his feet every woman in -Rome, became woman's prey, her abject slave? That he is grovelling in -the dust, where he might be lord and master? That he whines and -whimpers, where he should command?" - -Benilo turned fiercely upon his interlocutor. - -"Who dares say that I whine and whimper and grovel at her feet? Fools -all! On a mountain pass the trip is easier down than up! Know you what -it means to love a woman with mad consuming passion, but to be cast -aside for some blatant ass, to catch a few crumbs of favour tossed in -one's face? Men like that rhyming zebra Bembo, who sings of love, which -he has never felt." - -"Still you have not answered my question," said the harper with quiet -persistence. "Why are you the slave where you should be the master? -Theodora is whimsical, heartless, cruel; still she is a woman." - -"She is a devil, a heartless beautiful devil who grinds the hearts of -men beneath her feet and laughs. Sometimes she taunts me till I could -strangle her--ah! But I placed myself in the demon's power and having -myself broken the compact which bound me to her, body and soul--from the -lord I was, I have sunk to the slave I am,--you see, I speak free from -the heart, what little she has left of it." - -The harper nodded. - -"Why not leave Rome for a time?" he said. "Your absence might soften -Theodora's heart. Your sins, whatever they were, will appear less -glaring in the haze of the distance." - -Benilo looked up like an infuriated tiger. - -"Has she appointed you my guardian?" he laughed harshly. - -"I have had no words with her," replied the harper. "But one with eyes -to see, cannot help but sound your ailment." - -The Chamberlain relaxed. - -"The drug is in the blood," he replied wearily. - -"Then win her back, if you can," said the harper. - -Benilo clenched his hands while he glared up at the other. "It is a game -between the devil and despair, and the devil has the deal." - -"A losing game for you, should either win." - -Benilo nodded. - -"I know it! Yet one single word would make me master where I am the -slave." - -"And you waver?" - -"Silence!" growled Benilo. "Tempt me no more!" - -Their discourse at this point was rudely interrupted by the clamour of -the guests, bent upon silencing Bembo's exuberance, whose tongue, like a -ribbon in the wind, fluttered incessantly. He bore himself with the airs -of some orator of antiquity, rolling his eyes until they showed the -whites beneath, and beating the air with his short, chubby arms. - -"If Bembo is to be believed there is not in all Rome one faithful wife -nor one innocent girl," roared the lord of Bracciano, a burly noble who -was balancing a dainty dancer on his knee, while she held his faun-like -head encircled with her arms. - -"Pah!" cried Guido da Fermo, a baron whose chief merit consisted in -infesting the roads in the Patrimony of St. Peter. "There are some, but -they are scarce, remarkably scarce!" - -"Make your wants known at the street corners," exclaimed Roffredo, -taking the cue. "And I wager our fair Queen would be the first to claim -the prize." - -And the young Patrician whose face revealed traces of grossest -debauchery gazed defiantly round the hall, as if challenging some one to -take up the gauntlet, if he dared. - -"Be careful!" whispered the girl Nelida, his companion. "Benilo is -looking at you!" - -Roffredo laughed boisterously. - -"Theodora's discarded lover? Why should I muffle my speech to please -his ear?" - -The girl laughed nervously. - -"Because the tongue of a fool, when long enough, is a rope to hang him -by,--and he loves her still!" - -"He loves her still," drawled the half-intoxicated Patrician, turning -his head toward the spot where Benilo sat listening with flaming eyes. -"The impudence!" - -And he staggered to his feet, holding aloft the goblet with one hand, -while the other encircled the body of the dancing girl, who tried in -vain to silence him. - -"Fill your goblets," he shouted,--"fill your goblets full--to the brim." - -He glanced round the hall with insolent bravado, while Benilo, who had -not lost a word the other had spoken, leaned forward, his thin lips -straightening in a hard white line, while his narrowing eyelids and his -trembling hands attested his pent up ire louder than words. - -"A toast to the absent," shrieked Roffredo. "A toast to the most -beautiful and the most virtuous woman in Rome, a toast to--" - -He paused for an instant, for a white-cheeked face close to his, -whispered: - -"Stop! On your life be silent!" - -But Roffredo paid no heed. - -He whirled the crystal goblet round his head, spilling some of the -contents over the girl, who shrank from it, as from an evil omen. The -purple Chianti looked like blood on her white skin. - -"To Theodora!" shouted the drunken youth, as all except Benilo raised -their goblets to join in the toast. "To Theodora, the Wanton Queen, -whose eyes are aglow with hell's hot fire, whose scarlet lips would kiss -the fiend, whose splendid arms would embrace the devil, were he passing -fair to look upon!" - -He came no further. - -"May lightning strike you in your tracks!" Benilo howled, insane with -long suppressed rage, as he hurled a heavy decanter he had snatched from -the board, at the head of the offender. - -A shrill outcry, dying away into a moan, then into silence, the crash of -broken flagons, a lifeless form gliding from his paralyzed arms to the -floor, roused Roffredo to the reality of what had happened. The heavy -decanter having missed its aim, had struck the girl Nelida squarely in -the forehead, and the dark stream of blood which flowed over her eyes, -her face, her neck, down her arms, her airy gown, mingled with the -purple wine from the Patrician's spilled goblet. - -It was a ghastly sight. In an instant pandemonium reigned in the hall. -The painted women shrieked and rushed for safety behind columns and -divans, leaving the men to care for the dying girl, whom Bembo and -Oliverotto tenderly lifted to a divan, where the former bandaged the -terribly gashed head. - -While he did so the poor dancing girl breathed her last. - -The awful sight had effectually sobered Benilo. For a moment the -drunken noble stared as one petrified on the deed he had wrought, then -the sharp blade of his poniard hissed from its scabbard and with a half -smothered outcry of fury he flew at Roffredo's throat. - -"This is your deed, you lying cur!" he snarled into the trembling -youth's face, whom the catastrophe had completely unnerved and changed -into a blanched coward. "Retract your lying boast or I'll send you to -hell ere you can utter a Pater-Noster!" - -With the unbounded fury of a maniac who has broken his chains and -against whose rage no mortal strength may cope, Benilo brought Roffredo -down on the floor, where he knelt on his breast, holding his throat in a -vice-like grip, which choked any words the prostrate youth might -endeavour to speak. - -The terror of the deed, which had cast its pall over the merry -revellers, and the suddenness of the attack on Roffredo had so -completely paralyzed those present, that none came to the rescue of the -prostrate man, who vainly struggled to extricate himself from his -opponent's clutches. His eyes ablaze with rage, Benilo had set the -point of his dagger against the chest of his victim, whom now no power -on earth seemed able to save, as his cowardly associates made no effort -to stay the Chamberlain's hand. - -He who had seen Benilo, in the palace on the Aventine, composing an ode -in the hall of audience, would have been staggered at the complete -transformation from a diplomatic courtier to a fiend incarnate, his -usually sedate features distorted with mad passion and rage. A -half-choked outcry of brute fear and despair failed to bring any one to -the prostrate boaster's aid, most of those present, including the women, -thronging round the dead girl Nelida, and Roffredo's fate seemed sealed. -But at that moment, something happened to stay Benilo's uplifted hand. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *THE WAGER* - - -At the moment when Benilo had raised his poniard, to drive it through -his opponent's heart, the diaphanous curtains dividing the great hall -from the rest of the buildings were flung aside and in the entrance -there appeared a woman like some fierce and majestic fury, who at a -moment's glance took in the whole scene and its import. Her manner was -that of a queen, of a queen who was wont to bend all men to her -slightest caprice. Every eye in the large hall was bent upon her and -every soul felt a thrill of wonder and admiration. The ivory pallor of -her face was enhanced by the dark gloss of her raven hair. The -slumbrous starry eyes were meant to hold the memories of a thousand -love-thoughts. A dim suffused radiance seemed to hover like an aureole -above her dazzling white brow, crowning the perfect oval of her face, -adorned with a clustering wealth of raven-black tresses. She was arrayed -in a black, silk-embroidered diaphanous robe, the most sumptuous the art -of the Orient could supply. Of softest texture, it revealed the -matchless contours of her form and arms, of her regal throat, -heightening by the contrast the ivory sheen of her satin-skin. - -But those eyes which, when kindled with the fires of love, might have -set marble aflame, were blazing with the torches of wrath, as looking -round the hall, she darted a swift inquiring glance at the chief -offenders, one of whom could not have spoken had he wished to, for -Benilo was fairly strangling him. - -The rest of the company had instinctively turned their faces towards the -Queen of the Groves, endeavouring at the same time to hide the sight of -the dead girl from her eyes by closely surrounding the couch, with their -backs to the victim. But their consternation as well as the very act -betrayed them. From the struggling men on the floor, Theodora's gaze -turned to the affrighted company and she half guessed the truth. -Advancing towards her guests, she pushed their unresisting forms aside, -raised the cover from the dead girl with the bloody bandage over the -still white face, bent over it quickly to kiss the dark, silken hair, -then she demanded an account of the deed. One of the women reported in -brief and concise terms what had happened before she arrived. At the -sight of this flower, broken and destroyed, Theodora's anger seemed for -a moment to subside, like a trampled spark, before a great pity that -rose in her heart. In an instant the whole company rushed upon her with -excited gestures and before the Babel of jabbering tongues, each -striving to tell his or her story in a voice above the rest, the Fury -returned. - -Theodora stamped her foot and commanded silence. At the sight of the -woman, Benilo's arms had fallen powerlessly by his side and Roffredo, -taking advantage of an unwatched moment, had pushed the Chamberlain off -and staggered to his feet. - -"Whose deed is this?" Theodora demanded, holding aloft the covering of -the couch. - -"It was my accursed luck! The decanter was intended for this lying cur, -whose black heart I will wrench out of his body!" - -And Benilo pointed to the shrinking form of Roffredo. - -"What had he done?" - -"He had insulted you!" - -"That proves his courage!" she replied with a withering glance of -contempt. - -Then she beckoned to the attendants. - -"Have the girl removed and summon the Greek--though I fear it is too -late." - -There was a ring of regret in her tones. It vanished as quickly as it -had come. - -The body of Nelida, the dancing girl, was carried away and the guests -resumed their seats. Roxané had reluctantly abandoned her usurped place -of honour. A quick flash, a silent challenge passed between the two -women, as Theodora took her accustomed seat. - -"A glass of wine!" she commanded imperiously, and Roffredo, reassured, -rushed to the nearest attendant, took a goblet from the salver and -presented it to the Queen of the Groves. - -"Ah! Thanks, Roffredo! So it was you who insulted me in my absence?" -she said with an undertone of irony in her voice, which had the rich -sound of a deep-toned bell. - -"I said you would embrace the devil, did he but appear in presentable -countenance!" Roffredo replied contritely, but with a vicious side -glance at Benilo. - -An ominous smile curved Theodora's crimson lips. - -"The risk would be slight, since I have kept company with each of you," -she replied. "And our virtuous Benilo took up the gauntlet?" - -Her low voice was soft and purring, yet laden with the poison sting of -irony, as through half-closed lids she glanced towards the Chamberlain, -who sat apart in moody silence like a spectre at the feast. - -Benilo scented danger in her tone and answered cautiously: - -"Only a coward will hear the woman he loves reviled with impunity." - -Theodora bowed with mock courtesy. - -"If you wish to honour me with this confession, I care as little for the -one as the other. From your temper I judge some innocent dove had -escaped your vulture's talons." - -Benilo met the challenge in her smouldering look and answered with -assumed indifference: - -"Your spies have misinformed you! But I am in no mood to constitute the -target of your jests!" - -"There is but one will which rules these halls," Theodora flashed out. -"If obedience to its mandates is distasteful to you, the gates are -open--spread your pinions and fly away!" - -She flung back her head and their eyes met. - -Benilo turned away, uttering a terrible curse between his clenched -teeth. - -There was a deep hush in the hall, as if the spirit of the dead girl was -haunting the guests. The harps played a plaintive melody, which might -indeed have stolen from some hearth of ashes, when stirred by the breath -of its smouldering spark, like phantom-memories from another world, that -seemed to call to Theodora's inner consciousness, each note a foot-step, -leading her away beyond the glint and glitter of the world that -surrounded her, to a garden of purity and peace in the dim, -long-forgotten past. Theodora sat in a reverie, her strange eyes fixed -on nothingness, her red lips parted, disclosing two rows of teeth, -small, even, pearly, while her full, white bosom rose and fell with -quickened respiration. - -"The Queen of the Groves is in a pensive mood to-night," sneered the -Lord of Bracciano, who had been engaged in mentally weighing her charms -against those of Roxané. - -Theodora sighed. - -"I may well be pensive, for I have seen to-day, what I had despaired of -ever again beholding in Rome--can you guess what it is?" - -Shouts of laughter broke, a jarring discord, harshly upon her speech. - -"We are perishing with curiosity," shouted, as with one voice, the -debauched nobles and their feminine companions. - -"In the name of pity, save our lives!" begged a girl nearest to -Theodora's seat. - -"Can you guess?" the Queen of the Groves repeated simply, as she gazed -round the assembly. - -All sorts of strange answers were hurled at the throne of the Queen of -the Groves. She heeded them not. Perhaps she did not even hear them. - -At last she raised her head. - -Without commenting on the guesses of her guests, she said: - -"I have seen in Rome to-day--a man!" - -Benilo squirmed. The rest of the guests laughed harshly and Bembo, the -Poet asked with a vapid grin: - -"And is the sight so wondrous that the Queen of Love sits dreaming among -her admirers like a Sphinx in the African desert?" - -"Had he horns?" shouted the Lord of Bracciano. - -"Or a cloven hoof?" cried Oliverotto. - -"What was he like?" sneered a third. - -Theodora turned upon her questioners, a dash of scorn in her barbed -reply. - -"I speak of a man, not reptiles like you--you all!" - -"Mercy, oh queen, mercy!" begged the apoplectic poet, amid the noisy -clamour of his jeering companions. But heedless of their jabbering -tongues Theodora continued earnestly: - -"Not such men as the barons of Rome are pleased to call themselves, -cowardly, vicious,--beasts, who believe not in God nor the devil, and -whose aim in life is but to clothe their filthy carcass in gaudy apparel -and appease the cravings of their lust and their greed! I speak of a -man, something the meaning of which is as dark to you as the riddle of -the Sphinx." - -The company gazed at each other in mute bewilderment. - -Theodora was indeed in a most singular mood. - -"Are we not at the Court of Theodora?" shouted the Lord of Bracciano, -who was experiencing some inconvenience in the feat of embracing with -his short arms the two women between whom he was seated. "Or has some -sudden magic transported us to the hermitage of the mad monk, who -predicts the End of Time?" - -"Nay," Benilo spoke up for the first time since Theodora's rebuke had -silenced him, "perhaps our beautiful Queen of Love has in store for her -guests just such a riddle as the one the Sphinx proposed to the son of -Iokasté--with but a slight variation." - -The illiterate high-born rabble of Rome did not catch the drift of the -Patrician's speech, but the pallor on Theodora's cheeks deepened. - -Roxané alone turned to the speaker. - -"And the simile?" she asked in her sweet siren-voice, tremulous with the -desire to clash with her more beautiful rival. - -Benilo shrugged his shoulders, but he winced under Theodora's deadly -gaze. - -"The simile?" he replied with a jarring laugh. "It is this, that incest -and adultery are as old as the Athenian asses, that never died, and that -the Sphinx eventually drowned herself in the Aegean Sea." - -Theodora made no reply, but relapsed into her former state of -thoughtfulness. As she turned from Benilo, her eyes met those of -Roxané, and again the two women flashed defiance at each other. - -Again the laughter of the revellers rose, louder than before. - -"By the Cross," shouted the poet, "the Queen of Love will take the -veil." - -"Has she chosen the convent, whose nuns she will cause to be canonized -by her exemplary life and glorious example," jeered Roxané. - -"We shall sing a thousand Aves and buy tapers as large as her -unimpeached virtue!" cried another of the women. - -"I fear one nunnery is damned from chapel to refectory," growled Benilo, -keeping his eyes on the floor, as if fearful of meeting those he -instinctively felt burning upon him. - -"Silence!" cried Theodora at last, stamping her foot on the floor, while -a glow of hot resentment flushed her cheeks. "Your merriment and clamour -only draws the sharper line between you and that other, of whom I -spoke." - -Roffredo looked up with a smile of indolence. - -"And who is the demi-god?" he drawled lazily. - -She measured him with undisguised scorn and contempt. - -"The name! The story!" bellowed several individuals, raising their -goblets and half spilling their contents in their besotten mood. - -In a strange voice, melodious as the sound of Æolian harps when the -night wind passes over their strings, amid profound silence Theodora -related to her assembled guests the incident of the runaway steeds in -which she had so prominently figured, the chariot having been her -own,--the occupant herself. She omitted not a detail of the stranger's -heroic deed, passing from her own thrilling experience to Vitelozzo's -assault upon one of the New Vestals, and his discomfiture at the hand of -him who had saved her life. - -"And while your Roman scum hissed and hooted and raised not a finger in -the girl's defence, her rescuer alone braved Vitelozzo's fury--I saw him -whisper something into the ruffian's ear and the mighty lord skulked -away like a frightened cur. By heaven, I have seen a man!" the Queen of -the Groves concluded ecstatically, disdaining to dwell on her own -rescue. - -For a lingering moment there hovered silence on the assembly. Gradually -it gave way to a flutter of questions. - -"Who is he?" queried one. - -"What is he like?" shouted another. - -Theodora did not heed the questions. Only her lovely face, framed by -hair dark as the darkest midnight, had grown a shade more pale and -pensive. - -Suddenly she turned to the last questioner, a woman. - -"What was he like?" she replied. "Tall, and in the prime of manhood; -his face concealed by his vizor." - -The woman sighed amorously. The men nodded to each other with meaning -glances. The danger of the convent seemed passed. - -Benilo, who during Theodora's narrative had proven an ideal listener, of -a sudden clenched his fist and gazed round for the harper, who sat in a -remote corner of the hall. - -Another moment's musing, then the Chamberlain ground his teeth together -with the fierce determination to carry out at all hazards, what he had -resolved in his mind. Theodora herself was playing into his hands. - -"Do you know this incomparable hero, this modern Theseus?" he drawled -out slowly and with deliberate impudence, addressing the Queen of the -Groves. - -Theodora's gaze was sharp as steel. - -"What is it to you?" she hissed. - -Benilo shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. - -"Nothing whatever! I also know him!" - -There was something in his tone, which struck the ever-watchful ear of -Theodora like a danger-knell. - -"You know him?" echoed a chorus of voices from every part of the great -hall. - -He waved back the eager questioners. - -"I know him!" he declared emphatically, then he was silent. - -Theodora seemed to have grown nervous. - -"Are you serious?" - -"Never more so!" Benilo replied, with a slight peculiar hardening of the -lips. - -"Is he a Roman?" cried a voice. - -"All Romans according to our fair Queen's judgment, are curs and -degenerates," Benilo drawled insultingly. - -Theodora nodded. - -"Even so," she replied coldly. - -"This demi-god, however, is also slightly known to you," the Chamberlain -continued, now fairly facing the Queen of Love, "even though he has not -yet found his way to your bowers." - -Theodora winced. - -"Why do you taunt me?" she flashed back angrily. - -Benilo heeded her not. Instead of replying, he addressed himself to the -company, speaking in a dry, half-bantering tone, while Theodora watched -him like a tigress. - -"Once upon a time, the Queen of Love boasted that mortal man did not -breathe who would resist her charms. Now there is at this hour one man -here in Rome, whom even the matchless Theodora dare not summon to her -circle, one man before whose 'No' her vain-glorious boast would break -like a bubble, one man whose soul she may not sap and send to hell! And -this one man is even the hero of her dreams, her rescuer,--the rescuer -of a maiden of spotless virtue, the vanquisher of a giant! Do I speak -truth, divine Theodora?" - -Those who watched the expression on the face of the Queen of the Groves -marvelled alike at Benilo's audacity and the startling absence of a -passionate outburst on the part of the woman. And though the blood -seethed through Theodora's veins, the sudden change of front on Benilo's -part seemed to stagger her for a moment. It was a novel sensation to -see the man who had heretofore been like clay in the moulder's hands now -daring to flout her openly and to hold up her wounded pride as a target -for the jests of those present. It was a novel sensation, to find -herself publicly berated, but the shaft sank deep. Theodora's eyes -flashed scorn and there was something cruel in her glances. Benilo felt -its sting like a whiplash. His nerves quivered and he breathed hard. -But he had gone too far to recede. His spirit had risen in arms against -the disdain of the woman he loved,--loved with a passion that seemed to -have slept in a tomb for ages and suddenly gathered new strength, like a -fire kindled anew over dead ashes. - -Acting on a sudden impulse, he raised his head and looked at her with a -fearlessness which for the moment appeared to startle her -self-possession, for a deep flush coloured the fairness of her face and, -fading, left it pale as marble. Still Theodora did not speak and the -breathless silence which had succeeded Benilo's last taunt resembled the -ominous hush of the heated atmosphere before a thunder-clap. No one -dared speak and the Chamberlain, apparently struck by the sudden -stillness, looked round from the tumbled cushions where he reclined. - -"You do not answer my question, fair Theodora," he spoke at last, an -undertone of mockery ringing through his speech. "I grant you power -over some weak fools," and Benilo glanced round the assembly, little -caring for the mutter which his words raised, "but you will at least -admit that there is one man in Rome at this very hour, on whom all your -charms and blandishments would be wasted as a caress on cold marble." - -Another deep and death-like pause ensued; then Theodora's silvery cold -tones smote the profound silence with sharp retort, as goaded at last -beyond forbearance by his scoffing tone she sprang to her feet. - -"There is not a man in Rome," she hissed into Benilo's face, "not in -Italy, not in all the world, whom I could not bend to the force of my -will. Where I choose, I conquer!" - -A sardonic laugh broke from Benilo's lips. - -"And by what means?" - -"Benilo," she flashed forth in withering contempt, "I know not what your -object is in taunting me--and I care not--but by Lucifer, you go too -far! Name to me a man in Rome, name whom you will, and if I fail to win -him in one month--" - -"What then?" - -For a moment she hesitated. - -"Name the wager yourself!" - -An ominous smile curved Benilo's lips. - -"All the wealth I possess against you--as my wife!" - -She laughed scornfully and shuddered, but did not reply. - -"Are you afraid?" he cried, tauntingly. - -"What a fate!" she replied with trepidation in her tone. "But I accept -it, even it!" - -She turned her back on him after a look of such withering contempt as -one might cast on some reptile, and took her former seat, when again she -was startled by his voice. Its mock caressing tones caused her to -clench her firm white hands and bend forward as if tempted to strangle -the viper, that had dared to place its glittering coils in her path. - -"It now remains but to name the champion, just to prevent the wrong bird -from fluttering into the nest," said Benilo, addressing the company. - -"The champion! The champion!" they shouted, breathing more freely, -since the expected lightning did not strike. - -"Fill the goblets!" Benilo exclaimed, and in a moment the wine was -poured, the guests arose and gathered round the central figures. - -Benilo raised his goblet and turned to Theodora, wincing under her look -of contempt. - -"The champion is to be my choice and to be accepted unconditionally?" he -questioned. - -"Not so!" she flashed forth, half rising from her seat, her eyes flaming -with wrath. "I would not have my words distorted by so foul a thing as -you! It is to be the rescuer of the girl, he before whom the lord -Vitelozzo slunk away like a whipped cur! You have taunted me with my -lack of power face to face with that one--and that one alone, the only -man among a crowd of curs!" - -Benilo paused, then he said with a hard, cold smile: - -"Agreed!" And he placed the goblet to his lips. The guests did -likewise and drank the singular toast, as if it had not implied a -glaring insult to each present, including the one who reëchoed it. - -"And now for his name!" Benilo continued. "Just to prevent a -mischance." - -The irony of his words and the implied insult cut Theodora to the quick. -With hands tightly clenched as If she would strangle her tormentor, she -sprang to her feet. - -"I object!" she gasped, almost choked with rage, while her startled -listeners seemed to lack even voice to vent their curiosity before this -new and unexpected outburst. - -"I appeal to the company assembled, who has witnessed the wager between -the Queen of Love and her faithful and obedient lover," Benilo sneered, -looking round among the guests. "How know we, what is concealed under a -vizor, beneath a rusty suit of armour? Security lies but in the name of -the unconscious victim of Theodora's magic, is it not so?" - -The smile on the Chamberlain's countenance caused him to appear more -repulsive than his former expression of wildest rage. But, prompted by -an invincible curiosity, the guests unanimously assented. - -"Be it so!" gasped Theodora, sinking back in her seat. "I care not." - -Benilo watched her closely, and as he did so he almost repented of his -hasty wager. Just at that moment his gaze met that of the harper, who -stood like some dark phantom behind the throne of the Queen of the -Groves, and the Chamberlain stifled the misgivings, which had risen -within him. And though smiling in anticipation of the blow he was about -to deliver, a blow which should prove the sweetest balm for the misery -she had caused him by her disdain, he still wavered, as if to torment -her to the extremest limits. Then, with a voice audible in the remotest -parts of the great hall, he spoke, his eye in that of Theodora, slowly -emphasizing each title and name: - -"Margrave Eckhardt of Meissen, Commander-in-chief of the German hosts!" - -There was the silence of death in the hall. - -For a moment Theodora stared fixed and immobile as a marble statue, her -face pale as death, while a thin stream of purple wine, spilled from her -trembling goblet, trickled down her white, uplifted arm. Then she -rushed upon him, and knocking the goblet out of his hand, causing it to -fall with a splintering crash at Benilo's feet, she shrieked till the -very walls re-echoed the words: - -"You lie! You lie!" - -Benilo crossed his arms over his chest, and, looking squarely into the -woman's eyes, he repeated in the same accents of defiance: - -"Margrave Eckhardt of Meissen, Commander-in-chief of the German hosts." - -"Again I tell you you lie! You lie!" shrieked the woman, now almost -beside herself. "Is there no one among all this scum here assembled, to -chastise this viper? Hear me!" she cried as, affrighted, the guests -shrank back from her blazing eyes and panting breath, while with all the -superhuman beauty of a second Medusa she stood among them, and if her -gaze could have killed, none would have survived the hour. "Hear me! -Benilo has lied to you, as time and again he has lied to me! He, of -whom he speaks, is dead,--has died--long ago!" - -Benilo breathed hard. "Then he has arisen from the dead and returned to -earth,--to Rome--" he spoke with biting irony in his tones. "A strange -hereditary disease affecting the members of his house." - -When he saw the deadly pallor which covered the woman's face, and the -terror reflected in her eyes, Benilo continued: - -"And deem you in all truth, O sagacious Theodora, that a word from the -lips of any other man would have caused Vitelozzo to release his prey? -Deem you not in your undoubted wisdom that it required a reason, even -weightier than the blow of a gauntleted hand, to accomplish this -marvellous feat? And,--since you are dumb in the face of these -arguments,--will you not enlighten us all why Theodora, the beautiful, -the chaste, would deprive him of the plume, to whom it rightfully -belongs,--the German commander, Margrave Eckhardt of Meissen, who risked -his life to save that of our beautiful queen?" - -Theodora turned upon her tormenter like an animal at bay. - -"I have heard enough! I will not! The wager is off!" - -And rising she prepared to leave the hall without another word. - -It would have been difficult for the most profound physiognomist to -analyze Benilo's feelings, when he saw his purpose, his revenge, foiled. -Looking up he met the enigmatic gaze of the harper resting upon him with -a strange mixture of derision and disdain. - -"Stay!" Benilo cried to Theodora as she grasped the curtain in the act -of pushing it aside. He knew if she passed beyond it, he had lost -beyond retrieve. But she paused and turned, mute inquiry and defiance -in her look. - -"The Queen of the Groves has made a wager before you all," the -Chamberlain shouted, lashing himself into the rage needful to make him -carry out his design unflinchingly. "After being informed of the person -of the champion she has repudiated it! The reasons are plain,--the -champion is beyond her reach! The Queen of the Groves is too politic to -play a losing game, especially when she knows that she is sure to lose! -The charms of our Goddess are great, but alas! There is one man in Rome -whom she dare not challenge!" - -He paused to study the effect of his words upon her. - -She regarded him with her icy stare. - -"It is not a question of power--but of my will!" - -"So be it!" retorted Benilo. "But since the Queen of Love has refused -my wager for reasons no doubt good and efficient, perhaps there is in -this company one less pure, one less scrupulous, one of beauty as great, -who might win, where Theodora shuns the risk! Will you take up the -gauntlet, fair Roxané, and lure to the Groves, Eckhardt, the general?" - -"Benilo--beware!" - -Shrill, sharp like breaking glass, like the cry of a wounded animal -maddened with rage and agony, the outcry seemed wrenched from Theodora's -white, drawn lips. Her large, splendid eyes flashed unutterable scorn -upon the Chamberlain and her lithe form swayed and crouched as that of a -tigress about to spring. - -"Will Roxané take the wager?" Benilo repeated defiantly. - -The anticipation of the on-coming contest caused Roxané's cheek to -blanch. But not to be thought deficient in courage, to meet her rival, -she replied: - -"Since the Queen of the Groves shuns the test, perhaps I might succeed, -where--" - -She did not finish the sentence. - -Like a lightning flash Theodora turned from the man, who had roused her -ire, to the woman who had stung her pride with ill-veiled mockery, and -while she slowly crept towards her opponent, her low voice, tremulous -with scorn, stung as a needle would the naked flesh. - -"And do you dream that Eckhardt of Meissen has aught to fear from you, -fair Roxané? Deem you, that the proud Roxané with all her charms, could -cause the general of the German host to make one step against his will?" - -For a moment the two women stood face to face, measuring each other with -deadly looks. - -"And what if I would?" flashed Roxané. - -Two white hands slowly but firmly encircled her throat. - -"I would strangle you!" hissed Theodora, her face deadly pale. - -Roxané's cheeks too had lost their colour. She knew her opponent and -she instinctively felt she had reached the limit. She gave a little -nervous laugh as she drew Theodora's reluctant hands from the marble -whiteness of her throat, where their touch had left a rosy imprint. - -"I do not wish your Saxon bear," she said. "If you can tame him, we -come to his skin!" - -"By Lucifer!" replied the Queen of the Groves, "did I but choose to, I -would make him forget heaven and hell and bring him to my feet!" - -"How dramatic!" sneered Benilo. "Words are air! We want proofs!" - -She whirled upon him. - -"And what will become of the snake, when the hunter appears?" - -Benilo paled. For a moment his arrogance deserted him. Then he said -with an ominous scowl: - -"Let the hunter beware!" - -She regarded him with icy contempt. Then she turned to the revellers. - -"Since Benilo has dared to cross swords with me," she cried, "though I -despise him and all of you, I accept the challenge, if there is one in -this company who will confirm that it was Eckhardt who discomfited -Vitelozzo." - -From the background of the hall, where he had sat a silent listener, -there came forward an individual in the gaudy attire of a Roman -nobleman. He was robust and above the middle height, and the lineaments -of his coarse face betrayed predominance of brute instincts over every -nobler sentiment. - -"Vitelozzo! Vitelozzo!" the guests shouted half amazed, half amused. - -The robber-baron nodded as he faced Theodora on the edge of the circle. - -"I have listened to your discourse," he snarled curtly. "For your -opinions I care not. And as for the skullion to whom I gave in,--out of -sheer good will,--ha, ha!--may the devil pull the boots from his -legs!--'twas no meaner a person than he, at whose cradle the fiend stood -sponsor, Eckhardt--the general--but I will yet have the girl, I'll have -her yet!" - -And with a vigorous nod Vitelozzo took up a brimming decanter and -transported himself into the background whence he had arisen. - -His word had decided the question. - -For a moment there was an intense hush. Then Theodora spoke: - -"Eckhardt of Meissen, the commander of the German hosts, shall come to -my court! He shall be as one of yourselves, a whimpering slave to my -evil beauty! I will it,--and so it shall be!" - -For a moment she glanced at Benilo and the blood froze in his veins. -Heaven and earth would he have given now to have recalled the fateful -challenge. But it was too late. For a time he trembled like an aspen. -No one knew what he had read in Theodora's Medusa-like face. - -Some of the revellers, believing the great tension relieved, now pushed -eagerly forward, surrounding the Queen of the Groves and plying her with -questions. They were all eager to witness a triumph so difficult to -achieve, as they imagined, that even Theodora, though conscious of her -invincible charms, had winced at the task. - -But the Queen of Love seemed to have exchanged the attributes of her -trade for those of a Fury, for she turned upon them like an animal -wounded to death, that sees the hounds upon its track and cannot escape. - -"Back! All of you!" she hissed, raising her arms and sweeping them -aside. "What is it after all? Is he not a man, like--no! Not like -you, not like you!--Why should I care for him?--Perhaps he has wife and -child at home:--the devils will laugh the louder!" - -She paused a moment, drawing a deep breath. Then she slowly turned -towards the cringing Chamberlain. Her voice was slow and distinct and -every word struck him as the blow from a whip. - -"I accept your wager," she said, "and I warn you that I will win! Win, -with all the world, with all your villainy, with the Devil himself -against me. Eckhardt shall come to the Groves! But," she continued -with terrible distinctness, "if aught befall him, ere we have stood face -to face, I shall know the hand that struck the blow, were it covered by -the deepest midnight that ever blushed at your foulness, and by the -devil,--I will avenge it!" - -After these words Theodora faced those assembled with her splendid -height in all the glory of her beauty. Another moment she was gone. - -For a time deep silence succeeded. - -Never had such a scene been witnessed in the Groves. Never had the Queen -of Love shown herself in so terrible a mood. Never had mortal dared to -brave her anger, to challenge her wrath. Truly, the end of time must be -nigh when her worshippers would dare defy the Goddess of the Shrine. - -But after Theodora had disappeared, the strain gradually relaxed and -soon wore away entirely. With all, save Benilo. His calm outward -demeanour concealed only with an effort his terrible apprehensions, as -he mixed freely, to divert suspicion, with the revellers. These thought -the moments too precious to waste with idle speculations and soon the -orgy roared anew through the great hall. - -Benilo alone had retreated to its extreme end, where he allowed himself -to drop into a divan, which had just been deserted by a couple, who had -been swept away by the whirling Bacchanale. Here he sat for some time, -his face buried in his hands, when looking up suddenly he found himself -face to face with Hezilo. - -"I have done it," he muttered, "and I fear I have gone too far!" - -He paused, scanning the harper's face for approval. Its expression he -could not see, but there was no shade of reproof in the voice which -answered: - -"At best you have but erred in the means." - -"I wished to break her pride, to humble her, and now the tables are -turned; it is I, who am grovelling in the dust." - -"No woman was by such means ever wooed or won," the harper replied after -a brief pause. "Theodora will win the wager. But whether she win or -lose, she will despise you for ever more!" - -Benilo pressed his hands against his burning temples. - -"My heart is on fire! The woman maddens me with her devilish charms, -until I am on the verge of delirium." - -"You have been too pliant! You have become her slave! Her foot is on -your neck! You have lost yourself! Better a monstrous villain, than a -simpering idiot, who whines love-ditties under his lady's bower and -bellows his shame to the enduring stars! Dare to be a man,--despite -yourself!" - -So absorbed was Benilo in his own thoughts, that the biting irony of the -other's speech was lost upon him. - -He extended his hand to his strange counsellor. - -"It shall be as you say: The Rubicon is passed. I have no choice." - -The stranger nodded, but he did not touch the proffered hand. - -At last the Chamberlain rose to leave the hall. - -The sounds of lutes and harps quivered through the Groves of Theodora; -flutes and cymbals, sistrum and tympani mingled their harmonies with the -tempest of sound that hovered over the great orgy, which was now at its -height. The banquet-hall whirled round him like a vast architectural -nightmare. Through the dizzy glare he beheld perspectives and seemingly -endless colonnades. Everything sparkled, glittered, and beamed in the -light of prismatic irises, that crossed and shattered each other in the -air. Viewed through that burning haze even the inanimate objects seemed -to have waked to some fantastic representation of life.--But through it -all he saw one face, supremely fair in its marble cold disdain,--and -unable to endure the sight longer Benilo the Chamberlain rushed out into -the open. - -In the distance resounded the chant of pilgrims traversing the city and -imploring the mercy and clemency of heaven. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *JOHN OF THE CATACOMBS* - - -Once outside of the pavillion, Benilo uttered a sigh of relief. He had -resolved to act without delay. Ere dawn he would be assured that he -held in his grasp the threads of the web. There was no time to be lost. -Onward he hurried, the phantom of the murdered girl floating before his -eyes in a purple haze. - -While bearing himself ostensibly in the character of a mere man of -pleasure, Benilo the Chamberlain lost no opportunity of ingratiating -himself with the many desperate spirits who were to be found in the city -ready and willing to assist at any enterprise, which should tend to -complicate the machine of government. While he rushed into every -extravagance and pleasure, surpassing the companions of his own rank in -his orgies, he suffered no symptoms of a deeper feeling to escape him, -than that of excellence in trifling, the wine cup, the pageant, the -passing show. It may have been a strain of mongrel blood, filtering -through his veins, which tempered his endurance with the pliancy -essential to intrigue, a strain that was apparent in the sculptured -regularity of his features. His movements had the pliant ease, the -stealthy freedom of the tiger. Had he been caught like Milo, he would -have writhed himself out of the trap with the sinuous persistency of the -snake. There was something snake-like in the small, glittering eyes, -the clear smoothness of the skin. With all its brightness no woman -worthy of the name but would have winced with womanly instincts of -aversion and repugnance from his glances. With all its beauty, none, -save Otto alone, had ever looked confidingly into his face. Men turned -indeed to scan him approvingly as he passed, but they owned no sympathy -with the smooth, set brow, the ever present smile in the lips of Benilo -the Chamberlain. - -After deliberating upon the course he was about to pursue Benilo -approached the shores of the Tiber. Under the cypress avenues it was -dark, and the air came up chill and damp from the stream. A sombre blue -over-arched the labyrinth of pillars and ruins, of friezes and statues, -of groves and glades which lay dreaming in the pale light of the moon. -No other light, save the moist glimmer of the stars whose mist-veiled -brightness heralded the approach of a tempest, fell on the chaos of -undefined forms. Utter solitude, utter silence prevailed. More and more -Benilo lost himself in the wilderness of this ill-favoured region. - -The shortest way to the haunts of John of the Catacombs, of whom he was -in immediate search, lay across the ancient Alta Semita, where now the -Via di Porta Pia winds round the Quirinal hill. But for reasons of his -own the Chamberlain chose to make a detour, preferring streets whose -deserted character would not be likely to bring him into contact with -some unwelcome, nocturnal rambler. Wrapping himself more closely in his -cloak and looking cautiously about, he hastened along the North Western -declivity of the Quirinal hill, until he reached the remains of a wall -built, so tradition has it, by Servius Tullius. This quarter had ever -since the time of the emperors enjoyed the worst reputation in all Rome. -The streets were tortuous, the houses, squalid, the whole surroundings -evil. Benilo moved cautiously along the wall, for a few drinking shops -were still open and frequented by a motley throng, with whom it was not -safe to mingle, for to provoke a brawl, might engender grave -consequences. Wretched women plied their shameful trade by the light of -flickering clay-lamps; and watery-eyed hags, the outcasts of all -nations, mingled with sailors, bandits and bravi. Drunken men lay -snoring under tables and coarse songs were shouted from hoarse throats, -half drowned by the uproarious clamour of two fellows who were playing -at dice. Suddenly there was a commotion followed by piercing shrieks. -The gamblers had fallen out over their pretty stakes. After a short -squabble one had drawn his knife on the other and stabbed him in the -side. The wounded man fell howling on the ground and the assassin took -to his heels. The dancers of the establishment, heedless of the -catastrophe, began at once to rattle their castagnettes and sway and -whirl in disgraceful pantomime. - -After Benilo had passed the shameful den and reached the end of the -alley he found himself once more in one of the waste regions of the -city. Truly many an emperor was more easily discovered than John of the -Catacombs. The region had the appearance as if an earthquake had -shattered into dust the splendid temples and porticoes of antiquity, so -great was the destruction, which confronted him on every turn. High in -the air could be heard the hoarse cry of the vulture, wheeling home from -some feast of carnage; in the near-by marshes the croaking of the frogs -alternated with the dismal cry of the whippoorwill. - -Suddenly the Chamberlain paused and for a moment even his stout heart -stopped beating, and his face turned a ghastly pallor. For directly -before him there arose out of the underbrush, with back apparently -turned towards him, some formless apparition in the dark habit of a -monk, the cowl drawn over his head. But when he attained his natural -height, he faced Benilo, although the latter would have sworn that he -did not see him turn. - -It was with some degree of fascination that Benilo watched the person -and the movements of this human monster. What appeared of his head from -under the cowl seemed to have become green with cadaverous tints. One -might say that the mustiness of the sepulchre already covered the bluish -down of his skin. His eyes, with their strong gaze sparkled from -beneath a large yellowish bruise, and his drooping jaws were joined to -the skin by two lines as straight as the lines of a triangle. The -bravo's trembling hands, the colour of yellow wax, were only a net-work -of veins and nerves. His sleeves fluttered on his fleshless arms like a -streamer on a pole. His robe fell from his shoulders to his heels -perfectly straight without a single fold, as rigid as the drapery in the -later pictures of Cimabue or Orcagna. There appeared to be nothing but -a shadow under the brown cowl and out of that shadow stared two stony -eyes. John of the Catacombs looked like a corpse returned to earth, to -write his memoirs. - -At the sight of the individual, reputed the greatest scourge in Rome, -the Chamberlain could not repress a shudder, and his right hand sought -mechanically the hilt of his poniard. - -"Why--thou art a merry dog in thy friar's cowl, Don Giovan, though it -will hardly save thee from the gallows," exclaimed Benilo, approaching -slowly. "Since when dost affect monastic manners?" - -"Since the fiend is weary of saints, their cowls go begging," a harsh -grating voice replied, while a hideous sneer lit up the almost fleshless -skull of the bravo, as with his turbid yellow eyes, resembling those of -a dead fish, he stared in Benilo's face. - -"And for all that," the denisen of the ruins continued, watching from -under inflamed eyelids the effect his person produced on his Maecenas, -"and for all that I shall make as good a saint as was ever catalogued in -your martyrology." - -"The fiend for aught might make the same," replied Benilo. "What is your -business here?" - -"Watching over dead men's bones," replied the bravo doggedly. - -"Never lie to the devil,--you will neither deceive him nor me! Not that -I dispute any man's right to be hanged or stabbed--least of all thine, -Don Giovan." - -"'Tis for another to regulate all such honours," replied the bravo. -"And it is an old saying, never trust a horse or a woman!" - -Benilo started as if the bravo had read his thoughts. - -"You prate in enigmas," he said after a pause. "I will be brief with -you and plain. We should not scratch, when we tickle. I am looking for -an honest rogue. I need a trusty and discreet varlet, who can keep his -tongue between his teeth and forget not only his master's name, but his -own likewise. Have you the quality?" - -John of the Catacombs stared at the speaker as if at a loss to -comprehend his meaning. Instead of answering he glanced uneasily in the -direction of the river. - -"Speak out, man, my time is brief," urged the Chamberlain, "I have -learned to value your services even in the harm you have wrought, and if -you will enter my service, you shall some day hang the keys of a nobler -tower on your girdle than you ever dreamt of." - -The bravo winced, but did not reply. Suddenly he raised his head as if -listening. A sound resembling the faint splash of an oar broke the -stillness. A yell vibrated through the air, a louder splash was heard, -then all was deep silence as before. - -"That sounded not like the prayer of a Christian soul departing," Benilo -said with an involuntary shudder, noting the grin of satisfaction which -passed over the outlaw's face. "What was that?" - -"Of my evil brother an evil instrument," replied John of the Catacombs -enigmatically. - -"I fear you will have to learn manners in my school, Don Giovan," said -Benilo in return. "But your answer. Are you ready?" - -"This very night?" gasped the bravo, suspecting the offer and fearful of -a snare. - -"Why not?" demanded the Chamberlain curtly. - -"I am bound in another's service!" - -"You are an over-punctilious rogue, Don Giovan. To-morrow then!" - -"Agreed!" gurgled the bravo, extending a monstrously large hand from -under his gown, with a forefinger of extraordinary length, on the end of -which there was a wart. - -Benilo pretended not to see the proffered member. But before addressing -himself further to John of the Catacombs he glanced round cautiously. - -"Are we alone?" - -The bravo nodded. - -"Is my presence here not proof enough?" - -The argument prevailed. - -"To our business then!" Benilo replied guardedly, seating himself upon a -fragment of granite and watching every gesture of the bravo. - -"There arrived to-day in Rome, Eckhardt the general. His welfare is very -dear to me! I should be disconsolate came he to harm in the exercise of -his mission, whatever that be!" - -There was a brief pause during which their eyes met. - -The outlaw's face twitched strangely. Or was it the play of the -moonbeams? - -"Being given to roaming at random round the city," Benilo continued, -speaking very slowly as if to aid the bravo's comprehension, "for such -is their wont in their own wildernesses,--I am fearful he might go -astray,--and the Roman temper is uncertain. Yet is Eckhardt so -fearless, that he would scorn alike warning or precaution. Therefore I -would have you dog his footsteps from afar,--but let him not suspect -your presence, if you wish to see the light of another morning. Wear -your monk's habit, it becomes you! You look as lean and hungry and -wolfish as a hermit of twelve years' halo, who feeds on wild roots and -snails. But to me you will each day report the points of interest, -which the German leader has visited, that I too may become familiar with -their attraction. Do I speak plainly?" - -"I will follow him as his shadow," gurgled the bravo. - -Benilo held out a purse which John of the Catacombs greedily devoured -with his eyes. - -"You are a greedy knave," he said at last with a forced laugh. "But -since you love gold so dearly, you shall feast your eyes on it till they -tire of its sheen. Be ready at my first call and remember--secrecy and -despatch!" - -"When shall it be?" queried the bravo. - -"A matter of a day or two at best--no longer! Meanwhile you will -improve your antiquarian learning by studying the walks of Rome in -company with the German general. But remember your distance, unless you -would meet the devil's grandame instead of creeping back to your hovels. -And where, by the way, may a pair of good eyes discover John of the -Catacombs in case of urgent need?" - -The bravo seemed to ponder. - -"There is an old inn behind the Forum. It will save your messenger the -trouble to seek me in the Catacombs. Have him ask for the lame brother -of the Penitents,--but do not write, for I cannot read it." - -Benilo nodded. - -"If I can trust you, the gain will be yours," he said. "And now--lead -the way!" - -John of the Catacombs preceded his new patron through the tall weeds -which almost concealed him from view, until they reached a clearing not -far from the river, whose turbid waves rolled sluggishly towards Ostia. -Here they parted, the bravo retracing his steps towards the region -whence they had come, while Benilo made for the gorge between Mounts -Aventine and Testaccio. It was an ill-famed vale, noted even in remote -antiquity for the gross orgies whence it had gained its evil repute, -after the cult of Isis had been brought from Egypt to Rome. - -The hour was not far from midnight. The moon had passed her zenith and -was declining in the horizon. Her pale spectral rays cast an uncertain -light over the region and gave the shadows a weird and almost -threatening prominence. In this gorge there dwelt one Dom Sabbat, half -sorcerer, half madman, towards whose habitation Benilo now directed his -steps. He was not long reaching a low structure, half concealed between -tall weeds and high boulders. Swiftly approaching, Benilo knocked at -the door. After a wait of some duration shuffling foot steps were to be -heard within. A door was being unbarred, then the Chamberlain could -distinguish the unfastening of chains, accompanied by a low dry cough. -At last the low door was cautiously opened and he found himself face to -face with an almost shapeless form in the long loose habit of the -cloister, ending in a peaked cowl, cut as it seemed out of one cloth, -and covering the face as well as the back of the head, barring only two -holes for the eyes and a slit for the mouth. After the uncanny host -had, by the light of a lantern, which he could shade at will, peered -closely into his visitor's face, he silently nodded, beckoning the other -to enter and carefully barred the door behind him. Through a low, -narrow corridor, Dom Sabbat led the way to a sort of kitchen, such as an -alchemist might use for his experiments and with many grotesque bends -bade his visitor be seated, but Benilo declined curtly, for he was ill -at ease. - -"I have little time to spare," he said, scarcely noticing the -alchemist's obeisance, "and less inclination to enter into particulars. -Give me what I want and let me be gone out of this atmosphere, which is -enough to stifle the lungs of an honest man." - -"Hi, hi, my illustrious friend," fawned the other with evident enjoyment -of his patron's impatience. "Was the horoscope not right to a minute? -Did not the charm work its unpronounced intent?" - -"'Tis well you remind me! It required six stabs to finish your bungling -work! See to it, that you do not again deceive me!" - -"You say six stabs?" replied Dom Sabbat, looking up from the task he was -engaged in, of mixing some substances in a mortar. "Yet Mars was in the -Cancer and the fourth house of the Sun. But perhaps the gentleman had -eaten river-snails with nutmeg or taken a bath in snake skins and -stags-antlers?" - -[Illustration: "Looking up from the task he was engaged in."] - -"To the devil with your river-snails!" exploded Benilo. "The -love-philtre and quickly,--else I will have you smoked out of your -devil's lair ere the moon be two hours older!" - -The alchemist shook his head, as if pained by his patron's ill temper. -Yet he could not abstain from tantalizing him by assuming a -misapprehension of his meaning. - -"The hour," he mumbled slowly, and with studied hesitation, "is not -propitious. Evil planets are in the ascendant and the influence of your -good genius is counteracted by antagonistic spells." - -"Fool!" growled Benilo, at the same time raising his foot as if to spurn -the impostor like a dog. "You keep but one sort of wares such as I -require,--let me have the strongest." - -Neither the gesture nor the insult were lost on Dom Sabbat, yet he -preserved a calm and imperturbable demeanour, while, as if -soliloquizing, he continued his irritating inquiries. - -"A love-philtre? They are priceless indeed;--even a nun,--three drops -of that clear tasteless fluid,--and she were yours." - -Again Benilo's lips straightened in a hard, drawn line. Stooping over -the alchemist, he whispered two words into his ear, which caused Dom -Sabbat to glance up with such an expression of horror that Benilo -involuntarily burst into a loud laugh, which sent the other spinning to -his task. - -Ransacking some remote corner in his devil's kitchen he at last produced -a tiny phial, which he wrapped in a thin scroll. This he placed with -trembling hands into those eagerly stretched out to grasp it and -received therefor a hand full of gold coin, the weight of which seemed -to indicate that secrecy was to constitute no small portion of the -bargain. - -After having conducted his visitor to the entrance, where he took leave -of him with many bends of the head and manifold protestations of -devotion, Dom Sabbat locked his abode and Benilo hastened towards the -city. - -As he mentally surveyed the events of the evening even to their remotest -consequences, he seemed to have neglected no precaution, nor omitted -anything which might eventually prevent him from triumphing over his -opponents. But even while reviewing with a degree of satisfaction the -business of the night, terrible misgivings, like dream shadows, drooped -over his mind. After all it was a foolhardy challenge he had thrown to -fate. Maddened by the taunts of a woman, he had arrayed forces against -himself which he must annihilate, else they would tear him to pieces. -The time for temporizing had passed. He stood on the crater of a -volcano, and his ears, trained to the sounds of danger, could hear the -fateful rumbling in the depths below. - -In that fateful hour there ripened in the brain of Benilo the -Chamberlain a thought, destined in its final consequences to subvert a -dynasty. After all there was no security for him in Rome, while the -Germans held sway in the Patrimony of St. Peter. But--indolent and -voluptuous as he was--caring for nothing save the enjoyment of the -moment, how was he to wield the thunderbolt for their destruction, how -was he to accomplish that, in which Crescentius had failed, backed by -forces equal to those of the foreigners and entrenched in his -impregnable stronghold? - -As Benilo weighed the past against the future, the scales of his crimes -sank so deeply to earth that, had Mercy thrown her weight in the balance -it would not have changed the ultimate decree of Retribution. Only the -utter annihilation of the foreign invaders could save him. Eckhardt's -life might be at the mercy of John of the Catacombs. The poison phial -might accomplish what the bravo's dagger failed to do,--but one thing -stood out clearly and boldly in his mind; the German leader must not -live! Theodora dared not win the wager,--but even therein lay the -greater peril. The moment she scented an obstacle in her path, she -would move all the powers of darkness to remove it and it required -little perspicuity to point out the source, whence it proceeded. - -At the thought of the humiliation he had received at her hands, Benilo -gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. His pride, his vanity, his -self-love, had been cruelly stabbed. He might retaliate by rousing her -fear. But if she had passed beyond the point of caring? - -As, wrapt in dark ruminations, Benilo followed the lonely path, which -carried him toward the city, there came to him a thought, swift and -sudden, which roused the evil nature within him to its highest tension. - -Could his own revenge be more complete than by using his enemies, one -for the destruction of the other? And as for the means,--Theodora -herself would furnish them. Meanwhile--how would Johannes Crescentius -bear the propinquity of his hereditary foe, the emperor? Might not the -Senator be goaded towards the fateful brink of rebellion? Then,--Romans -and Germans once more engaged in a death grapple,--his own time would -come, must come, the time of victory and ultimate triumph. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *THE VISION OF SAN PANCRAZIO* - - -Two days had elapsed since Eckhardt's arrival in Rome. At the close of -each day, he had met Benilo on the Palatine, each time renewing the -topic of their former discourse. Benilo had listened attentively and, -with all the eloquence at his command, had tried to dissuade the -commander from taking a step so fateful in its remotest consequences. -On the evening of the third day the Chamberlain had displayed a strange -disquietude and replied to Eckhardt's questions with a wandering mind. -Then without disclosing the nature of the business which he professed to -have on hand, they parted earlier than had been their wont. - -The shades of evening began to droop with phantom swiftness. Over the -city brooded the great peace of an autumnal twilight. The last rays of -the sun streaming from between a heavy cloud-bank, lay across the -landscape in broad zones of brilliancy. In the pale green sky, one by -one, the evening stars began to appear, but through the distant -cloud-bank quivered summer lightning like the waving of fiery whips. - -Feeling that sleep would not come to him in his present wrought up state -of mind, Eckhardt resolved to revisit the spot which held the dearest he -had possessed on earth. Perhaps, that prayer at the grave of Ginevra -would bring peace to his soul and rest to his wearied heart. His feet -bore him onward unawares through winding lanes and deserted streets -until he reached the gate of San Sebastiano. There, he left the road -for a turfy hollow, where groups of black cypress trees stretched out -their branches like spectral arms, uplifted to warn back intruders. He -stood before the churchyard of San Pancrazio. - -Pausing for a moment irresolutely before its gloomy portals Eckhardt -seemed to waver before entering the burial ground. Hushing his -footsteps, as from a sense of awe, he then followed the well-known path. -The black foliage drooped heavily over him; it seemed to draw him in and -close him out of sight, and although there was scarcely any breeze, the -dying leaves above rustled mysteriously, like voices whispering some -awful secret, known to them alone. A strange mystery seemed to pervade -the silence of their sylvan shadows, a mystery, dread, unfathomable, and -guessed by none. With a dreary sense of oppression, yet drawn onward by -some mysterious force, Eckhardt followed the path, which here and there -was over-grown with grass and weeds. Uneasily he lifted the overhanging -branches and peered between the dense and luminous foliage. Up and down -he wistfully gazed, now towards the winding path, lined by old -gravestones, leading to the cloister; now into the shadowy depths of the -shrubbery. At times he paused to listen. Never surely was there such a -silence anywhere as here. The murmur of the distant stream was lost. -The leaves seemed to nod drowsily, as out of the depths of a dream and -the impressive stillness of the place seemed a silent protest against -the solitary intruder, a protest from the dead, whose slumber the -muffled echo of his footsteps disturbed. - -For the first time Eckhardt repented of his nocturnal visit to the abode -of the dead. Seized with a strange fear, his presence in the churchyard -at this hour seemed to him an intrusion, and after a moment or two of -silent musing he turned back, finding it impossible to proceed. -Absently he gazed at the decaying flowers, which turned their faces up -to him in apparent wonderment; the ferns seemed to nod and every -separate leaf and blade of grass seemed to question him silently on the -errand of his visit. Surely no one, watching Eckhardt at this place and -at this hour, if there was such a one near by chance, would have -recognized in him the stern soldier who had twice stormed the walls of -Rome. - -Onward he walked as in the memory of a dream, a strange dream, which had -visited him on the preceding night, and which now suddenly waked in his -memory. It was a vague haunting thing, a vision of a great altar, of -many candles, of himself in a gown of sack-cloth, striving to light them -and failing again and again, yet still seeing their elusive glare in a -continual flicker before his eyes. And as he mused upon his dream his -heart grew heavy in his breast. He had grown cowardly of pity and -renewed grief. - -Following a winding path, so overgrown with moss that his footsteps made -no sound upon it, which he believed would lead him out of the -churchyard, Eckhardt was staggered by the discovery that he had walked -in a circle, for almost directly before him rose the grassy knoll tufted -with palms, between which shone the granite monument over Ginevra's -grave. Believing at this moment more than ever in his life in signs and -portents, Eckhardt slowly ascended the sloping ground, now oblivious -alike to sight and sound, and lost in the depths of his own thoughts. -Bitter thoughts they were and dreamily vague, such as fever and -nightmare bring to us. Relentlessly all the long-fought misery swept -over him again, burying him beneath waves so vast, that time and space -seemed alike to vanish. He knelt at the grave and with a fervour such -as is born of a mind completely lost in the depths of mysticism, he -prayed that he might once more behold Ginevra, as her image lived in his -memory. The vague deep-rooted misery in his heart was concentrated in -this greatest desire of his life, the desire to look once more upon her, -who had gone from him for ever. - -After having exhausted all the pent-up fervour of his soul Eckhardt was -about to rise, little strengthened and less convinced of the efficacy of -his prayer, when his eyes were fixed upon the tall apparition of a -woman, who stood in the shadow of the cypress trees and seemed to regard -him with a strange mixture of awe and mournfulness. With parted lips -and rigid features, the life's blood frozen in his veins, Eckhardt -stared at the apparition, his face covered with a pallor more deadly -than that of the phantom, if phantom indeed it was. A long white shroud -fell in straight folds from her head to her feet, but the face was -exposed, and as he gazed upon it, at once so calm and so passionate, so -cold and yet so replete with life,--he knew it was Ginevra who stood -before him. Her eyes, strangely undimmed by death, burnt into his very -soul, and his heart began to palpitate with a mad longing. Spreading -out his arms in voiceless entreaty, the half-choken outcry: "Ginevra! -Ginevra!" came from his lips, a cry in which was mingled at once the -most supreme anguish and the most supreme love. - -But as the sound of his voice died away, the apparition had vanished, -and seemed to have melted into air. Only a lizard sped over the stone -in the moonlight and in the branches of the cypress trees above -resounded the scream of some startled night-bird. Then everything faded -in vague unconsciousness, across which flitted lurid lights and a face -that suddenly grew dim in the strange and tumultuous upheaval of his -senses. The single moment had seemed an hour, so fraught with strange -and weird impressions. - -Dazed, half-mad, his brow bathed in cold dew, Eckhardt staggered to his -feet and glanced round like one waking from a dream. The churchyard of -San Pancrazio was deserted. Not another human being was to be seen. -Surely his senses, strangely overwrought though they were, had not -deceived him. Here,--close beside him,--the apparition had stood but a -moment ago; with his own eyes he had seen her, yet no human foot had -trampled the fantastic tangle of creepers, that lay in straggling length -upon the emerald turf. He lingered no longer to reason. His brain was -in a fiery whirl. Like one demented, Eckhardt rushed from the -church-yard. There was at this moment in his heart such a pitiful -tumult of broken passions, hopelessness and despair, that the acute, -unendurable pain came later. - -As yet, half of him refused to accept the revelation. The very thought -crushed him with a weight of rocks. Amid the deceitful shadows of night -he had fallen prey to that fear from which the bravest are not exempt in -such surroundings. The distinctness of his perception forbade him to -doubt the testimony of his senses. Yet, what he had seen, was -altogether contrary to reason. A thousand thoughts and surmises, one -wilder than the other, whirled confusedly through his brain. A great -benumbing agony gnawed at his heart. That, which he in reason should -have regarded as a great boon began to affect him like a mortal injury. -By fate or some mysterious agency he had been permitted to see her once -more, but the yearning had increased, for not a word had the apparition -vouchsafed him, and from his arms, extended in passionate entreaty, it -had fled into the night, whence it had arisen. - -Accustomed to the windings of the churchyard, Eckhardt experienced -little difficulty in finding his way out. He paced through the wastes -of Campo Marzio at a reckless speed, like a madman escaped from his -guards. His brain was aflame; his cheeks, though deadly pale, burned as -from the hidden fires of a fever. The phenomenon had dazzled his eyes -like the keen zigzag of a lightning flash. Even now he saw her floating -before him, as in a luminous whirlwind, and he felt, that never to his -life's end could he banish her image from his heart. His love for the -dead had grown to vastness like those plants, which open their blossoms -with a thunder clap. He felt no longer master of himself, but like one -whose chariot is carried by terrified and uncontrollable steeds towards -some steep rock bristling precipice. - -Gradually, thanks to the freshness of the night-air, Eckhardt became a -little more calm. Feeling now but half convinced of the reality of the -vision, he sought by the authentication of minor details to convince -himself that he was not the victim of some strange hallucination. But -he felt, to his dismay, that every natural explanation tell short of the -truth, and his own argumentation was anything but convincing. - -In the climax of wonderment Eckhardt had questioned himself, whether he -might not actually be walking in a dream; he even seriously asked -himself whether madness was not parading its phantoms before his eyes. -But he soon felt constrained to admit, that he was neither asleep nor -mad. Thus he began gradually to accept the fact of Ginevra's presence, -as in a dream we never question the intervention of persons actually -long dead, but who nevertheless seem to act like living people. - -The moon was sinking through the azure when Eckhardt passed the Church -of the Hermits on Mount Aventine. The portals were open; the ulterior -dimly lighted. The spirit of repentance burned at fever heat in the -souls of the Romans. From day-break till midnight, and from midnight -till day-break, there rose under the high vaulted arches an incessant -hum of prayer. The penitential cells, the vaults underneath the -chapels, were never empty. The crowds which poured into the city from -all the world were ever increasing, and the myriad churches, chapels and -chantries rang night and day with Kyrie Eleison litanies and sermons, -purporting to portray the catastrophe, the hail of brimstone and fire, -until the terrified listeners dashed away amid shrieks and yells, shaken -to the inmost depths of their hearts with the fear that was upon them. - -There were still some belated worshippers within, and as Eckhardt -ascended the stone steps, he was seized with an incontrollable desire to -have speech with Nilus, the hermit of Gaëta, who, he had been told, was -holding forth in the Church of the Hermits. To him he would confess -all, that sorely troubled his mind, seeking his counsel and advice. The -immense blackness within the Basilica stretched vastly upward into its -great arching roof, giving to him who stood pigmy-like within it, an -oppression of enormity. Black was the centre of the Nave and -unutterably still. A few torches in remote shrines threw their -lugubrious light down the aisles. The pale faces of kneeling monks came -now and then into full relief, when the scant illumination shifted, -stirred by ever so faint a breath of air, heavy with the scent of -flowers and incense. - -Almost succumbing under the strain of superstitious awe, exhausted in -body and mind by the strange malady, which had seized his soul, his -senses reeling under the fumes of incense and the funereal chant of the -monks, his eyes burning with the fires of unshed tears, Eckhardt sank -down before the image of the Mother of God, striving in vain to form a -coherent prayer. - -How long he had thus remained he knew not. The sound of footsteps in -the direction of the North transept roused him after a time to the -purpose of his presence. Following the direction indicated to him by -one of the sacristans, Eckhardt groped his way through the dismal gloom -towards the enclosure where Nilus of Gaëta was supposed to hold his dark -sessions. By the dim light of a lamp he perceived in the confessional -the shadowy form of a monk, and approaching the wicket, he greeted the -occupant with a humble bend of the head. But, what was visible of the -monk's countenance was little calculated to relieve the oppression which -burdened Eckhardt's soul. - -From the mask of the converted cynic peered the eyes of a fanatic. The -face was one, which might have suggested to Luca Signorelli the traits -of his Anti-Christ in the Capella Nuova at Orvieto. In the deep -penetrating eyes was reflected the final remorse of the wisdom, which -had renounced its maker. The face was evil. Yet it was a face of -infinite grief, as if mourning the eternal fall of man. - -Despite the advanced hour of night the monk was still in his seat of -confession, and the mighty leader of the German host, wrapt in his long -military cloak, knelt before the emaciated anchorite, his face, manner -and voice all betraying a great weariness of mind. A look of almost -bodily pain appeared in Eckhardt's stern countenance as, at the request -of the monk, who had receded within the gloom of the confessional, he -recounted the phenomena of the night, after having previously acquainted -him with the burden of his grief. - -The monk listened attentively to the weird tale and shook his head. - -"I am most strangely in my senses," Eckhardt urged, noting the monk's -gesture. "I have seen her,--whether in the body, or the spirit, I know -not,--but I have seen her." - -"I have listened, my son," said the monk after a pause, in his low -sepulchral voice.--"Ginevra loved you,--so you say. What could have -wrought a change in her, such as you hint? For if she loved you in -life, she loves you in death. Why should she--supposing her -present--flee from your outstretched arms? If your love could compel -her to return from the beyond,--why should it lack the power to make the -phantom give response?" - -"Could I but fathom that mystery,--could I but fathom it!" - -"Did you not speak to her?" - -"My lips but uttered her name!" - -"I am little versed in matters of this kind," the monk replied in a -strange tone. "'Tis but the natural law, which may not be transgressed -with impunity. Is your faith so small, that you would rather uproot the -holiest ties, than deem yourself the victim of some hallucination, -mayhap some jeer of the fiend? Dare you raise yourself on a pedestal, -which takes from her her defenceless virtue, cold and silent as her lips -are in death?" - -Every word of the monk struck Eckhardt's heart with a thousand pangs. A -deep groan broke from his lips. - -"Madman that I was," he muttered at last, "to think that such a tale was -fit for mortal ears." - -Then he turned to the monk. - -"Have you no solace to give to me, no light upon the dark path, I am -about to enter upon,--the life of the cloister, where I shall end my -days?" - -There was a long pause. Surprise seemed to have struck the monk dumb. -Eckhardt's heart beat stormily in anticipation of the anchorite's reply. - -"But," a voice sounded from the gloom, "have you the patience, the -humility, which it behooves the recluse to possess, and without which -all prayers and penances are in vain?" - -"Show me how I can humble myself more, than at this hour, when I -renounce a life of glory, ambition and command. All I want is -peace,--that peace which has forsaken me since her death!" - -His last words died in a groan. - -"Peace," repeated the monk. "You seek peace in the seclusion of the -cloister, in holy devotions. I thought Eckhardt of too stern a mould, -to be goaded and turned from his duty by a mere whim, a pale phantom." - -A long silence ensued. - -"Father," said the Margrave at last, speaking in a low and broken voice, -"I have done no act of wrong. I will do no act of wrong, while I have -control over myself. But the thought of the dead haunts me night and -day. Otto has no further need of me. Rome is pacified. The life at -court is irksome to me. The king loves to surround himself with -perfumed popinjays, discarding the time-honoured customs of our -Northland for the intricate polity of the East.--There is no place for -Eckhardt in that sphere of mummery." - -For a few moments the monk meditated in silence. - -"It grieves me to the heart," he spoke at last, "to hear a soldier -confess to being tempted into a life of eternal abnegation. I judge it -to be a passing madness, which distance and work alone can cure. You -are not fitted in the sight of God and His Mother for the spiritual -life, for in Mezentian thraldom you have fettered your soul to a corpse -in its grave, a sin as black as if you had been taken in adultery with -the dead. Remain in Rome no longer! Return to your post on the -boundaries of the realm. There,--in your lonely tent, pray nightly to -the Immaculate One for her blessing and pass the day in the saddle among -the scattered outposts of your command! The monks of Rome shall not be -festered by the presence among them of your fevered soul, and you are -sorely needed by God and His Son for martial life." - -"Father, you know not all!" Eckhardt replied after a brief pause, during -which he lay prostrate, writhing in agony and despair. "From youth up -have I lived as a man of war.--To this I was bred by my sire and -grandsire of sainted memory. I have always hoped to die on some glorious -field. But it is all changed. I, who never feared mortal man, am -trembling before a shadow. My love for her, who is no more, has made me -a coward. I tremble to think that I may not find her in the darkness, -whither soon I may be going. To this end alone I would purchase the -peace, which has departed. The thought of her has haunted me night and -day, ever since her death! How often in the watches of the night, on -the tented field, have I lain awake in silent prayer, once more to -behold her face, that I can never more forget!" - -There was another long pause, during which the monk cast a piercing -glance at the prostrate soldier. Slowly at last the voice came from the -shadows. - -"Then you still believe yourself thus favoured?" - -"So firmly do I believe in the reality of the vision, that I am here to -ask your blessing and your good offices with the Prior of St. Cosmas in -the matter closest to my heart." - -"Nay," the monk replied as if speaking to himself, "if you have indeed -been favoured with a vision, then were it indeed presumptuous in one, -the mere interpreter of the will divine, to oppose your request! You -have chosen a strict brotherhood, though, for when your novitiate is -ended, you will not be permitted to ever again leave the walls of the -cloister." - -"Such is my choice," replied Eckhardt. "And now your blessing and -intercession, father. Let the time of my novitiate be brief!" - -"I will do what I can," replied the monk, then he added slowly and -solemnly: - -"Christ accepts your obedience and service! I purge you of your sins in -the name of the Trinity and the Mother of God, into whose holy keeping I -now commit you! Go in peace!" - -"I go!" muttered the Margrave, rising exhausted from his long agony and -staggering down the dark aisles of the church. - -Eckhardt's footsteps had no sooner died away in the gloom of the -high-vaulted arches, than two shadows emerged from behind a pillar and -moved noiselessly down towards the refectory. - -In the dim circle of light emanating from the tapers round the altar, -they faced each other a moment. - -"What ails the Teuton?" muttered the Grand Chamberlain, peering into the -muffled countenance of the pseudo-confessor. - -"He upbraids the fiend for cheating him of the smile of a corpse," the -monk Cyprianus replied with strangely jarring voice. - -"And yet you fear I will lose my wager?" sneered the Chamberlain. - -The monk shrugged his shoulders. - -"They have a proverb in Ferrara: 'He who may not eat a peach, may not -smell at it.'" - -"And you were not revealed to him, you, for whom he has scoured the very -slime of the Tiber?" Benilo queried, ignoring the monk's facetiousness. - -"'Tis sad to think, what changes time has wrought," replied the latter -with downcast eyes. "Truly it behooves us to think of the end,--the end -of time!" - -And without another word the monk passed down the aisles and his tall -form was swallowed in the gloom of the Church of the Hermits. - -"The end!" Benilo muttered to himself as he thoughtfully gazed after the -monk. "Croak thou thine own doom, Cyprianus! One soul weighs as much as -another in the devil's balance!" - -With these words Benilo passed through the portals of the church and was -soon lost to sight among the ruins of the Aventine. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *CASTEL SAN ANGELO* - - -Night had spread her pinions over the ancient capital of the Cæsars and -deepest silence had succeeded the thousand cries and noises of the day. -Few belated strollers still lingered in the deserted squares. Under the -shadows of the Borgo Vecchio slow moving figures could be seen flitting -noiselessly as phantoms through the marble ruins of antiquity, pausing -for a moment under the high unlighted arches, talking in undertones and -vanishing in the night, while the remote swell of monkish chants, -monotonous and droning, died on the evanescent breezes. - -Round Castel San Angelo, rising, a giant Mausoleum, vast and sombre out -of the solitudes of the Flaminian Way, night wove a more poetic air of -mystery and quiet, and but for the tread of the ever wakeful sentinels -on its ramparts, the colossal tomb of the emperor Hadrian would have -appeared a deserted Memento Mori of Imperial Rome, the possession of -which no one cared to dispute with the shades of the Cæsars or the -ghosts of the mangled victims, which haunted the intricate labyrinth of -its subterranean chambers and vaults. - -A pale moon was rising behind the hills of Albano, whose ghostly rays -cast an unsteady glow over the undulating expanse of the Roman Campagna, -and wove a pale silver mounting round the crest of the imperial tomb, -whose towering masses seemed to stretch interminably into the night, as -if oppressed with their own memories. - -What a monstrous melodrama was contained in yonder circular walls! They -wore a comparatively smiling look only in the days when Castel San -Angelo received the dead. Then according to the historian Procopius, -the immense three-storied rotunda, surmounted by a pyramidal roof had -its sides covered with Parian marble, intersected with columns and -surmounted with a ring of Grecian statues. The first story was a -quadrangular basement, decorated with festoons and tablets of funeral -inscriptions, colossal equestrian groups in gilt bronze at the four -corners. - -Within the memory of living generation, this pile had been the theatre -of a tragedy, almost unparalleled in the annals of Rome, the scene of -the wildest Saturnalia, that ever stained the history of mediæval state. -An incongruous relic of antique profligacy and the monstrosities of the -lower empire, drawing its fatal power from feudal institutions, -Theodora, a woman illustrious for her beauty and rank, had at the dawn -of the century quartered herself in Castel San Angelo. From there she -exercised over Rome a complete tyranny, sustained against German -influence by an Italian party, which counted amongst its chiefs -Adalbert, Count of Tuscany, the father of this second Messalina. Her -fateful beauty ruled Church and state. Theodora caused one pontiff after -another to be deposed and nominated eight popes successively. She had a -daughter as beautiful and as powerful as herself and still more -depraved. Marozia, as she was called, reigned supreme in Castel San -Angelo and caused the election of Sergius III, Anastasius III and John -X, the latter a creature of Theodora, who had him appointed to the -bishopric of Ravenna. Intending to deprive Theodora and her lover, the -Pope, of the dominion of Rome, Marozia invaded the Lateran with a band -of ruffians, put to the sword the brother of the Pope, and incarcerated -the pontiff, who died in prison either by poison or otherwise. -Tradition relates that his corpse was placed in Theodora's bed, and -superstition believes that he was strangled by the devil as a punishment -for his sins. - -Left as widow by the premature death of the Count of Tusculum and -married to Guido, Prince of Tuscany, Marozia, after the demise of her -second husband, was united by a third marriage to Hugo of Provence, -brother of Guido. Successively she placed on the pontifical throne Leo -VI and Stephen VIII, then she gave the tiara to John XI, her younger -son. One of her numerous offspring imprisoned in the same dungeon both -his mother and his brother, the Pope, and then destroyed them. Rumour -hath it, however, that a remote descendant, who had inherited Marozia's -fatal beauty, had been mysteriously abducted at an early age and -concealed in a convent, to save her from the contamination and -licentiousness, which ran riot in the blood of the women of her house. -She had been heard of no more and forgotten long ago. - -After the changes and vicissitudes of half a century the family of the -Crescentii had taken possession of Castel San Angelo, keeping their -state in the almost impregnable stronghold, without which the possession -of Rome availed but little to any conqueror. It was a period marked by -brutal passions and feudal anarchy. The Romans had degenerated to the -low estate of the barbarian hordes, which had during the great upheaval -extinguished the light of the Western empire. The Crescentii traced -their origin even to that Theodora of evil fame, who had perished in the -dungeons of the formidable keep, and Johannes Crescentius, the present -Senator and Patricius, seemed wrapt in dark ruminations, as from the -window of a chamber in the third gallery he looked out into the night, -gazing upon the eddying Tiber below, bordered by dreary huts, thinly -interspersed with ilex, and the barren wastes, from which rose massive -watch-towers. Far away to Southward sloped the Alban hills. From the -dark waving greens of Monte Pincio the eye, wandering along the ridge of -the Quirinal, reached to the mammoth arches of Constantine's Basilica, -to the cypress bluffs of Aventine. Almost black they looked at the -base, so deep was their shade, contrasted with the spectral moon-light, -which flooded their eminences. - -The chamber in which the Senator of Rome paced to and fro, was large and -exceedingly gloomy, being lighted only by a single taper which threw all -objects it did not touch into deep shadow. This fiery illumination, -casting its uncertain glimmer upon the face of Crescentius, revealed -thereon an expression of deepest gloom and melancholy and his thoughts -seemed to roam far away. - -The workings of time, the traces of furious passions, the lines wrought -by care and sorrow were evident in the countenance of the Senator of -Rome and sometimes gave it in the eyes of the physiognomist an -expression of melancholy and devouring gloom. Only now and then there -shot athwart his features, like lightning through a distant cloud-bank, -a look of more strenuous daring--of almost terrifying keenness, like the -edge of a bare and sharpened sword. - -The features of Johannes Crescentius were regular, almost severe in -their classic outlines. It was the Roman type, softened by centuries of -amalgamation with the descendants of the invading tribes of the North. -The Lord of Castel San Angelo was in the prime of manhood. The dark -hair was slightly touched with gray, his complexion bronzed. The gray -eyes with their glow like polished steel had a Brutus-like expression, -grave and impenetrable. - -The hour marked the close of a momentous interview. Benilo, the Grand -Chamberlain, had just left the Senator's presence. He had been the -bearer of strange news which, if it proved true, would once more turn -the tide of fortune in the Senator's favour. He had urged Crescentius -to make the best of the opportunity--the moment might never return -again. He had unmasked a plot, the plausibility of which had even -staggered the Senator's sagacious mind. At first Crescentius had -fiercely resented the Chamberlain's suggestions, but by degrees his -resistance had lessened and after his departure the course outlined by -Benilo seemed to hold rut a strange fascination. - -After glancing at the sand-clock on the table Crescentius ascended the -narrow winding stairs leading to the upper galleries of the formidable -keep, whose dark, blackened walls were lighted by tapers in measured -intervals, and made his way through a dark passage, until he reached the -door of an apartment at the opposite end of the corridor. He knocked -and receiving no response, entered, closing the door noiselessly behind -him. - -On the threshold he paused taking in at a glance the picture before him. - -The apartment was of moderate size. The lamp in the oratory was turned -low. The windows facing the Campagna were open and the soft breeze of -night stole into the flower-scented room. There was small semblance of -luxury about the chamber, which was flanked on one side by an oratory, -on the other, by a sleeping room, whose open door permitted a glimpse of -a great, high bed, hung with draperies of sarcenet. - -On a couch, her head resting on her bare, white arms reclined Stephania, -the consort of the Senator of Rome. Tenderly the night wind caressed -the soft dark curls, which stole down her brow. Her right hand -supported a head exquisitely beautiful, while the fingers of the left -played mechanically with the folds of her robe. Zoë, her favourite -maiden, sat in silence on the floor, holding in her lap a red and blue -bird, which now and then flapped its wings and gave forth a strange cry. -All else was silent within and without. - -Stephania's thoughts dwelt in bygone days. - -Listless and silent she reclined in her pillows, reviewing the past in -pictures that mocked her soul. Till a few hours ago she had believed -that she had conquered that madness. But something had inflamed her -hatred anew and she felt like a goddess bent upon punishing the -presumption of mortal man. - -The memory of her husband holding the emperor's stirrup upon the -latter's entry into Rome had rekindled in her another thought which she -most of all had striven to forget. It alone had, to her mind, sufficed -to make reconciliation to existing conditions impossible. Shame and -hate seethed anew in her soul. She could have strangled the son of -Theophano with her own hands. - -But did Crescentius himself wish to break the shackles which were -forever to destroy the prestige of a noble house, that had for more than -a century ruled the city of Rome? Was he content to be the lackey of -that boy, before whom a mighty empire bowed, a youth truly, imbued with -the beauty of body and soul which fall but rarely to one mortal's -lot--but yet a youth, a barbarian, the descendant of the Nomad tribes of -the great upheaval? Was there no one, worthy of the name of a great -Roman, who would cement the disintegrated states of Italy, plant his -standards upon the Capitol and proclaim himself lord of new Roman world? -And he, her husband, from whom at one time she had expected such great -things, was he not content with his lot? Was he not at this very moment -offering homage to the despised foreigners, kissing the sandals of a -heretical pope, whom a bribed Conclave had placed in the chair of St. -Peter through the armed manifestation of an emperor's will? - -The walls of Castel San Angelo weighed upon her like lead, since Rome -was again defiled by these Northern barbarians, whom her countrymen were -powerless to repulse, whom they dared not provoke and under whose -insolence they smarted. Stephania heaved a deep sigh. Then everything -faded from her vision, like a landscape shrouded in mist and she -relapsed in twilight dreams of a past that had gone forever. - -For a moment Crescentius lingered on the threshold, as if entranced by -the vision of her loveliness. The stern and anxious look, which his -face had worn during the interview with the Chamberlain, passed off like -a summer storm, as he stood before his adored wife. She started, as his -shadow darkened the doorway, but the next moment he was at her side, and -taking both her white hands in his, he drew her towards him and gazed -with love and scrutiny into the velvet depths of her eyes. - -For a moment her manner seemed slightly embarrassed and there was -something in her tone which did not escape the Senator's trained ear. - -"I am glad you came," she said after the usual interchange of greetings -such as lovers indulge in when brought together after a brief -separation. "My lord's time has been greatly occupied in the emperor's -absence." - -Crescentius failed not to note the reproach in the tone of his wife, -even through her smile. She seemed more radiantly beautiful than ever -at this moment. - -"And what would my queen have?" he asked. "All I have, or ever shall -have, is hers." - -"Queen indeed,--queen of a sepulcher, of the Mausoleum of an emperor," -she replied scornfully. "But I ask not for jewels or palaces--or -women's toys. I am my lord's helpmate. I am to take counsel in affairs -of state." - -A musing glance broke from the Senator's eyes. - -"Affairs of state," he said, with a smile and a sigh. "Alas,--I hoped -when I turned my back on Aventine, there would be love awaiting me and -oblivion--in Stephania's arms. But I have strange news for you,--has it -reached your ear?" - -She shook her head. "I know of nothing stranger than the prevailing -state." - -He ignored the veiled reproach. - -"Margrave Eckhardt of Meissen, the German commander-in-chief, is bent -upon taking holy orders. I thought it was an idle rumour, some gossip -of the taverns, but within the hour it has been confirmed to me by a -source whose authenticity is above doubt." - -"And your informant?" - -"Benilo, the Chamberlain." - -"And whence this sudden world weariness?" - -"The mastering grief for the death of his wife." - -Stephania fell to musing. - -"Benilo," she spoke after a time, "has his own ends in view--not yours. -Trust him not!" - -Crescentius felt a strange misgiving as he remembered his late discourse -with the Chamberlain, and the latter's suggestion, the primary cause of -his visit to Stephania's apartments. - -"I fear you mistrust him needlessly," he said after a pause. "Benilo's -friendship for the emperor is but the mantle, under which he conceals -the lever that shall raise the Latin world." - -Stephania gazed absently into space. - -"As I lay dreaming in the evening light, looking out upon the city, -which you should rule, by reason of your name, by reason of your -descent,--of a truth, I did marvel at your patience." - -A laugh of bitter scorn broke from the Senator's lips. - -"Can the living derive force and energy from a past, that is forgotten? -Rome does not want tragedies! It wants to be danced to, sung to and -amused. Anything to make the rabble forget their own abasement. 'Panem -et Circenses' has been for ever their cry." - -"Yet ours is a glorious race! Of a blood which has flowed untarnished -in the veins of our ancestors for centuries. It has been our proud -boast, that not a drop of the mongrel blood of foreign invaders ever -tainted our own. It is not for the Roman rabble I grieve,--it is for -ourselves." - -"You have wondered at my patience, Stephania, at my endurance of the -foreign yoke, at my seeming indifference to the traditions of our house. -Would you, after all, counsel rebellion?" - -"I would but have you remember, that you are a Roman," Stephania replied -with her deep-toned voice. "Stephania's husband, and too good to hold -an emperor's stirrup." - -"Then indeed you sorely misjudge me, if you think that under this -outward mask of serene submission there slumbers a spirit indifferent to -the cause of Rome. If the prediction of Nilus is true, we have not much -time to lose. Send the girl away! It is not well that she hear too -much." - -The last words, spoken in a whisper, caused Stephania to dismiss the -Greek maid. Then she said: - -"And do you too, my lord, believe in these monkish dreams?" - -"The world cannot endure forever." - -Crescentius paused, glanced round the apartment, as if to convince -himself that there was no other listener. Then he rose, and strode to -the curtain, which screened the entrance to an inner chamber. Not until -he had convinced himself that they were alone, did he resume his seat by -the side of Stephania. Then he spoke in low and cautious accents: - -"I have brooded over the present state, until I am well nigh mad. I -have brooded ever since the first tidings of Otto's approach reached the -city, how to make a last, desperate dash for freedom and our old rights. -I have conceived a plan, as yet known to none but to myself. Too many -hunters spoil the chase. We cannot count on the people. Long fasts and -abstinences have made them cowards. Let them listen to the monks! Let -them howl their Misereres! I will not break into their rogue's litany -nor deprive them of their chance in purgatory." - -He paused for a moment, as if endeavouring to bring order into his -thoughts, then he continued, slowly. - -"It is but seemly that the Romans in some way requite the affection so -royally showered on them by the German King. Therefore it is in my mind -to arrange such festivities in honour of Otto's return from the shrines -of Monte Gargano, as shall cause him to forget the burden of -government." - -"And enhance his love for our sunny land," Stephania interposed. - -"That malady is incurable," Crescentius replied. "Otto is a fantastic. -He dreams of making Rome the capital of the earth,--a madness harmless -in itself, were it not for Bruno in the chair of St. Peter. Single -handed their efforts might be stemmed. Their combined frenzy will sweep -everything before it. These festivities are to dazzle the eyes of the -stalwart Teutons whose commander is a very Cerberus of watchfulness. -Under the cover of merry-making I shall introduce into Castel San Angelo -such forces from the Calabrian themes as will supplant the lack of Roman -defenders. And as for the Teutons--their souls will be ours through our -women; their bodies through our men." - -Crescentius paused. Stephania too was silent, less surprised at the -message than its suddenness. She had never wholly despaired of him. -Now his speech revealed to her that Crescentius could be as crafty in -intrigue as he was bold in warfare. Proud as she was and averse to -dissimulation the intrigue unmasked by the Senator yet fascinated her, -as the only means to reach the long coveted goal. "Rome for the Romans" -had for generations been the watchword of her house and so little pains -had she taken to disguise her feelings that when upon some former -occasion Otto had craved an audience of her, an unheard of -condescension, inspired as much by her social position as by the fame of -her unrivalled beauty, the imperial envoy had departed with an -ill-disguised rebuff, and Stephania had shut herself up within the walls -of a convent till Otto and his hosts had returned beyond the Alps. - -"Within one week, Eckhardt is to be consecrated," Crescentius continued -with slight hesitation, as if not quite assured of the directness of his -arguments with regard to the request he was about to prefer. "Every -pressure is being brought to bear upon him, to keep him true to his -purpose. Even a guard is--at Benilo's instigation--to be placed at the -portals of St. Peter's to prevent any mischance whatsoever during the -ceremony." - -He paused, to watch the effect of his speech upon Stephania and to -ascertain if he dared proceed. But as he gazed into the face of the -woman he loved, he resolved that not a shadow of suspicion should ever -cloud that white brow, caressed by the dark wealth of her silken hair. - -"The German leader removed for ever," Crescentius continued, "immured -alive within the inexorable walls of the cloister--small is indeed the -chance for another German victory." - -"But will King Otto acquiesce to lose his great leader?" - -"Benilo is fast supplanting Eckhardt in Otto's favour. Benilo wishes -what Otto wishes. Benilo sees what Otto sees. Benilo speaks what Otto -thinks. Rome is pacified; Rome is content; Rome is happy; what need of -heavy armament? Eckhardt reviles the Romans,--he reviles Benilo, he -reviles the new state,--he insists upon keeping his iron hosts in the -Neronian field,--within sight of Castel San Angelo. It was to be Benilo -or Eckhardt--you know the result." - -"But if you were deceived," Stephania replied with a shudder. "Your -eagle spirit often ascends where mine fails to follow. Yet,--be not -over-bold." - -"I am not deceived! I bide my time. 'Tis not by force men slay the -rushing bull. Otto would regenerate the Roman world. But he himself is -to be the God of his new state, a jealous God who brooks no rival--only -subjects or slaves. He has nursed this dream until it is part of -himself, of his own flesh and blood. What may you expect of a youth, -who, not content to absorb the living, calls the dead to his aid? He -shall nevermore recross the Alps alive." - -Crescentius' tone grew gloomy as he continued. - -"I bear the youth no grudge, nor ill-will.--But Rome cannot share. He -has a power of which he is himself unconscious; it is the inheritance -from his Hellenic mother. Were he conscious of its use, hardly the grave -would be a safe refuge for us. Once Rome triumphed over Hellas. Shall -Hellas trample Rome in the dust in the person of this boy, whose -unspoken word will sweep our old traditions from the soil?" - -"But this power, this weakness as you call it--what is it?" Stephania -interposed, raising her head questioningly. "I know you have not -scrutinized the armour, which encases that fantastic soul, without an -effort to discover a flaw." - -"And I have discovered it," Crescentius replied, his heart beating -strangely. Stephania herself was leading up to the fatal subject of his -visit; but in the depths of his soul he trembled for fear of himself, -and wished he had not come. - -"And what have you discovered?" Stephania persisted curiously. - -"The weak spot in the armour," he replied, avoiding her gaze. - -"Is there a remedy?" - -"We lack but the skilful physician." - -Stephania raised herself from her recumbent position. With pale and -colourless face she stared at the speaker. - -"Surely--you would not resort to--" - -She paused, her lips refusing to utter the words. - -Crescentius shook his head. - -"If such were my desire, the steel of John of the Catacombs were -swifter. No,--it is not like that," he continued musingly, as if -testing the ground inch by inch, as he advanced. "A woman's hand must -lead the youth to the fateful brink. A woman must enwrap him and entrap -him; a woman must cull the hidden secrets from his heart;--a woman must -make him forget time and eternity, forget the volcano, on whose crater -he stands,--until the great bell of the Capitol shall toll the hour of -doom for German dominion in Rome." - -He paused, trembling, lest she might read and anticipate the thoughts of -his heart. - -But she seemed not to guess them, for with a smile she said: - -"They say the boy has never loved." - -"Thereon have I built my plans. Some Circe must be found to administer -to him the fatal lotus,--to estrange him from his country, from his -leaders, from his hosts." - -"But where is one to be trusted so supremely?" she questioned. - -Crescentius had anticipated the question. - -"There is but one in all Rome--but one." - -"And she?" the question came almost in a whisper. "Do you know her?" - -Crescentius breathed hard. For a moment he closed his eyes, praying -inwardly for courage. At last he replied with seeming indifference: - -"I have known her long. She is loyal to Rome and true to herself." - -"Her name?" she insisted. - -"Stephania." - -A wild laugh resounded in the chamber. Its echoes seemed to mock those -two, who faced each other, trembling, colourless. - -"That was Benilo's advice." - -Like a knife-thrust the words from Stephania's lips pierced the heart of -the Senator of Rome. - -Stephania stared at him in such bewilderment, as if she thought him mad. -But when he remained silent, when she read in his downcast eyes the mute -confirmation of his speech, she sprang from her couch, facing him in the -whole splendour of her beauty. - -"Surely you are jesting, my lord, or else you rave, you are mad?" she -cried. "Or can it be, that my ears tinkle with some mockery of the -fiend? Speak! You have not said it! You did not! You dared not." - -She removed a stray lock of hair from her snow white brow, while her -eyes burnt into those of Crescentius, like two orbs of living fire. - -"Your ears did not belie you, Stephania," the Senator said at last. "I -said you are the one--the only one." - -With these words he took her hands in his and attempted to draw her down -beside him, but she tore them from his grasp, while her face alternately -paled and flushed. - -"Nay," she spoke with cutting irony, "the Senator of Rome is a model -husband. He disdains the dagger and poison phial, instead he barters -his wife. You have an admirable code of morality, my lord! 'Tis a pity -I do not share your views, else the fiend might teach me how to profit -by your suggestion." - -Crescentius did not interrupt the flow of her indignation, but his face -betrayed a keenness of anguish which did not escape Stephania's -penetrating gaze. She approached him and laying her hands on his -shoulders bade him look her in the eye. - -"How could you say this to me?" she spoke in softer, yet reproachful -tones. "How could you? Has it come to the pass where Rome can but be -saved by the arts of a wanton? If so, then let Rome perish,--and we -ourselves be buried under her ruins." - -Her eyes reflected her noble, undaunted spirit and never had Stephania -appeared more beautiful to the Senator, her husband. - -"Your words are the seal of loyalty upon your soul, Stephania," -Crescentius replied. "Think you, I would cast away my jewel, cast it -before these barbarians? But you do not understand. I will be more -plain. It was not that part you were to assume." - -Stephania resumed her seat by his side. Her bosom heaved and her eyes -peered dimly through a mist of tears. - -"Of all the hosts who crossed the Alps with him," Crescentius spoke with -a voice, unsteady at first, but gradually gaining the strength of his -own convictions, "none shares the emperor's dreams, none his hopes of -reconstruction. An embassy from the Palatinate is even now on the way, -to demand his return.--Not he! But there is one, the twin of his mind -and soul--Gregory the Pontiff, who will soon have his hands full with a -refractory Conclave, and will not be able to succour his friend in the -realization of his fantastic dreams. He must be encouraged,--his -watchfulness beguiled until we are strong enough to strike the final -blow. Only an intellect equal to his own dares assail the task. He -must be led by a firm hand, by a hand which he trusts--but by a hand -never forgetful of its purpose, a hand closed to bribery of chattel or -soul. He must be ruled by a mind that grasps all the strange -excrescences of his own diseased brain. Let him build up his fantastic -dream-empire, while Rome rallies her forces for a final reckoning, then -let the mirage dissolve. This is the part I had assigned to you. I can -entrust it to none else. Our hopes hang upon the fulfilment. Thus, his -hosts dissatisfied, the electors muttering beyond the Alps, the Romans -awakening to their own disgrace, the king at odds with his leaders and -himself, the pontiff menaced by the hostile Cardinals, there is one hope -left to us, to crush the invaders--our last. If it miscarries,--there -will not be gibbets enough in the Campagna for the heads that will -swing." - -Stephania had gradually regained her composure. Raising her eyes to -those of Crescentius, she said with hesitation: - -"There is truth in your words, but I like not the task. I hate Otto -with all my Roman heart; with all my soul do I hate that boy whose lofty -aims shame our depravity. 'Tis an ill time for masks and mummeries. -Why not entrust the task to the one so eminently fitted for it,--Benilo, -the glittering snake?" - -"There will be work enough for all of us," Crescentius replied -evasively. Somehow he hated to admit even to his wife, that he -mistrusted the Chamberlain's serpent wisdom. He had gone too far. He -dared not recede without betraying his own misgivings. - -Stephania heaved a deep sigh. - -"What would you have me do?" - -"You have so far studiously avoided the king. You have not even -permitted him to feast his eyes on the most beautiful woman in all Rome. -Be gracious to him, enter into his vagaries, point out to him old -temples and forgotten tombs, newly dug-up friezes and musty crypts! -Tell him of our legends and lead him back into the past, from whose -labyrinth no Ariadne will guide him back to the present hour,--It is for -Rome I ask." - -"Truly, were I a man, I would not trap my foe by woman's wiles, as long -as I could grip mace or lance. Is there no man among all these Romans -of yours treacherous enough for the task?" - -"It is even their treachery I dread," replied Crescentius. "Ambition or -the lust of gain may at the last moment carry victory from the field. -My maxim, you know: Trust none--Fear none! These festivities are to -dazzle the aim of suspicion, to attach the people once more to our cause -and to give you the desired opportunity to spread your nets. Then lead -him step for step away from life, until he shall himself become but a -spectre of the past." - -"It is a game unworthy of you and me," Stephania replied after a long -pause. "To beguile a trusting foe--but the end? What is it to be?" - -"Once in the councils of the king, you will lull his suspicions to -slumber! You will counteract the pressure of his flaxen-haired leaders! -You will make him a puppet in your hands, that has no will save yours. -Then sound the watchword: Rome and Crescentius!" - -"I too love glory," Stephania spoke almost inaudibly. "Glory achieved by -valour, not intrigue. Give me time, my lord. As yet I hardly know if I -am fitted for the high mission you have laid out for me. Give me but -time." - -"There shall be no further mention of this matter between us," -Crescentius replied. "You will be worthy of your self and of Rome, -whose fates I have laid into your hands. The task is grave, but great -will be the reward. Where will the present state lead to? Is there to -be no limit to humiliation? Is every rebellion unlawful? Has Fate -stamped on our brow, Suffer and be silent?" - -"For whom then is this comedy to be enacted?" - -Crescentius shrugged his shoulders. - -"Say for ourselves if you will. Deem you, Stephania, I would put my -head in the sling for that howling mob down yonder in their hovels? For -the rabble which would stone him, who gives them bread? Or for the -barons of Rome, who have encroached upon our sovereignty? If Fate will -but grant me victory, their robber dens shall crumble into dust, as if -an earthquake had levelled them. For this I have planned this Comedy of -Love--for this alone." - -Stephania slowly rose from her seat beside the Senator. Every vestige of -colour had faded from her face. - -"Surely I have not heard aright," she said. "Did you say 'Comedy of -Love'?" - -Crescentius laughed, a low but nervous laugh. - -"Why stare you so, Stephania, as if I bade you in all truth to betray -me? Is it so hard to feign a little affection for this wingless cherub -whom you are to mould to your fancies? The choice is his,--until--" - -"Until it is his no longer," Stephania muttered under her breath, which -quickly came and went. - -There was a pause of some duration, during which the Senator of Rome -restlessly paced the apartment. Stephania had resumed her former -station and seemed lost in deep rumination. From without no sounds were -audible. The city slept. The evening star burnt low down in the -horizon. The moon sickle slept on the crests of the mountains of Albano. - -At last Stephania rose and laid her white arm on the shoulder of the -Senator of Rome. - -"I will do your bidding," she said slowly, looking straight into his -eyes, "for the glory of Rome and your own!" - -"For our glory," Crescentius replied with a deep sigh of relief. "I -knew you would not fail me in this hour of need." - -Stephania raised her hand, as if deprecating the reward. - -"For your glory alone, my lord,--it will suffice for both of us," she -replied hurriedly, as her arms sank down by her side. - -"Be it so, since you so wish it," Crescentius replied. "I thank you, -Stephania! And now farewell. It waxes late and grave matters of state -require my instant attention. Await not my return to-night." - -And kissing her brow, Crescentius hurriedly left his wife's apartment -and ascended a spiral stairway, leading to the chamber of his -astrologer. Suddenly he staggered, as if he had seen his own ghost and -turned sick at heart. - -"What have I done!" he gasped, grasping his forehead with both hands. -"What have I done!" - -Was it a presentiment that suddenly rushed over Him, prompting him to -retrace his steps, prompting him to take back his request? For a moment -he wavered. His pride and his love struggled for supremacy,--but pride -conquered. He would not have Stephania think that he feared a rival on -earth. He would not have her believe that he questioned her love. - -After Crescentius had departed from the chamber, Stephania gazed long -and wistfully into the starlit night without, so calm and so serene. - -Then a laugh, wild and shrill, broke from her lips, and sinking back -among her cushions, a shower of tears came to her relief. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *THE SERMON IN THE GHETTO* - - -The Contubernium Hebræorum, as it is loftily styled in the pontifical -edicts of the time, the Roman Ghetto, was a district of considerable -extent, reclaimed originally from the swamps of the Tiber at the foot of -the Capitoline Hill, and surrounded either by lofty walls, or houses -which were not permitted to have even a loop-hole to the exterior. Five -massive gates, guarded by the halberdiers of the Roman magistrate were -opened at sun-rise and closed at sun-set to emit and to receive back -their jealously guarded inmates, objects of unutterable contempt and -loathing with the populace, into whose heart the Catholic Church of the -Middle Ages had infused a veneration and love for the person of the -Redeemer rather than for his attributes, and whose passions and -devotions were as yet unalloyed by the skepticism and indifference which -began to pervade the higher ranks of society in the century of the -Renaissance. - -Three or four times a year, a grand attempt at conversion was made, the -Pope appointing the most renowned ecclesiastics to deliver the sermons. - -On the occasion about to be described towards the end of the year 999, -the Jews had good reason to expect a more than commonly devout throng in -the train of the pontifical delegate. They had prepared accordingly. -Upon entering the gates of the Ghetto the beholder was struck with the -dreary and melancholy aspect of the houses and the emptiness of the -little shops which appeared like holes in the walls. Such precious -wares as they possessed had been as carefully concealed as those they -had abstracted on the eve of their departure from Egypt. The exceeding -narrowness of the streets, which were in some parts scarcely wide enough -to allow two persons to walk abreast, and seemed in a manner arched, -in-as-much as one story extended above the others, increased the -disagreeable effect. Noisome smells greeted the nostrils on every turn -and the flutter of rags from numerous dark lattices seemed to testify to -the poverty within. - -Such the Roman Ghetto appeared on the eve of the great harangue for -which the reigning Pontiff, Gregory V, had, in accordance with the -tradition of the Holy See, delegated the most renowned light of the -church. Not a Jew was to be seen, much less a Jewess, throughout the -whole line of march from the gates of the Ghetto to the large open -square where they held their markets, and where they had been summoned -to assemble in mass. The long narrow and intricate windings misled many -who did not keep pace with the Pope's delegate and his attendants, but -the greater part of the rabble rushed into the square like a mountain -stream, leaping over opposing boulders, shouting, laughing, yelling and -crushing one another, as if they were taking possession of a conquered -city. - -The square itself was paved with volcanic tufa, very unevenly laid. In -the center was a great fountain of granite without the least ornament, -intended exclusively for the use of the inmates of this dreary quarter. -Into this square radiated numberless streets and alleys giving its -disordered architecture the appearance of being reft and split into -chasms, some of the houses being doubtfully propped with timbers. - -Round the fountain stone benches had been arranged with tables of -similar crude material, at which usually sat the Elders, who decided all -disputes, regulated the market and governed this inner empire partly by -the maxims of common sense and justice, partly by the laws prescribed by -their sacred books, severe indeed and executed with rigour, without -provoking a thought of appeal to the milder and often opposing Christian -judicature. - -But now this Sanhedrim was installed in its place of honour for a -different purpose; to hear with outward complacency and inner abhorrence -their ancient law denounced and its abolition or reform advocated. For -this purpose a movable pulpit, which resembled a bronze caldron on a -tripod, carried by four Jewish converts, was duly planted under the -supreme direction of the companion friar of the pontifical delegate, who -ordered its position reversed several times, ere it seemed to suit his -fancy. - -The delegate of the Pope himself, surrounded by the pontifical guards, -was still kneeling in silent prayer, when a stranger, who had followed -the procession from afar, entered the Ghetto, unremarked in the general -tumult and ensconced himself out of observation in a dark doorway. From -his point of vantage, Eckhardt had leisure to survey the whole -pandemonium. On his left there rose an irregular pile of wood-work, -built not without some pretentions to architecture, with quaint carvings -and devices of birds and beasts on the exposed joints and window-frames, -but in a state of ruinous decay. About midheight sloped a pent-house -with a narrow balcony, supported like many of the other buildings by -props of timber, set against it from the ground. The lower part of the -house was closed and barred and had the appearance of having been -forsaken for decades. - -While, himself unseen Eckhardt surveyed every detail of his -surroundings; the preparations for the sermon continued. Beyond the -seats of the Elders was assembled the great mass of those who were to -profit by the exhortation, remarkable for their long unkempt beards, -their glittering eyes and their peculiar physiognomies. - -Beyond the circle of these compelled neophytes a tumultuous mob -struggled for the possession of every point, whence a view of the -proceedings could be obtained, quarrelling, scoffing and buffeting the -unresisting Jews, whose policy it was not to offer the least pretext for -pillage and general massacre, which on these occasions hovered over -their heads by a finer thread than that to which hung the sword of -Damocles. Without expostulations they submitted to the rude swaying of -the mob, to their blows and revilings, opposing to their tormentors a -seemingly inexhaustible endurance. But the horror, anxiety, and rage -which glowed in their bosoms were strongly reflected in their faces, -peering through the smoky glare of innumerable torches, which they were -compelled to exhibit at all the windows of their houses. Engaged in -this office only now and then a woman appeared for a brief instant, for -the most part withered and old, or veiled and muffled with more than -Turkish scrupulousness. - -At last the pulpit was duly hoisted and placed to the satisfaction of -the attending friar. The Pope's delegate having concluded his prayer -arose and two of the Elders advanced, to present him with a copy of the -Old Testament, for from their own laws were they to be refuted. They -offered it with a deep Oriental bend and the humble request, that the -representative of his Holiness, their sovereign, would be pleased to -deliver his message. The monk replied briefly that it was not the -message of any earthly power which he was there to deliver and then -mounted the pulpit by a ladder, which his humbler associate held for -him. The attendant friar then sprinkled a lustration round the pulpit -with a bunch of hyssop, which he had dipped in an urn of holy water. -This he showered liberally upon the Elders who dared not resent it, and -ground their teeth in impotent rage. - -Strangely interested, as Eckhardt found himself in the scene about to be -enacted, watching the rolling human sea under the dark blue night-sky, -he found his own curiosity shared by a second personage, who had taken -his position immediately below the door-way, in which he stood -concealed. This worthy wore a large hat, slouched over his face, which -gave him the appearance of a peasant from the marshes; but his dirty -gray mantle and crooked staff denoted him a pilgrim. Of his features -very little was to be seen, save his glittering minx-eyes. These he -kept fixed on the balcony of the ruined house, which had also attracted -Eckhardt's attention. At other times that worthy's gaze searched the -shadows beneath the gloomy structure with something of mingled scrutiny -and scorn. - -"Surely this boasted steel-hearted knave of yours means to play us -false? Where is the rogue? He keeps us waiting long." - -These words, as Eckhardt perceived, were addressed to an individual, -who, to judge from the mask he wore, did not wish to be recognized. - -"Were it against the fiend, I would warrant him," answered a hushed -voice. "But folks here have a great reverence for this holy man, who -goes to comfort a plague-stricken patient more cheerfully than another -visits his lady-love. And, if he needs must die, were it not wiser to -venture the deed in some of the lonely places he haunts, than here in -the midst of thousands?" - -"Nay," replied his companion in an undertone, every word of which was -understood by his unseen listener. "Here alone can a tumult be raised -without much danger, and as easily quelled. I do not set forests on -fire, to warm my feet. Here they will lay the mischief to the -Jews--elsewhere, suspicion would be quickly aroused, for what bravo -would deem it worth his while to slay a wretched monk?" - -Again the pseudo-pilgrim's associate peered into the shadows. Then he -plucked his companion by the sleeve of his mantle. - -"Yonder he comes--and by all my sins--streaming like a water-dog! Raise -your staff, but no--he sees us," concluded the masked individual, -shrinking back into the shadows. - -Presently a third individual joined the pilgrim and his friend. - -"Don Giovan! Thou dog! How long hast kept me gaping for thee!" the -principal speaker hissed into the bravo's face as he limping approached. -"But, by the mass,--who baptized thee so late in life?" - -There was something demoniacal in the sunken, cadaverous countenance of -John of the Catacombs, as he peered into the speaker's eyes. His -ashen-pale face with the low brow and inflamed eyelids, never more -fittingly illustrated a living sepulchre. He growled some inarticulate -response, half stifled by impotent rage and therefore lost upon his -listener. For at this moment the voice of the preacher was heard above -all the confused noise and din in the large square, reading a Hebrew -text, which he subsequently translated into Latin. It was the powerful -voice of the speaker, which prevented Eckhardt from distinctly hearing -the account which the bravo gave of his forced immersion. But towards -the conclusion of his talk, the pilgrim drew the bravo deeper into the -shadows of the overhanging balcony and now their conversation became -more distinct. - -"Dog of a villain!" he addressed John of the Catacombs. "How dare you -say that you will fail me in this? Have you forgotten our compact?" - -"That I have not, my lord," replied the bravo, shuddering with fear and -the cold of his dripping garments. "But an angel was sent for the -prevention of the deed! No man would have braved John of the Catacombs -and lived." - -"Thou needest not proclaim my rank before all this rabble," growled the -pseudo-pilgrim. "Have I not warned thee, idiot? Deemest thou an angel -would have touched thee, without blasting thee? What had thine -assailant to do to stir up the muddy waves? An angel! Coward? Is the -bribe not large enough? Name thine own hire then!" - -"A pyramid of gold shall not bribe me to it," replied the bravo -doggedly. "But I am a true man and will keep no hire which I have not -earned. So come with me to the catacombs, and I will restore all I have -received of your gold. But the saints protect that holy man--I will not -touch him!" - -The pilgrim regarded the speaker with ill-repressed rage. - -"Holy--maybe--," he sneered, "holy, according to thy country's proverb: -'La Cruz en los pechos, el diablo en los hechos.' Thou superstitious -slave! What has one like thou to fear from either angel or devil?" - -"May my soul never see paradise, if I lift steel against that holy man!" -persisted the bravo. - -"Fool! Coward! Beast!" snarled the pilgrim, gnashing his teeth like a -baffled tiger. "You refuse, when this monk's destruction will set the -mob in such roaring mutiny as will give your noble associates, whom I -see swarming from afar, a chance to commence a work that will enrich you -for ever?" - -"For ever?" repeated the bravo, somewhat dubiously. "But--it is -impossible. See you not he is surrounded by the naked swords of the -guards? I thought he would have come darkling through some narrow lane, -according to his wont, else I should never--moreover I have taken an -oath, my lord, and a man would not willingly damn himself!" - -"Will you ever and ever forget my injunction and how much depends upon -its observance?" snarled the disguised pilgrim, looking cautiously -around. "I warn you again, not to proclaim my rank before all your -cut-throats! You swore," he then continued more sedately, "not to lift -steel against him! But have I not seen you bring down an eagle's flight -with your cross-bow? Where is it?" - -"I have sold it to some foreign lord, from beyond the Alps, where they -love such distant fowling," the bravo replied guardedly. "I for my part -prefer to steal my game with a club, or a dagger." - -"You have no choice! Wait! I think I can yet provide you with a weapon -such as you require! I have for some time observed yonder worthy, -whoever he may be, staring at that old bower, as if it contained some -enchanted princess," said the pilgrim, emerging slightly from under the -shadows of the doorway and beckoning John of the Catacombs to his side. -This movement brought the two--for the third seemed to be engaged in a -look-out for probable danger--closer to Eckhardt, but luckily without -coming in contact with him, for it may be conjectured that he had no -desire to expose himself to a conflict in the dark, with three such -opponents. - -The personage indicated by the disguised pilgrim had indeed for some -time been engaged in scrutinizing the form of a young girl, who, -seemingly attracted by the novelty of the scene below had appeared -behind a window of the apparently deserted house, vainly soliciting her -attentions with gestures and smiles. He was of middling height, but -very stout and burly of frame, a kind of brutal good humour and -joviality being not entirely unmingled with his harsher traits. - -"By the mass!" the disguised pilgrim turned to the object of his -scrutiny, in whom we recognize no lesser a personage than Gian -Vitelozzo, as he cautiously approached and saluted him. "I see your -eyes are caught too!" - -He winked at the window which seemed to hold the fascination for the -other, then nodded approval. - -"Saw you ever a prettier piece of flesh and blood?" - -"Yet she looks more like a waxen image than a woman of the stuff you -mention, Sir Pilgrim," returned the nobleman in a barbarous jargon of -tenth century Latin. - -"She is poisoned by the stench amid which she lives, and it were charity -to take her out of it," replied the pilgrim, with a swift glance at the -cross-bow slung over the other's shoulders. - -"Ay, by the mass! You speak truth!" affirmed Vitelozzo, while a fourth -personage, whom he had not heretofore observed, had during their -discourse emerged from the shadows and had silently joined the survey. - -"Would the whole Ghetto were put to plunder!" sighed the baron, turning -to the pilgrim, "but I am under severe penance now by order of the Vicar -of the Church." - -"You must indeed have wrought some special deed of grace, to need his -intercession," the pilgrim sneered with disgusting familiarity. - -Vitelozzo peered into the face of his interlocutor, doubtful whether to -resent the pleasantry or to feel flattered. Then he shrugged his -shoulders. - -"'Twas but for relieving an old man of some few evil days of pains and -aches," he then replied carelessly. "But since we are at -questioning,--what merit is yours to travel so far with the -cockle-shells? Surely 'twas not just to witness the crumbling of this -planet into its primeval dust?" - -"They say--I killed my brother," replied the disguised pilgrim coldly. - -"Mine was but my uncle," said Vitelozzo eagerly, as if rejoicing in the -comparative inferiority of his crime. "'Tis true he had pampered me, -when a child, but who can wait for ever for an inheritance?" - -"Ay--and old men never die," replied the pseudo-pilgrim gloomily. "You -are a bold fellow and no doubt a soldier too," he continued, simulating -ignorance of the other's rank, in order to gain his point. "I have been -a good part of mine a silly monk. As you see, I am still in the weeds. -Yet I will wager, that I dare do the very thing, which you are even now -but daring to think." - -"What am I thinking then? I pray your worship enlighten my poor -understanding," replied the nobleman sarcastically. - -"You are marking how conveniently those timbers are set to the balcony -of yonder crow's nest, for a man to climb up unobserved, and that you -would be glad if you could summon the courage to scale it to the scorn -of this circumcized mob," said the pilgrim. - -Vitelozzo laughed scornfully. - -"For the fear of it? I have clambered up many a strong wall with only -my dagger's aid, when boiling lead poured down among us like melting -snow and the devil himself would have kept his foot from the ladder. -But," he concluded as if remembering that it behooved not his own -dignity to continue parley with the pilgrim, "who are you, that you dare -bandy words with me?" - -The pilgrim considered it neither opportune nor discreet to introduce -himself. - -"My staff against your cross-bow," he replied boastfully instead. "You -dare not attempt it and I will succeed in it!" - -"By the foul fiend! Not until I have failed," replied Vitelozzo, -colouring. "Hold my cross-bow while I climb. But if you mean mischief -or deceit, know better than to practise it, for I am not what I seem, -but a great lord, who would as soon crack your empty pate as an egg!" - -The pseudo-pilgrim replied apparently with some warmth, but as the -preacher's tone now rose above the surrounding buzz only the conclusion -of his speech was audible, wherein he declared that he would restore the -noble's cross-bow or rouse his friends to his assistance in the event of -danger. This compact concluded Eckhardt noted that the Roman baron gave -his helmet, cross-bow and other accoutrements, which were likely to -prove an impediment, into the care of the pilgrim, and prepared to -accomplish his insolent purpose. - -The disguised pilgrim, whose identity Eckhardt had vainly endeavoured to -establish, now retired instantly and rejoined his companions, who had -been eagerly listening in their concealment under the doorway. The -newcomer, who had for a time swelled their number, had retreated -unobserved after having concluded his observations, as it seemed, to his -satisfaction, for Eckhardt saw him nod to himself ere he vanished from -sight. - -"Here then is a weapon, Don Giovan, if you would not rather have the -point in your own skull," the pilgrim said, handing the bravo a small -bow of peculiar construction which Vitelozzo was wont to carry on his -fowling expeditions, as he styled his nightly excursions. - -"Moreover," the pilgrim continued encouragingly, noting the manifest -reluctance on the part of the bravo, "I have caused you a pretty -diversion. When the tumult, which this villain will raise, shall begin, -you have but to adjust the arrow and watch the monk's associate. When -he raises his hand--let fly!" - -John of the Catacombs shivered, but did not reply, while Eckhardt -scrutinized the monk indicated by the pilgrim, as well as the glare of -the torches and their delusive light would permit. But his face being -averted, he again turned his attention to the trio in the shadows below. - -The pontifical delegate meanwhile continued his sermon as unconcerned as -if his deadliest enemy did not stand close beside him ready to imprint -on his brow the pernicious kiss of Judas. - -"Fear you aught for your foul carcass and the thing you call your soul?" -the pilgrim snarled, seemingly exasperated by the reluctance of the -instrument to obey the master's behest. "Fear you for your salvation, -when so black a wretch as Vitelozzo--for I know the ruffian, who slew -his benefactor,--hazards both for a fool's frolic? The monk is a fair -mark! Look but at him perched in the pulpit yonder, with his arms spread -out as if he would fly straightway to heaven!" - -"He looks like a black crucifixion," muttered the bravo with a shudder. - -"Tush, fool! You can easily conceal yourself in these shadows, for the -blame will fall on the Jews and the uproar which I will raise at -different extremities of the crowd will divert all attention from the -perpetrator of the deed!" - -John of the Catacombs seemed to yield gradually to the force of the -other's arguments. The deed accomplished, it had been agreed that they -would dive into the very midst of the congested throngs and urge the -inflamed minds to the extermination of the hated race of the Ghetto. - -Eckhardt's consternation upon listening to this devilish plot was so -great, that for a time he lost sight of the would-be assailant of the -young girl, whom he was unable to see from his concealment almost -directly beneath the balcony. Again he was staggered by the dilemma -confronting him, how best to direct his energies for the prevention of -the double crime. To rush forth and, giving a signal to the pontifical -guards, to proclaim the intended treachery, would perhaps in any other -country, age or place have been sufficient to counteract the plot. But -in this case it was most likely to secure the triumph of the offenders. -It was far from improbable, that the projectors of this deed of -darkness, upon finding their sinister designs baffled, would fall -combined upon whosoever dared to cross their path, and silence him for -ever ere he had time to reveal their real purpose. In the rancorous -irritation and mutually suspicious state of men's minds the least spark -might kindle a universal blaze. The fears and hatred of both parties -would probably interpret the first flash of steel into a signal for -preconcerted massacre and the very consequences sought to be averted -would inevitably follow. - -A further circumstance which baffled Eckhardt was the cause of the -implacable hatred, which the moving spirit of the trio seemed to bear -the pontifical delegate. But the sagacious intellect of the man into -whose hands fate had so opportunely placed a lever for preventing a -crime, whose consequences it was difficult to even surmise, suggested -these dangers and their remedies almost simultaneously. Thus he -patiently awaited the separation of the colleagues on their several -enterprises, regarding the monk with renewed interest in this new and -appalling light. - -His tall and commanding form was to be seen from every point. The -austerity and gloom of the speaker's countenance only seemed to aid in -displaying more brilliantly the irradiations of the mind which illumined -it. His harangue seemed imbued with something of supernatural -inspiration and dark as had appeared to Eckhardt the motive for the -contemplated crime, the probable reason suddenly flashed through his -mind. For in the pulpit stood Gerbert of Aurillac, Archbishop of -Rheims, Bishop of Ravenna, the teacher of the Emperor, the friend of the -Pontiff, he who was so soon as Sylvester II to be crowned with the -Triple Tiara of St. Peter. - -But there was no time for musing if the double crime was to be -prevented. For John of the Catacombs, who had now turned his back on -the crowds, had possessed himself of Vitelozzo's cross-bow and was -tightening the bow-strings. With equal caution, to avoid betraying his -presence, Eckhardt unsheathed his sword. But the jar of the blade -against the scabbard, though ever so slight, startled the outlaw's -attention. He paused for a moment, listening and glancing furtively -about. Then he muttered to himself: "A rat," and resumed his -occupation, while Eckhardt slowly stepped from his concealment, taking -his station directly behind the kneeling bravo, unseen by the pilgrim -and the latter's silent companion. - -A brilliant glow, emanating from some mysterious source near the monk -and which many afterwards contended as having proceeded directly from -his person, suddenly illumined not only the square, the pontifical -delegate, and the monk, who held his arms aloft as if imploring a -benediction, but likewise the towering form of Eckhardt, leaning on his -bare and glittering brand. - -With a yell as if he had seen a wild beast crouching for its deadly -spring, John of the Catacombs sprang up, only to be instantly struck -down by a mighty blow from the commander's gauntleted hand. He lay -senseless on the ground, covered with blood. The bow had fallen from -his grasp. Setting his foot on the outlaw's breast, Eckhardt hesitated -for a moment whether to rid Rome of so monstrous a villain, or spare -him, in order to learn the real instigators of the crime, when a -piercing shriek from above convinced him that while the bravo had -failed, the high-born ruffian had been more successful. - -There was no time for parley. - -Trampling with his crushing weight over the bravo's breast Eckhardt -turned towards the spot whence the cry of distress had come. An intense -hush fraught with doubts and fears had fallen upon the monk's audience -at the ominous outcry,--a cry which might have been but the signal for -some preconcerted outrage, and the hush deepened when the tall powerful -form of the German leader was seen stalking toward the deserted house -and entering it through a door, which Gian Vitelozzo had forced, the -obstacle which had luckily prevented him from reaching before his -unsuspecting victim. The ruffian could be seen from below, holding in -his arms on the balcony the shrieking and struggling girl, disregarding -in his brutal eagerness all that passed below. Suddenly his shoulder -was grasped as in the teeth of a lion, and so powerful was the pressure -that the noble's arms were benumbed and dropped powerlessly by his side. -Before he recovered from his surprise and could make one single effort -at resistance, Eckhardt had seized him round the waist and hurled him -down on the square amidst a roaring thunder of applause mingled with -howls of derision and rage. Those immediately beneath the balcony, -consisting chiefly of the scum and rabble, who cared little for the -monk's arguments, rejoiced at the prompt retribution meted out to one of -their oppressors, though the discomfiture of the hapless victim had left -them utterly indifferent. Why should they carry their skin to market to -right another's wrong? - -Thus they offered neither obstacle nor assistance when the Roman baron, -in no wise hurt by his fall, as the balcony was at no great height from -the ground, rose in a towering rage and challenged his assailant to -descend and to meet him in mortal combat. But by this time the -disturbance had reached the monk's ears, and at once perceiving the -cause from his lofty point of vantage, Gerbert shouted to his audience -to secure the brawler in the name of God and the Church. The mob -obeyed, though swayed by reluctance and doubts, while the pontifical -guards closed round the offending noble to cut off his escape. But Gian -Vitelozzo seemed to possess sovereign reasons for dreading to find -himself in the custody of the Vicar of the Church and promptly took to -flight. - -Overthrowing the first who opposed him, the rest offering no serious -resistance, he forced his way to one of the narrow passages of the -Ghetto, fled through it, relinquishing his accoutrements and vanished in -the shadows, which haunted this dismal region by day and by night. But -Gerbert of Aurillac was not to be so easily baffled. He had recognized -the Roman baron despite his demeaning attire. With a voice of thunder -he ordered his entire following to the ruffian's pursuit, and noting the -direction in which Vitelozzo had disappeared, he leaped, despite his -advanced years, from his pulpit and waving a cross high in the air, led -the pursuit in person, which inaugurated a general stampede of nobles, -Jews, pilgrims, monks and the ever-present rabble of Rome. - -This unforeseen incident having drawn off the crowd, which had invaded -the Ghetto, in the preacher's wake, the great square was quickly -deserted and the torches in the high windows were extinguished as if a -sudden wind-storm had snuffed out their glowing radiance. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *THE SICILIAN DANCER* - - -After a fruitless search for the hapless victim of the Roman baron's -licentiousness, in order to restore her in safety to her kindred or -friends, Eckhardt concluded at last that she had found a haven of -security and turned his back upon the Ghetto and its panic-stricken -inmates without bestowing another thought upon an incident, in itself -not uncommon and but an evidence of the deep-rooted social disorder of -the times. His thoughts reverted rather to the attempt upon the life of -the pontifical delegate, which some happy chance had permitted him to -frustrate, but in vain did he try to fathom the reasons prompting a -deed, the accomplishment of which seemed to hold out such meagre promise -of reward to its perpetrators, whose persons were enshrouded in a veil -of mystery. Eckhardt could only assign personal reasons to an attempt, -which, if successful, could not enrich the moving spirits of the plot, a -consideration always uppermost in men's minds, and pondering thus over -the strange events, the commander aimlessly pursued his way in a -direction opposite to the one the monk and his following had chosen for -the pursuit of the baron. How long he had thus strolled onward, he knew -not, when he found himself in the space before the Capitol. The moon -gleamed pale as an alabaster lamp in the dark azure of the heavens, -trembling luminously on the waters of a fountain which flowed from -beneath the Capitoline rock. - -Here some scattered groups of the populace sat or lolled on the ground, -discussing the events of the day, jesting, laughing or love-making. -Others paraded up and down, engaged in conversation and enjoying the -balmy night air, tinged with the breath of departing summer. - -Wearied with thought, Eckhardt made his way to the fountain, and, seated -on the margin regardless of the chattering groups which continually -clustered round it and dispersed, he felt his spirits grow calm in the -monotony of the gurgling flow of the water, which was streaming down the -rock and spurting from several grotesque mouths of lions and dolphins. -The stars sparkled over the dark, towering cypresses, which crowned the -surrounding eminences, and the palaces and ruins upon them stood forth -in distinctness of splendour or desolation against the luminous -brightness of the moonlit sky. - -Eckhardt's ruminations were interrupted by the sound of a tambourine, -and looking up from his reverie, he perceived that the populace were -gathering in a wide circle before the fountain, attracted by the sound -of the instrument. In the background, kept thus remote by the vigilance -of an old woman and two half-savage Calabrians, who seemed to be the -proprietors of the show, stood a young woman in the garb of a Sicilian, -apparently just preparing to dance. She seemed to belong to a class of -damsels who were ordained under severe penalties to go masked during all -religious festivals, to protect the pilgrims from the influence of their -baleful charms. Else there could be no reason why an itinerant female -juggler or minstrel who employed the talents, which the harmonious -climate of Italy lavishes on its poorest children, to enable them to -earn a scant living from the rude populace, should affect the modesty or -precaution of a mask. But her tall, voluptuous form as she stood -collecting her audience with the ringing chimes of her tambourine, -garbed as she was in that graceful Sicilian costume, which still retains -the elegance of its Greek original, proved allurement enough despite her -mask. While thus unconsciously diverting his disturbed fancies, -Eckhardt became aware, that he had himself attracted the notice of the -dancer, for he encountered her gaze beaming on him from the depths of -her green-speckled mask, which its ordainer had intended to represent -the corruption of disease, but which the humour of the populace had -transmuted into a more pleasant association, by calling them, "Cardinal -melons." - -The dancer started from her somewhat listless attitude into one of -gayety and animation, when she saw how earnestly the dark stranger -scrutinized her, and tripping across the intervening space, she paused -before him and said in a voice whose music flowed to his heart in its -mingled humility and tenderness: - -"Sainted Stranger! Will you disdain dancing the Tarantella with a poor -Sicilian sinner for the love of Santa Rosalia?" - -"Thou art like to make many for the love of thyself," replied Eckhardt. -"But it were little seemly to behold a sinner in my weeds join in the -dance with one in thine." - -As he spoke, he peered so intently into the masked visage of the -Sicilian dancer, that she precipitately retreated. - -"Nay--then I must use my spells," she replied after a moment's thought, -and glancing round the circle, which was constantly increasing, she -added slowly, "my spells to raise the dead, since love and passion are -dead in your consecrated breast! Mother--my mandolin!" - -The smile of her lips seemed to gleam even through her mask as she threw -her tambourine by its silver chain over her shoulders, taking instead -the instrument, which one of the Calabrians handed to her. Tuning her -mandolin she again turned to Eckhardt. - -"But first you must fairly answer a question, else I shall not know -which of my spells to use: for with some memory alone avails,--with -others hope." - -And without waiting his reply, she began to sing in a voice of -indescribable sweetness. After the second stanza she paused, apparently -to await the reply to her question, while a murmur of delight ran -through the ranks of her listeners. The first sound of her voice had -fixed Eckhardt's attention, not alone for its exquisite purity and -sweetness, but the strange, mysterious air which hovered round her, -despite her demeaning attire. - -Yet his reply partook of the asperity of his Northern forests. - -"Deem you such gossamer subtleties were likely to find anchorage in this -restless breast, which, you hear, I strike and it answers with the sound -of steel?" - -"Nay, then so much the worse for you," replied the dancer. "For where -the pure spirit comes not,--the dark one will," and she continued her -song in a voice of still more mellow and alluring sweetness. - -Suddenly she approached him again, her air more mysterious than ever. - -"Ah!" she whispered. "And I could teach you even a sweeter lesson,--but -you men will never learn it, as long as women have been trying to teach -it on earth." - -"Wherefore then wear you this mask?" questioned Eckhardt with a severity -in his tone, which seemed to stagger the girl. - -"To please one greater than myself," the dancer replied with a mock bow, -which produced a general outburst of laughter. - -"Well then,--what do you want with me? Why do you shrink away?" - -"Nay,--if you will not dance with me, I must look for another partner, -for my mother grows impatient, as you may see by the twirling of her -girdle," replied the girl pettishly. "I never cared who it was -before,--and now simply because I like you, you hate me." - -"You know it is the bite of the poison spider, for which the Tarantella -is the antidote," spoke Eckhardt sternly. - -Without replying the girl began her dance anew, flitting before her -indifferent spectator in a maze of serpentine movements, at once -alluring and bewildering to the eye. And to complete her mockery of his -apathy, she continued to sing even during all the vagaries of her dance. - -The crowd looked on with constantly increasing delight testifying its -enthusiasm with occasional outbursts of joyful acclamation. Showers of -silver, even gold, which fell in the circle, showed that the motley -audience had not exhausted its resources in pious contributions, and the -coins were greedily gathered in by the old woman and her comrades, while -several nobles who had joined the concourse whispered to the hag, gave -her rings and other rich pledges, all of which she accepted, repaying -the donors with the less substantial coin of promise. - -Suddenly the relentless fair one concluded her mazy circles by forming -one with her nude arms over Eckhardt's head and inclining herself -towards him, she whispered a few words into his ear. A lightning change -seemed to come over the commander's countenance, intensifying its -pallor, and struck with the impression she had produced, the Sicilian -continued her importunities, nodding towards the old hag in the -background, until Eckhardt half reluctantly, half wrathfully permitted -himself to be drawn towards the group, of which the old woman formed the -center. Pausing before her and whispering a few words into her ear, -which caused the hag to glance up with a scowling leer, the girl took a -small bronze mirror of oval shape from beneath her tunic and after -breathing upon the surface, requested the old woman to proceed with the -spell. The two Calabrians hurriedly gathered some dried leaves, which -they stuffed under a tripod, that seemed to constitute the entire -stock-in-trade of the group. After placing thereon a copper brazier, on -which the old woman scattered some spices, the latter commanded the girl -to hold the mirror over the fumes, which began to rise, after the two -Calabrians had set the leaves on fire. The flames, which greedily -licked them up, cast a strange illumination over the scene. The crowds -attracted by the uncommon spectacle pushed nearer and nearer, while -Eckhardt watched the process with an air of ill-disguised impatience and -annoyance leaning upon his huge brand. - -The old woman was mumbling some words in a strange unintelligible jargon -and the Calabrians were replenishing the consumed leaves with a new -supply they had gathered up, when Eckhardt's strange companion drawing -closer, whispered to him: - -"Now your wish! Think it--but do not speak!" - -Eckhardt nodded, half indifferently, half irritated, when the girl -suddenly held the bronze mirror before his eyes and bade him look. But -no sooner had he obeyed her behest, than with an outcry of amazement he -darted forward and fairly captured his unsuspecting tormentor. - -"Who are you?" he questioned breathlessly, "to read men's thoughts and -the silent wish of their heart?" - -But in his eagerness he probably hurt the girl against the iron scales, -of whose jangling he had boasted, for she uttered a cry and called in -great terror: "Rescue--Rescue!" - -Before the words were well uttered the two Calabrians rushed towards -them with drawn daggers. The mob also raised a shout and seemed to -meditate interference. This uproar changed the nature of the dancer's -alarm. - -"In our Holy Mother's name--forbear--" she addressed the two Calabrians, -and the mob, and turning to her captor, she muttered in a tone of almost -abject entreaty: - -"Release me--noble stranger! Indeed I am not what I seem, and to be -recognized here would be my ruin. Nay--look not so incredulous! I have -but played this trick on you, to learn if you indeed hated all -woman-kind. You think me beautiful,--ah! Could you but see my -mistress! You would surely forget these poor charms of mine." - -"And who is your mistress?" questioned Eckhardt persisting in his -endeavour to remove her mask, and still under the spell of the strange -and to him inexplicable vision in the bronze mirror. - -[Illustration: Persisting in his endeavour to remove her mask.] - -"Mercy--mercy! You know it is a grievous offence to be seen without my -Cardinal melon," pleaded the girl with a return of the wiling witchery -in her tones and attempting, but in vain, to release herself from -Eckhardt's determined grasp. - -"Who is your mistress?" insisted the Margrave. "And who are you?" - -"Release the wanton! How dare you, a soldier of the church, break the -commands of the Apostolic lieutenant?" exclaimed a husky voice and a -strong arm grasped Eckhardt's shoulder. Turning round, the latter saw -himself confronted by the towering form of the monk Nilus, who seemed -ignorant of the person and rank of him he was addressing and whose -countenance flamed with fanatic wrath. - -"Ay! And it hath come to my turn to rescue damsels, and moreover to -serve the church," added another speaker in a bantering tone and -Eckhardt instantly recognized the Lord Vitelozzo, who having eluded the -pursuit of the monk of Cluny, held a mace he had secured in lieu of his -cross-bow high and menacingly in the air. - -"Friar, look to your ally, if such he be, lest I do what I should have -done before and make a very harmless rogue of him," said Eckhardt, -holding the girl with one hand while with the other he unsheathed his -sword. - -"Peace, fool!" the monk addressed his would-be ally, drawing him back -forcibly. "The church needs not the aid of one rogue to subdue another. -Let the girl go, my son!" he then turned to the Margrave. - -"Nay, father--by these bruises, which still ache, I will retrieve my -wrong and rescue the wench," insisted the Roman, again raising his -massive weapon, but the monk and some bystanders wedged themselves -between Eckhardt and his opponent. - -"Nay, then, now we are like to have good sport," exclaimed a fourth. "A -monk, a woman and a soldier,--it requires not more to set the world -ablaze." - -"Stranger,--I implore you, release me," whispered Eckhardt's captive -with frantic entreaty amidst the ever increasing tumult of the -bystanders, who appeared to be divided, some favouring the monk, while -others sided with the girl's captor, whose intentions they sorely -misconstrued. "I would not stand revealed to yonder monk for all the -world!" concluded the girl in fear-struck tones. - -At this moment a cry among the bystanders warned Eckhardt that -Vitelozzo's wrath had at length mastered every effort to restrain him, -and, whirling round, to defend himself he was compelled to release the -girl. But instead of making the use she might have been expected to do -of her liberty, she called to the monk, to part the combatants in the -name of the saints. - -But it required no expostulation on the part of the friar, for when -Eckhardt turned fully upon him, Vitelozzo, for the first time -recognizing his antagonist, beat a precipitate retreat, but at some -distance he turned, shouting derisively: - -"An olive for a fig! Your dove has flown!" and when Eckhardt, -recovering from his surprise, wheeled about, he found, much to his -chagrin, the Roman's words confirmed by the absence of the girl as well -as of her associates, who managed to make their escape at the moment -when the impending encounter had momentarily drawn off the attention of -the crowd. - -"The devil can speak truth, they say, though I believed it not till -now," muttered Eckhardt to himself as, vexed and mystified beyond -measure, he strode through the scattering crowds. - -Had it been some jeer of the fiend? Had he been made the victim of some -monstrous deceit? - -Who was the Sicilian dancer, whose manners and golden language belied -her demeaning attire, whose strange eyes had penetrated into the -darkness of his soul, whose voice had thrilled him with the echoes of -one long silent and forever? - -The magic mirror in which, as in a haze, he had seen the one face he -most longed to see,--the strange and sudden fulfillment of the unspoken -wish of his heart,--the dancer's marked persistence in the face of his -declared abhorrence,--her mask and her incongruous companions,--her fear -of the monk and concern for himself,--all these incidents, which one by -one floated on the mirror of his memory, rose ever and anon before his -inner gaze--each time more mystifying and bewildering. - -In deep rumination Eckhardt pursued his way, gazing absently upon the -roofless columns and shattered walls, everywhere visible, over which the -star-light shone--ghostly and transparent, backed by the frowning and -embattled fortresses of the Cavalli, half hidden by the dark foliage -that sprang up amidst the very fanes and palaces of old. Now and then -he paused with a deep and heavy sigh, as he pondered over the dark and -desolate path upon which he was about to enter, over the lack of a -guiding hand in which he might trust, over the uncertainty of the step, -which, once taken was beyond recall. - -Suddenly a light caught the solitary rambler's eye, a light almost like -a star, scarcely larger indeed, but more red and intense in its ray. Of -itself it was nothing uncommon and might have shone from either convent -or cottage. But it streamed from a part of the Aventine, which -contained no habitations of the living, only deserted ruins and -shattered porticoes of which even the names and memories of their former -inhabitants had been long forgotten. Aware of this, Eckhardt felt a -slight awe, as the light threw its unsteady beam over the dreary -landscape; for he was by no means free from the superstition of the age -and it was near the hour consecrated to witches and ghosts. - -But fear, whether of this world or the next, could not long daunt the -mind of the Margrave; and after a brief hesitation he resolved to make a -digression from his way, to discover the cause of the phenomenon. -Unconsciously Eckhardt's tread passed over the site of the ill-famed -temple of Isis which had at one time witnessed those wildest of orgies -commemorated by the pen of Juvenal. At last he came to a dense and dark -copse from an opening in the center of which gleamed the mysterious -light. Penetrating the gloomy foliage Eckhardt found himself before a -large ruin, grey and roofless. Through a rift in the wall, forming a -kind of casement and about ten feet from the ground, the light gleamed -over the matted and rank soil, embedded, as it were, in vast masses of -shade. Without knowing it, Eckhardt stood on the very spot once -consecrated to the cult of the Egyptian goddess, and now shunned as an -abode of evil spirits. The walls of the ruin were covered with a dense -growth of creepers, which entwined even the crumbled portico to an -extent that made it almost impossible to penetrate into its intricate -labyrinth of corridors. - -While indulging in a thousand speculations, occasioned by the hour and -the spot, Eckhardt suddenly perceived a shadow in the portico. Only the -head was visible in the moonlight, which bathed the ruin, and it -disappeared almost as quickly as it had been revealed. While meditating -upon the expediency of exploring the mystery which confronted him, -Eckhardt was startled by the sound of footsteps. Straining his gaze -through the haze of the moonlight he beheld emerging from the portico of -the temple the tall form of a man, wrapt in a long black cloak. He wore -a conical hat with sloping brim which entirely shadowed his face and on -his right arm he carried the apparently lifeless body of a girl. With -the object of preventing a probable crime Eckhardt stepped from his -place of concealment just as the stranger was about to pass him with his -mysterious burden and placed his hands arrestingly on the other's -shoulder. - -"Who are you? And what is your business here?" he questioned curtly, -attempting to remove the stranger's vizor. - -"The one matters little to your business,--the other little to mine," -the tall individual replied enigmatically while he dexterously resisted -his questioner's effort to gain a glimpse at his face. "But," he added -in a strange oracular tone, which moved Eckhardt despite himself, "if -you value my aid in your hour of trial--assist me now in my hour of -need!" - -"Your aid?" echoed Eckhardt, staring amazed at his companion. "Do you -know me? In what can you assist me?" - -"You are Eckhardt the Margrave," replied the stranger; then inclining -his head slightly towards him he whispered a word, the effect of which -seemed to paralyze his listener, for his arresting hand fell and he -retreated a step or two, surveying him in speechless wonder. - -"Who are you?" he stammered at last. - -The stranger raised the long visor of his conical hat. An exclamation -of surprise came from Eckhardt's lips. - -"Hezilo, the harper!" - -The other replied with a silent nod. - -"And we have never met!" - -"I seldom go out!" said the harper. - -"What know you of Ginevra?" begged the Margrave. - -The harper shook his head. - -"This is neither the time, nor the place. I must be gone--to shelter my -burden! We shall meet again! If you follow me," he concluded, noting -Eckhardt's persistence, "you will learn nothing and only endanger my -safety and that of this child!" - -"Is she dead?" Eckhardt questioned with a shudder. - -"Would she were!" replied the stranger mournfully. - -"Can I assist you?" - -"I thank you! The burden is light. We will meet again." - -There was something in the harper's tone which arrested Eckhardt's -desire to ignore his injunction. How long he remained on the site of -the ill-famed ruin, the Margrave hardly knew. When the fresh breeze of -night, blowing from the Campagna, roused him at last from his reverie -the mysterious stranger and his equally mysterious burden had -disappeared in the haze of the moonlit night. Like one walking in a -dream Eckhardt slowly retraced his steps to his palace on the Caelian -Mount, where an imperial order sanctioning his purpose and relieving him -of his command awaited him. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *NILUS OF GAËTA* - - -A grand high mass in honour of the pilgrims was on the following eve to -be celebrated in the ancient Basilica of St. Peter's. But vast as was -its extent, only a part of the pilgrims could be contained and the -bronze gates were thrown open to allow the great multitude which filled -the square to share the benefits and some of the glories of the -ceremony. - -The Vatican Basilica of the tenth century, far from possessing its -present splendour, was as yet but the old consecrated palace, hallowed -by memories of the olden time, in which Charlemagne enjoyed the -hospitality of Leo III, when at his hands he received the imperial crown -of the West. Similar to the restored church of St. Paul fuori le Mure, -as we now see it, it was some twenty feet longer and considerably wider, -having five naves divided off by four rows of vast monolith columns. -There were ninety-six columns in all, of various marbles, differing in -size and style, for they had been the first hasty spoils of antique -palaces and temples. The walls above the order of columns were -decorated with mosaics such as no Roman hand could then produce or even -restore. A grand arch, such as we see at the older Basilicas to-day, -inlaid with silver and adorned with mosaic, separated the nave from the -chancel, below which was the tribune, an inheritance from the prætor's -court of old. It now contained the high altar and the sedile of the -Vicar of Christ. Before the altar stood the Confession, the vault -wherein lay the bones of St. Peter, with a screen of silver crowned with -images of saints and virgins. And the whole was illumined by a gigantic -candelabrum holding more than a thousand lighted tapers. - -The chief attraction, however, was yet wanting, for the pontiff and his -court still tarried in the Vatican receiving the homage of the foreign -pilgrims. While listlessly noting the preparations from his chosen -point of vantage, Eckhardt discovered himself the object of scrutiny on -the part of a monk, who had been listlessly wandering about and who -disappeared no sooner than he had caught the eye of the great leader. - -Unwilling to continue the target of observation on the part of those who -recognized him despite his closed visor, Eckhardt entered the Basilica -and took up his station near a remote shrine, whence he could witness -the entrance of the pontifical procession, without attracting undue -attention to his person. When the pontifical train did appear, it seemed -one mass of glitter and sumptuous colour, as it filed down the aisles of -the Basilica. The rich copes of the ecclesiastics, stiff with gold and -gorgeous brocade, the jewelled mantles of the nobles, the polished -breast plates and tasselled spears of the guards passed before his eyes -in a bewildering confusion of splendour. In his gilded chair, under a -superb canopy, Gregory, the youthful pontiff, was borne along, -surrounded by a crowd of bishops, extending his hands in benediction as -he passed the kneeling worshippers. - -An infinite array of officials followed. Then came pilgrims of the -highest rank, each order marching in separate divisions, in the -fantastic costumes of their respective countries. In their wake marched -different orders of monks and nuns, the former carrying torches, the -latter lighted tapers, although the westering sun still flamed down the -aisles in cataracts of light. After these fraternities and sisterhoods, -Crescentius, the Senator, was seen to enter with his suite, conspicuous -for the pomp of their attire, the taste of Crescentius being to sombre -colours. - -Descending from his elevated station, Gregory proceeded to officiate as -High Priest in the august solemnity. Come with what prejudices one -might, it was not in humanity to resist the impressions of overwhelming -awe, produced by the magnificence of the spectacle and the sublime -recollections with which the solemnity itself in every stage is -associated. Despite his extreme youth, Gregory supported all the -venerableness and dignity of the High Priest of Christendom and when at -the conclusion of the high mass he bestowed his benediction on all -Christendom, Eckhardt was kneeling with the immense multitude, perhaps -more convinced than the most enthusiastic pilgrim, that he was receiving -benediction direct from heaven. - -The paroxysm only subsided, when raising his head, he beheld a gaunt -monk in the funereal garb of the brotherhood of Penitent Friars ascend -the chancel. He was tall, lean as a skeleton and from his shrivelled -face two eyes, sunken deep in their sockets, burnt with the fire of the -fanatic. This was the celebrated hermit, Nilus of Gaëta, of whose life -and manners the most wonderful tales were current. He was believed to -be of Greek extraction, perhaps owing to his lengthy residence in -Southern Italy, near the shrines of Monte Gargano in Apulia. In the -pursuit of recondite mysteries of the Moorish and Cabalistical schools, -he had attained such proficiency, that he was seized with a profound -disgust for the world and became a monk. Several years he spent in -remote and pagan lands, spreading the tidings of salvation, until, as it -was whispered, he received an extraordinary call to the effect, as was -more mysteriously hinted, to turn the church from diverse great errors, -into which she had fallen, and which threatened her downfall. Last, not -least, he was to prepare the minds of mortal men for the great -catastrophe of the Millennium,--the End of Time, the end of all earthly -vanity. Special visions had been vouchsafed him, and there was that in -his age, in his appearance and his speech which at once precluded the -imposter. Nilus of Gaëta himself believed what he preached. - -There was a brief silence, during which the Romans acquainted their -foreign guests in hurried whispers with the name and renown of the -reputed hermit. The latter stood motionless in the chancel and seemed -to offer up a silent prayer, ere he pronounced his harangue. - -His sermon was delivered in Latin, still the common language of Italy, -even in its corrupt state, and its quality was such as to impress at -once the most skeptical with the extraordinary gifts of the preacher. - -The monk began with a truly terrific picture of the state of society and -religion throughout the Christian world, which he delineated with such -gloom and horror, that but for his arabesque entanglement and his -gorgeousness of imagery one might have believed him a spirit of hell, -returned to paint the orb of the living with colours borrowed from its -murkiest depths. But with all the fantastic convolutions of his -reasoning the fervour of a real eloquence soon began to overflow the -twisted fountains, in which the scholastic rhetoric of the time usually -confined its displays. These qualities Nilus especially exhibited when -describing the pure dawn of Christianity, in which the pagan gods had -vanished like phantoms of night. He declared that they were once more -deified upon earth and the clear light all but extinguished. And -treating the antique divinities as impersonations of human passions and -lusts, the monk's eloquence suddenly took the most terrible tints, and -considering the nature of some of the crimes which he thus delineated -and anathematized, his audience began to suspect personal allusions of -the most hideous nature. - -After this singular exordium, the monk proceeded in his harangue and it -seemed as if his words, like the lava overflow from a volcano, withered -all that was green and flowery in their path. The Universe in his -desponding eloquence seemed but a vast desolation. All the beautiful -illusions which the magic of passion conjures into the human soul died -beneath his touch, changing into the phantoms, which perhaps they are. -The vanity of hope, the shallowness of success, the bitterness which -mingles with the greatest glory, the ecstasy of love,--all these the -monk painted in the most powerful colours, to contrast them with the -marble calm of that drooping form crucified upon the hill of Calvary. - -Spellbound, the immense multitude listened to the almost superhuman -eloquence of the friar. As yet his attacks had dealt only in -generalities. The Senator of Rome seemed to listen to his words with a -degree of satisfaction. A singularity remarked in his character by all -his historians, which, by some, has been considered as proof of a nature -not originally evil, was his love of virtue in the abstract. Frequent -resolutions and recommendations to reform were perhaps only overcome by -his violent passions, his ambition and the exigencies of his ambiguous -state between church and empire. But as the monk detailed the crimes -and monstrosities of the age, the calm on the Senator's face changed to -a livid, satirical smile, and occasionally he pointed the invectives of -the friar by nodding to those of his followers who were supposed to be -guilty of the crimes alleged, as if to call upon them to notice that -they were assailed, and many a noble shrank behind his neighbour whose -conscience smote him of one or all the crimes enumerated by Nilus. - -In one of his most daring flights the monk suddenly checked himself and -announcing his vision of impending judgment, he bid his listeners -prepare their souls in a prophetic and oracular tone, which was -distinctly audible, amid all the muttering which pervaded the Basilica. - -A few moments of devout silence followed. The monk was expected to -kneel, to offer up a prayer for divine mercy. But he stood motionless -in the chancel, and after waiting a short time, Gregory turned to an -attendant: - -"Go and see what ails the disciple of Benedict,--we will ourselves say -the Gratias." - -After rising, he stepped to the altar with the accustomed retinue of -cardinals and prelates and chanted the benediction. At the conclusion -Crescentius approached the altar alone, demanded permission to make a -duteous offering and emptied a purse of gold on the salver. - -"A most princely and regal benefaction," muttered the Pontifical -Datary--"a most illustrious example." - -"Charlemagne gave more, but so will I, when like him I come to receive -the crown of the West," muttered the Senator of Rome. His example was -immediately followed, and in a few moments the altar was heaped round -with presents of extraordinary magnificence and bounty. Sacks of gold -and silver were emptied out, jewels, crucifixes, relics, amber, -gold-dust, ivories, pearls and rare spices were heaped up in promiscuous -profusion, and in return each donor received a branch of consecrated -palm from the hand of the Datary, whose keen eyes reflected the -brightness of the treasures whose receipts he thus acknowledged. - -The chant from various chapels now poured down the aisles its torrents -of melody, the vast multitudes joining in the Gloria in Excelsis. -Eckhardt's remote station had not permitted him to witness all that had -happened. His gaze was still riveted on the friar, who was now -staggering from the pulpit, when a terrific event turned and absorbed -his attention. - -The great bell of the Basilica was tolling and the vibration produced by -so many sounds shook the vast and ancient pile so violently that a -prodigious mass of iron, which formed one of the clappers of the bell, -fell from the belfry in the airy spire and dashing with irresistible -force through every obstruction, reached the floor at the very feet of -the Pontiff, crushing a deep hole in the pavement and throwing a million -pieces of shattered marble over him and his retinue. - -The vast assembly was for a moment motionless with terror and surprise, -expecting little less than universal destruction in the downfall of the -whole edifice on their heads, with all its ponderous mass of iron and -stone. A cry arose that the Pontiff had been killed, which was echoed -in a thousand varying voices, according as men's fears or hopes -prevailed. But in the first moment of panic, when it was doubtful -whether or not the entire center of the Basilica would crumble upon the -assembly, Eckhardt had rushed from the comparative safety of his own -station to the side of the Pontiff as if to shield him, when with the -majesty of a prophet interposing between offended heaven and the object -of its wrath, Gerbert of Aurillac uttered with deep fervour and amid -profound silence a De Profundis. The multitudes were stilled from their -panic, which might have been attended with far more serious consequences -than the accident itself. There was a solemn pause, broken only by a -sea-like response of "Amen"--and a universal sigh of relief, which -sounded like the soughing of the wind in a great forest. - -All distinctions of rank seemed blotted out in that supreme moment. -Then the voice of Nilus was heard thundering above the breathless calm, -while he held aloft an ebony crucifix, in which he always carried the -host: - -"The summits of St. Peter still stand! When they too fall, pilgrims of -the world--even so shall Christendom fall with them." - -At a sign from the Pontiff his attendants raised aloft the canopy, under -which he had entered. But he refused to mount the chair and heading the -bishops and cardinals, he left the church on foot. The Datary gave one -look of hopeless despair, as the masses crowded out of the Basilica, and -abandoned all hope of restoring order. In an incredibly short time the -vast area was emptied, Crescentius being one of the last to remain in -its deepening shadows. With a degree of vacancy he gazed after the -vanishing crowds, more gorgeous in their broken and mingled pomp, as -they passed out of the high portals, than when marshalled in due rank -and order. - -He too was about to leave, when he discerned a monk who stood gazing, as -it were, incredulously at the shattered altar-pavement and the mass of -iron deeply embedded in it. Hastily he advanced towards him, but as he -approached he was struck by observing the monk raise his eyes, sparkling -with mad fury, to the lighted dome above and clench his hands as if in -defiance of its glory. - -"Thou seemest to hold thy life rather as a burden than a blessing, monk, -since thus thou repayest thy salvation," Crescentius addressed the -friar, somewhat staggered by his attitude. - -"Ay! If I have done Heaven a temporal injury,--be comforted, ye -saints--for ye have wrought me an eternal one!" growled the monk between -clenched teeth. - -"Heaven?" questioned Crescentius, almost tempted to the conclusion that -the monk, whoever he was, was out of his senses. - -"Even Heaven," replied the monk. "One cubit nearer the altar,--I -thought the struggle over in my soul between the dark angel and the -bright--I had strung my soul to its mighty task,--yet I shrank from it, -a second, and more cowardly Judas." - -Crescentius gazed at the friar without grasping his meaning. - -"Take thy superior out of the church, he is mad and blasphemes," he -turned to the monk's companion who listened stolidly to his raving. - -"Ay!" spoke the strange monk, gnashing his teeth and shaking his fist -towards heaven, "even the church shall anon be rent in twain and form a -chasm, down which countless generations shall tumble into the -abyss--'twere just retribution!" - -"Tell me but this, monk, how could Heaven itself throw obstacles in the -way of thine intent?" questioned Crescentius, perceiving that the monk -had turned to depart and more convinced than ever that he was speaking -to a madman. - -"How? How? Oh, thou slow of understanding,--how?" - -And the monk pointed downward, to the crushed and shattered marble of -the pavement, in which the iron clapper of the bell lay embedded. - -Crescentius receded involuntarily before the fierce, insane gleam in the -monk's eyes, while the terrible import of his speech suddenly flashed -upon his understanding. Crossing himself, he left the strange friar to -himself and passed swiftly through the motley crowds which were waiting -their turn of admission to the subterranean chapel of the Grand -Penitentiarius. - -Another had remained in the dense gloom of the Basilica, though he had -not witnessed the scene which had just come to a close. After the -Pontiff's departure, Eckhardt had retired to the shrine of Saint -Michael, where he knelt in silent prayer. His mind was filled with -fantastic imaginings, inspired chiefly by his recent pilgrimage to the -shrines of Monte Gargano. The deep void within him made itself doubly -felt in this hour and more than ever he felt the need of divine -interposition in order to retain that consciousness of purpose which was -to guide his future course. - -At last he arose. A remote chant fell upon his ears, and he saw a -procession moving slowly from the refectory into the nave of the -Basilica. By the dusky glare of the torches, which they carried, -Eckhardt distinguished a number of penitent friars, bearing aloft the -banner, destined in after-generations to become the standard of the Holy -Inquisition, a Red Cross in a black field with the motto: "In Hoc Signo -Vinces." Among them and seemingly the chief personage, strode the -strange friar. With down-cast head and eyes he walked, eyes which, -while they seemed fixed on the ground in self-abasement, stealthily -scanned the features of those he passed. - -"I marvel the holy saints think it worth while to trouble themselves -about the soul of every putrid, garlic-chewing knave," said an old -beggar on the steps of the Cathedral to an individual with whose brief -review Eckhardt was much struck. He was a man past the middle-age, with -the sallow complexion peculiar to the peasants of the marshes. His -broad hat, garnished with many coloured ribbons, was drawn over his -visage, though not sufficiently so, to conceal the ghastly scars, with -which it was disfigured. His lurking, suspicious eye and the peculiar -manner with which, from habit, he carried his short cloak drawn over his -breast, as if to conceal the naked stiletto, convinced Eckhardt that, -whatsoever that worthy might assume to be, he was one of those blackest -of the scourges of Italy, which the license of the times had rendered -fearfully numerous, the banditti and bravi. - -"Whether the saints care or no," that individual returned, "the monk is -competent to convert the fiend himself. What an honour for the -brotherhood to have produced such a saint." - -Scarcely bestowing more than a thought upon so usual an evidence of -social disorder, which neither pontifical nor imperial edicts had been -able to correct, Eckhardt passed out, without noticing that he had -himself attracted at least equal attention from the worthy described, -who after having satisfied his curiosity, slunk back among the crowds -and was lost to sight. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *RED FALERNIAN* - - -The palace of Theodora resounded with merriment, though it was long past -midnight. - -Round a long oval table in the great hall sat a score or more of belated -revellers, their Patrician garbs in disorder, and soiled with wine, -their faces inflamed, their eyes red and fiery, their tongues heavy and -beyond the bounds of control. Here and there a vacant or overturned -chair showed where a guest had fallen in the debauch, and had been -permitted to remain on his self-chosen bed of repose. A band of players -hidden in a remote gallery still continued to fill up the pauses in the -riotous clamour with their barbaric strains. - -At the head of the table, first in place as in rank sat Benilo, the -Chamberlain. He seemed to take little interest in the conversation, -for, resting his head on his hands, he stared into his untouched goblet, -as if he endeavoured to cast some augury from the rising and vanishing -bubbles of the wine. - -Next to him sat Pandulph, Lord of Spoleto and Beneventum. His low, -though well-set figure, dark hair, keen, black eyes and swarthy features -bespoke his semi-barbaric extraction. His countenance was far from -comely, when in repose, even ugly and repulsive, but in his eyes lay the -force of a powerful will and a depth and subtlety of intellect, that -made men fear, when they could not love him. On the right of the Count -sat the Lord of Civitella, a large, sensual man, with twinkling grey -eyes, thick nose and full red lips. His broad face, flushed with wine, -glowed like the harvest moon rising above the horizon. Opposite him sat -the Patricius Ziazo, crafty and unscrupulous, a parasite who flattered -whosoever ministered to his pleasure. The Patricius was conversing with -an individual who outshone Pandulph in rapine, the Lord of Civitella in -coarseness and himself in sycophancy, Guido of Vanossa, an arrogant -libertine, whose pinched features and cunning leer formed the true index -to his character. The Lords of Sinigaglia, Torre del Grecco, Bracciano, -Cavallo and Caetano swelled the roll of infamy on the boards of -Theodora,--worthy predecessors of the Orsini and Savelli, who were to -oppress the city in after time. - -Among those who had marked the beginning of the evening by more than -ordinary gaiety, Benilo had by his splendid dissipation excited the -general envy and admiration among his fellow revellers. His face was -inflamed, his dark eyes were glittering with the adder tongues of the -serpent wine, and his countenance showed traces of unlimited debauchery. -It seemed to those present, as if the ghost of the girl Nelida, whom he -had killed in this very hall, was haunting him, so madly did he respond -to the challenges from all around, to drink. But as the wine began to -flood every brain, as the hall presented a scene of riotous debauch, his -former reckless mood seemed for the nonce to have changed to its very -opposite. Through the fumes of wine the dead girl seemed to regard him -with sad, mournful eyes. - -"Fill the goblets," cried Pandulph, with a loud and still clear voice. -"The lying clock says it is day. But neither cock-crows nor clock -change the purple night to dawn in the Groves of Theodora, save at the -will of the Goddess herself. Fill up, companions! The lamp-light in the -wine cup is brighter than the clearest sun that ever shone." - -"Well spoken, Pandulph! Name the toast and we will pledge it, till the -seven stars count fourteen and the seven hills but one," said the -Cavallo looking up. "I see four hour glasses even now and every one of -them lies, if it says it is dawn." - -"You shall have my toast," said Pandulph, raising his goblet. "We have -drunk it twenty times already, but we will drink it twenty times -more:--the best prologue to wine ever devised by wit of man--Woman." - -A shadow moved in the dusky background and peered unseen into the hall. - -"And the best epilogue," replied the Lord of Civitella, visibly drunk. -"But the toast--my cup is waiting." - -"To the health--wealth--and love by stealth of Theodora!" yelled -Pandulph, gulping down the contents of his goblet. - -Benilo's face turned ashen pale, but he smiled. - -"To Theodora!" - -Every tongue repeated the name, the goblets were drained. - -"My Lord, it is your turn now," said Pandulph, turning to the Lord of -Civitella. "The good folks of Urbino have not yet rung the fire-bells -against you, but some say they soon will. Who shall it be?" - -The Lord of Civitella filled up his cup with unsteady hand, until it was -running over and propping his body against the table as he stood up, he -said: - -"A toast to Roxané! And as for my foragers--they sweep clean." - -The toast was drunk with rapturous applause. - -"Right you are," bellowed the Cavallo. "Better brooms were never made -on the Posilippo,--not a straw lies in your way." - -"Did you accomplish it without fight?" sneered the Lord of Bracciano. - -"Fight? Why fight? The burghers never resist a noble! We conjure the -devil down with that. When we skin our eels, we don't begin at the -tail." - -"Better to steal the honey, than to kill the bees that make it." - -"But what became of the women and children after this swoop of your -foragers?" asked the Lord of Bracciano, who appeared to entertain some -few isolated ideas of honour floating on the top of the wine he had -gulped down. - -"The women and children?" replied the Lord of Civitella with a mocking -air, crossing his thumbs, like the peasants of Lugano, when they wish to -inspire belief in their words. "They can breakfast by gaping! They can -eat wind, like the Tarentines,--it will make them spit clear." - -The Lord of Bracciano, irritated at the mocking sign and proverbial -allusion to the gaping propensities of the people round the Lago, -started up in wrath and struck his clenched fist on the table. - -"My Lord of Civitella," he cried, "do not cross your damned thumbs at -me, else I will cut them off! The people of Bracciano have still corn -in plenty, until your thieving bands scorch their fingers in the attempt -to steal it." - -Andrea Cavallo interposed to stop the rising quarrel. - -"Do not mind the Lord of Civitella," he whispered to Bracciano. "He is -drunk!" - -"The rake! The ingrate!" growled Bracciano, "after my men opened the -traps, in which the Vicar of the Church had caught him." - -"Nay! If you gape at man's ingratitude, your mouth will be wide enough, -ere you die, my lord," spoke Pandulph with a sardonic laugh. "And men -in our day stand no more on precedence in plots than in love -affairs,--do they, my lord Benilo?" - -"Nay, I'll dispute no man's right to be hanged or quartered before -me--least of all yours, my Lord Pandulph," the Chamberlain replied -venomously. - -"My lord Benilo," replied Pandulph, "you are, when drunk, the greatest -ruffian in Christendom, and the biggest knave when sober. Bring in more -tankards, and we will not look for day till midnight booms again on the -old tower of San Sebastian! I call for full brimmers, varlets,--bring -your largest cups! We will drink another toast five fathoms deep in -wine, strong enough to melt Cleopatra's pearls, and to a jollier dame -than Egypt's queen." - -The servitors flew out and in. In a few moments the table was -replenished with huge drinking cups, silver flagons and all the heavy -impediments of the army of Bacchus. - -"We drink to the Fair Lady of the Groves,--and in her presence, too!" -shouted the Lord of Spoleto, raising his goblet anew. "Why is she not -among us? They say," he turned to Benilo with a sneer, "that you are so -jealous of the charms of your bird of paradise, that you have forbidden -her to appear before your friends." - -Roaring peals of laughter crowned Pandulph's speech. - -Benilo saw the absurdity of anger, but he felt it nevertheless. - -"She chooses not to leave her bower even to look on you, my Lord -Pandulph. I warrant you, she has not slept all night, listening to your -infernal din." - -A renewed outburst of mirth was the response. - -"Then you will permit us to betake ourselves forthwith to her gilded -chamber to implore pardon on our knees for disturbing her rest." - -"Well spoken--by the boot of St. Benedict!" roared Guido of Vanossa. - -"You may measure my foot and satisfy yourself that I am able to wear -it," shouted the Lord of Civitella. "On our knees we will crawl to the -Sanctuary of our Goddess,--on our knees!" - -"But before we start on our pilgrimage, we will drain a draught long as -the bell-rope of the Capitol," bellowed the Lord of Bracciano. - -"Fill up the tankards!" exclaimed the Lord of Spoleto. "My goblet is as -empty as an honest man's purse,--and one of my eyes is sober yet." - -"Do not take it to heart!" spoke Guido of Vanossa, whose eyes were full -of tears and wine. "You will not die in the jolly fellow's faith!" And -with unsteady voice he began to sing a stanza in dog-Latin: - - "Dum Vinum potamus - Fratelli cantiamo - A Bacco sia Onore! - Te Deum laudamus!" - - -"Would your grace had a better voice, you have a good will!" stammered -the lord of Sinigaglia. "'Tis ample time to repent when you can do no -better. Besides--if you are damned, it is in rare good company!" - -"Ay! Saint and Sinner come to the same end!" gurgled the Lord Pandulph, -ogling the purple Falernian. - -"Fill up your goblets! Though it be a merry life to lead, I doubt if it -will end in so cheery a death!" said Benilo, his eye wandering slowly -from one to the other. - -"Fill up the goblets!" shouted the Lord of Spoleto, rising and -supporting his bulky carcass on the heavy oaken table. - -With a sleepy leer he blinked at the guests. - -"Down on your knees," he roared suddenly, his former intent reverting to -him. "To the Sanctuary of the Goddess! On our knees we will implore her -to receive us into her favour." - -A strange spirit of recklessness had seized Benilo. Instead of -resenting or resisting the proposition, he was the first to get down on -all fours. His example had an electrifying effect. Although they swayed -to and fro like sail-boats on angry sea-waves, all those still sober -enough imitated the Chamberlain amid cheers and grunts, and slowly the -singular procession, led by Benilo, set in motion with the expressed -purpose of invading Theodora's apartments, which were situated beyond -the great hall. The Lord Pandulph resembled some huge bear as on all -fours he hobbled across the mosaic floor beside the Lord of Bracciano, -who panted, grunted and swore and called on the saints, to witness his -self-abasement. Being gouty and stout, he was at one time seized with a -cramp in his leg and struck out vigorously with the result of striking -the Lord of Civitella squarely in the jaw, whereupon the latter, -toppling over, literally flooded the hall with profanity and surplus -wine. The other ten hobbled behind the leaders, cursing their own -folly, but enjoying to a degree the novelty of the pageant. - -Thus they had traversed the great hall at a speed as great as their -singular mode of locomotion and their intoxicated condition would -permit. The background of the hall was but dimly lighted; the great -curtain strung between the two massive pillars, which guarded the -entrance into Theodora's apartments, excluded the glow of the -multi-coloured lamps, strung in regular intervals in the corridor -beyond. - -Benilo was the first to reach the curtain. Resting one hand on the -floor, he raised the other, after the manner of a dog, trying to push -its folds aside, when they suddenly and noiselessly parted. Something -hissed through the air, striking the object of its aim a stinging blow -in the face--a cry of pain and rage, and Benilo, who had sprung to his -feet, stood face to face with Theodora. At the same moment the lights -in the great hall were turned on to a full blaze, revealing in its -entire repelling atrocity the spectacle of the drunken revellers, who, -upon experiencing a sudden check to their further progress, had come to -a sluggish halt, some of them unable to retain their balance and -toppling over in their tracks. - -"Beasts! Swine!" hissed the woman, her eyes ablaze with wrath, the whip -which had struck Benilo in the face, still quivering in her infuriated -grasp. "Out with you--out!" - -The sound of a silver whistle, which she placed between her lips, -brought some five or six giant Africans to the spot. They were eunuchs, -whose tongues had been torn out, and who, possessing no human weakness, -were ferocious as the wild beasts of their native desert. Theodora gave -them a brief command in their own tongue and ere the amazed revellers -knew what was happening to them, they found themselves picked up by -dusky, muscular arms and unceremoniously ejected from the hall, those -lying in a semi-conscious stupor under the tables sharing the same fate. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *DEAD LEAVES* - - -While the Nubians set about in cleaning the hall and removing the last -vestiges of the night's debauch, Theodora faced Benilo with such -contempt in her dark eyes, that for a moment the Chamberlain's boasted -insolence almost deserted him, and though seething with rage at the -chastisement inflicted upon him he awaited her speech in silence. She -faced him, leaning against a marble statue, her hands playing nervously -with the whip. - -"For once I have discovered you in your true station, the station of the -foul, crouching beast, to which you were born, had not some accident -played into the devil's hands by giving you the glittering semblance of -the snake," she said slowly and with a disdain ringing from her words, -which cut even his debased nature to the core. "I have whipped you, as -one whips a cur: do you still desire me for your wife?" - -With lips tightly compressed he looked down, not daring to meet her -fierce gaze of hatred, which was burning into his very brain. - -"I see little reason for changing my mind," he replied after a brief -pause, while as he spoke his cheek seemed to burn with shame, where the -whip had struck it, and her evil, terrible beauty, exposed in her airy -night-robe, roused all the wild demoniacal passions in his soul. - -The whip trembled in her hands. - -"And you call yourself a man!" she said with a withering look of -contempt, under which he winced. - -Then she continued in a hard and cheerless voice, wherein spoke more -than simple aversion, a voice that seemed as it were petrified with -grief, with remorse and hatred of the man who had been the cause of her -fall. - -"Listen to me, Benilo,--mark well my words. What I have been, you know: -the beloved, the adored wife of a man, who would have carried me through -life's storms under the shelter of his love,--a man, who would have shed -the last drop of his life's blood for Ginevra,--that was. For two years -we lived in happiness. I had begged him never to lift the veil which -shrouded my birth,--a wish he respected, a promise he kept. In the -field and at court he pursued the even tenor of his way,--happy and -content with my love. Then there crept into our home a hypocrite, a -liar, a fiend, who could mock the devils in hell to scorn. He stands -there,--Benilo, his name,--a foul thing, who shrank from nothing to gain -his ends. Some fiend revealed to him the awful secret of Ginevra's -birth, a secret which he used to draw her step by step from the man she -loved, to perpetrate a deceit, the cunning of which would put the devils -to blush. He promised to restore to her what is her own by right of her -birth. He roused in her all the evil which ran riot in her blood, and -when she had given herself to him, he revealed himself the lying fiend -he was. Stung by the furies of remorse, which haunted her night and -day,--in her despair the woman made her love the prize, wherewith to -purchase that for which she had broken the holiest ties. But those she -made happy were beasts,--enjoying her favour, giving nothing in return. -My heart is sick of it,--sick of this sham, sick of this baseness. -Heaven once vouchsafed me a sinner's glimpse of paradise, of a home of -purity and peace where indeed I might have been a queen,--a queen so -different from the one who rules a gilded charnel-house." - -Benilo had listened in silent amazement. He failed to sound the drift -of Theodora's speech. The whip-lash burned on his cheek. Her sudden -dejection gave him back some of his former courage. - -"I believe Theodora is discovering that she once possessed a -conscience," he said with a sardonic smile. "How does the violent -change agree with you?" he drawled insolently, for the first time -raising his eyes to hers. - -She appeared not to heed the question, but nodding wearily she said: - -"I am not myself to-night. Despite all which has happened, I stand here -a suppliant before the man who has ruined my life. I have something -else to say." - -"Then I fear you have played your game and lost," he said brutally. - -Theodore interrupted his speech with a gesture, and when she spoke, a -shade of sadness touched her halting tones. - -"Last night he came to me in my dream.--I will never forget the -expression with which he regarded me. I am weary of it all,--weary unto -death." - -"Unfortunately our wager does not concern itself with -sleep-walking--though it seems your only chance of luring your -over-scrupulous mate to your bower." - -The woman started. - -"Surely, you do not mean to hold me to the wager?" - -He smiled sardonically. - -"Considering the risk I run in this affair--why not? Eckhardt is a man -of action--so is Benilo,--who has performed the rare miracle of -compelling the grave to return to his arms Ginevra, a queen indeed,--of -her kind." - -Surely some extraordinary change had taken place in the bosom of the -woman before him. She received the thrust without parrying it. - -"I see," he continued after a brief pause, "Eckhardt proves too mighty a -rock, even for Theodora to move!" - -"His will is strong--but all night in his lonely cell he called -Ginevra's name." - -"You are well informed. Why not take the veil yourself,--since a life -of serene placidity seems so suddenly to your taste?" - -"And where is it written that I shall not?" she questioned, looking him -full in the eye. Benilo winced. If she would but quarrel. He felt -insecure in her present mood. - -"Here--on the tablets of my memory, where a certain wager is recorded," -he replied. - -She turned upon him angrily. - -"It is you who forced me to it against my will.--I took up your -gauntlet, stung by your biting ridicule, goaded by your insults to a -weak and senseless folly." - -"Then you acknowledge yourself vanquished?" - -"I am not vanquished. What I undertake, I carry through--if I wish to -carry it through." - -"It has to my mind ceased to be a matter of choice with you," drawled -the Chamberlain. "In three days Eckhardt's fate will be sealed,--as far -as this world of ours is concerned. You see, your chances are small and -you have no time to lose." - -"Day after to-morrow--holy Virgin--so soon?" gasped Theodora. - -"You have inadvertently called on one whose calls you have not of late -returned," sneered the Chamberlain, with insolent nonchalance. - -"Day after to-morrow," Theodora repeated, stroking her brow with one -white hand. "Day after to-morrow!" - -"Do not despair," Benilo drawled sardonically. "Much can happen in two -days." - -She did not seem to hear him. Her thoughts seemed to roam far away. -Then they returned to earth. For a moment she studied the man before -her in silence, then dropping the whip, she stretched out her hand to -him. - -"Release me from this wager," she pleaded, "and all shall be forgotten -and forgiven." - -He did not touch the hand. It fell. - -"Theodora," he whispered hoarsely. "You will never know how I love you! -I am not as evil as I seem. But there are moments when I lose control -and madness chokes my better self, in the hopeless hunt for your love. -Theodora--bury the past! Give up this baleful existence--live with me -again." - -She laughed a shrill laugh. - -"Your concubine! And you have the courage to ask this?" - -"You know I love the very ground you tread on." - -"Is that all you have to tell me?" - -"Is not that enough?" - -"No--it is not enough!" she replied with flashing eyes. "Between us -stand the barriers of eternity!" - -He paled. - -"Do not dismiss me like this. It is far more cruel than you know. If -you kill my hope, you leave me a prey to the devils of jealousy and -madness,--the evil things of your own creation! Come back to me! I -only ask the love you gave me once,--the love you thought you gave -me,--a grain, a crumb." - -She turned her face away. - -"Never again! Never again!" - -The fevered blood raced swiftly from his cheek. For a moment he watched -her in silence, his eyes like slits in his hard, pale face, then he -turned on his heel and laughed aloud. - -A shudder she could not repress crept over the woman's soft, white skin. - -"Benilo!" she called to him. He turned and came slowly back. - -"Benilo," she continued nervously, "release me from this wager! I -cannot go on--I cannot. If he is bent upon leaving the world, let him -retire in peace and do not stir the misery which lies couchant in the -hidden depths of his soul. He has suffered enough,--more than -enough,--more than should fall to one man's lot. Do not drive me to -madness,--I cannot do it--I cannot." - -"Your thoughts are only for him. For me you have nothing," he replied -fiercely. - -"I owe him everything--nothing to you!" - -"Then go to him, to release you,--I will not!" - -"I cannot do it! Be merciful!" - -The Chamberlain bowed and answered mockingly. - -"It rests with you!" - -"With me?" - -"Acknowledge your defeat!" - -"What do you mean?" she asked with rising fear. - -Benilo shrugged his shoulders. - -"We made a wager--the loser pays." - -"But the forfeit?" she cried in terror. "You would not claim--you would -not chain me to you for ever?" - -He regarded her with a slow triumphant smile and answered cruelly: - -"Forever? At one time the thought had less terrors for you!" - -She disregarded his sarcasm, continuing in the same plaintive tone of -entreaty, which was music in Benilo's ear. - -"But surely--you do not mean it! You would not profit by a woman's -angry folly. I was mad,--insane,--I knew not what I said, what I did! -Benilo, I will admit defeat,--failure,--anything,--only release me from -this fearful wager. I ask you as a man,--have pity on me!" - -"What pity have you lavished on me?" - -"Were you deserving of pity?" - -"My love--" - -"Your love! What is your love, but the lust of the wild beast?" she -exclaimed, flying into a passion, but instantly checking herself. - -"Think of it, Benilo," she urged in desperation, "I could conquer, if I -would. Once Eckhardt lays eyes on me, I can lead him to my will. Never -can I forget the look he gave me when I faced him before my own tomb in -the churchyard of San Pancrazio. Never will that wild expression of -despair and longing, which spoke to me from his mute eyes, fade from my -memory. Whether he believed that I was a pale, mocking phantom--what he -imagined that I was, I know not--I could win him, if I would." - -"Then win him!" snarled Benilo, through his straight thin lips. - -"No! No!" she cried piteously. "Eckhardt is noble. He believed in -me,--he trusted me. He believes me dead. He has no inkling of the vile -thing I am! I listened to his prayer to the Virgin--once more he asked -to see the face of the woman he had loved above everything on earth. -And you ask me to tear the veil from his eyes and drag him down into the -sloth and slime of my existence! His faith falls upon me like a knotted -scourge,--his love--a blow upon my guilty head. He gave me life-long -love in payment for a lie; he gave me love unwavering and true beyond -the grave. When I think of it all--I long to die of shame! You caused -me to believe he was dead,--that he had fallen defending the Eastern -March. I thanked Heaven for the message; I envied him his eternal rest. -It was one of your black deceits,--perhaps one of your mildest. Let it -pass! But again to enter into his life--No! no!" she moaned. "By the -God of Love--I will not!" - -She gave a wild moan and covered her face with her hands. Benilo looked -on in silence, scarce crediting the proof of sight and sound. -Once--twice he moved his lips, ere speech would flow. - -"You have but to choose," he said. "Come to me--my wife or -concubine,--I care not which, and I pledge you my word, he shall die! I -have but spared him until I sounded your humour!" - -She shivered, and raised her hands as if to conjure away some -apparition. - -"No--no--never!" she gasped. "You would not dare! You would not dare! -You are but frightening me! Have pity on me and let me go!" - -"I do not detain you! Go if you will, but remember the wager!" - -Her head drooped, while Benilo drew nearer, bending his exultant eyes on -her wilted form, and in the passion which mastered him, he grasped her -wrists and drew her hands apart, then kissed her passionately upon the -lips. - -With a hunted cry, she wrenched herself away, and leaping backward, -faced him, her voice choked with panting fury: - -"Fool! Devil! Coward! Could you not respect a woman's grief for the -degradation you have forced upon her? Dog! I might have paid your -forfeit had I died of shame! But now--I will not!" She snapped her -fingers in his face. "This for your wager! This for an oath to -you--the vermin of the earth!" - -Benilo took a backward step, awed by the flaming madness in her eyes. - -"Take care!" he growled threateningly. - -"The vermin that crawls in the dust, I say," she reiterated panting, -"the dust--the dust! Better a thousand deaths than the brute love you -offer! Between us it is a duel to the death! I will win him back,--if -I have to barter my evil beauty for eternal damnation,--if our entwined -souls burn to crisp in purgatory,--I will win him back, revealing myself -to him the foul thing I am,--and by way of contrast sing your praises, -my Lord Benilo--believe me,--the devils themselves shall be wroth with -jealousy at my song." - -There was something in the woman's eye, which staggered the Chamberlain. - -"You would not dare!" he exclaimed aghast. - -"I dare everything! You have challenged me and now your coward soul -quails before the issue!--You would have me recede,--go! I've done with -you!" - -"Not yet," Benilo replied, with his sinister drawl--edging nearer the -woman. "I have something else to say to you! Your words are but air! -You have measured your strength with mine and failed! Go to your old -time love! Tell him you found a conscience,--tell him where you found -it,--and see if he allows you leisure to confess all your other -peccadilloes, trifling though they be! Still--the risk is equal. I -have a mind to take the chance! Once more, Theodora,--confess yourself -defeated,--acknowledge that the champion is beyond your reach--be -mine--and the wager shall be wiped out!" - -She recoiled from him, raising her hands in unfeigned horror and cried: - -"Never--never." - -Benilo shrugged his shoulders. - -"As you will!" - -"Then you would have me make him untrue to his vows? You would have me -add this sin too, to my others?" - -He laughed sardonically, while he feasted his eyes on her great beauty. - -"It will not add much to the burden, I ween." - -She gave him one look, in which fear mingled with contempt and turned to -go, when with a spring, stealthy as the panther's, he overtook her, and -pinning down her arms, bent back the proud head and once more pressed -his lips upon the woman's. - -With a cry like a wounded animal she released herself, pushed him back -with the strength of her vigorous youth and spat in his face. - -"Do you still desire me?" she hissed with flaming eyes. - -He sprang at her with a furious oath, but his outstretched fingers -grasped the air. Theodora had vanished. Recoiling from the towering -forms of the Africans, who guarded the corridor leading to her -apartments, Benilo staggered blindly back into the dark deserted halls. -Here he found himself face to face with Hezilo the harper, who seemed to -rise out of the shadows like some ill-omened phantom. - -"If you waver now," the harper spoke with his strange unimpassioned -voice,--"you are lost!" - -The Chamberlain stopped before the harper's arresting words. - -"What can I do?" he groaned with a deep breath. "My soul half sinks -beneath the mighty burden I have heaped upon it, it quails before the -fatal issue." - -"You have measured your strength with the woman's," replied the harper. -"She has felt the conquering whip-hand. Onward! Unflinchingly! -Relentlessly! She dare not face the final issue!" - -"I need new courage, as the dread hour approaches!" Benilo replied, his -breath coming fast between his set teeth. "And from your words, your -looks, I drink it!" - -"Then take it from this also: If now you fail hardly the grave would be -a refuge." - -Benilo peered up at his strange counsellor. - -"Man or devil,--who are you to read the depths of the soul of man?" he -queried amazed, vainly endeavouring to penetrate the vizor, which shaded -the harper's face. - -"Perhaps neither," a voice answered which seemed to come from the -remotest part of the great hall, yet it was Hezilo the harper, who -spoke, "Perchance some spirit, permitted to return to earth to goad man -to his final and greatest fall." - -"It shall be as you say!" Benilo spoke, rousing himself. "Onward! -Relentlessly! Unflinchingly!" - -He staggered from the hall. - -"Perhaps I too should have flagged and failed, had not one thought -whispered hope to me in the long and solitary hours which fill up the -interstices of time," muttered the harper, gazing after the -Chamberlain's vanishing form. - -The voices died to silence. The pale light of dawn peered into the -deserted hall. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *THE PHANTOM AT THE SHRINE* - - -At last the evening had come, when Eckhardt was for ever to retire from -the world, to spend the remainder of his days in prayers and penances, -within the dismal walls of the cloister. The pontiff himself was to -officiate at the high ceremony, which was to close the last chapter in -the great general's life. Daylight was fading fast, and the faint -light, which still glimmered through the western windows of St. Peter's -Basilica had long since lost its sunset ruddiness and was little more -than a pale shadow. The candles, their mighty rival departed, blazed -higher now in merry fitfulness, delighting to play in grotesque imagery -over the monkish faces, which haunted the gloom. - -One end of the Basilica was now luminous with the pale glow of -innumerable slender tapers of every length, ranged in gradated order -round the altar. Their mellow radiance drove the gloom a quarter of the -way down the cathedral. The massive bronze doors at the farther end -were still shut and locked. The only way of entering the church was -through the sacristy, by way of the north transepts, to which only the -monks had access. No sound that should ring out within these mighty -walls to-night could reach the ears of those who might be in the streets -without. - -Meanwhile the quiescent echoes of the vast Basilica were disturbed by -fitful murmurs from the Sacristy. Far in the distance, from the north -transept, might be distinguished light footfalls. Slowly a double file -of monks entered the church, walking to the rhythm of a subdued -processional chant, which rose through the sombre shadows of the aisles. -At the same time the great portals of the Basilica were thrown open to -the countless throngs, which had been waiting without and which now, -like waters released from the impediment of a dam, rushed into the -immense area, waiting to receive them. - -The rumour of Eckhardt's impending consecration had added no little to -the desire of the Romans to be present at a spectacle such as had not -within the memory of man fallen to their lot to behold, and it seemed as -if all Rome had flocked to the ancient Basilica to witness the great and -touching ordeal at which the youthful Pontiff himself was to officiate. -Seemingly interminable processions of monks, bearing huge waxen tapers, -of choristers, acolytes and incense-bearers, with a long array of -crosses and other holy emblems continued to pour into the Basilica. The -priests were in their bright robes of high-ceremony. The choristers -chanted a psalm as they passed on and the incense bearers swung their -silver censers. - -The Pontiff's face was a rarely lovely one to look upon; it was that of -a mere youth. His chin was smooth as any woman's and the altar cloth -was not as white as his delicate hands. The halo of golden hair, which -encircled his tonsure, gave him the appearance of a saint. -Marvellously, indeed, did stole, mitre and staff become the delicate -face and figure of Bruno of Carinthia, and if there was some incongruity -between the spun gold of his fair hair and the severity of the mitre, -which surrounded it, there was none in all that assembly to note it. - -At the door, awaiting the pontifical train, stood the venerable Gerbert -of Aurillac, impressive in his white and gold dalmatica against the red -robes of the chapter. Preceded by two cardinals the Pontiff mounted the -steps, entering through the great bronze portals of the Basilica, which -poured a wave of music and incense out upon the hushed piazza. Then -they closed again, engulfing the brilliant procession. - -The chant ceased and the monks silently ranged themselves in a close -semi-circle about the high-altar. There was a brief and impressive -silence, while the deep, melodious voice of the Archbishop of Rheims was -raised in prayer. The monks chanted the Agnus Dei, then a deep hush of -expectation fell upon the multitudes. - -The faint echoes of approaching footsteps now broke the intense silence -which pervaded the immense area of the Basilica. Accompanied by two -monks, Eckhardt slowly strode down the aisle, which the reverential -tread of millions had already worn to unevenness. In an obscured niche -he had waited their signal, racked by doubts and fears, and less -convinced than ever that the final step he was about to take would lead -to the desired goal. From his station he could distinguish faint -silhouettes of the glittering spars in the vaulting, and the sculptured -chancel, twisted and beaten into fantastic shapes and the line of ivory -white Apostles. As he approached the monks gathered closely round the -chancel, where, under the pontifical canopy, stood the golden chair of -the Vicar of Christ. - -Eckhardt did not raise his eyes. Once only, as in mute questioning, did -his gaze meet that of Gregory, then he knelt before the altar. His -ardent desire was about to be fulfilled. As this momentous time -approached, Eckhardt's hesitation in taking the irrevocable step seemed -to diminish--and gradually to vanish. He was even full of impatient -joy. Never did bridegroom half so eagerly count the hours to his -wedding, as did the German leader the moments which were for ever to -relieve him of that gnawing pain that consumed his soul. In the broken -fitful slumber of the preceding night he had seen himself chanting the -mass. To be a monk seemed to him now the last and noblest refuge from -the torments which gnawed the strings of his heart. At this moment he -would have disdained the estate of an emperor or king. There was no -choice left now. The bridge leading into the past was destroyed and -Eckhardt awaited his anointment more calmly. - -Gregory's face was grave and to a close observer it would have appeared -to withhold approval from that which added greater glory to the Church, -as if anticipating proportionately greater detriment for the state. As -Eckhardt knelt in silent prayer, all but entranced in religious ecstasy, -he noted not the nearness of Benilo, who watched him like a tiger from -the half gloom of his station. The hush in the Basilica was well-nigh -oppressive. The Romans, who had flocked hither to witness the uncommon -sight of a victorious leader abandoning the life at a court for the -cassock of a monk, and perhaps inwardly calculating the immense -consequences of a step so grave, waited breathlessly until that step -should be accomplished. Those whose sympathies lay with the imperial -party were filled with grave misgivings, for if Eckhardt's example found -imitators in the German host, the cause of the emperor would grow weaker -in proportion as the prestige of the Romans and the monks increased. - -The benediction had been pronounced. The Communion in both kind had -been partaken. The palms of Eckhardt had been anointed with consecrated -oil, and finally the celebration of the Holy Rite had been offered up in -company with the officiating Cardinal. - -It was done. There remained little more than the cutting of the -tonsure, and from the world, which had once claimed him--from the world -to which he still unconsciously clung with fevered pulses,--Eckhardt was -to vanish for ever. As the officiating Cardinal of San Gregorio -approached the kneeling general, the latter chanced to raise his head. -A deadly pallor overspread his features as his eyes gazed beyond the -ecclesiastic at one of the great stone pillars, half of which was wrapt -in dense gloom. The ceremony, so splendid a moment ago, seemed to fade -before the aspect of those terrible eyes, which peered into his own from -a woman's face, pale as death. Throughout the church darkness seemed -suddenly to reign, The candles paled in their sconces of gold before the -glare of those eyes, calculated to make or mar the destinies of man. - -Against the incense saturated gloom, her beauty shone out like a -heavenly revelation; she seemed herself the fountain of light, to give -it rather than to receive it. For a moment Eckhardt lowered his gaze, -little doubting but that the apparition was some new temptation of the -fiend, to make him waver at the decisive moment. The ceremony -proceeded. But when after a few moments, not being able to withstand -the lure, he looked up again, he saw her glittering in a bright -penumbra, which dazzled him like the burning disk of the sun. And as he -gazed upon the strange apparition, tall with the carriage of a goddess, -her eyes darting rays like stars, winging straight for his heart--and -she the very image of his dead wife, just as she had appeared to him on -that memorable night in the churchyard of San Pancrazio,--he hardly knew -whether the flame that lighted those orbs came from heaven to strengthen -his resolve, or from hell, to foil it. But from devil or angel -assuredly it came. - -Her white teeth shone in the terrible smile, with which she regarded -him. The smooth alabaster skin of her throat glistened with a pearly -sheen. Her white robe, falling from her head to her feet, straight as -the winding sheet of death, matched the marble pallor of her complexion, -and her hands, seemingly holding the shroud in place, were as white as -fresh fallen snow. - -As Eckhardt continued to gaze upon her, he felt the floodgates of his -memory re-open; he felt the portals of the past, which had seemed locked -and barred, swing back upon their hinges, grating deep down in his soul. -And with the sight of the phantom standing before him, so life-like, so -beautiful, all the mad longing bounded back into his heart. Gripped by -a terrible pain, he heard neither the chant, nor the words of the -Cardinal. Everything around him seemed to fade, but the terrible being -still held his gaze with those deep and marvellous eyes, that had all -the brightness and life of the sapphire seas. - -Eckhardt felt he was being carried far from the sphere of the cloister -into a world at whose gates new desires were knocking. While he -mechanically muttered the responses to the queries, which the Cardinal -put to him, his whole soul began to rise in arms against the words his -tongue was uttering. A secret force seemed to drag them from him, he -felt the gaze of the thousands weighing upon him like a cope of lead. -Yet it seemed that no one in all that vast assembly heeded the strange -apparition, and if there appeared any hesitancy in Eckhardt's responses, -or a strange restlessness in his demeanour, it was charged to the -consciousness of the momentous change, the responsibility of the -irrevocable step, crushing life, ambition and hope. - -But the countenance of the mysterious apparition did not change as the -ceremony progressed. Steadfastly, with tender and caressing gaze she -seemed to regard him, her whole soul in her straining eyes. With an -effort, which might have moved a mountain, Eckhardt strove to cry out, -that he would never be a monk. It was in vain. His tongue clove to the -roof of his mouth. Not even by sign could he resist. Wide awake, he -seemed to be in the throes of one of those nightmares, wherein one -cannot utter the words on which life itself depends. The apparition -seemed instinctively to read and to comprehend the torture, which racked -Eckhardt's breast. And the glance she cast upon him seemed so fraught -with the echoes of despair, that it froze his heart to the core. - -Was it indeed but an apparition? - -Was this terrible semblance to his dead wife more than a mere accident? - -The chalice, with the blood of Christ, trembled in Eckhardt's hand. He -was about to pass it to his lips. But try as he might, he could not -avert his gaze. Those terrible eyes, the marble calm of the face of his -dead wife seemed to draw him onward,--onward.--Forgotten was church, and -ceremony, and vow; forgotten everything before that phantom from beyond -the grave. It held him with a power which mocked to scorn every effort -to escape its spell. The apparition lured him on, as almost -imperceptibly it began to recede, without once abandoning its gaze. - -A wild shriek re-echoed through the high-vaulted dome of the Basilica of -St. Peter. It was the shriek of a madman, who has escaped his guards, -but fears to be overtaken. The golden chalice fell from Eckhardt's -nerveless grasp, spilling its contents over the feet of the Cardinal of -San Gregorio who raised his hands in unfeigned dismay and muttered an -anathema. Then, with a white, wet face, Eckhardt staggered blindly to -his feet, groping, with outstretched arms, toward the apparition--which -seemed to recede farther and farther away into the gloom. - -The hush of death had fallen upon the assembly. The monk Cyprianus -raised aloft his arms, as though invoking divine interposition and -exorcising the fiend. His eyes, the eyes of the assembled thousands and -the stare of Benilo, the Chamberlain, followed the direction of -Eckhardt's outstretched arms. Suddenly he was seen to pause before one -of the massive pillars, pale as death, mumbling strange words, -accompanied by stranger gestures. Then he gazed about like one waking -from a terrible dream--the spot where the apparition had mocked him but -a moment ago was deserted! Had it been but another temptation of the -fiend? - -But no! It was impossible. This woman had made him utterly her own; -her glance had sufficed to snap asunder the fetters of a self-imposed -yoke, as though her will, powerful even after death, had suddenly passed -upon him. Though he saw her not at the present moment, he had but to -close his eyes, to see her as distinctly as if she were still present in -the body. And in that moment Eckhardt felt all the horrors of the path -he was about to choose, the dead and terrible aspect of the life he was -about to espouse. To be a monk, to crawl till death in the chill shade -of the cloister, to see none save living spectres, to watch by the -nameless corpses of folks unknown, to wear his raiment for his coffin's -pall--a terrible dread seized him. One brief hour spent before an altar -and some gabbled words were about to cut him off for ever from the -society of the living. With his own hand he was about to seal the stone -upon his tomb, and turn the key in the lock of the door of Life. - -Like a whirlwind these thoughts passed through Eckhardt's brain. Then -he imagined once more that he saw the eyes of his dead wife gazing upon -him, burning into the very depths of his soul. What made their aspect -so terrible to him, he was not just then in the frame to analyze. Some -mysterious force, which had left the sweetness of her face unmarred, -seemed to have imparted something to her eyes that inspired him with an -unaccountable dread. - -As he paused thus before the pillar, pressing his icy hands to his -fevered temples, vainly groping for a solution, vainly endeavouring to -break the fetters which bound his will and seemed to crush his strength, -there broke upon his ears the loud command of the officiating monk, to -return and bid the Fiend desist. These words broke the deadly spell -which had benumbed his senses and caused him to remain riveted to the -spot, where the phantom had hovered. His sunken eyes glared as those of -a madman, as he slowly turned in response to the monk's behest. The hot -breath came panting from between his parched lips. Then, without -heeding the ceremony, without heeding the monks or the spectators who -had flocked hither to witness his consecration, Eckhardt dashed through -the circle of which he had formed the central figure and, ere the amazed -spectators knew what happened or the monks could stem his precipitate -flight, the chief of the imperial hosts rushed out of the church in his -robes of consecration and vanished from sight. - -So quickly, so unexpectedly did it all happen, that even the officiating -Cardinal seemed completely paralyzed by the suddenness of Eckhardt's -flight. There was no doubt in the mind of Cyprianus that the Margrave -had gone mad and his whispered orders sent two monks speeding after the -demented neophyte. Deep, ominous silence hovered over the vast area of -the Basilica. It seemed as if the very air was fraught with deep -portent, and ominous forebodings of impending danger filled the hearts -of the assembled thousands. The people knelt in silent prayer and -breathless expectation. Would Eckhardt return? Would the ceremony -proceed? - -Among all those, who had so eagerly watched the uncommon spectacle of -whose crowning glory they were about to see themselves deprived, there -was but one to whom the real cause of the scene which had just come to a -close, was no mystery. Benilo alone knew the cause of Eckhardt's flight. -To the last moment he had triumphed, convinced that no temptation could -turn from his chosen path a mind so stern as Eckhardt's. But when the -effect of the mysterious vision upon the kneeling general became -apparent, when his restlessness grew with every moment, up to the -terrible climax, accentuated by his madman's yell, when, unmindful of -the monk's admonition--he saw him rush out of the church in his -consecrated robes--then Benilo knew that the general would not return. -For the time all the insolent boastfulness of his nature forsook him and -he shivered as one seized with a sudden chill. Without awaiting what -was to come, unseen and unnoticed amidst the all-pervading -consternation, the Chamberlain rushed out of the Basilica by the same -door through which Eckhardt had gained the open. - -Under his canopy sat the Vice-Gerent of Christ, surrounded by the -consecrated cardinals and bishops and the monks of the various orders. -Without an inkling of the true cause prompting Eckhardt's precipitate -flight Gregory had witnessed the terrible scene, which had just come to -a close. But inwardly he rejoiced. For only when every opposition to -Eckhardt's mad desire had appeared fruitless, had the Pontiff acquiesced -in granting to him the special dispensation, which shortened the time of -his novitiate to the limit of three days. - -But it was not a matter for the moment, for Gregory himself was to -partake of the Communion and the monk Cyprianus, who was to perform the -holy office, a tribute to the order whose superior he was, had just -blessed the host. In his consecrated hand the wine was to turn into the -blood of Christ, Gregory had just partaken of the holy wafer. Now the -monk placed the golden tube in the golden chalice and, drawing his cowl -deeply over his forehead, passed the other end of the tube to the -Pontiff. - -Gregory placed the golden tube to his lips, and as he sipped the wine, -changed into blood, the two cardinals on duty approached the sacred -throne, a torch in one hand, a small bundle of tow in the other. -According to custom they set the tow on fire. - -Again the unison chant of the monks resounded; the assembled thousands -lying prostrate in prayer. - -Suddenly there arose a strange bustle round the pontifical canopy. -Suppressed murmurs broke the silence. Monks were to be seen rushing -hither and thither. Gregory had fainted! The monk Cyprianus seemed -vainly endeavouring to revive him. For a moment the crowds remained in -awe-struck silence, then, as if the grim spectre of Death had visibly -appeared amongst them, the terror-stricken worshippers rushed out of the -Basilica of St. Peter and soon the terrible rumour was rife in the -streets of Rome. Pope Gregory the Fifth was dying. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *THE DEATH WATCH* - - -The sun had sunk to rest and the noises of the day were dying out, one -by one. The deep hush of the hour of dusk settled once more over the -city, shaken to its very depths by the terrible catastrophe and upheaved -by the fanaticism of the monks, who roused the populace to a paroxysm of -frenzy and fear which gave way to pandemonium itself, when the feelings -of the masses, strung to their utmost tension, leaped into the opposite -extreme. Crescentius had remained shut up in Castel San Angelo, but the -monk Cyprianus could be seen stalking through the city at the hour of -dusk, and whosoever met him crossed himself devoutly, and prayed to have -time for confession, when the end was nigh. - -The importance of the impending change impressed itself upon every mind. -The time when worldly power alone could hope to successfully cope with -the crying evils of a fast decaying age, of a world, grown old and stale -and rotten, upon which had not yet fallen the beam of the Renaissance, -was not yet at hand, and the fatal day of Canossa had not yet illumined -the century with its lurid glare. - -Therefore Otto had chosen Bruno, the friend of his boyhood, for the -highest honours in Christendom, Bruno, one in mind, one in soul with -himself, and the Conclave had by its vote ratified the imperial choice. -But Bruno himself had not wished the honour. While he shared the high -ideals of his royal friend he lacked that confidence in himself, which -was so essential a requirement for the ruler whose throne swayed on the -storm-tossed billows of the Roman See. Bruno was of a rather -retrospective turn of mind, and it was doubtful, whether he would be -able to carry out the sweeping reforms planned by Theophano's idealistic -son, and regarded with secret abhorrence by the Italian cardinals. Only -with the aid of the venerable Gerbert had Gregory consented to enter -upon the grave duties awaiting him at the head of the Christian world at -a time when that world seemed to totter in its very foundations. And he -had paid the penalty, cut down in the prime of life. - -In the Vatican chapel on a bier, round which were burning six wax -candles in silver-sticks, lay the fast decaying body of Gregory V. -Terrible rumours concerning the Pontiff's death were abroad in the city. -The doors of the Pope's private apartments had been found locked from -within. The terrified attendants had not ventured to return to the -Vatican until the gray morning light of the succeeding day broke behind -the crests of the Apennines. They had broken down the door, rumour had -it, but to recoil from the terrible sight which met their eyes. On his -bed lay the dead Pontiff. The head and right arm almost touched the -floor, as if in the death-struggle he had lost his balance. Traces of -burnt parchment on the floor and an empty phial on the table beside him -intensified, rather than cleared up the mystery. And as they -approached, terror-stricken, and endeavoured to lift the body, the right -arm almost severed itself from the trunk at their touch, and the body -was fast turning black. The handsome features of the youth were gray -and drawn, his hair clammy and dishevelled and the open eyes stared -frightfully into space as if vainly searching for the murderer. - -Whatever Gerbert's suspicions were when, too late, he arrived in the -death chamber, no hint escaped his lips. Under his personal care the -body of the hapless youth was prepared for interment, then he hurriedly -convoked the Conclave and ordered the gates of Rome closed against any -one attempting to leave the city. - -The Vatican chapel was hung with funereal tapestry. Everywhere were seen -garlands of flowers entwined with branches of cypress. In the middle of -the chapel stood the bier, covered with black velvet. A choir of monks, -robed in vestments of black damask, was chanting the last Requiem. The -Cardinal of Sienna was conducting the last rites. As the echoes of the -chant died away under the vaulted arches, a monk approached the bier, -and sprinkled the corpse with holy water. The Cardinal pronounced the -benediction; the monk bent slightly over the body when a drop from the -forehead of the dead Pontiff rebounded to his face. He shuddered and -hastily retreated behind the monks, who formed into the recessional. -Only two remained in the chapel. Contrary to all custom they -extinguished the candles which had burnt down half-way. The smaller -ones they left to flicker out, until they should pitifully flare up -once, more, then to go out in the great darkness like the soul of man, -when his hour has come. - -The last and only one to remain within the chapel to hold the -death-watch with the Pontiff, was Eckhardt, the Margrave. Wrapt in his -dark fancies he sat beside the bier. After his precipitate flight all -memory of what succeeded had vanished. Exhausted and tottering he had -found himself in the palace on the Caelian Mount, where he shut himself -up till the terrible tidings of the Pontiff's death penetrated to the -solitude of his abode. Now it seemed to him that the moment he would -set foot in the streets of Rome, some dark and fearful revelation -awaited him. Since that night, when the strange apparition had drawn -him from the altars of Christ, had caused him to renounce the vows his -lips were about to pronounce, a terrible fear and suspicion had gripped -his soul. The presentiment of some awful mystery haunted him night and -day, as he brooded over the terrible fascination of those eyes, which -had laid their spell upon him, the amazing resemblance of the apparition -to the wife of his soul, long dead in her grave. And the more he -pondered the heavier grew his heart within him, and he groped in vain -for a ray of light on his dark and lonely path,--vainly for a guiding -hand, to conduct him from the labyrinth of doubt and fear into the -realms of oblivion and peace. The Margrave's senses reeled from the -heavy fumes of flowers and incense, which filled the Basilica. The -light from a cresset-lantern on the wall, contending singly with the -pale mournful rays of the moon, which cast a dim light through the long -casement, over pillars and aisles, fell athwart his pallid face. The -terrible incidents of the past night, which had thrown him back into the -throes of the world, and had snuffed out the Pontiff's life, weighed -heavily upon him, and for the nonce, the commander abandoned every -attempt to clear the terrible mystery which enshrouded him. He almost -despaired of combating the spectre single-handed, and now the one man, -who might by counsel and precept have guided his steps, had been struck -down by the assassin's hand. - -The sanctity of the place, the solemnity of the hour, and the deep -silence around were well calculated to deepen the melancholy mood of the -solitary watcher. Weird were the fancies that swept over his mind, -memories of a long forgotten past, and dim, indistinct plans for the -future, till at length, wearied with his own reflections over that -saddest of all earthly enigmas, what might have been, he seated himself -on a low bench beside the bier. The moonbeams grew fainter and more -faint, as the time wore on, and the sharp distinction between light and -shadow faded fast from the marble floor. - -Thicker and thicker drooped the shadows round the bier of the dead -Pontiff. The silence seemed to deepen. The moon was gone. Save for -the struggling rays of the cresset-lantern above him, the blackness of -night closed round the solemn and ghostly scene. - -The scent of flowers and the fumes of incense weighed heavily on -Eckhardt's senses. Vainly did he combat the drowsiness; the silence, -the dim light and the heavy fumes at last laid their benumbing spell -upon him and lulled him to sleep. His head fell back and his eyes -closed. - -But his sleep was far from calm. Weird dreams beset him. Again he lived -over the terrible ordeal of the preceding night. Again he saw himself -surrounded, hemmed in by a vast concourse. Again he saw the phantom at -the shrine, the phantom with Ginevra's face,--Ginevra's eyes; again he -heard her strange luring words. The wine spilled from the sacred -chalice looked like blood on the marble stairs of the altar. He heard -his own voice, strange, unearthly; gripped by a choking sensation he -rushed from the crowded Basilica, the air of which seemed to stifle -him,--rushed in pursuit of the phantom with Ginevra's face,--Ginevra's -eyes. At the threshold of the church a hand seized his own,--a woman's -hand. How long, since he had felt a woman's hand in his own! It was -cold as the skin of a serpent, yet it burnt like fire. And the hand -drew him onward, ever onward. There was no resisting the gaze of those -eyes which burnt into his own. - -A deep azure overspread the sky. The trees were clothed in the raiment -of spring. Blindly he staggered onward. Blindly he followed his -strange guide through groves, fragrant with the perfumes of -flowers,--the air seemed as a bower of love. The hand drew him onward -with its chill, yet burning touch. The way seemed endless. Faster and -faster grew their speed. At last they seemed to devour the way. The -earth flitted beneath them as a gray shadow. The black trees fled in -the darkness like an army in rout. They delved into glens, gloomy and -chill. The night-birds clamoured in the forest deeps; will-o'-the-wisps -gleamed over stagnant pools and now and then the burning eyes of -spectres pierced the gloom, who lined a dark avenue in their nebulous -shrouds. - -And the hand drew him onward--ever onward! Neither spoke. Neither -questioned. At last he found himself in a churchyard. The scent of -faded roses hovered on the air like the memory of a long-forgotten love. -They passed tombstone after tombstone, gray, crumbling, with defaced -inscriptions; the spectral light of the moon in its last quarter dimly -illumined their path till at last they reached a stone half hidden -behind tall weeds and covered with ivy, moss and lichen. The earth had -been thrown up from the grave, which yawned to receive its inmate. Owls -and bats flocked and flapped about them with strange cries; the foxes -barked their answer far away and a thousand evil sounds rose from the -stillness. As they paused before the yawning grave he gazed up into his -companion's face. Pale as marble Ginevra stood by his side, the long -white shroud flowing unbroken to her feet. Through the smile of her -parted lips gleamed her white teeth, as she pointed downward, to the -narrow berth, then her arms encircled his neck like rings of steel; her -eyes seemed to pierce his own, he felt unable to breathe, he felt his -strength giving way, together they were sinking into the night of the -grave-- - -A shrill cry resounded through the silence of the Basilica. Awakened by -the terrible oppression of his dream,--roused by the sound of his own -voice, Eckhardt opened his eyes and gazed about, fearstruck and -dismayed. After a moment or two he arose, to shake off the spell, which -had laid its benumbing touch upon him, when he suddenly recoiled, then -stood rooted to the spot with wild, dilated eyes. At the foot of the -Pontiff's bier stood the tall form of a woman. The fitful rays of the -cresset-lantern above him illumined her white, flowing garb. A white -transparent veil drooped from her head to her feet; but the diaphanous -texture revealed a face pale and beautiful, and eyes which held him -enthralled with their slumbrous, mesmeric spell. Breathless with horror -Eckhardt gazed upon the apparition; was it but the continuation of his -dream or was he going mad? - -As the phantom slowly began to recede into the shadows, Eckhardt with a -supreme effort shook off the lethargy which benumbed his limbs. He -dared remain no longer inert, he must penetrate the mystery, whatever -the cost, whatever the risk. With imploring, outstretched arms he -staggered after the apparition,--if apparition indeed it was,--straining -his gaze towards her slowly receding form--and so absorbed was he in his -pursuit, that he saw not the shadow which glided into the mortuary -chapel. Suddenly some dark object hurled itself against him; quick as a -flash, and ere he could draw a second breath, a dagger gleamed before -Eckhardt's eyes; he felt the contact of steel with his iron -breast-plate, he heard the weapon snap asunder and fall at his feet, but -when he recovered from his surprise, the would-be assassin, without -risking a second stroke, had fled and the apparition seemed to have -melted into air. Eckhardt found himself alone with the dead body of the -Pontiff. - -With loud voice he called for the sentry, stationed without, and when -that worthy at last made his appearance, his heavy, drooping eyelids and -his drowsy gait did not argue in favour of too great a watchfulness. -Making the sentry doff his heavy iron shoes, Eckhardt bade him secure a -torch, then he made the round of the chapel, preceded by his stolid -companion. The Margrave's anxiety found slight reflex in the coarse -features of his subordinate, who understood just enough of what was -wanted of him to comprehend the disappointment in his master's -countenance. As every door was locked and bolted, the only supposition -remaining was that the bravo had discovered some outlet from within. -But Eckhardt's tests proved unavailing. The floor and the walls seemed -of solid masonry which to penetrate seemed impossible. The broken blade -offered no clue either to the author or perpetrator of this deed of -darkness, and after commanding the sentry to keep his watch for the -remainder of the night, inside, Eckhardt endeavoured once more to -compose himself to rest, while the man-at-arms stretched his huge limbs -before the pontifical bier. - -The bells of St. Peter's chimed shrill and loud as a mighty multitude, -greater even than that of the preceding night, swept within its portals -toward the chapel of Boniface VIII. There, filling every inch of space, -only the more fortunate of the crowd gained a glimpse of the coffin, -which had been closed, for the corpse was decaying fast, the effect of -the terrible and mysterious poison which had been mixed in the holy -wine. At length, as the solemn chant of the choristers began to swell -through the edifice, preluding the celebration of the Death Mass for the -departed Pontiff, a silence as of the tomb pervaded the vast edifice. - -Thus the day wore on,--thus the day departed. - -The solemn chant had died away. The sun of another day had set. - -The funeral cortege set in motion. Fifty torches surrounded the bier -and so numerous were the lamps in the windows of the streets through -which the funeral procession passed, so abundant the showers of roses -which poured upon the bier, that the people declared it surpassed the -procession Corpus Domini. - -Interchanging solemn hymns, the cortege arrived at last before the -church of San Pietro in Montorio, where the body was to be placed in the -niche provisionally appointed, where it was to remain till the death of -the succeeding pope should consign it to its final place of rest. - -The ceremony ended, the people dispersed. Few loiterers remained on the -pavement of the church. The sacristan announced that it was about to be -closed, and waiting until, as he thought, all had departed, he turned -the ponderous doors on their hinges and shut them with a crash. The -report, reverberating from arch to arch, shook the ancient sepulchre -through its every angle. The lamps, which at wide intervals burned -feebly before the shrines of the saints, lent additional solemnity and -awe to the obscurity of the place. One torch was left to light a narrow -circle round the entrance to the crypt. - -Silence had succeeded when out of the shadow of the tomb there passed -two figures, who upon entering the narrow circle of light emanating from -the dim, flickering taper, faced each other in mute amazement and -surprise. - -"What are you doing here?" spoke the one, in the garb of a monk, as they -stood revealed to each other in the half gloom. - -With a gesture of horror and dismay the other, a woman, wrapt in a dark -mantle, which covered her tall and stately form from head to foot, -turned away from him. - -"I give you back the question," she replied, dread and fear in her -tones. - -"My presence here concerns the dead," said the monk. - -"They say, the hand of the dead Pontiff has touched his murderer." - -The monk paled. For a moment he almost lost his self-control. - -"He had to die some way," he replied with a shrug. - -"Monster!" she exclaimed, recoiling from him, as if she had seen a snake -in her path. - -"He travelled in godly company," said the monk Cyprianus with a dark -laugh. "An entire Conclave will welcome him at the gates of Paradise. -Why are you here?" the monk concluded, a shade of suspicion lingering in -his tones. - -"Am I accountable to you?" flashed Theodora. - -"Being what you are through my intercession,--perhaps," replied the -monk. - -She measured him with a look of unutterable contempt. - -"Because the prying eyes of a perjured wretch, who screened his vileness -behind the cassock of the monk, dared to offend the majesty of Death and -to disturb the repose of the departed, you come to me like some -importunate slave dissatisfied with his hire? You dare to constitute -yourself my guardian, to call Theodora a thing of your creation? Take -care! You speak to a descendant of Marozia. I have had enough of -whimpering monks. For the service demanded of you in a certain hour you -have been paid. So clear the way, and trouble me no more!" - -The monk did not stir. - -"The fair Theodora has not inherited Ginevra's memory," he said with a -sneer. "The gold was to purchase the repose of Ginevra's soul." - -Theodora shuddered, as if oppressed with the memories of the past. - -"Candles and masses," she said, as one soliloquizing. "How signally -they failed!" - -The monk shrugged his shoulders. - -"If a thousand Aves, and tapers six foot long fail in their -purpose,--what undiscovered penance could perform the miracle?" - -There was something in the gleam of the monk's eye which brought -Theodora to herself. - -"What do you want of me?" she questioned curtly. - -"The fulfilment of your pledge." - -"You have been paid." - -The monk waved his hands. - -"'Tis not for gold, I have ventured this--" - -And he pointed to the crypts below. - -She recoiled from him, regarding him with a fixed stare. - -"What do you want of me?" she again asked with a look, in which hate and -wonder struggled for the mastery. - -"The new Conclave will be made up of your creatures. Their choice must -fall--on me!" - -"On the perjured assassin?" shrieked the woman. "Out of my way! I've -done with you!" - -The monk stirred not. From his drawn white face two eyes like glowing -coals burnt into those of the woman. - -"Remember your pledge!" - -"Out of my way, assassin! Dare you so high? The chair of St. Peter -shall never be defiled by such a one--as you!" - -"And thus Theodora rewards the service rendered to Ginevra," the monk -said, breathing hard, and making a step towards her. She watched him -narrowly, her hand concealed under her cloak. - -"Dare but to touch the hem of this robe with your blood-stained hands--" - -Cyprianus retreated before the menace in her eyes. - -"I thought I had lived too long for surprises," he said calmly. "Yet, -considering that I bear here in this bosom a secret, which one, I know, -would give an empire to obtain,--Cyprianus can be found tractable." - -With a last glance at the woman's face, stony in its marble-cold -disdain, the monk turned and left the church through the sacristy. For -a moment Theodora remained as one spell-bound, then she drew her mantle -more closely about her and left the sepulchre by an exit situated in an -opposite direction. No sooner had her footsteps died to silence when -two shadowy forms sped noiselessly through the incense-saturated dusk of -S. Pietro in Montorio, pausing on the threshold of the door, through -which the monk Cyprianus had gained the open. - -"I need that man!" whispered the taller into the ear of his companion, -pointing with shadowy finger to the swiftly vanishing form of the monk. - -The other nodded with a horrid grin, which glowed upon his visage like -phosphorus upon a skull. - -With a quick nod of understanding, the Grand Chamberlain and John of the -Catacombs quitted the steps of S. Pietro in Montorio. - -Darkness fell. - -Night enveloped the trembling world with her star embroidered robe of -dark azure. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *THE CONCLAVE* - - -A vast concourse surrounded the portals of the Vatican. It seemed as if -the entire population of Rome, from the Porta del Popolo to the -Coliseum, from the baths of Diocletian to Castel San Angelo, had -assembled by appointment in the Piazza of St. Peter. For so dense was -the multitude, that its pressure filled the adjacent thoroughfares, the -crowds clinging round columns, winding along the broken outlines of the -walls, and grouping themselves among the ruins of temples and fallen -porticoes. - -The eyes of all were fixed upon that wing of the pontifical palace where -the Conclave, hurriedly convoked, was assembled, and as Gregory V had -now been dead sixteen days, the cardinals were proceeding with the -election of a new Pope. Never possibly, from the hour when the first -successor of St. Peter mounted the throne of the Apostle, had there been -exhibited so much unrest and disquietude as there was in this instance -to be observed among the masses. The rumour that Gregory had died of -poison had proved true, and the Romans had been seized with a strange -fear, urging all ranks towards the Vatican or Monte Cavallo, according -as the scarlet assembly held its sittings in one place or another. -During the temporary interregnum, the Cardinal of Sienna, president of -the Apostolic Chamber, had assumed the pontifical authority. - -For three days the eyes of the Romans had been fixed upon a chimney in -the Vatican, whence the first signal should issue, proclaiming the -result of the pending election. Yet at the hour when the Ave Maria -announced the close of day, a small column of smoke, ascending like a -fleecy cloud of vapour to the sky, had been the only reward for their -anxiety, and with cries mingled with shouts of menace, discordant -murmurs of raillery and laughter the crowds had each day dispersed. For -the smoke announced that the Romans were still without a Pontiff, that -the ballot-list had been burnt, and that the Sacred College had not yet -chosen a successor to Gregory. - -The day had been spent in anxious expectation. Hour passed after hour, -without a sign either to destroy or to excite the hope, when the first -stroke of five was heard. Slowly the bells tolled the hour, every note -falling on the hearts of the people, whose anxious gaze was fixed on the -chimney of the Vatican. The last stroke sounded; its vibrations faintly -fading on the silent air of dusk, when a thunderous clamour, echoing -from thousands of throats, shook the Piazza of St. Peter, succeeded by a -death-like silence of expectation as with a voice, loud and penetrating, -Cardinal Colonna, who had stepped out upon the balcony, announced to the -breathless thousands: - -"I announce to you tidings of great joy: Gerbert of Aurillac, Archbishop -of Rheims, Bishop of Ravenna and Vice-Chancellor of the Church, has been -elected to the exalted office of Pontiff and has ascended the chair of -St. Peter under the name of Sylvester II." - -As the Cardinal finished his announcement a monk in the grey habit of -the Penitent friars was seen to pale and to totter, as if he were about -to fall. Declining the aid of those endeavouring to assist him he -staggered through the crowds, covering his face with his arms and was -soon lost to sight. - -The thunderous applause at the welcome tidings was followed by sighs of -relief, as the people retired to their houses and hovels. The place, -where a few minutes before a nation seemed collected, was again -deserted, save for a few groups, composed of such whom curiosity might -detain or others who, residing in the immediate neighbourhood, were less -eager to depart. Even these imperceptibly diminished, and when the hour -of eight was repeated from cloisters and convents, the lights in the -houses gradually disappeared, save in one window of the Vatican, whence -a lamp still shed its fitful light through the nocturnal gloom. - - - - - *Book the Second* - - *The Sorceress* - - - - - "As I came through the desert, thus it was - As I came through the desert: I was twain; - Two selves distinct, that cannot join again. - One stood apart and knew but could not stir, - And watched the other stark in swoon and her; - And she came on and never turned aside, - Between such sun and moon and roaring tide: - And as she came more near, - My soul grew mad with fear." - --_James Thomson_. - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *THE MEETING* - - -Not many days after, in the still noontide of mellow autumn, a small -band of horsemen drew towards Rome. They rode along the Via Appia, -between the ancient tombs; all about them, undulant to the far horizon, -stretched a brown wilderness dotted with ruins. Ruins of villas, of -farms, of temples, with here and there a church or a monastery, that -told of the newer time. Olives in scant patches, a lost vineyard, a -speck of tilled soil, proved that men still laboured amid this vast and -awful silence, but rarely did a human figure meet the eye. Marshy ground -and stagnant pools lay on either hand, causing them to glance sadly at -those great aqueducts, which had in bygone ages carried water from the -hills into Rome. - -They rode in silence, tired with their journey, occupied with heavy or -anxious thoughts. Otto, King of the Germans, impatient to arrive, was -generally a little ahead of the rest of the company. The pallor of his -smooth and classic face was enhanced by the coarse military cloak, dark -and travel-stained, which covered his imperial vestments. A lingering -expression of sadness was revealed in his eyes, and his lips were -tightly compressed in wordless grief, for the tidings of the untimely -death of the Pontiff, the friend of his youth and his boyhood days, had -reached him just after his departure from the shrines of St. Michael in -Apulia. Dark hints had been contained in the message, which Sylvester -II, Gregory's chosen successor and Otto's former teacher, had despatched -to the ruler of the Roman world, urging his immediate return,--for the -temper of the Romans brooked no trifling, their leaders being ever on -the alert for mischief. - -Earthworks and buildings of military purpose presently appeared, -recalling the late blockade; churches and oratories told them they were -passing the sacred ground of the Catacombs, then they trotted along a -hollow way and saw before them the Appian gate. Only two soldiers were -on guard; these, not recognizing the German king, took a careless view -of the travellers, then let them pass without speaking. - -At the base of the Aventine the cavalcade somewhat slackened its pace. -Slowly they ascended the winding road, until they reached the old wall -of Servius Tullius. Here Otto reined in his charger, pausing, for a -moment, to observe the view. To the west and south-west stretched the -brown expanse of the Campagna, merging into the distant gray of the -Roman Maremma, while beyond that point a clear blue line marked the -Ionian Sea. Beneath them the Tiber wound its coils round St. -Bartholomew's Island, the yellow water of the river, stirred into faint -ripples by the breeze, looking from the distance like hammered brass. -Beyond the Tiber rose the Janiculan Mount, behind which the top of the -Vatican hill was just visible. To southward the view was bounded by the -Church of Santa Prisca above them and far off rose the snow-capped cone -of Soracté. Northeast and east lay the Palatine and Esquiline with the -Campaniles of Santa Maria Maggiore and San Pietro in Vincoli. Over the -Caelian Mount they could see the heights of the Sabine hills, and -running their eyes along the Appian way, they could almost descry the -Alban lake. At a sign from their sovereign the cavalcade slowly set in -motion. Passing the monastery of St. Jerome and its dependencies, the -three churches of the Aventine, Santa Sabina, Santa Maria Aventina and -St. Alexius, the imperial cavalcade at last drew rein before the gates -of Otto's Golden Palace on the Aventine. - -Again in his beloved Rome, Otto's first visit was to Bruno's grave. He -had dismissed his attendants, wishing to be alone in his hour of grief. -Long he knelt in tears and silent prayers before the spot, which seemed -to contain half his young life, then he directed his steps towards the -Basilica of St. Peter, there to conclude his devotions. - -It was now the hour of Vespers. - -The area of St. Peters was filled with a vast and silent crowd, flowing -in and out of the Confessor's station, which was in the subterranean -chapel, that contains the Apostle's tomb, the very lode-stone of -devotion throughout the Christian word. - -After having finished his devotions, Otto was seized with the desire to -seek the confessor, in order to obtain relief from the strange -oppression which hovered over him like a presentiment of evil. Taking -his station in line with a number of penitents, in the dusky passage -leading to the confessional, the scene within was now and then revealed -to his gaze for the short space of a moment, when the bronze gates -opened for the entrance or exit of some heavily burdened sinner. The -tomb was stripped of all its costly ornaments, and lighted only by the -torches of some monks, whose office it was to interpret the -Penitentiarius, whenever occasion arose. These torches shed a mournful -glow over the dusk, suiting the place of sepulchre of martyred saints. -On the tomb itself stood an urn of black marble, beneath which was an -alabaster tablet, on which was engraved the prophecy concerning the -Millennium and the second coming of Christ, and the conditions of -penance and prayer, which were to enable the faithful to share in and -obtain its benefits. Only now and then, when the curtain waved aside, -the person of the Grand Penitentiarius became visible, his hands rigidly -clasped, and his usually pale and stern visage overspread with even a -darker haze of its habitual gloom. - -While Otto was anxiously waiting his turn to be admitted to the presence -of the Confessor, the gates of the confessional suddenly swung open and -a woman glided out. She was closely veiled and in his mental absorption -Otto might scarcely have noticed her at all, but for the singular -intensity of the gaze, with which the monk followed her retreating form. - -As she passed the German King in the narrow passage, her veil became -entangled and she paused to adjust it. As she did so, her features were -for the brief space of a moment revealed to Otto, and with such an air -of bewilderment did he stare at her, that she almost unconsciously -raised her eyes to his. For a moment both faced each other, motionless, -eye in eye--then the woman quickened her steps and hastened out. After -she had disappeared, Otto touched his forehead like one waking from a -trance. Never, even in this city of beautiful women, had he seen the -like of her, never had his eyes met such perfection, such exquisite -beauty and loveliness. She combined the stately majesty of a Juno with -the seductive charms of Aphrodite. In dark ringlets the silken hair -caressed the oval of her exquisite face, a face of the soft tint of -Parian marble, and the dark lustrous eyes gave life to the classic -features of this Goddess of Mediæval Rome. Before she vanished from -sight, the woman, seemingly obeying an impulse not her own, turned her -head in the direction of Otto. This was due perhaps to the strange -discrepancy between his face and his attire, or to the presence of one -so young and of appearance so distinguished among the throngs which -habitually crowded the confessional. - -How long he stood thus entranced, Otto knew not, nor did he heed the -curious gaze of those who passed him on entering and leaving the -confessional. At last he roused himself, and, oblivious of his station -and rank, flew down the dark, vaulted passage at such a speed as almost -to knock down those who encountered him in his headlong pursuit of the -fair confessionist. It was more than a matter of idle curiosity to him -to discover, if possible, her station and name, and after having -attracted to himself much unwelcome attention by his rash and -precipitate act, he gradually fell into a slower pace. He reached the -end of the dark passage in time to see what he believed to be her -retreating form vanish down a corridor and disappear in one of the -numerous side-chapels. Concluding that she had entered to perform some -special devotion, he resolved to await her return. - -Considerable time elapsed. At last, growing impatient, Otto entered the -chapel. He found it draped throughout with black, an altar in the -center, dimly illumined. Some monks were chanting a Requiem, and before -the altar there knelt a veiled woman, apparently under the spell of some -deep emotion, for Otto heard her sob when she attempted to articulate -the responses to the solemn and pathetic litany, which the Catholic -church consecrates to her dead. - -But the German King's observation suffered an immediate check. - -A verger came forward on those soundless shoes, which all vergers seem -to have, and little guessing the person or quality of the intruder -informed him of the woman's desire, that none should be admitted during -the celebration of the mass. Otto stared his informant in the face, as -if he were at a loss to comprehend his meaning, and the latter repeated -his request somewhat more slowly, under the impression that the -stranger's seeming lack of understanding was due to his unfamiliarity -with the speaker's barbarous jargon. - -Otto slowly retreated and deferring his intended visit to the chapel of -the Confessor to an hour more opportune, left the Basilica. As he -recalled to himself, trace after trace, line upon line, that exquisite -face, whose creamy pallor was enhanced by the dark silken wealth of her -hair, and from whose perfect oval two eyes had looked into his own, -which had caused his heart-beats to stop and his brain to whirl, he -could hardly await the moment when he should learn her name, and perhaps -be favoured with the assurance that her visit on that evening was not -likely to have been her last to the Confessor's shrine. - -Imbued with this hope, he slowly traversed the streets of Rome, -experiencing a restful, even animating contentment in breathing once -more the atmosphere of the thronging city, of being once more in a great -center of humanity. At a familiar corner sat an old man with an iron -tripod, over which, by a slow fire, he roasted his chestnuts, a sight -well remembered, for often had he passed him. He threw him some coins -and continued upon his way. Beyond, at his shop-door stood a baker, -deep in altercation with his patrons. From an alley came a wine-vender -with his heavy terra-cotta jars. Before an osteria a group of pifferari -piped their pastoral strains. A few women of the sturdy, low-browed -Contadini-type hastened, basket-laden, homeward. A patrol of -men-at-arms marched down the Navona, while up a narrow tortuous lane -flitted a company of white-robed monks, bearing to some death-bed the -last consolation of the church. - -Otto had partaken of no food since morning and nature began to assert -her rights. Finding himself at the doorway of an inn for wayfarers, -with a pretentious coat-of-arms over the entrance, he entered -unceremoniously, and seated himself apart from the rather questionable -company which patronized the Inn of the Mermaid. Here the landlord, a -burly Calabrian, served his unknown guest with a most questionable -beverage, faintly suggestive of the product of the vintage, and viands -so strongly seasoned that they might have undertaken a pilgrimage on -their own account. - -For these commodities, making due allowance for his guest's abstracted -state of mind, the uncertainty of the times and the crowded state of the -city, the host of the Mermaid only demanded a sum equal to five times -the customary charge, which Otto paid without remonstrance, whereupon -the worthy host of the Mermaid called to witness all the saints of the -calendar, that he deserved to spend the remainder of his life in a -pig-sty, for having been so moderate in his reckoning. - -As one walking in a dream, Otto returned to his palace on the Aventine. -Had he wavered in the morning, had the dictates of reason still ventured -to assert themselves--the past hour had silenced them for ever. Before -his gaze floated the image of her who had passed him in the Basilica. -At the thought of her he could hear the beating of his own heart. -Rome--the dominion of the earth--with that one to share it--delirium of -ecstasy! Would it ever be realized! Then indeed the dream of an -earthly paradise would be no mere fable! - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *THE QUEEN OF NIGHT* - - -A week had passed since Otto's arrival in Rome. Eckhardt, wrapped in -his own dark fancies, had only appeared at the palace on the Aventine -when compelled to do so in the course of his newly resumed duties. The -terrible presentiment which had haunted him night and day since he left -the gray, bleak winter skies of his native land, had become intensified -during the past days. Day and night he brooded over the terrible -fascination of those eyes which had laid their spell upon him, over the -amazing resemblance of the apparition to the one long dead in her grave. -And the more he pondered the heavier grew his heart within him, and -vainly he groped for a ray of light upon his dark and lonely path, -vainly for a guiding hand to conduct him from the labyrinth of doubt and -fear. - -It had been a warm and sultry day. Towards evening dark clouds had -risen over the Tyrrhene Sea and spread in long heavy banks across the -azure of the sky. Sudden squalls of rain swept down at short intervals, -driving the people into shelter. All the life of the streets took -refuge in arcades or within dimly lighted churches. Soon the slippery -marble pavements were deserted, and the water from the guttered roofs -dripped dolefully into overflowing cisterns. A strange atmosphere of -discomfort and apprehension lay over the city. - -The storm increased as evening fell. From the seclusion of the gloomy -chamber he occupied in the old weather-beaten palace of the Pierleoni, -Eckhardt looked out into the growing darkness. The clouds chased each -other wildly and the driving rain obliterated every outline. - -How long he had thus stood, he did not know. A rattle of hailstones -against the window, a gust of wind, which suddenly blew into his face, -and the lurid glare of lightning which flashed through the -ever-deepening cloud-bank, roused Eckhardt from his reverie to a sense -of reality. The lamp on the table shed a fitful glare over the -surrounding objects. Now the deep boom of thunder reverberating through -the hills caused him to start from his listless attitude. Just as he -turned, the lamp gave a dismal crackle and went out, leaving him in -Stygian gloom. With an exclamation less reverent than expressive, -Eckhardt groped his way through the darkness, vainly endeavouring to -find a flint-stone. A flash of lightning which came to his aid not only -revealed to him the desired object, but likewise a tall, shadowy form -standing on the threshold. From the dense obscurity which enshrouded -him, Eckhardt could not, in the intermittent flashes of lightning, see -the stranger's features, but a singular, and even to himself quite -inexplicable perversity of humour, kept him silent and unwilling to -declare his presence, although he instinctively felt that the strange -visitor, whoever he was, had seen him. Meanwhile the latter advanced a -pace or two, paused, peered through the gloom and spoke with a voice -strangely blended with deference and irony: - -"Is Eckhardt of Meissen present?" - -Without once taking his eyes from the individual, whose dark form now -stood clearly revealed in the lightning flashes, which followed each -other at shorter intervals, the same strange obstinacy stiffened -Eckhardt's tongue, and concealed in the gloom, he still held his peace. -But the stranger drew nearer, till in height and breadth he seemed -suddenly to overshadow the Margrave, and once again the voice spoke: - -"Is Eckhardt of Meissen present?" - -"I am here!" the latter replied curtly, rising out of the darkness, and -striking the flint-stones, he succeeded, after some vain efforts, in -relighting the lamp. As he did so, a tremendous peal of thunder shook -the house and the stranger precipitately retreated into the shadow of -the doorway. - -"You are the bearer of a message?" Eckhardt turned towards him, with -unsteady voice. The stranger made no move to deliver what the other -seemed to expect. - -"Everything in death has its counterpart in life," he replied with a -calm, passionless voice which, by its very absence of inflection, -thrilled Eckhardt strangely. "If you have the courage--follow me!" - -Without a word the Margrave placed upon his head a skullcap of linked -mail, and after having adjusted his armour, turned to the mysterious -messenger. - -"Who bade you speak those words?" - -"One you have seen before." - -"Where?" - -"Your memory will tell you." - -"Her name?" - -"You will hear it from her own lips." - -"Where will you lead me?" - -"Follow me and you will see." - -"Why do you conceal your face?" - -"To hide the blush for the thing called man." - -The stranger's enigmatic reply added to Eckhardt's conviction that this -night of all was destined to clear the mystery which enshrouded his -life. - -A mighty struggle, such as he had never before known, seemed to rend his -soul, as with throbbing heart he followed his strange guide on his -mysterious errand. Thus they sped through the storm-swept city without -meeting one single human being. At the top of the Esquiline they came -to a momentary standstill, for the storm raged with a force that nothing -could resist. Leaning for a moment against a ruined portico, Eckhardt -gazed westward over the night-wrapt city. In the driving rain he could -scarcely distinguish the huge structures of the Flavian Amphitheatre and -the palaces on the Capitoline hill. The Janiculan Mount stood out like -a darker storm-cloud against the lowering sky, and the air was filled -with a dull moan and murmur like the breathing of a sleeping giant. On -the southern slope of the hill the wind attacked them with renewed fury, -and the blasts howled up the Clivus Martis and the Appian Way. The -region seemed completely deserted. Only a solitary travelling chariot -rolled now and then, clattering, over the stones. - -The road gradually turned off to the right. The dark mass to their left -was the tomb of the Scipios and there in front, hardly visible in the -darkness of night, rose the arch of Drusus, through which their way led -them. Eckhardt took care to note every landmark which he passed, to -find the way, should occasion arise, without his guide. The latter, -constantly preceding him, took no note of the Margrave's scrutiny, but -continued unequivocally upon his way, leaving it to Eckhardt to follow -him, or not. - -A blinding flash of lightning illumined the landscape far away to the -aqueducts and the Alban hills, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. -The uproar of the elements for a time shook Eckhardt's resolution. - -Just then he heard the clanging of a gate. - -An intoxicating perfume of roses and oleander wooed his bewildered -senses as his guide conducted him through a labyrinthine maze of winding -paths. Only an occasional gleam of lightning revealed to the Margrave -that they traversed a garden of considerable extent. Now the shadowy -outlines of a vast structure, illumined in some parts, appeared beyond -the dark cypress avenue down which they strode at a rapid pace. - -Suddenly Eckhardt paused, addressing his guide: "Where am I, and why am -I here?" - -The stranger turned, regarding him intently. Then he replied: - -"I have nothing to add to my errand. If you fear to follow me, there is -yet time to retreat." - -Had he played upon a point less sensitive, Eckhardt might have turned -his back even now upon the groves, whose whispering gloom was to him -more terrible than the din of battle, and whose mysterious perfumes -exercised an almost bewildering effect upon his overwrought senses. - -A moment's deliberation only and Eckhardt replied: - -"Lead on! I follow!" - -He was now resolved to penetrate at every hazard the mystery which -mocked his life, his waking hours and his dreams. - -On they walked. - -Here and there, from branch-shadowed thickets gleamed the stone-face of -a sphinx or the white column of an obelisk, illumined by the lightnings -that shot through the limitless depth of the midnight sky. The storm -rustled among the arched branches, driving the dead and dying leaves in -a mad whirl through the wooded labyrinth. - -At last, Eckhardt's strange guide stopped before a cypress hedge of -great height, which loomed black in the night, and penetrating through -an opening scarce wide enough for one man, beckoned to Eckhardt to -follow him. As the latter did so he stared in breathless bewilderment -upon the scene which unfolded itself to his gaze. - -The cypress hedge formed the entrance to a grotto, the interior of which -was faintly lighted by a crystal lamp of tenderest rose lustre. - -For a moment Eckhardt paused where he stood, then he touched his head -with both hands, as if wondering if he were dreaming or awake. If it -was not the work of sorcery, if he was not the victim of some strange -hallucination, if it was not indeed a miracle--what was it? He gazed -round, awe-struck, bewildered. His guide had disappeared. - -The denizen of the grotto, a woman reclining on a divan, like a goddess -receiving the homage of her worshippers, was the image of the one who -had gone from him for ever, and the longer his gaze was riveted on this -enchanting counterfeit of Ginevra, the more his blood began to seethe -and his senses to reel. - -Slowly he moved toward the enchantress, who from her half-reclining -position fixed her eyes in a long and questioning gaze upon the -new-comer, a gaze which thrilled him through and through. He dared not -look into those eyes, which he felt burning into his. His head was -beginning to spin and his heart to beat with a strange sensation of -wonderment and fear. Never till this hour had he seen Ginevra's equal in -beauty, and now that it broke on his vision, it was with the face, the -form, the hair, the eyes, the hands, of the woman so passionately loved. -Only the face was more pale--even with the pallor of death, and there -was something in the depths of those eyes which he had never seen in -Ginevra's. But the light, the perfume, the place and the seductive -beauty of the woman before him, garbed as she was in a filmy, -transparent robe of silvery tissue, which clung like a pale mist about -the voluptuous curves of her body, flowing round her like the glistening -waves of a cascade, began to play havoc with his senses. - -"Welcome, stranger, in the Groves of Enchantment," she spoke, waving her -beautiful snowy arms toward her visitor. "I rejoice to see that your -courage deserves the welcome." - -There was an undercurrent of laughter in her musical tones, as she -pointed to a seat by her side. Unable to answer, unable to resist, -Eckhardt moved a few paces nearer. His brain whirled. For a moment -Ginevra's image seemed forgotten in the contemplation of the rival of -her dead beauty. A wild, desperate longing seized him. On a sudden -impulse he turned away, in a dizzy effort to escape from the mesmeric -gleam of those sombre, haunting eyes, which pierced the very depths of -his soul. Fascinated, at the same time repelled, his very soul yearned -for her whose embrace he knew was destruction and he was filled with a -strange sudden fear. There was something terrible in the steadfast -contemplation which the woman bestowed upon him,--something that seemed -to lie outside the pale of human passions, and the pallor of her -exquisite face seemed to increase in proportion as the devouring fire of -her eyes burnt more intensely. - -"Are you afraid of me?" she laughed, raising her arms and holding them -out toward him. - -Still he hesitated. His breast heaved madly as his eyes met those, -which swam in a soft languor, strangely intoxicating. Her lips parted in -a faint sigh. - -"Eckhardt," she said tremulously, "Eckhardt." - -Then she paused as if to watch the effect of her words upon him. - -Mute, oppressed by indistinct hovering memories, Eckhardt fed his gaze -on her seductive fairness, but a terrible pain and anguish gnawed at his -heart. Not only the face, even the voice was that of Ginevra. - -"Everything in death has its counterpart in life:"-- - -That had been the pass-word to her presence. - -One devouring look--and forgetting all fear and warning and all presence -of mind he rushed towards that flashing danger-signal of beauty, that -seemed to burn the very air encompassing it, that living image of his -dead wife, and with wild eyes, outstretched arms and breathless -utterance, he cried: "Ginevra!" - -She whom he thus called turned toward him, as he came with the air of a -madman upon her, and her marvellous loveliness, as she raised her dark -eyes questioningly to his, checked his impetuous haste, held him -tongue-tied, bewildered and unmanned. - -And truly, nothing more beautiful in the shape of woman could be -imagined than she. Her fairness was of that rare and subtle type which -has in all ages overwhelmed reason, blinded judgment and played havoc -with the passions of men. - -Well did she know her own surpassing charm and thoroughly did she -estimate the value of her fatal power to lure and to madden and to -torture all whom she chose to make the victim of her almost resistless -attraction. Her hair, black as night, was arranged loosely under a -jewelled coif. Her eyes, large and brilliant, shone from under brows -delicately arched. Her satin skin was of the creamy, colourless, -Southern type, in startling contrast to the brilliant scarlet of the -small bewitching mouth. - -Beautiful and delicate as the ensemble was, there was in that enchanting -face a lingering expression, which a woman would have hated and a man -would have feared. - -"Ginevra!" Eckhardt cried, then he checked himself, for, her large eyes, -suddenly cold as the inner silence of the sea, surveyed him freezingly, -as though he were some insolently obtrusive stranger. But her face was -pale as that of a corpse. - -"Ginevra!" he faltered for the third time, his senses reeling and he no -longer master of himself. "Surely you know me--Eckhardt,--him whose -name you have just called! Speak to me, Ginevra--speak! By all the -love I have borne for you--speak, Ginevra,--speak!" - -A shadow flitted through the background and paused behind Theodora's -couch. Neither had seen it, though Theodora shuddered as if she had -felt the strange presence of something uncalled, unbidden. - -A strange light of mockery, or of annoyance, gleamed in the woman's -eyes. Her crimson lips parted, showing two rows of even, small white -teeth, then a gleam of amusement shot athwart her face, raising the -delicately pencilled corners of the eye-brows, as she broke into a soft -peal of careless mocking laughter. - -"I am not Ginevra," she said. "Who is Ginevra? I am Theodora--the -Queen of Love." - -Again, as she saw his puzzled look, she gave way to her silvery, mocking -mirth, while her eyes flung him a glittering challenge to approach. -Eckhardt had recovered partial control over his feelings and met her -taunting gaze steadfastly and with something of sadness. His face had -grown very pale and all the warmth and rapture had died out of his -voice, when he spoke again. - -"I am Eckhardt," he said quietly, with the calm of a madman who argues -for a fixed idea,--"and you are Ginevra--or her ghost--I know not which. -Why did you return to the world from your cold and narrow bed in the -earth and shun the man who worships you as one worships an idol? Is it -for some transgression in the flesh that your soul cannot find rest?" - -An ominous shuffling behind her caused Theodora to start. She turned her -head as if by chance and when again she faced Eckhardt, she was as pale -as death. Noting her momentary embarrassment, Eckhardt made a resolute -step toward her, catching her hands in his own. He was dazed. - -"Is this your welcome back in the world, Ginevra?" he pleaded with a -passionate whisper. "Have you no thought what this long misery apart -from you has meant? Remember the old days,--the old love,--have -pity--speak to me as of old." - -His voice in its very whisper thrilled with the strange music that love -alone can give. His eyes burnt and his lips quivered. Suddenly he -seemed to wake to a realization of the scene. He had been mocked by a -fatal resemblance to his dead wife. His heart was heavy with the -certainty, but the spell remained. - -Without warning he threw himself on his knees, holding her unresisting -hands in his. - -"Demon or Goddess," he faltered, and his voice, even to his own ears, -had a strange sound. "What would you have with me? Speak, for what -purpose did you summon me? Who are you? What do you want with me?" - -Her low laugh stirred the silence into a faint tuneful echo. - -"Foolish dreamer," she murmured half tenderly, half mockingly. "Is it -not enough for you to know that you have been found worthy to join the -few chosen ones to whom this earthly paradise is not a book with seven -seals? Like your sad-eyed, melancholy countrymen, you would analyze the -essence of love and try to dissolve it into its own heterogeneous -particles. If you were given the choice of the fairest woman you would -descend into the mouldering crypts of the past, to unearth the first and -last Helen of Troy. Ah! Is it not so? You Northmen prefer a -theoretical attachment to the body of living, breathing, loving woman?" - -He looked at her surprised, perplexed, and paused an instant before he -made reply. Was she mocking him? Did she speak truth? - -"Surely so peerless an enchantress, with admirers so numerous, cannot -find it worth her while to add a new worshipper to the idolatrous -throng?" he answered. - -"Ah! Little you know," she murmured indolently, with a touch of cold -disdain in her accents. "My worshippers are my puppets, my slaves! -There is not a man amongst them," she added, raising her voice, "not a -man! They kiss the hand that spurns their touch! As for you," she -added, leaning forward, so that the dark shower of her hair brushed his -cheek and her drowsy eyes sank into his own, "As for you--you are from -the North.--I love a nature of strongly repressed and concentrated -passion, of a proud and chilly temper. Like our volcanoes they wear -crowns of ice, but fires unquenchable smother in their depths. -And--might not at a touch from the destined hand the flame in your heart -leap forth uncontrolled?" - -Eckhardt met the enchantress' look with one of mingled dread and -intoxication. She smiled, and raising a goblet of wine to her lips, -kissed the brim and gave it to him with an indescribably graceful -swaying gesture of her whole form, which resembled a tall white lily -bending to the breeze. He seized the cup eagerly and drank thirstily -from it. Again her magic voice, more melodious than the sounds of -Æolian harps thrilled his ears and set his pulses to beating madly. - -"But you have not yet told me," she whispered, while her head drooped -lower and lower, till her dark fragrant tresses touched his brow, "you -have not yet told me that you love me?" - -Was it the purple wine that was so heavy on his senses? Heavier was the -drowsy spell of the enchantress' eyes. Eckhardt started up. His heart -ached with the memory of Ginevra, and a dull pang shot through his soul. -But the spell that was upon him was too heavy to be broken by human -effort. Nothing short of the thunder of Heaven could save him now. - -Theodora's words chimed in his ear, while her hands clasped his own with -their soft, electrifying touch. With a supreme effort he endeavoured to -shake off the spell, into whose ravishment he was being slowly but -surely drawn, his efforts at resistance growing more feeble and feeble -every moment. - -Again the voice of the Siren sent its musical cadence through his brain -in the fateful question: - -"Do you love me?" - -Eckhardt attempted to draw back, but could not. - -Entwining her body with his arms, he devoured her beauty with his eyes. -From the crowning masses of her dusky hair, over the curve of her white -shoulders and bosom, down to the blue-veined feet in the glistening -sandals, his gaze wandered hungrily, searchingly, passionately. His -heart beat with wild, mad desire, but, though his lips moved, no words -were audible. - -She too, was silent, apparently watching the effect of her spell upon -him, sure of the ultimate fateful result. In reality she listened -intently, as if expecting some unwelcome intrusion, and once her dark -fear-struck eyes tried to penetrate the deep shadows of the grotto. She -had heard something stir,--and a mad fear had seized her heart. - -Eckhardt, unconscious of the woman's misgivings, gazed upon her as one -dazed. He felt, if he could but speak the one word, he would be saved -and yet--something warned him that, if that word escaped his lips, he -would be lost. Half recumbent on her couch, Theodora watched her victim -narrowly. A smile of delicate derision parted her lips, as she said: - -"What ails you? Are you afraid of me? Can you not be happy, Eckhardt," -she whispered into his brain, "happy as other men,--and loved?" - -She bent toward him with arms outstretched. Closely she watched his -every gesture, endeavouring, in her great fear, to read his thoughts. - -"I cannot," he replied with a moan, "alas--I cannot!" - -"And why not?" the enchantress whispered, bending closer toward him. -She must make him her own, she must win the terrible wager; from out of -the gloom she felt two eyes burning upon her with devilish glee. She -preferred instant death to a life by the side of him she hated with all -the strength of a woman's hate for the man who has lied to her, deceived -her, and ruined her life. Noting the fateful effect of her -blandishments upon him, she threw herself with a sudden movement against -Eckhardt's breast, entwining him so tightly with her arms that she -seemed to draw the very breath from him. Her splendid dark eyes, ablaze -with passion, sank into his, her lips curved in a sweet, deadly smile. -Roused to the very height of delirium, Eckhardt wound his arms round -Theodora's body. A dizziness had seized him. For a moment -Ginevra--past, present and future seemed forgotten. Closer and closer he -felt himself drawn towards the fateful abyss--slowly the enchantress was -drawing him onward,--until there would be no more resistance,--all -flaming delirium, and eternal damnation. - -With one white arm she reached for the goblet, but ere her fingers -touched it, a shadowy hand, that seemed to come from nowhere and belong -to no visible body, changed the position of the drinking vessels. -Neither noted it. Theodora kissed the brim of the first goblet and -started to sip from its contents when a sudden pressure on her shoulder -caused her to look up. Her terror at what she saw was so great that it -choked her utterance. Two terrible eyes gazed upon her from a white, -passion-distorted face, which silently warned her not to drink. So great -was her terror, that she noticed not that Eckhardt had taken the goblet -from her outstretched hand, and putting it to his lips on the very place -where the sweetness of her mouth still lingered, drained it to the -dregs. - -Wild-eyed with terror she stared at the man before her. A strange -sensation had come over him. His brain seemed to be on fire. His -resistance was vanquished. He could not have gone, had he wished to. - -The night was still. The silence was rendered even more profound by the -rustling of the storm among the leaves. - -Suddenly Eckhardt's hand went to his head. He started to rise from his -kneeling position, staggered to his feet, then as if struck by lightning -he fell heavily against the mosaic of the floor. - -With a wild shriek of terror, Theodora had risen to her feet--then she -sank back on the couch staring speechlessly at what was passing before -her. The gaunt form of a monk, clad in the habit of the hermits of -Mount Aventine, had rushed into the grotto, just as Eckhardt fell from -the effect of the drug. Lifting him up, as if he were a mere toy, the -monk rushed out into the open and disappeared with his burden, while -four eyes followed him in speechless dread and dismay. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *THE ELIXIR OF LOVE* - - -It was late on the following evening, when in the hermitage of Nilus of -Gaëta, Eckhardt woke from the death-like stupor which had bound his -limbs since the terrible scenes of the previous night. Thanks to the -antidotes applied by the friar as soon as he reached the open, the -deadly effect of the poison had been stemmed ere it had time to -penetrate Eckhardt's system, but even despite this timely precaution, -the benumbing effect of the drug was not to be avoided, and during the -time when the stupor maintained its sway Nilus had not for a moment -abandoned the side of his patient. A burning thirst consumed him, as he -awoke. Raising himself on his elbows and vainly endeavouring to -reconcile his surroundings, the monk who was seated at the foot of his -roughly improvised bed rose and brought him some water. It was Nilus -himself, and only after convincing himself that the state of the -Margrave's condition was such as to warrant his immediately satisfying -the flood of inquiries addressed to him, did the hermit go over the -events of the preceding night, starting from the point where Eckhardt -had lost consciousness and his own intervention had saved him. - -Eckhardt's hand went to his head which still felt heavy and ached. His -brain reeled at the account which Nilus gave him, and there was a -choking dryness in his throat when the friar accused Theodora of the -deed. - -"For such as she the world was made. For such as she fools and slaves -abase themselves," the monk concluded his account. "Pray that your eyes -may never again behold her accursed face." - -Eckhardt made no reply. What could he say in extenuation of his -presence in the groves? And by degrees, as consciousness and memory -returned, as he strained his reasoning faculties in the endeavour to -find some cause for the woman's attempt to poison him, after having -mocked him with her fatal likeness to Ginevra--his most acute logic -could not reconcile her actions. For a moment he tried to persuade -himself that he was in a dream, and he strove in vain to wake from it. -It was amazing in what brief time and with what vividness all that could -render death terrible, and this death of all most terrible, rushed upon -his imagination. Despite the languor and inertness which still -continued, one terrible certainty rose before him. Far from having -solved the mystery, it had intensified itself to a degree that seemed to -make any further attempt at solution hopeless. During the twilight -consciousness of his senses numerous faces swam around him,--but of all -these only one had remained with him, Ginevra's pale and beautiful -countenance, her sweet but terrible eyes. But the ever-recurring -thought was madness.--Ginevra was dead. - -But the hours spent in the seclusion of the friar's hermitage were not -entirely lost to Eckhardt. They ripened a preconceived and most -fantastic plan in his mind, which he no sooner remembered, than he began -to think seriously of its execution. - -A second night spent in Nilus's hermitage had sufficiently restored -Eckhardt's vitality to enable him to leave it on the following morning. -After having taken leave of the monk, confessing himself his debtor for -life, the Margrave chose the road toward the Imperial palace, as his -absence was likely to give rise to strange rumours, which might retard -or prevent the task he had resolved to accomplish. He was in a state -bordering on nervous collapse, when he reached the gates of the palace, -where the Count Palatine, in attendance, ushered him into an ante-room -pending his admission to Otto's presence. Eckhardt's thoughts were -gloomy and his countenance forbidding as he entered, and he did not -notice the presence of Benilo, the Chamberlain. When the latter glanced -up from his occupation, his countenance turned to ashen hues and he -stared at the leader of the imperial hosts as one would at an apparition -from the beyond. The hands, which held a parchment, strangely -illuminated, shook so violently that he was compelled to place the -scroll on the table before him. Eckhardt had been so wrapt in his own -dark ruminations that he saw and heard nothing, thus giving Benilo an -opportunity to collect himself, though the stereotyped smile on the -Chamberlain's lips gave the lie to his pretense of continuing interested -in the contents of the chart which lay on the table before him. - -But Benilo's restlessness, his eagerness to acquaint himself with the -purpose of Eckhardt's visit, did not permit him to continue the task in -which the general's entrance had found him engaged. The Chamberlain -seemed undaunted by Eckhardt's apparent preoccupation of mind. - -"We have just achieved a signal victory," he addressed the Margrave -after a warm greeting, which was to veil his misgivings, while his -unsteady gaze roamed from the parchment on the table to Eckhardt's -clouded brow. "The Byzantine ceremonial will be henceforth observed at -the Imperial court." - -"What shall it all lead to?" replied Eckhardt wearily. - -"To the fulfilment of the emperor's dream," Benilo replied with his -blandest smile, "his dream of the ten-fold crown of Constantine -Porphyrogenitus." - -"I thought the Saxon crown weighed heavily enough." - -"That is because your crown is material," Benilo deigned to expound, -"not the symbolic crown of the East, which embodies all the virtues of -the gold and iron. It was a stupendous task which confronted us--but -together we have solved the problem. In the Graphia, after much vain -research and study, and in the 'Origines' of Isidor, we found that which -shall henceforth constitute the emblem of the Holy Roman Empire; not the -Iron Crown of Lombardy, nor the Silver Crown of Aix-la-Chapelle, nor the -Golden Crown of Rome--but all three combined with the seven of the -East." - -"Ten crowns?" exclaimed Eckhardt aghast. "On the emperor's frail brow?" - -"Nay," spoke Benilo, with the same studied smile upon his lips, while he -relinquished not for a moment the basilisk gaze with which he followed -every movement of the Margrave. "Nay! They oppress not the brow of the -anointed. The Seven Crowns of the East are: The crown of Ivy, the crown -of the Olive, the crown of Poplar Branches and Oak, the crown of -Laurels, the Mitra of Janus, the crown of the Feathers of the Pea-fowl, -and last of all the crown set with diamonds, which Diocletian borrowed -from the King of the Persians and whereon appeared the inscription: -'Roma Caput Mundi Regit Orbis Frena Rotundi.'" - -Eckhardt listened half dazed to this exhibition of antiquarian learning -on the part of the Chamberlain. What were these trifles to avail the -King in establishing order in the discordant chaos of the Roman world? - -But Benilo was either in excellent spirits over the result of his -antiquarian researches which had made him well nigh indispensable to -Otto, and into which he condescended to initiate so unlettered an -individual as Eckhardt; or he tormented the latter with details which he -knew wearied the great leader, to keep his mind from dwelling on -dangerous matters. Thus continuing his information on these lines with a -suave air of superiority, he cited the treatise of Pigonius concerning -the various modes of triumph and other antiquated splendours as -enumerated in the Codex, until Eckhardt's head swam with meaningless -titles and newly created offices. Even an admiral had been appointed: -Gregory of Tusculum. In truth, he had no fleet to command, because -there existed no fleet, but the want had been anticipated. Then there -were many important offices to be filled, with names long as the ancient -triumphal course; and would not the Romans feel flattered by these -changes? Would they not willingly console themselves with the loss of -their municipal liberties, knowing that Hungary, and Poland, Spain and -Germany were to be Roman provinces as of old? - -Eckhardt saw through it all. - -Knowing Otto's fantastic turn of mind, Benilo was guiding him slowly but -surely away from life, into the wilderness of a decayed civilization, -whose luring magic was absorbing his vital strength. Else why this -effort to rear an edifice which must crumble under its own weight, once -the architect was removed from this hectic sphere? - -With the reckless enthusiasm of his character the imperial youth had -plunged into the deep ocean of learning, to whose shores his studies -with Benilo conducted him. The animated pictures which the ponderous -tomes presented, into whose dust and must he delved, the dramatic -splendour of the narrative in which the glowing fancies of the -chroniclers had clothed the stirring events of the times, deeply -impressed his susceptible mind, just as the chords of Æolian harps are -mute till the chance breeze passes which wakes them into passionate -music. Gerbert, now Sylvester II, had no wish to stifle nor even to -stem this natural sensibility, but rather to divert its energies into -its proper channels, for he was too deeply versed in human science not -to know that even the eloquence of religion is cold and powerless, -unless kindled by those fixed emotions and sparkling thoughts which only -poetical enthusiasm can strike out of the hard flint of logic. - -But now the activity of Otto's genius, lacking the proper channels, -vented its wild profusion in inert speculation and dreamy reverie. -Indistinct longings ventured out on that shimmering restless sea of love -and glory, which his imagination painted in the world, a vague yearning -for the mysterious which was hinted at in that mediæval lore. - -All things were possible in those legends. No scent of autumn haunted -the deep verdure of those forests, even the harsh immutable laws of -nature seemed to yield to their magic. Death and Despair and Sorrow -were but fore-shadowed angels, not the black fiends of Northern imagery. -Their heroes and heroines died, but reclining on beds of violets, the -songs of nightingales sweetly warbling them to rest. - -And the son of the Greek princess resented fiercely any intrusion in to -his paradise. It was a thankless task to recall him to the hour and to -reality. - -The appearance of a page, who summoned Eckhardt into Otto's presence, -put an end to Benilo's effusive archæology, and as the Margrave -disappeared in the emperor's cabinet, Benilo wondered how much he knew. - -What transpired during his protracted audience remained for the present -the secret of those two. But when Eckhardt left the palace, his brow -was even more clouded than before. While his conference with Otto had -not been instrumental in dissipating the dread misgivings which tortured -his mind, he had found himself face to face with the revelation that a -fraud had been perpetrated upon him. For Otto disclaimed all knowledge -of signing any order which relieved Eckhardt of his command, flatly -declaring it a forgery. While its purpose was easy to divine, the -question remained whose interest justified his venturing so desperate a -chance? Eckhardt parted from his sovereign with the latter's full -approval of the course his leader intended to pursue, and so far from -granting him the dispensation once desired, Otto did not hesitate to -pronounce the vision which had interposed at the fatal moment between -Eckhardt and the fulfilment of his desire, a divine interposition. - -Slowly the day drew to a close. The eve of the great festival -approached. - -When darkness finally fell over the Capitoline hill, the old palace of -the Cæsars seemed to waken to a new life. In the great reception hall a -gorgeous spectacle awaited the guests. The richly dressed crowds buzzed -like a swarm of bees. Their attires were iridescent, gorgeous in -fashions borrowed from many lands. The invasion of foreigners and the -enslavement of Italy could be read in the garbs of the Romans. The -robes of the women, fashioned after the supreme style of Constantinople, -hanging in heavy folds, stiff with gold and jewels, suggested rather -ecclesiastical vestments. The hair was confined in nets of gold. - -Stephania, the consort of the Senator of Rome, was by common accord the -queen of the festival which this night was to usher in. Attracting, as -she did on every turn, the eyes of heedless admirers, her triumphant -beauty seemed to have chosen a fit device in the garb which adorned her, -some filmy gossamer web of India, embroidered with moths burning their -wings in flame. - -Whether or no she was conscious of the lavish admiration of the Romans, -her eyes, lustrous under the dark tresses, were clear and cold; her -smile calm, her voice, as she greeted the arriving guests, melodious and -thrilling like the tones of a harp. Amid the noise and buzz, she seemed -a being apart, alien, solitary, like a water lily on some silent -moon-lit pool. At last a loud fanfare of trumpets and horns announced -the arrival of the German king. Attended by his suite the son of -Theophano, whose spiritualized beauty he seemed to have inherited, -received the homage of the Senator of Rome, the Cavalli, Caetani, -Massimi and Stephaneschi. Stephania was standing apart in a more remote -part of the hall, surrounded by women of the Roman nobility. Her face -flushed and paled alternately as she became aware of the commotion at -the entrance. The airy draperies of summer, which revealed rather than -concealed her divine beauty, gave her the appearance of a Circe, -conquering every heart at sight. - -As she slowly advanced toward the imperial circle, with the three -appropriate reverences in use, the serene composure of her countenance -made it seem as if she had herself been born in purple. But as Otto's -gaze fell upon the consort of the Senator of Rome, he suddenly paused, a -deep pallor chasing the flush of joy from the beardless face. Was she -not the woman he had met at the gates of the confessional? A great pain -seized his heart as the thought came to him, that she of whom he had -dreamed ever since that day, she in whose love he had pictured to -himself a heaven, was the consort of another. Before him stood -Stephania, the wife of his former foe, the wife of the Senator of Rome. -And as he gazed into her large limpid eyes, at the exquisite contour of -her head, at the small crimson lips, the clear-cut beauty of the face, -of the tint of richest Carrara marble, Otto trembled. Unable to speak a -word, fearful lest he might betray his emotions, he seized the white, -firm hand which she extended to him with a bewitching smile. - -"So we are to behold the King's majesty, at last," she said with a voice -whose very accent thrilled him through and through. "I thought you were -never going to do us that honour,--master of Rome, and master--of Rome's -mistress." - -Her speech, as she bent slightly toward him, whispering rather than -speaking the last words, filled Otto's soul with intoxication. Stunned -by the manner of his reception, her mysterious words still ringing in -his ears, Otto muttered a reply, intelligible to none but herself, -nerving his whole nature to remain calm, though his heart beat so loudly -that he thought all present must hear its wild throbs even through his -imperial vestments. - -As slowly, reluctantly he retreated from her presence, to greet the rest -of the assembled guests, Otto marked not the meaning-fraught exchange of -glances between the Senator of Rome and his wife. The smiles of the -beautiful women around him were as full of warning as the scowls of a -Roman mob. Once or twice Otto gazed as if by chance in the direction of -Stephania. Each time their eyes met. Truly, if the hatred of -Crescentius was a menace to his life, the favour of Stephania seemed to -summon him to dizzy, perilous heights. - -At last the banquet was served, the company seated and amidst soft -strains of music, the festival took its course. Otto now had an -opportunity to study in detail the galaxy of profligate courtiers and -beauties, which shed their glare over the sunset of Crescentius's reign. -But so absorbed was he in the beauty of Stephania, that, though he -attempted to withdraw his eyes, lest their prolonged gaze should attract -observation, still they ever returned with increased and devouring -eagerness to feast upon her incomparable beauty, while with a strange -agony of mingled jealousy and anger he noted the court paid to the -beautiful wife of Crescentius by the Roman barons, chief among them -Benilo. It seemed, as if the latter wanted to urge the king to some -open and indiscreet demonstration by the fire of his own admiration, -and, dear as he was to his heart, Otto heaved a sigh of relief at the -thought that he had guarded his secret, which if revealed, would place -him beyond redemption in the power of his enemy, the Senator. - -Stephania herself seemed for the nonce too much absorbed in her own -amusements to notice the emotions she had evoked in the young king of -the Germans. But when she chanced to turn her smiling eyes from the -Senator, her husband, she suddenly met the ardent gaze of Otto riveted -upon her with burning intensity. The smile died on her lips and for a -moment the colour faded from her cheeks. Otto flushed a deep crimson -and played in affected indifference with the tassels of his sword, and -for some moments they seemed to take no further heed of each other. -What happened at the banquet, what was spoken and the speakers, to Otto -it was one whirling chaos. He saw nothing; he heard nothing. The gaze -of Stephania, the wife of Crescentius, had cast its spell over him and -there was but one thought in his mind,--but one dream in his heart. - -At the request of some one, some of the guests changed their seats. -Otto noted it not. Peals of laughter reverberated through the high -arched Sala; some one recited an ode on the past greatness of Rome, -followed by loud applause; to Otto it was a meaningless sound. Suddenly -he heard his own name from lips whose tones caused him to start, as if -electrified. - -Stephania sat by his side. Crescentius seemed conversing eagerly with -some of the barons. Raising her arm, white as fallen snow, she poured a -fine crimson wine into a goblet, until it swelled to the golden brim. -There was a simultaneous bustle of pages and attendants, offering fruits -and wine to the guests, and Otto mechanically took some grapes from a -salver which was presented to him, but never for a moment averted his -gaze from Stephania, until she lifted the goblet to her lips. - -"To thee!" she whispered with a swift glance at Otto, which went to his -heart's core. She sipped from the goblet, then, bending to him, held it -herself to his lips. His trembling hands for a moment covered her own -and he drank strangely deep of the crimson wine, which made his senses -reel, and in the trance in which their eyes met, neither noticed the -sphinx-like expression on the face of Benilo, the Grand Chamberlain. - -But if the wine, of which Otto had partaken with Stephania, was not in -reality compounded of magic ingredients, the most potent love philtre -could scarcely have been more efficacious. For the first time it seemed -as if he had yielded up his whole soul and being to the fascination of -marvellous beauty, and with such loveliness exhausting upon him all its -treasures of infinite charm, wit and tenderness, stirred by every motive -of triumph and rivalry,--even if a deceptive apology had not worked in -his own mind, it would scarcely have been possible to resist the spell. - -The banquet passed off in great splendour, enlivened by the most -glittering and unscrupulous wit. Thousands of lamps shed their -effulgence on the scene, revealing toward the end a fantastic pageant, -descending the grand stair-case to some equally strange and fantastic -music. It was a procession of the ancient deities; but so great was the -illiterate state of mind among the Romans of that period, that the ideas -they represented of the olden time were hopelessly perplexed and an -antiquarian, had there been one present, would have thrown up his hands -in despair at the incongruous attire of the pagan divinities who had -invaded the most Christian city. During this procession Otto's eyes for -the third time sought those of Stephania. She seemed to feel it, for -she turned and her lips responded with a smile. - -The night passed like some fantastic dream, conjured up from fairy land. -And Otto carried his dreaming heart back to the lonely palace on the -Aventine. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *THE SECRET OF THE TOMB* - - -While the revelling on the Capitoline hill was at its height, Eckhardt -had approached Benilo and drawing him aside, engaged him in lengthy -conversation. The Chamberlain's countenance had lost its studied calm -and betrayed an amazement which vainly endeavoured to vent itself in -adequate utterance. He appeared to offer a strenuous opposition to -Eckhardt's request, an opposition which yielded only when every argument -seemed to have failed. At last they had parted, Eckhardt passing -unobserved to a terrace and gaining a path that led through an orange -grove behind the Vatican gardens. A few steps brought him to a gate, -which opened on a narrow vicolo. Here he paused and clapped his hands -softly together. The signal was repeated from the other side and -Eckhardt thereupon lifted the heavy iron latch, which fastened the gate -on the inner side and, passing out, carefully closed it behind him. Here -he was joined by another personage wrapt in a long, dark cloak, and -together they proceeded through a maze of dark, narrow and unfrequented -alleys. Lane after lane they traversed, all unpaved and muddy. Another -ten minutes' walk between lightless houses, whose doors and windows were -for the most part closed and barred, and they reached an old time-worn -dwelling with a low unsightly doorway. It was secured by strong -fastenings of bolts and bars, as though its tenant had sufficient -motives for affecting privacy and retirement. The very nature of his -calling would however have secured him from intrusion either by day or -by night, from any one not immediately in need of his services. For -here lived Il Gobbo, the grave digger, a busy personage in the Rome of -those days. Eckhardt and his companion exchanged a swift glance as they -approached the uncanny dwelling; eyeless, hoary with vegetation, rooted -here and there, the front of the house gave no welcome. Eckhardt -whispered a question to his companion, which was answered in the -affirmative. Then he bade him knock. After a wait of brief duration, -the summons was answered by a low cough within. Shuffling footsteps -were heard, then the unbarring of a door, followed by the creaking of -hinges, and the low bent figure of an old man appeared. Il Gobbo, the -grave digger wore a loose gray tunic, which reached to his knees. What -was visible of his countenance was cadaverous and ashen gray, as that of -a corpse. His small rat-like eyes, whose restless vigilance argued some -deficiency or warping of the brain, a tendency, however remote, to -insanity, scrutinized the stranger with marked suspicion, while a long -nose, curving downward over a projecting upper lip, which seemed in -perpetual tremor, imbued his countenance with something strangely -Mephistophelian. - -In a very few words Eckhardt's companion requested the grave digger to -make ready and follow them, and that worthy, seeing nothing strange in a -summons of this sort, complied at once, took pick and spade, and after -having locked and barred his habitation, asked his solicitor to which -burial grounds he was to accompany them. - -"To San Pancrazio," was Eckhardt's curt reply. The silence had become -almost insufferable to him, and something in the manner of his speech -caused the grave digger to bestow on him a swift glance. Then he -preceded them in silence on the well-known way. - -It was a wonderful night. - -There was not a breath of air to stir the dying leaves of the trees. -The clouds, which had risen at sunset in the West, had vanished, leaving -the sky unobscured, arching deep blue over the yellow moon. - -As they approached the Ripetta, the grave digger suddenly paused and, -facing the Margrave and his companion, inquired where the corpse was -awaiting them. - -A strange, jarring laugh broke from Eckhardt's lips. - -"Never fear, my honest friend! It is a very well conditioned corpse, -that will play us no pranks and run away. Corpses do sometimes--so I -have been told. What think you, honest Il Gobbo?" - -The grave digger bestowed a glance upon his interlocutor, which left -little doubt as to what he thought of his patron's sanity, then he -crossed himself and hastened onward. The Tiber lay now on their left, -and an occasional flash revealed the turbid waves rolling down toward -the sea in the moonlight. Eckhardt and his companion exchanged not a -word, as silently they strode behind their uncanny guide. On their left -hand now appeared the baths of Caracalla, their external magnificence -slowly crumbling to decay, waterless and desolate. Towering on their -right rose the Caelian hill in the moonlight, covered with ruins and -neglected gardens. The rays of the higher rising moon fell through the -great arches of the Neronian Aqueduct and near by were the round church -of St. Stephen and a cloister dedicated to St. Erasmus. As they -proceeded over the narrow grass-grown road, the silence which -encompassed them was as intense as among the Appian sepulchres. At the -gate of San Sebastiano, all traces of the road vanished. A winding path -conducted them through a narrow valley, the silence of which was only -broken by the occasional hoot of an owl, or the flitting across their -path of a bat, which like an evil thought, seemed afraid of its own -shadow. Then they passed the ancient church of Santa Ursula, which for -many years formed the center of a churchyard. The path became more -sterile and desolate with every step, only a few dwarfish shrubs -breaking the monotony, to make it appear even more like a wilderness, -until they came upon a ruined wall, and following its course for some -distance, reached a heavy iron gate. It gave a dismal, creaking sound as -Il Gobbo pushed it open and entered the churchyard of San Pancrazio in -advance of his companions. - -Pausing ere he continued upon a way as yet unknown to him, he again -turned questioningly toward his mysterious summoners, for as far as his -eye could reach in the bright moonlight, he could discover no trace of a -funeral cortege or ever so small number of mourners. Instead of -satisfying Il Gobbo's curiosity, Eckhardt briefly ordered him to follow -him, and the grave digger, shaking his head with grave doubt, followed -the mysterious stranger, who seemed so familiar with this abode of -Death. They traversed the churchyard at a rapid pace, until they -reached a mortuary chapel situated in a remote region. Here Eckhardt -and his companion paused, and the former, turning about and facing Il -Gobbo, pointed to a grave in the shadows of the chapel. - -"Know you this grave?" the Margrave accosted the grave digger, pointing -to the grass-plot at his feet. - -The grave digger seemed to grope through the depths of his memory; then -he bent low as if to decipher the inscription on the stone, but this -effort was in so far superfluous, as he could not read. - -"Here lies one Ginevra,--the wife of the German Commander--" - -He paused, again searching his memory, but this time in vain. - -"Eckhardt," supplied the Margrave himself. - -"Eckhardt--Eckhardt," the grave digger echoed, crossing himself at the -sound of the dreaded name. - -"Open the grave!" Eckhardt broke into Il Gobbo's babbling, who had been -wondering to what purpose he had been brought here. - -Il Gobbo stared up at the speaker as if he mistrusted his hearing, but -made no reply. - -"Open the grave!" Eckhardt repeated, leaning upon his sword. - -Il Gobbo shook his head. No doubt the man was mad; else why should he -prefer the strange request? He looked questioningly at Eckhardt's -companion, as if expecting the latter to interfere. But he moved not. -A strange fear began to creep over the grave digger. - -"Here is a purse of gold, enough to dispel the qualms of your -conscience," Eckhardt spoke with terrible firmness in his tones, -offering Il Gobbo a leather purse of no mean size. But the latter -pushed it back with abhorrence. - -"I cannot--I dare not. Who are you to prefer this strange request?" - -"I am Eckhardt, the general! Open the grave!" - -Il Gobbo cringed as though he had been struck a blow from some invisible -hand. - -"I dare not--I dare not," he whined, deprecating the proffered gift. -"The sin would be visited upon my head.--It is written: Disturb not the -dead." - -A terrible look passed into Eckhardt's face. - -"Is this purse not heavy enough? I will add another." - -"It is not that--it is not that," Il Gobbo replied, almost weeping with -terror. "I dread the vengeance of the dead! They will not permit the -sacrilege to pass unpunished." - -"Then let the punishment fall on my head!" replied Eckhardt with -terrible voice. "Take your spade, old man, for by the Almighty God who -looks down upon us, you will not leave this place alive, unless you do -as you are told." - -The old grave digger trembled in every limb. Helplessly he gazed about; -imploringly he looked up into the face of Eckhardt's immobile companion, -but he read nothing in the eyes of these two, save unrelenting -determination. Instinctively he knew that no argument would avail to -deter them from their mad purpose. - -Eckhardt watched the old man closely. - -"You dug this grave yourself, three years ago," he then spoke in a tone -strangely mingled of despair and irony. "It is a poor grave digger who -permits his dead to leave their cold and narrow berth and go forth among -the living in the form they bore on earth! It has been whispered to -me," he continued with a terrible laugh, "that some of your graves are -shallow. I would fain be convinced with my own eyes, just to be able to -give your calumniators the lie! Therefore, good Il Gobbo, take up your -spade with all speed, and imagine, as you perform your task, that you -are not opening this grave to disturb the repose of her who sleeps -beneath the sod, but preparing a reception to one still in the flesh! -Proceed!" - -The last word was spoken with such menace that the grave digger -reluctantly complied, and taking up the spade, which he had dropped, he -pushed it slowly into the sod. Leaning silently on his sword, his face -the pallor of death, Eckhardt and his companion watched the progress of -the terrible work, watched one shovel of earth after the other fly up, -piling up by the side of the grave; watched the oblong opening grow -deeper and deeper, till after a breathless pause of some duration the -spade of the grave digger was heard to strike the top of the coffin. - -Il Gobbo, who all but his head stood now in the grave, looked up -imploringly to Eckhardt, hoping that at the last moment he would desist -from the terrible sacrilege he was about to commit. But when he read -only implacable determination in the commander's face, he again turned -to his task and continued to throw up the earth until the coffin stood -free and unimpeded in its narrow berth. - -"I cannot raise it up," the old man whined. "It is too heavy." - -"We will assist you! Out it shall come if all the devils in hell clung -to it from beneath. Bring your ropes and bring them quickly! Hear -you?" thundered Eckhardt in a frenzy. His self-enforced calm was fast -giving way before the terrible ordeal he was passing through. - -"Would it not be safer to go down and open the lid?" questioned -Eckhardt's companion, for the first time breaking the silence. - -"There is not room enough,--unless the berth is widened," Eckhardt -replied. Then he turned to Il Gobbo, who was slowly scrambling out of -the grave. - -"Widen the berth--we will come down to you!" - -The grave digger returned to his task; then after a time, which seemed -eternity to those waiting above, his head again appeared in the opening. -One shovel of earth after another flew up at the feet of Eckhardt and -his companion. Again and again they heard the spade strike against the -coffin, till at last something like a groan out of the gloom below -informed them that the task had been accomplished. - -"Have you any tools?" Eckhardt shouted to Il Gobbo. - -"None to serve that end," stammered the grave digger. - -"Then take your spade and prise the lid open!" cried Eckhardt. He was -trembling like an aspen, and his breath came hard through his -half-closed lips. The expression of his face and his demeanour were -such as to vanquish the last scruples of Il Gobbo, who belaboured the -coffin with much good will, which was mocked by the result, for it -seemed to have been hermetically sealed. - -After waiting some time in deadly, harrowing suspense, Eckhardt -addressed his companion. - -"I hate to abase my good sword for such a purpose,--but the coffin shall -be opened." And without warning he bounded down into the grave, while -Il Gobbo, thinking his last moment at hand, had dropped pick and spade, -and stood, more dead than alive, at the foot of the grave. - -Picking up the grave digger's spade, Eckhardt dealt the coffin such a -terrific blow that he splintered its top to atoms. A second blow -completely severed the lid, and it lurched heavily to one side, lodging -between the coffin and the earth wall. - -The ensuing silence was intense. - -The moon, which had risen high in the heavens, illumined with her beams -the chasm in which Eckhardt stood, bending over the coffin. What his -eyes beheld was too terrible for words to express. Only one tress of -dark silken hair had escaped the dread havoc of death, which the open -coffin revealed. It was a sight such as would cause the blood to freeze -in the veins of the bravest. It was the visible execution of the -judgment pronounced in the garden of Eden: "Dust thou art, and to dust -thou shall return." - -Only one dark silken tress of all that splendour of body and youth! - -Eckhardt leaped from the grave and stood aside, leaving it for his -companion to give his final instructions to Il Gobbo, the grave digger, -and the reward for his night's labour. - -As they strode from the churchyard of San Pancrazio, neither spoke. The -havoc of death, which Eckhardt's eyes had beheld, the contrast between -the image of Ginevra, such as it lived in his memory, and the sight -which had met his eyes, had re-opened every wound in his heart. No beam -of hope, no thought of heavenly mercy, penetrated the night of his soul. -His heart seemed steel-cased and completely walled up. He could not -even shed a tear. One hour had worked a dreadful transformation. -Silently the Margrave and his companion left the churchyard. Silently -they turned toward the city. At the base of Aventine, Benilo parted -from Eckhardt, himself more dead than alive, promising to see him on the -following day. He dared not trust himself even to ask Eckhardt what he -had seen. There would be time enough when his terrible frenzy had -subsided. - -As Eckhardt continued upon his way, he grew more calm. The feast of -Death, which he had dared to break into, while for a time completely -stupefying him with its horrors, seemed at least to have brought proof -positive, that whoever Ginevra's double, it was not Ginevra returned to -earth. There was much in that thought to comfort his soul, and after -the fresh air of night had cooled his fevered brow, saner reflections -began to gain sway over his whirling brain. - -But they did not endure. What he had seen proved nothing. Another body -might have been substituted in the coffin. The supposition was -monstrous indeed--yet even the wildest surmises seemed justified when -thrown in the scales against the fatal likeness of the woman who had -drawn him from the altars of Christ, had frustrated his design to become -a monk, and had, as he believed, attempted his life. Could he but find -the monk who had conducted the last rites! He had searched for him in -every cloister and sanctuary in Rome, yet all those of whom he inquired -disclaimed all knowledge of his abode. Several times the thought had -recurred to Eckhardt of returning to the Groves, to seek a second -interview with the woman, and thus for ever to silence his doubts. But -a strange dread had assailed and restrained him from the execution. -There was something in the woman's eyes he had never seen in Ginevra's, -and he felt that he would inevitably succumb, should he ever again stand -face to face with her. He almost wished that he had followed Benilo's -advice,--that he had refrained from an act prompted by frenzy and -despair. Vain regrets! He must find the monk, if he was still in Rome. -Though everything and everybody seemed to have conspired against him -nothing should bend him from his course. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *THE GROTTOS OF EGERIA* - - -For the following day the Senator of Rome had arranged a Festival of -Pan, and the place appointed for the divertissement was one which the -Seneschal of the Decameron might have chosen as fit for the reception of -his luxurious masters, where every object was in harmony with the -delicious and charmed existence which they had devised in defiance of -Death. Arcades of vines, bright with the gold and russet foliage of -autumn, ascended in winding terraces to a height, on which they -converged, forming a spacious canopy over an expanse of brightest -emerald turf, inlaid with a mosaic of flowers. In the centre there was -a fountain, which sent its spray to a great height in the clear air, -refreshing soul and body with the harmony of its waters. Between the -interstices of the vines, magnificent views of the whole surrounding -country were offered to the eye, to which feature perhaps, or to the -effect of a dazzling variety of late roses, which grew among the vines, -and the lofty cypresses which made the elevation a conspicuous object in -every direction, it owes its present designation of Belvedere. - -Stephania's spell had worked powerfully on its intended victim. -Surrounded by everything which could kindle the fires of Love and -stimulate the imagination, exposed to the influence of her marvellous -beauty and the infinite charm of her individuality, Otto was devoured by -a passion, which hourly increased, despite the struggle which he put -forth to resist it. Stephania's absence had taught him how necessary -she had become to his existence, and although he was well informed that -she rarely quitted Castel San Angelo, he was yet tortured by the wildest -fancies, entirely oblivious that he had given all his youth, his love, -his heart to a beautiful phantom,--the wife of another, who could never -be his own. And though he endeavoured to reason with his madness, -though he questioned himself where it would lead to, in what strange -manner he had absorbed the poison which rioted in his system, it was of -no avail. The dictates of Fate vanquish the paltry laws of mortals. -This love had come to him unbidden--uncalled. Why must the soul remain -for ever isolated when the unbounded feast of beauty was spread to all -the senses? And was it not too late to retreat? It was the last trump -of the tempter. - -He won. - -As he approached the Minotaurus, Otto's hope brightened with the tints -of the rainbow. For the first time since his return from Monte Gargano -he had discarded his usual cumbrous habiliments, and though his garb was -still that prescribed by the court ceremonial, it added much to display -his princely person to advantage. Confiding much more in the secrecy of -his movements than in the protection of his attendants, Otto had left -the palace on the Aventine unobserved and arrived in the vale of Egeria -with a whirl of passion and a rush of recollections, which not only took -from him all power, but every wish of resistance,--a far more dangerous -symptom. - -Stephania's duenna was in waiting and informed him that the latter had -dismissed her ladies to amuse themselves at their pleasure in the -gardens, while Stephania herself was wreathing a garland for the evening -in the Egerian Grotto, which formed the centre of the fantastic -labyrinth called the Minotaurus, from an antique statue of the monster -which adorned it. Slipping a ring of great value on the old dame's -finger, as a testimony, he said, of his gratitude, for watching over her -mistress, Otto hastened onward. His heart beat so heavily when he came -within view of the rose-matted arches leading to the ancient grotto, -that he was obliged to pause to recover his breath. At that moment a -voice fell upon his ear, but it was not the voice of Stephania, and with -a feeling almost of suffocation in the intensity of his passion, Otto -drew aside the foliage to ascertain whether or not his senses had belied -him. - -The figure of the Minotaurus was cast in bronze, a monstrous bull, -crouched, head to the ground, on the marble pavement of the temple. -Passing the statue, Otto made for the grotto indicated by his guide, -and, raising the tapestry of ivy, which concealed it, disappeared -within. Guided by the warm evening light to its entrance, he hesitated -as if apprehending some treachery. Then, with quick determination he -groped his way into the cavern, paused somewhat suddenly and looked -about. - -It was deserted, but a faint glimmer lured him to the background, where -a fountain gleamed in the purple twilight. - -"Rash mortal," said a voice, in tones that made his heart jump to his -throat, "I think you are now as near as devout worshippers are wont to -approach to my waves, though, as one of the initiated, the vestal nymphs -of these caves bid you very welcome." - -"I have kept my faith," Otto replied, pausing before the veiled -apparition which sat on the rim of the fountain. "But your veil hides -you as effectually from my gaze as a mountain." - -His agitation betrayed itself in his wavering tones. - -"Are you afraid," she asked, noting his hesitancy, "lest I should prove -the fiend who tempted Cyprianus?" - -"All fears redouble in the darkness. Let me see your face!" - -"Why have you come here?" - -"Why have you summoned me?" - -"Perhaps to test your courage." - -"I fear nothing!" - -"One word of mine, one gesture,--and you are my prisoner." - -Otto remained standing. His face was pale, but no trace of fear -appeared thereon. - -"I trust you." - -"I am a Roman,--and your enemy! I am the enemy of your people!" - -"I trust you!" - -"Suppose I had lured you hither to end for ever this unbearable state?" - -"I trust you!" - -Stephania's eyes cowered beneath Otto's gaze. Rising abruptly she -averted her head, but every trace of colour had left her face as she -raised the veil. Then she turned slowly and extended her hand. Otto -grasped it, pressing it to his lips in an ecstasy of joy, then he drew -her down to the seat she had abandoned, kneeling by her side. - -For a moment she gazed at him thoughtfully. - -"What do you want of me?" she then asked abruptly. - -"I would have you be my friend," he stammered, idol-worship in his eyes. - -"Is a woman's friendship so rare a commodity, that you come to me?" she -replied, drawing her hand from him. - -"I have never known woman's love nor friendship,--and it is yours I -want." - -Stephania drew a long breath. Truly,--it required no effort on her part -to lead him on. He made her task an easy one. Yet there rose in her -heart a spark of pity. The complete trust of this boy-king was to the -wife of Crescentius a novel sensation in the atmosphere of doubt and -suspicion in which she had grown up. It was almost a pity to shatter -the temple in which he had placed her as goddess. - -The mood held sway but a moment, then with a cry of delirious gayety, -she wrote the word "Friendship" rapidly on the water. - -"Look," she said, "scarcely a ripple remains! That is the end. Let us -but add another word, 'Farewell'--and let the trace it shall leave tell -when we shall meet again." - -The words died on Otto's lips. He could not fathom the lightning change -which had come over her. With mingled sadness and passion he gazed upon -the lovely face, so pale and cold. - -"Let us not part thus," he stammered. - -Stephania had risen abruptly, shaking herself free of his kneeling form. - -"What is it all to lead to?" she questioned. - -Otto rose slowly to his feet. Reeling as if stunned by a blow, he -staggered after her. - -"Do not leave me thus," he begged with outstretched arms. - -Stephania started away from him, as if in terror. - -"Do not touch me,--as you are a man--" - -Otto's hand went to his head. Was he waking? Was he dreaming? Was -this the same woman who had but a moment ago-- - -He had not time to think out the thought. - -He felt his neck encircled by an airy form and arms, and lips whose -sweetness made his senses reel were breathlessly pressed upon his own. - -But for an evanescent instant the sensation endured. - -A voice whispered low: "Otto!" - -When he tried to embrace the mocking phantom he grasped the empty air. - -He rushed madly forward, but at this instant there arose a wild uproar -and clamour around him. The silver moon on the fountain burst into a -blaze of whirling light, which illumined the whole grotto. The shrill -summons of a bell was to be heard as from the depths of the fountain, -and suddenly the verdant precincts were crowded with a most -extraordinary company, shouting, hooting, laughing, yelling, and waving -torches. Satyrs, nymphs, fauns, and all varieties of sylvan deities -poured out of every nook and cranny by which there was an entrance, all -shrieking execration on the profaner of the sacred solitudes and -brandishing sundry weapons appropriate to their qualities. The satyrs -wielded their crooked staves, the fauns their stiff pine-wreaths, the -nymphs their branches of oak, and a loud clamour arose. But by far the -most formidable personages were a number of shepherds with huge -boar-spears, who made their appearance on every side. - -"Pan! Pan!" shouted a hundred voices. "Come and judge the mortal who -has dared to profane thy solitudes. Echo--where is Pan?" - -Distant and faint the cry came back: - -"Pan! Where is Pan?" - -For a moment Otto stood rooted to the spot, believing himself in all -truth surrounded by the rural gods of antiquity. He stared at the scene -before him as on some strange sorcery. But suddenly a suspicion rushed -upon him that he was betrayed, either to be made the jest of a company -of carnival's revellers, or, perhaps, the object of vengeance of the -Senator of Rome. - -Gazing round with a quick fear in his heart, at finding himself thus -completely surrounded, and meditating whether to attempt a forcible -escape, he was startled by the shrill shriek of sylvan pipes and -attended by a riotous company of satyrs, Pan on his goat-legs hobbled -into the grotto, the satyrs playing a wild march on their oaken reeds. - -"Silence! Where is the guilty nymph who has lured the mortal hither?" -shouted the sylvan god. - -"Egeria! Egeria!" resounded numerous accusing voices. - -"At thine old tricks again luring wisdom whither it should least come?" -questioned Pan, severely. "Yes, hide thyself in thy blushing waves! -But the mortal,--where is he?" - -"Here! Here!" exclaimed the nymphs with one voice. "Had it been old -Silenus or one of his satyrs,--we had not wondered." - -"The King! the King!" resounded on all sides amidst a general outburst -of laughter. - -Otto became more and more convinced that the scene had been enacted to -mock him, and though he did not understand the drift of their purpose, -at which Stephania had doubtlessly connived, a cold hand seemed to -clutch his heart. - -"In very truth, you have the laughing side of the jest," he turned to -the Sylvan god. "But if you will confront me with the nymph, I will -prove that at least we ought to share in equal punishment," Otto -concluded his defence, endeavouring to make the best of his dangerous -position. - -"This shall not be!" exclaimed a nymph near by. "Bring him along and -our queen shall judge him." - -Ere Otto could give vent to remonstrance, he found himself hemmed in by -the shepherds with their spears. His doubts as to the ultimate purpose -of the revellers seemed now to call for some imperative decision, but -while he remembered the dismal legends of these haunts, his lips still -tingled with the magic fire of Stephania's kiss and it seemed impossible -to him that she could really mean to harm him. Still he had grave -misgivings, when suddenly a mocking voice saluted him and into the cave -strode Johannes Crescentius, Senator of Rome,--apparently from the -valley without, a smiling look of welcome on his face. - -"Fear nothing, King Otto," he said jovially. "Your sentence shall not -be too severe. Your forfeit shall be light, if you will but discover -and point out to us the nymph who usurped the part of Egeria, that we -may further address ourselves to her for her reprehensible conduct." - -The feelings with which Otto listened to this beguiling and perhaps -perfidious statement may be imagined. But he replied with great -presence of mind. - -"It were a vain effort indeed to recognize one nymph from another in the -gloom. Lead on then, since it is the Senator of Rome who guarantees my -immunity from the fate of Orpheus." - -Marching like a prisoner of war and surrounded by the shepherd spearmen, -Otto affected to enter into the spirit of the jest and suffered himself -quietly to be bound with chains of ivy which the least effort could snap -asunder. The moment he stepped forth from the grotto his path was beset -by a multitude of the most extraordinary phantoms. The surrounding -woods teemed with the wildest excrescences of pagan worship; statues -took life; every tree yielded its sleeping Dryad; strange melodies -resounded in every direction; Nayades rose in the stream and laughingly -showered their spray upon him. With a cheerful hunting blast Diana and -her huntresses appeared on an overhanging rock and darted blunt arrows -with gilded heads at him, until he arrived at an avenue of lofty elms, -whose overarching branches, filigreed by the crimson after-glow of -departing day, resembled the interior of a Gothic cathedral and formed a -natural hall of audience fit for the rural divinities. Bosquets of -orange trees, whose ivory tinted blossoms gleamed like huge pearls out -of the dark green of the foliage, wafted an inexpressibly sweet perfume -on the air. - -The vista terminated in an open, semi-circular court, surrounded by -terraces of richest emerald hue, in the midst of which rose an -improvised throne. The rising moon shone upon it with a light, like -that of a rayless sun, and Otto discovered that the terraces were -thronged with a splendid court, assembled round a woman who occupied the -throne. - -As the prisoner approached, environed by his grotesque captors, laughter -as inextinguishable as that which shook the ancient gods of Olympus on a -similar occasion, resounded among the occupants of the terrace. -Continuing his forced advance, Otto discovered with a strange beating of -the heart in the splendidly attired queen, Stephania, the wife of -Crescentius. - -A bodice of silver-tissue confined her matchless form, which with every -heave of her bosom threw iridescent gleams, and a diadem which shone as -with stars, so bright were its jewels, flashed upon her brow. - -She looked a queen indeed, and but for the ivory pallor of her face it -would have been impossible to guess that she was in any way concerned -with the object of the strange pageant, which now approached her throne. - -The sphinx-like countenance of the Senator of Rome seemed to evince no -very great enthusiasm in the frolic; the invited guests appeared not to -know how to look, and took their cue from the Lord of Castel San Angelo. - -When Otto was at last brought face to face with his fair judge, his own -pallor equalled that of Stephania, and both resembled rather two marble -statues than beings of flesh and blood. Stephania's lips were tightly -compressed, and when Pan recited his accusation, complaining of an -attempt to profane his solitudes and to misguide one of his chastest -nymphs, so far from overwhelming the culprit with the laughing raillery -of which she was mistress and an outburst of which all seemed to expect, -Stephania was silent and kept her eyes fixed on the ground, as if she -feared to raise them and to meet Otto's burning gaze. - -"Answer, King of the Germans," urged Crescentius with a smile, "else you -are lost!" - -"The charges are too vague," Otto replied. "Let Pan, if he has any -witness, of what has happened, allege particulars--and if he does--by -his crooked staff, even my accusers shall acquit me without denial on my -part." - -General mutterings and suppressed laughter followed this singular -defence, during which Stephania's countenance took all the pallid tints, -which the return of his consciousness and dignity had chased from Otto's -cheeks. - -But she did not think it wise to prolong the scene. - -"Since the august offender," she said hastily and without lifting her -long silken lashes, "cannot discover among my retinue the nymph who -enticed him into the grotto, I pronounce this sentence upon him: 'Let -his ignorance be perpetual.'" - -Then she invited him to a seat in the circle over which she presided and -her graciousness obviously caused Otto's spirits to rise, for, starting -up, as it were, into new existence at the word, he took his station in a -manner which enabled him to see Stephania's face and her glorious eyes. - -At the beck of her hand there now approached a band of musicians and the -effect of their harmonies beneath the hushed and now star-resplendent -skies was inexpressibly delicious. The dreams of Elysium seemed to be -realized. These indeed seemed to be the happy fields, in the atmosphere -of which the delighted spirit was consoled for every woe, and as Otto -almost unwittingly gazed upon the woman before him, so passionately -loved and to him lost for ever; as he marked the languor and melancholy -which had stolen over her countenance, he could hardly restrain himself -from throwing himself and all he called his, at her feet. - -Emperor and king though he was,--the one jewel he craved lay beyond the -confines of his dominion. - -After the conclusion of the serenade, the nymphs of Stephania's retinue -showered their flowers upon the sylvan gods, who eagerly scrambled over -them, when Stephania started up, as from a dream. - -"How is this?" she hurriedly exclaimed, "I still hold my flowers? And -you are all matched by the chances of the fragrant blossoms? But King -Otto is likewise without his due share, and so it would seem that fate -would have him my companion at the collation awaiting us. Therefore, my -lords and ladies, link hands as the flow'ry oracles direct. I shall -follow last with my exalted guest." - -Otto did not remark the quick glance which flashed between Crescentius -and his wife. The ladies of Stephania's retinue immediately conformed -to the expressed wish of the hostess by taking the arms of the cavaliers -who had chanced upon their flowers. - -A number of pages, beautiful as cupids, lighted the way with torches -which flamed with a perfumed lustre, and the procession moved anew -towards the grotto, where, during their absence, a repast had been -spread. But the last couple had preceded them some twenty paces, ere -Stephania, without raising her eyes, took Otto's motionless arm. - -The memory of all that had passed, a natural feeling of embarrassment on -both sides, prolonged the silence between them. Stephania doubtlessly -fathomed his thoughts, for she smiled with a degree of timidity not -unmingled with doubt, as she broke the silence. - -The question, though softly spoken, came swift as a dart and equally -unexpected. - -"Have you ever loved, King Otto?" - -Otto looked up with a start into her radiant face. - -He had anticipated some veiled rebuke for his own strange conduct, -anything,--not this. - -He breathed hard, then he replied: - -"Until I came to Rome, I never gazed on beauty that won from me more -than the applause of the eye, which a statue or a painting, equally -beautiful, might have claimed." - -She nodded dreamily. - -"I have heard it said that the blue-eyed, sunny-haired maidens of your -native North make us Romans appear poor in your sight!" - -"Not so! The red rose is not discarded for the white. The contrast -only heightens the beauty." - -"I have heard it said," Stephania continued, choosing a circuitous path -instead of the direct one her guests had taken, "that you Teutons have -ideals even, while you starve on bread and water. And I have been told -that, were you permitted to choose for your life's companion the most -beautiful woman on earth, you would hie yourselves into the gray ages of -the world's dawn for the realization of your dreams. Has your ideal -been realized, since you have established your residence in Rome, King -Otto?" - -There was a brief pause, then he replied, looking straight ahead: - -"Love comes more stealthily than light, of which even the dark cypresses -are enamoured in your Italian noondays." - -"You evade my question." - -"What would you have me say?" - -She gave him a quick glance, which set his pulses to throbbing wildly -and sent the hot blood seething through his veins. - -"Is your heart free, King Otto?" - -A drear sense of desolation and loneliness came over the youth. - -"Free," he replied almost inaudibly. - -She gave a little, nervous laugh. - -"But how know you that, surrounded by such loveliness, as that which you -have this very night witnessed in my circle, your hour may not strike at -last?" - -Otto raised his eyes to those of the woman by his side. - -"Fair lady, beautiful as Love's oracle itself, my heart is in little -danger even from your fairest satellites. But mistake not my meaning. -I am not insusceptible to the fever of the Gods! Love I have sought -under all forms and guises! And if I found it not, if I have listened -to its richest eloquence as to some song in a foreign tongue, which my -heart understood not,--it is not that I have lacked the soul for love. -Love I found not, though phantoms I have eagerly chased in this troubled -dream of life. What avails it, to contend with one's destiny? And this -is mine!" - -Stephania laughed. - -"You speak like some hoary anchorite from the Thebaide. Truly, now I -begin to understand, why your chroniclers call you the 'Wonder-child of -the World.' Lover, idealist, and cynic in one!" - -"Nay--you wrong me! Cynic I am not! My mother was a princess of -Greece. The fairest woman my eyes ever gazed upon--save one! She died -in her youth and beauty, following my father, the emperor, into his -early grave. I was left alone in the world, alone with the monks, alone -in the great gloom of our tall and spectral pines! The monks understood -not my craving for the sun and the blue skies. The whiter snows of -Thuringia chilled my heart and froze my soul! I longed for Rome--I -craved for the South. My dead mother's blood flows in my veins. Hither -I came, braving the avalanches and the fever and the wrath of the -electors, I came, once more to challenge the phantoms of the past from -their long forgotten tombs, to make Rome--what once she was--the capital -of the earth. Rome's dream is Eternity!" - -Stephania listened in silence and with downcast eyes. - -Never had the ear of the beautiful Roman heard words like these. The -illiteracy, vileness, and depravity of her own countrymen never perhaps -presented itself to her in so glaring a contrast, as when thrown into -comparison with the ideal son of the Empress Theophano and Otto II, of -Saracenic renown. His words were like some strange music, which flatters -the senses, that try in vain to retain their harmonies. - -There was a pause during which neither spoke. - -Otto thought he felt the soft pressure of Stephania's arm against his -own. - -"You spoke of one who alone might challenge the dead empress in point of -fairness," the woman spoke at last and her voice betrayed an emotion -which she vainly strove to conceal. "Who is that one?" - -"Why do you ask?" - -"Theophano's beauty was renowned. Even our poets sing of her." - -"I will tell you at some other time." - -"Tell me now!" - -"We are approaching the grotto. Your guests are waiting." - -"Tell me now!" - -"Crescentius is expecting us. He will be wondering at our tardiness." - -"Tell me now!" - -Otto breathed hard. - -"Oh, why do you ask, Stephania, why do you ask?" - -"Who is the woman?" - -The question fell huskily from her lips. - -The answer came, soft as a zephyr that dies as it passes: - -"Stephania!" - -Quickening their steps they reached the grotto, without daring to face -each other. The woman's heart throbbed as impetuously as that of the -youth, as they found themselves at the entrance of the Grotto of Egeria -in a blaze of light, emanating from innumerable torches artfully -arranged among the stalactites, which diffused brilliant irradiations. -The sumptuous dresses of the nobles and barons blazed into view; the -spray from the fountain leaped up to a great height and descended in -showers of liquid jewels of iridescent hues. - -A collation of fruits and wines wooed the appetite of the guests on -every hand. Sweet harmonies floated from the adjoining groves, and, -amidst a general buzz of delight and admiration, Stephania took her seat -at the festal board between the Senator of Rome and the German king. - -The flower of beauty, wit and magnificence of the Senator's Roman court -had been culled to grace this festival, for there was no one present, -who was not remarked for at least one of these attributes, some even by -the union of all. The most beautiful women of Rome surrounded the -consort of the Senator, who outshone them all. Even envy could not deny -her the crown. - -Nevertheless, and for the first time, perhaps, Stephania seemed to -misdoubt the supremacy and power of her great beauty, and while she -affected being absorbed in other matters, her eye watched with devouring -anxiety every glance of her exalted guest, whose feverish vivaciousness -betrayed to her his inmost thoughts. - -The Senator's countenance was that of the Sphinx of the desert. He -appeared neither to see nor to hear. - -Otto meanwhile, in order to remove from his path the terrible temptation -which he felt growing with every instant, in order to divert Eckhardt's -attention, who he instinctively felt was watching his every gesture, and -to stifle any possible suspicions, which Crescentius might entertain, -affected to be struck with the appearance of one of Stephania's ladies, -who resembled her in stature and in the colour of her hair. He -intentionally mistook her for the fairy in the grotto, laughingly -challenging her acquaintance, which she as merrily denied, declaring -herself to be the wife of one of the barons present. But Otto would not -be convinced and attached himself to her with a zeal, which brought on -both many pointed jests on the part of the assembled revellers. - -Stephania immediately observed the ruse, but as her eye met that of the -Senator, an unaccountable terror seized her. She turned away and -pretended to join her guests in their merriment. Among those present -were some of the most imaginative and prolific minds of an age, -otherwise dark and illiterate, yet the brilliant play and coruscations -of Stephania's wit, the depth of some of the glittering remarks which -fell from her lips, were not surpassed by any. At times she exhibited a -tone of recklessness almost bordering on defiance and mockery, the -lightning's power to scorch as well as to illumine, but when relapsing -into what appeared her more natural mood, it was scarcely possible to -resist the grace and seductiveness of her manner. Even the doctrines, -which half in gayety, half in haughty acceptance of the character -assigned to her on this evening, she promulgated, full of poetical -epicureanism, fell with so sweet a harmony from her lips, that saints -could not have wished them mended. - -Otto, meanwhile, continued to play his serf-assigned part, but he lost -not a single word or gesture of Stephania and his fervour towards his -chosen partner rose in proportion with Stephania's gayety. But he did -not fail to observe that her siren-smile was directed towards himself -and his soul drank in the beams of her beauty, as the palm-tree absorbs -the fervid suns of Africa, motionless with delight. - -While gayety and convivial enjoyment seemed at their height, Eckhardt -strode from the grotto, unobserved by the revellers and entered a -secluded path leading into the remoter regions of the park. Otto's -predilection for the wife of the Senator of Rome had escaped him as -little as had her own seeming coquetry, and he had looked on in silence, -until, seized with profound disgust, he could bear it no longer. - -What he had always feared was coming to pass. - -When the Romans could no longer vanquish their foes on the field of -battle, they destroyed them with their women. - -The gardens which Eckhardt traversed resembled the fabled treasure-house -of Aladdin. Every tree glistened with sparkling clusters of red, blue -and green lights, every flowerbed was bordered with lines and circles of -iridescent globes, and the fountains tossed up spiral columns of amber, -rose and amethyst spray against the transparent azure of the summer -skies, in which a lustrous golden moon shone full. - -But a madness seemed suddenly to have seized the revellers. - -No one knew whither Crescentius had gone. - -No one knew who was a dancer, a flute-player, a noble. - -Satyrs and fauns fell to chasing nymphs with shouting. Everywhere -laughter and shouts were heard, whispers and panting breaths. Darkness -covered certain parts of the groves. Truly it was a long time, since -anything similar had been seen in Rome. - -Roused and intoxicated by the contamination, the fever had at last -seized Otto. Rushing into the forest, he ran with the others. New -flocks of nymphs swarmed round him every moment. Seeing at last a band -of maidens led by one arrayed as Diana, he sprang to it, intending to -scrutinize the goddess more closely. They encircled him in a mad whirl, -and, evidently bent upon making him follow, rushed away the next moment -like a herd of deer. But he stood rooted to the spot with wildly -beating heart. - -A great yearning, such as he had never felt before, seized him at that -moment and the love for Stephania rushed to his heart as a tremendous -tidal wave. Never had she seemed to him so pure, so dear, so beloved, -as in that forest of frenzied madness. A moment before he had himself -wished to drink of that cup, which drowned past and present; now he was -seized with repugnance and remorse. He felt stifled in this unholy air; -his eyes sought the stars, glimmering through the interstices of the -interwoven branches. - -A shadow fell across his path. - -He turned. Before him stood Eckhardt, the Margrave. - -"I have seen and heard," he spoke in response to Otto's questioning -gaze. "King of the Germans, I have enough of Rome, enough of feasts, -enough of conquests. I am stifling. I cannot breathe in this accursed -air. Command the return beyond the Alps. On these siren rocks your -ship will founder! Rome is no place for you!" - -Otto stared at the man as if he feared he had lost his senses. - -"King of the Germans," Eckhardt continued, "on my knees I entreat -you--at the risk of your displeasure,--return beyond the Alps! See what -has become of you! See what a woman has made of you, you, the son of -the vanquisher of the Saracens!" - -He stretched out his arms entreatingly, as if to lead him away. - -Otto covered his face with both hands. - -"And I love only her in the wide, wide world," he muttered. - -At this juncture a light, elastic step resounded on the gravel path. - -Benilo stepped into the clearing. - -"Stephania awaits the king in the pavillion." - -Eckhardt laid his hands on Otto's shoulders, straining his eyes in -silent entreaty into those of the King. - -"Do not go!" he begged. - -Otto winced, but the presence of Benilo caused him to shake himself free -of the Margrave's restraining hand. - -"Stephania is waiting," he stammered. - -"Then you will not grant my request?" Eckhardt spoke with quivering -voice. - -"In Rome we live,--in Rome we die!" - -Taking Benilo's arm he hastened away, leaving Eckhardt to ponder over -his prophetic words. - -For a moment the Margrave remained, straining his gaze after Otto's -retreating form. - -His heart was heavy,--heavy to breaking. Dared he enter the arena -against the Sorceress of Rome? He laughed aloud. - -There are moments when the tragedy of our own life is almost amusing. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *BEYOND THE GRAVE* - - -Eckhardt turned to go, but he had barely moved, when, as if risen from -the earth, there stood before him the tall, veiled form of a woman, who -whispered, flooding his face with her burning breath: - -"I love you! Come! No one will see us!" - -Eckhardt trembled in every limb. He would have known that voice, even -if it had spoken to him from the depths of the grave. The heavy veil -which shrouded the woman's face prevented him from scrutinizing her -features. - -"Who are you?" he stammered, just to say something. Swift as thought she -threw her arms round him, but to recede as swiftly. - -"Hurry! See how lonely it is! I love you! Come!" - -"Who are you?" - -"Can you not guess?" - -He stretched out his arms toward her, but she gambolled before him, as a -butterfly, flitting from flower to flower. - -"Night of Love--night of madness," she whispered. "To-night, if you but -will it, the secret is yours!" - -Her voice thrilled him through and through. The perfume of the -Poppy-flower sank benumbing into his heart. It was her voice,--it was -her form,--was it but a mocking phantom,--what was it? Again she -approached him. - -"Lift the veil!" she spoke in a voice of command. - -With trembling hand he started to obey, when the leaves of the nearest -myrtle-bush began to rustle. - -Eckhardt heard nothing, saw nothing. - -As Benilo stepped into the moonlight, the apparition vanished like a -dream phantom, but from the distance her laugh was heard, strange in -some way, and ominous. - -Eckhardt rushed after the fading vision like a madman. - -Would it mock him for ever, wherever he was, wherever he went? - -How long he had followed it, in headlong, breathless pursuit, as on that -fateful eve, when it had lured him from the altars of Christ, he knew -not. When he at last desisted from the mad and fruitless chase, he -found himself at the base of the Capitoline Hill. Here were scattered -the ruins of the old Mamertine prisons, once a series of cells rising in -stages against the rock to a considerable height. Here were the baths -of Mamertius, where Jugurtha, the Numidian, was starved. There Simon -Bar Gioras, the Jew, was strangled, he, who to the last maintained the -struggle against the victorious son of Vespasian. In the cell to the -right Appius Claudius, the Triumvir, was said to have committed suicide. -Another cell reëchoed from the clangour of the chains of Simon Petrus. -It was not a region where men tarried long, and few relished the fare of -the low taverns, which were strung along the gray wall of Servius -Tullius. For weird and dismal wails were at times to be heard in clear -moonlight nights, and the region of the Capitoline Hill, cut by the old -Gemonian stairs, was in ill repute, as in the days of Republican Rome. - -He had not gone very far when he found himself before the entrance of a -cavern, and Eckhardt's attention was caught by a strange red glow as -from some fire within. As he gazed it died out, and he was left in -doubt, whether it was an illusion of his imagination, or some phenomenon -peculiar to the spot. The prisoners of the Roman state were no longer -conveyed hither for safe-keeping, but confined in the dismal dungeons of -Torre di Nona and Corte Savella. The glimmer he had seen could not -therefore emanate from the cell of some unfortunate, here awaiting his -sentence. Vainly he strained his gaze. All was darkness again within, -and although the moon was high in a clear sky, set with innumerable -stars, their distant glimmer could not penetrate the murky depths. - -Eckhardt waited some minutes and the glimmer reappeared. What urged him -onward to explore the cause of the strange light he could not have told. -Still he dared not venture into the gloom without the aid of a torch. -Quickly resolved he retraced his steps towards the few scattered houses, -near the ancient wall, entered a dimly lighted, evil-smelling shop, -purchased torch and flints and returned to the entrance of the cavern. - -After lighting his torch he entered slowly and carefully, marking every -step he took in the dust and sand, which covered the ground of the cave. -The farther he advanced the more singular grew the spectacle which -greeted his gaze. - -The cavern was of great extent, composed of enormous masses of rocks, -seemingly tossed together in chaotic confusion, and glittering all over -in the blaze of innumerable irradiations, as with serpents of coloured -light, so singularly brilliant and twisted were the stalactites which -clustered within. There was one rock, in which a strong effort of the -imagination might have shaped resemblance to a crucifix. Fastened to -this by an iron rivet, a chain and a belt round his waist, lay the form -of a man, apparently in a deadly swoon, as if exhausted from the -struggle against the massive links. Some embers still burned near the -prisoner and had probably been the means of attracting Eckhardt's -attention. - -Startled by the strange sight which encountered his gaze, Eckhardt -eagerly surveyed the person of the prisoner. He appeared a man who had -passed his prime, and his frame betokened a scholar rather than an -athlete. His head being averted, Eckhardt was not able to scan his -features. - -At first Eckhardt was inclined to attribute the prisoner's plight to an -attack by outlaws who had stripped him, and then, to secure secrecy and -immunity, had left him to his fate. But a second consideration -staggered this presumption, for as he raised his torch above the man's -head, he discovered the tonsure which proclaimed him a monk, and what -bandit, ever so desperate, would perpetrate a deed, which would consign -his soul to purgatory for ever more? Besides, what wealth had a friar -to tempt the avidity of a bravo? - -Vainly puzzling his brain, as to the probable authorship of a deed, as -dark as the identity of the hapless creature, thus securely fettered to -the stone, he looked round. There was no vestige of drink or food; -perhaps the man was starved and slowly expiring in the last throes of -exhaustion. His breath came in rasping gasps and the short-cropped -raven-blue hair slightly tinged with gray heightened the cadaverous -tints of the body, which was of the colour of dried parchment. - -The sudden flow of light, which flooded his eyes, perhaps long -unaccustomed thereto, caused the prostrate man to writhe and to start -from his swoon. His eyes, deeply sunk in their sockets, and flashing a -strange delirious light, stared with awe and fear into the flame of the -torch. - -But no sooner had he encountered Eckhardt's gaze than he uttered a cry -of dismay and would have relapsed into his swoon, had not the Margrave -grasped him by the shoulder in an effort to support the weak, tottering -body. But the cry had startled him, and so great was Eckhardt's dismay, -that his fingers relaxed their hold and the man fell back, striking his -head against the rock. - -"I am dying--fetch me some water," he begged piteously and Eckhardt -stepped outside of the cavern and filled his helmet from a well, whose -crystal stream seemed to pour from the fissures of the Tarpeian rock. -This he carried to the hapless wretch, raising his head and holding it -to his lips. The prisoner drank greedily and stammered his thanks in a -manner as if his tongue had swollen too big for his mouth. - -There was a breathless silence, then Eckhardt said: - -"I have sought you long--everywhere. How came you in this plight?" - -The monk looked up. In his eyes there was a great fear. - -"Pity--pity!" he muttered, vainly endeavouring to raise himself. - -Eckhardt's stern gaze was his sole reply. - -The ensuing silence seemed to both an eternity. - -The monk could not bear the Margrave's gaze, and had closed his eyes. - -"What of Ginevra?" - -Slowly the words fell from Eckhardt's lips. - -The monk groaned. His limbs writhed and strained against the chains -that fettered him to the rock. But he made no reply. - -"What of Ginevra?" Eckhardt repeated inexorably. - -Still there came no answer. - -Eckhardt stooped over the prostrate form like a spirit of vengeance -descended from on high and so fiercely burned his gaze upon the monk -that the latter vainly endeavoured to turn away his face. He could feel -those eyes, even though his own were closed. - -"You stand in the shadow of death," Eckhardt spoke, "You will never -leave this cavern alive! Answer briefly and truthfully,--and I will -have your body consigned to consecrated earth and masses said for your -soul. Remain obdurate and rot where you lie, till the trumpet blast of -resurrection day chases the worms from their loathsome feast!" - -The dying man answered with a groan. - -"What of Ginevra?" Eckhardt questioned for the third time. - -The monk breathed hard. A tremor shook his limbs as he gasped: - -"Ginevra--lives." - -Eckhardt's hands went to his head. He closed his eyes in mortal agony -and for a moment nothing but his heavy breathing was to be heard in the -cavern. When he again looked down upon the prostrate man, he saw his -lips turn purple, saw the film of death begin to cover his eyes. How -much there was to be asked. How brief the time! - -"You chanted the Requiem over the body of Ginevra, knowing her to be -among the living?" - -The monk nodded feebly. - -Eckhardt's breath came hard. His breast heaved, as if it must burst and -his hand shook so violently that some of the hot pitch from the taper -struck the prisoner on the shoulder. He writhed with a groan. - -"What prompted the hellish deceit?" Eckhardt continued. "Did she not -have my love?" - -The monk shook his head. - -"It was not enough. It was not enough!" - -"What more had I to give?" - -"Marozia's inheritance--the emperor's tomb!" - -"Marozia's inheritance?" Eckhardt repeated, like one in a dream. "The -emperor's tomb? What madness is this? She never hinted at a wish -unfulfilled." - -"She asked you never to lift the veil from her past!" - -The monk's words fell like a thunderbolt on Eckhardt's head. - -"How came you by this knowledge?" he questioned aghast. - -"Give me some water--I am choking," gasped the monk. - -Again Eckhardt held the helmet to his lips, while he prayed that the -spark of life might remain long enough in that enfeebled body, to clear -the mystery, at whose brink he stood. - -The monk drank greedily, and when his thirst seemed appeased the water -ran out of the corners of his mouth. He again relapsed into a swoon; he -heard Eckhardt's questions, but lacked strength to answer. - -Stooping over him, Eckhardt grasped him by the shoulder and shook him -mercilessly. He must not die, until he knew all. - -A terrible certainty flashed through his mind. - -This monk knew what was to him a seven times sealed book. - -He had repeated to him Ginevra's wish,--now, nor heaven nor hell should -turn him from his path. - -"I thought,--Marozia's descendants were all dead," he said, fear and -hesitation in his tones. - -The monk feebly shook his head. - -"One lives,--the deadliest of the flock." - -A chill as of death seemed to benumb Eckhardt's limbs. - -"One lives," he gasped. "Her name?" - -Delirium seemed to have seized the prostrate wretch. He mumbled strange -words while his fingers were digging into the sand, as if he were -preparing his own grave. - -"Her name!" thundered Eckhardt into the monk's ear. - -The latter raised himself straight up and stared at the Margrave with -dead, expressionless eyes. - -"In the world, Ginevra,--beyond the grave--Theodora!" - -"Theodora!" A groan broke from Eckhardt's lips. - -"And is this her work?" - -He pointed to the monk's chains, and the iron rivets driven into the -rocks. - -The monk shook his head. The spark of life flickered up once more. - -"Five days without food,--without water,--left here to perish--by a -villain--whom the lightnings of heaven may blast--the betrayer of God -and of man,--I am dying,--remember,--burial--masses--" - -The monk fell back with a gasp. The death-rattle was in his throat. - -Eckhardt knelt by his side, raised his head and tried to stem the -fleeting tide of life. - -"His name! His name!" he shrieked, mad with fear, anguish and despair. -"His name! Oh God, let him live but long enough for that,--his name?" - -It was too late. - -The spark of life had gone out. The murderer of Gregory stood before a -higher bar of judgment. - -There was a long silence in the rock caves under the Gemonian Stairs. -Nothing was to be heard, save the hard breathing of the despairing man. -He saw it all now,--all, but the instigator, the abettor of the terrible -crime against him. If Ginevra was indeed the last link in that long -chain of infamy, which had held its high revels in Castel San Angelo -during the past decades, she could never hope to come into her own -without some potent ally. The thought lay very near, that she might be -intriguing in this very hour to regain the lost power of Marozia. But a -second consideration at least staggered this theory. It rather seemed -as if the man on whom she had relied for the realization of her terrible -ambition had deceived her, after he had made her his own,--or had in -some way failed to keep his pledge,--until, in the endeavour to find the -support she required, she had sunk from the arms of one into those of -another. - -A wild shriek resounded through the cavern. - -Eckhardt trembled at the sound of his own despair. - -Like a caged, wild beast he paced up and down in the darkness. - -The torch had fallen from his grasp and continued to glimmer on the -sand. - -Had it lain within his power he would have shaken down the mighty rock -over his head and buried himself with the hapless victim chained to the -stone. - -In vain he tried to order his chaotic thoughts. - -Monstrous deception she had practised upon him! - -All her endearments, all her caresses, her kisses, her whisperings of -love,--were they but the threads of the one vast fabric of a lie? - -It seemed too monstrous to be true; it seemed too monstrous to grasp! - -And all for what? - -The fleeting phantom of dominion, which must vanish as it -came--unsatisfied. - -How long he remained thus, he knew not. His torch had well nigh burnt -down when at length he roused himself from his deadly stupor. Groping -his way to the entrance of the cave, he stepped into the open. - -Like one dazed he returned to his palace. - -But he could not sleep. - -Profound were the emotions, which were awakened in his bosom, as he set -foot within his chamber. Scenes of other days arose before him with the -vividness of reality. He beheld himself again in the full vigour of -manhood, ardent, impassioned, blessed with the hand of the woman he -loved and anticipating a cloudless future. He beheld her as she was -when he first called her his own, young, proud, beautiful. Her accents -were those of endearment, her looks tenderness and love. They smote him -now like a poniard's point driven to his very heart. He did not think -he could have borne a pang so keen and live. - -Why,--he asked in despair--could not the past be recalled or for ever -cancelled? Why could not men live their loves over again, to repair, -what they might have omitted, neglected and regain their lost happiness? - -Pressing his hands before his eyes, he tried to shut out the beautiful, -agonizing vision. - -It could not be excluded. - -Staggering towards a chair, he sank upon it, a prey to unbearable -anguish. Avenging furies beset him and lashed him with whips of steel. - -He could not rest. He strode about the room. He even thought of -quitting the house, denouncing himself as a madman for having come here -at all. But where was he to go? He must endure the tortures. Perhaps -they would subside. Little hope of it. - -He walked to the fire-place. The air of autumn was chill without. The -embers, still glowing with a crimson reflection, had sunk in the grate. -Aye--there he stood, where he had stood years ago, and oh, how unlike -his former self! How different in feeling! Then he had some youth -left, at least, and hope. Now he was crushed by the weight of a mystery -which haunted him night and day. Could he but quit Rome! Could he but -induce the king to return beyond the Alps. Little doubt, that under the -immense gray sky, which formed so fitting a cupola for his grief, his -soul might find rest. Here, with the feverish pulses of life beating -madly round him, here, vegetating without purpose, without aim, he felt -he would eventually go mad. He had inhaled the poison of the -poppy-flower:--he was doomed. - -Eckhardt did not attempt to court repose. Sleep was out of the question -in his present wrought-up state of mind. Then wherefore seek his couch -until he was calmer? - -Calmer! - -Could he ever be calm again, till his brain had ceased to work and his -heart to beat? Should he ever know profound repose until he slept the -sleep of death? - -Yet what was to insure him rest even within the tomb? Might he not -encounter her in the beyond,--a thing apart from him through all -eternity? During the brief period while he had cherished the thought of -disappearing from the world for ever, he had pondered over many -problems, which neither monk nor philosophers had been able to solve. - -Could we but know what would be our lot after death! - -There was a time, when he had rebelled against the thought that our -footsteps are filled up and obliterated, as we pass on, like in a -quicksand. - -There was a time, he could not bear to think, that yesterday was indeed -banished and gone for ever,--that a to-morrow must come of black and -endless night. - -And now he craved for nothing more than annihilation, complete -unrelenting annihilation. He knew not what he believed. He knew not -what he doubted. He knew not what he denied. - -He was on the verge of madness. - -And the devil was busy in his heart, suggesting a solution he had -hitherto shunned. The thought filled him with dread, tossing him to and -fro on a tempestuous sea of doubt and yet pointing to no other refuge -from black despair. - -He strove to resist the dread suggestion, but it grew upon him with -fearful force and soon bore down all opposition. - -If all else failed--why not leap over the dark abyss? - -A dreadful calm succeeded his agitation. It was vain to puzzle his -brain with a solution of the problem which confronted him, a problem -which mocked to scorn his efforts and his prayers. - -He closed his eyes, vainly groping for an escape from the dreadful -labyrinth of doubt, and sinking deeper and deeper into rumination. -Nature at last asserted her rights, and he fell into fitful, uneasy -slumbers, in which all the misery of his life seemed to sweep afresh -through his heart and to uproot the remotest depths of his tortured -soul. - -When Eckhardt woke from his stupor, the gray dawn was breaking. As he -started up, a face which had appeared against the window quickly -vanished. Was it but part of his dream or had he seen Benilo, the -Chamberlain? - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *ARA COELI* - - -It was not till late that night, that Otto found himself alone. He had -at last withdrawn from the maddening revelry. Silence was falling on -the streets of Rome and the dimness of midnight upon the sky, through -which blazing meteors had torn their brilliant furrows. After -dismissing his attendants, the son of Theophano sat alone in the lonely -chamber of his palace on the Aventine. A sense of death-like desolation -had come over him. Never had the palace seemed so vast and so silent. -And he--he, the lord of it all--he had no loving heart to turn to, no -one, that understood him with a woman's intuition. The waves of destiny -seemed to close over him and the circumstances of his past rose poignant -and vivid before his fading sight. - -But uppermost in his soul was the certainty that he could not further -behold Stephania with impunity. When he recalled the meeting in the -Minotaurus and the subsequent events of the evening, he lost all peace -of mind. What then would be the result of a new meeting? What would -become of him, should he thereafter find himself unable to contain his -passion in darkness and in silence? Would he exhibit to the world the -ridiculous spectacle of an insane lover, or would he, by some unheedful -action, bring down upon himself the disdainful pity of the woman, unable -as he was to resist the vertigo of her fascination? - -He gazed out into the moonlit night. The ancient monuments stood out -mournful and deserted as a line of tombs. The city seemed a graveyard, -and himself but a disembodied ghost of the dead past. - -Gradually the hour laid its tranquillizing hush upon him. By degrees, -with the dim light of the candles, he grew drowsy. His mental images -became more and more indistinct, and he gradually drifted away into the -land of dreams. After a time he was awakened by a light that shone upon -his face. Starting up, Otto was for a moment overcome by a strange -sensation of faintness, which vanished as he gazed into the face of -Benilo, whom his anxiety had carried to the side of the King after -having in vain searched for him among the late revellers on the -Capitoline hill. - -Otto smiled at the expression of anxiety in the Roman's face. - -"'Twas naught, save that I was weary," he replied to Benilo's concerned -inquiry. "'Tis many a week since we revelled so late. But perchance -you had best leave me now, that I may rest." - -Benilo withdrew and Otto fell into a fitful slumber filled with hazy -visions, in which the persons of Crescentius and Stephania were -strangely mingled, melting rapidly from one into the other. - -He slept later than usual on the following day. When the shadows of -evening began to fall over the undulating expanse of the Roman Campagna, -Otto left the palace on the Aventine by a postern gate. This hour he -wished to be free from all affairs of state, from all intrusions and -cares. This hour he wished fitly to prepare himself for the great work -of his life. In the dreamy solitude he would question his own heart as -to his future course with regard to Stephania. - -The evening was serene and fair. The brick skeletons of arches, vaults -and walls glowed fiery in the rays of the sinking sun. Among olives and -acanthus was heard the bleating of sheep and the chirrup of the -grasshopper. - -Otto descended the tangled foot-path on the northern slope of the -Aventine, not far from the gardens of Capranica, and soon reached the -foot of the Capitoline hill, the ruins of the temple of Saturnus, the -place where in the days of glory had stood the ancient Forum. From the -arch of Septimius Severus as far as the Flavian Amphitheatre the Via -Sacra was flanked with wretched hovels. Their foundations were formed -of fragments of statues, of the limbs and torsos of Olympian gods. For -centuries the Forum had been a quarry. Christian churches languished on -the ruins of pagan shrines. Still lofty columns soared upward through -the desolation, carrying sculptured architraves, last traces of a -vanished art. Here a feudal tower leaned against the arch of Titus; -beside it a tavern befouled the fallen columns, the marble slabs, the -half defaced inscription. Behind it rose the arch, white and pure, less -shattered than the remaining monuments. The sunlight streaming through -it from the direction of the Capitol lighted up the bas-relief of the -Emperor's triumph, the malodorous curls of smoke from the tavern -appearing like clouds of incense. - -Otto's heart beat fast as, turning once more into the Forum, he heard -the dreary jangling of bells from the old church of Santa Maria -Liberatrice, sounding the Angelus. It seemed to him like a dirge over -the fallen greatness of Rome. Half unconsciously he directed his steps -toward the Coliseum. Seating himself on the broken steps of the -Amphitheatre, he gazed up at the blue heavens, shining through the gaps -in the Coliseum walls. - -Sudden flushes of crimson flamed up in the western horizon. Slowly the -sun was sinking to rest. A pale yellow moon had sailed up from behind -the stupendous arches of Constantine's Basilica, severing with her disk -a bed of clouds, transparent and delicately tinted as sea-shells. The -three columns in front of Santa Maria Liberatrice shone like phantoms in -the waning light of evening. And the bell sounding the Christian -Angelus seemed more than ever like a dirge over the forgotten Rome of -the past. - -Wrapt in deep reveries, Otto continued upon his way. He had lost all -sense of life and reality. It was one of those moments when time and -the world seem to stand still, drifting away on those delicate -imperceptible lines that lie between reality and dream-land. And the -solitary rambler gave himself up to the half painful, half delicious -sense of being drawn in, absorbed and lost in infinite imaginings, when -the intense stillness around him was broken by the peals of distant -convent bells, ringing with silvery clearness through the evening calm. - -Suddenly Otto paused, all his life-blood rushing to his heart. - -At the lofty flight of stairs, by which the descent is made from Ara -Coeli, stood Stephania. - -She had come out of the venerable church, filled with the devout -impressions of the mass just recited. The chant still rang in her ears -as she passed down the long line of uneven pillars, which we see to-day, -and across the sculptured tombs set in the pavement which the -reverential tread of millions has worn to smooth indistinctness. Now -the last rays of the sun flooded all about her, mellowing the tints of -verdure and drooping foliage, and softening the outlines of the Alban -hills. - -As she looked down she saw the German king and met his upturned gaze. -For a moment she seemed to hesitate. The sunlight fell on her pale face -and touched with fire the dark splendour of her hair. Slowly she -descended the long flight of stairs. - -They faced each other in silence and Otto had leisure to steal a closer -look at her. He was struck by the touch of awe which had suddenly come -upon her beauty. Perhaps the evening light spiritualized her pure and -lofty countenance, for as Otto looked upon her it seemed to him that she -was transformed into a being beyond earthly contact and his heart sank -with a sense of her remoteness. - -Timidly he lifted her hand and pressed his lips upon it. - -Silence intervened, a silence freighted with the weight of suspended -destinies. There was indeed more to be felt between them, than to be -said. But what mattered it, so the hour was theirs? The narrow kingdom -of to-day is better worth ruling than the widest sweep of past and -future, but not more than once does man hold its fugitive sceptre. Otto -felt the nearness of that penetrating sympathy, which is almost a gift -of divination. The mere thought of her had seemed to fill the air with -her presence. - -Steadily, searchingly, she gazed at the thoughtful and earnest -countenance of Otto, then she spoke with a touch of domineering -haughtiness: - -"Why are you here?" - -He met her gaze eye in eye. - -"I was planning for the future of Rome,--and dreaming of the past." - -She bent her proud head, partly in acknowledgment of his words, partly -to conceal her own confusion. - -"The past is buried," she replied coldly, "and the future dark and -uncertain." - -"And why may it not be mine,--to revive that past?" - -"No sunrise can revive that which has died in the sunset glow." - -"Then you too despair of Rome ever being more than a memory of her dead -self?" - -She looked at him amusedly. - -"I am living in the world--not in a dream." - -Otto pointed to the Capitoline hill. - -"Yet see how beautiful it is, this Rome of the past!" he spoke with -repressed enthusiasm. "Is it not worth braving the dangers of the -avalanches that threaten to crush rider and horse--even the wrath of -your countrymen, who see in us but unbidden, unwelcome invaders? Ah! -Little do they know the magic which draws us hither to their sunny -shores from the gloom of our Northern forests! Little they know the -transformation this land of flowers works on the frozen heart, that -yearns for your glowing, sun-tinted vales!" - -"Why did you come to Rome?" she questioned curtly. "To remind us of -these trifles,--and incidentally to dispossess us of our time-honoured -rights and power?" - -Otto shook his head. - -"I came not to Rome to deprive the Romans of their own,--rather to -restore to them what they have almost forgotten--their glorious past." - -"It is useless to remind those who do not wish to be reminded," she -replied. "The avalanche of centuries has long buried memory and -ambition in those you are pleased to call Romans. Desist, I beg of you, -to pursue a phantom which will for ever elude you, and return beyond the -Alps to your native land!" - -"And Stephania prefers this request?" Otto faltered, turning pale. - -"Stephania--the consort of the Senator of Rome." - -There was a pause. - -Through the overhanging branches glimmered the pale disk of the moon. A -soft breeze stirred the leaves of the trees. There was a hushed -breathlessness in the air. Fantastic, dream-like, light and shadows -played on the majestic tide of the Tiber, and all over the high summits -of the hills mysterious shapes, formed of purple and gray mists, rose up -and crept softly downward, winding in and out the valleys, like -wandering spirits, sent on some hidden, sorrowful errand. - -Gazing up wistfully, Stephania saw the look of pain in Otto's face. - -"I ask what I have," she said softly, "because I know the temper of my -countrymen." - -"What would you make of me?" he replied. "On this alone my heart is -set. Take it from me,--I would drift an aimless barque on the tide of -time." - -She shook her head but avoided his gaze. - -"You aim to accomplish the impossible. Crows do not feed on the living, -and the dead do not rise again. Ah! How, if your miracle does not -succeed?" - -Otto drew himself up to his full height. - -"Gloria Victis,--but before my doom, I shall prove worthy of myself." - -Suddenly a strange thought came over him. - -"Stephania," he faltered, "what do you want with me?" - -"I want you to be frankly my foe," exclaimed the beautiful wife of -Crescentius. "You must not pass by like this, without telling me that -you are. You speak of a past. Sometimes I think it were better, if -there had been no past. Better burn a corpse than leave it unburied. -All the friends of my dreams are here,--their shades surround us,--in -their company one grows afraid as among the shroudless dead. It is -impossible. You cannot mean the annihilation of the past, you cannot -mean to be against Rome--against me!" - -Otto faced her, pale and silent, vainly striving to speak. He dared not -trust himself. As he stepped back, she clutched his arm. - -"Tell me that you are my enemy," she said, with heart-broken challenge -in her voice. - -"Stephania!" - -"Tell me that you hate me." - -"Stephania--why do you ask it?" - -"To justify my own ends," she replied. Then she covered her face with -her hands. - -"Tell me all," she sobbed. "I must know all. Do you not feel how near -we are? Are you indeed afraid to speak?" - -She gazed at him with moist, glorious eyes. - -Striding up and down before the woman, Otto vainly groped for words. - -"Otto," she approached him gently, "do you believe in me?" - -"Can you ask?" - -"Wholly?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I thought,--feared,--that you suffered from the same malady as we -Romans." - -"What malady?" - -"Distrust." - -There was a pause. - -"The temple is beautiful in the moonlight," Stephania said at last. -"They tell me you like relics of the olden time. Shall we go there?" - -Otto's heart beat heavily as by her side he strode down the narrow path. -They approached a little ruined temple, which ivy had invaded and -overrun. Fragments lay about in the deep grass. A single column only -remained standing and its lonely capital, clear cut as the petals of a -lily, was outlined in clear silhouette against the limpid azure. - -At last he spoke--with a voice low and unsteady. - -"Be not too hard on me, Stephania, for my love of the world that lies -dead around us. I scarcely can explain it to you. The old simple -things stir strange chords within me. I love the evening more than the -morning, autumn better than spring. I love all that is fleeting, even -the perfume of flowers that have faded, the pleasant melancholy, the -golden fairy-twilight. Remembrance has more power over my soul than -hope." - -"Tell me more," Stephania whispered, her head leaning back against the -column and a smile playing round her lips. "Tell me more. These are -indeed strange sounds to my ear. I scarcely know if I understand them." - -He gazed upon her with burning eyes. - -"No--no! Why more empty dreams, that can never be?" - -She pointed in silence to the entrance of the temple. - -Otto held out both hands, to assist her in descending the sloping rock. -She appeared nervous and uncertain of foot. Hurriedly and agitated, -anxious to gain the entrance she slipped and nearly fell. In the next -moment she was caught up in his arms and clasped passionately to his -heart. - -"Stephania--Stephania," he whispered, "I love you--I love you! Away -with every restraint! Let them slay me, if they will, by every death my -falsehood deserves,--but let it be here,--here at your feet." - -Stephania trembled like an aspen in his strong embrace, and strove to -release herself, but he pressed her more closely to him, scarcely -knowing that he did so, but feeling that he held the world, life, -happiness and salvation in this beautiful Roman. His brain was in a -whirl; everything seemed blotted out,--there was no universe, no -existence, no ambition, nothing but love,--love,--love,--beating through -every fibre of his frame. - -The woman was very pale. - -Timidly she lifted her head. He gazed at her in speechless suspense; he -saw as in a vision the pure radiance of her face, the star-like eyes -shining more and more closely into his. Then came a touch, soft and -sweet as a rose-leaf pressed against his lips and for one moment he -remembered nothing. Like Paris of old, he was caught up in a cloud of -blinding gold, not knowing which was earth, which heaven. - -For a moment nothing was to be heard, save the hard breathing of these -two, then Otto held Stephania off at an arm's length, gazing at her, his -soul in his eyes. - -"You are more beautiful than the angels," he whispered. - -"The fallen angels," was her smiling reply. - -Then with a quick, spontaneous movement she flung her bare arms round -his neck and drew him toward her. - -"And if I did come toward you to prophesy glory and the fulfilment of -your dreams?" she murmured, even as a sibyl. "You alone are alive among -the dead! What matters it to me that your love is hopeless, that our -wings are seared? My love is all for the rejected! I love the proud and -solitary eagle better than the stained vulture." - -He felt the fire of the strange insatiate kiss of her lips and reeled. -It seemed as if the Goddess of Love in the translucence of the moon, had -descended, embracing him, mocking to scorn the anguish that consumed his -heart, but to vanish again in the lunar shadows. - -"Stephania--" he murmured reeling, drunk with the sweetness of her lips. - -Never perhaps had the beautiful Roman bestowed on mortal man such a -glance, as now beamed from her eyes upon the youth. The perfume of her -hair intoxicated his senses. Her breath was on his cheek, her sweet -lips scarce a hand's breath from his own. - -Had Lucifer, the prince of darkness, himself appeared at this moment, or -Crescentius started up like a ghost from the gaping stone floor, -Stephania could scarcely have changed as suddenly as she did, to the -cold impassive rigidity of marble. Following the direction of her stony -gaze, Otto beheld emerging as it were from the very rocks above him a -dark face and mailed figure, which he recognized as Eckhardt's. Whether -or not the Margrave was conscious of having thus unwittingly interrupted -an interview,--if he had seen, his own instincts at once revealed to him -the danger of his position. Eckhardt's countenance wore an expression of -utter unconcern, as he passed on and vanished in the darkness. - -For a moment Otto and Stephania gazed after his retreating form. - -"He has seen nothing," Otto reassured her. - -"To-morrow," she replied, "we meet here again at the hour of the -Angelas. And then," she added changing her tone to one of deepest -tenderness, "I will test your love,--your constancy,--your loyalty." - -They faced each other in a dead silence. - -"Do not go," he faltered, extending his hands. - -She slowly placed her own in them. It was a moment upon which hung the -fate of two lives. Otto felt her weakness in her look, in the touch of -her hands, which shivered, as they lay in his, as captive birds. And -the long smothered cry leaped forth from his heart: What was crown, -life, glory--without love! Why not throw it all away for a caress of -that hand? What mattered all else? - -But the woman became strong as he grew weak. - -"Go!" she said faintly. "Farewell,--till to-morrow." - -He dropped her hands, his eyes in hers. - -Giving one glance backward, where Eckhardt had disappeared, Stephania -first began to move with hesitating steps, then seized by an -irresistible panic, she gathered up her trailing robe and ran -precipitately up the steep path, her fleeting form soon disappearing in -the moonlight. - -Otto remained another moment, then he too stepped out into the clear -moonlit night. In silent rumination he continued his way toward the -Aventine. - -Past and future seemed alike to have vanished for him. Time seemed to -have come to a stand-still. - -Suddenly he imagined that a shadow stealthily crossed his path. He -paused, turned--but there was no one. - -Calmly the stars looked down upon him from the azure vault of heaven. - -And like a spider in his web, Johannes Crescentius sat in Castel San -Angelo. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *THE GOTHIC TOWER* - - -Deep quiet reigned in the city, when a man, enveloped in a mantle, whose -dimly shadowed form was outlined against the massive, gray walls of -Constantine's Basilica glided slowly and cautiously from among the -blocks of stone scattered round its foundations and advanced to the -fountain which then formed the centre of the square, where the Obelisk -now stands. There he stopped and, concealed by the obscurity of the -night and the deeper shadows of the monument, glanced furtively about, -as if to be sure that he was unobserved. Then drawing his sword, he -struck three times upon the pavement, producing at each stroke light -sparks from its point. This signal, for such it was, was forthwith -answered. From the remote depths of the ruins the cry of the -screech-owl was thrice in succession repeated, and, guided by the -ringing sound, a second figure emerged from the weeds, which were in -some places the height of a man. Obeying the signal of the first comer, -the second, who was likewise enveloped in a mantle, silently joined him -and together they proceeded half-way down the Borgo Vecchio, then turned -to the right and entered a street, at the remote extremity of which -there was a figure of the Madonna with its lamp. - -Onward they walked with rapid steps, traversed the Borgo Santo Spirito -and followed the street Della Lingara to where it opens upon the church -Regina Coeli. After having pursued their way for some time in silence -they entered a narrow winding path, which conducted them through a -deserted valley, the silence of which was only broken by the occasional -hoot of an owl or the fitful flight of a bat. In the distance could be -heard the splashing of water from the basin of a fountain, half obscured -by vines and creepers, from which a thin, translucent stream was pouring -and bubbling down the Pincian hillsides in the direction of Santa -Trinita di Monte. - -They lost themselves in a maze of narrow and little frequented lanes, -until at last they found themselves before a gray, castellated building, -half cloister, half fortress, rising out of the solitudes of the -Flaminian way, before which they stopped. Over the massive door were -painted several skeletons in the crude fashion of the time, standing -upright with mitres, sceptres and crowns upon their heads, holding -falling scrolls, with faded inscriptions in their bony grasp. - -The one, who appeared to be the moving spirit of the two, knocked in a -peculiar manner at the heavy oaken door. After a wait of some duration -they heard the creaking of hinges. Slowly the door swung inward and -closed immediately behind them. They entered a gloomy passage. A -number of owls, roused by the dim light from the lantern of the warden, -began to fly screeching about, flapping their wings against the walls -and uttering strange cries. After ascending three flights of stairs, -preceded by the warden, whose appearance was as little inviting as his -abode, they paused before a chamber, the door of which their guide had -pushed open, remaining himself on the threshold, while his two visitors -entered. - -"How is the girl?" questioned the foremost in a whisper, to which the -warden made whispered reply. - -Beckoning his companion to follow him, the stranger then passed into the -room, which was dimly illumined by the flickering light of a taper. -Throwing off his mantle, Eckhardt surveyed with a degree of curiosity -the apartment and its scanty furnishings. Nothing could be more dreary -than the aspect of the place. The richly moulded ceiling was festooned -with spiders' webs and in some places had fallen in heaps upon the -floor. The glories of Byzantine tapestry had long been obliterated by -age and time. The squares of black and white marble with which the -chamber was paved were loosened and quaked beneath the foot-steps and -the wide and empty fireplace yawned like the mouth of a cavern. - -Straining his gaze after the harper who was bending over a couch in a -remote corner of the room, Eckhardt was about to join him when Hezilo -approached him. - -"Would you like to see?" he asked, his eyes full of tears. - -Eckhardt bowed gravely, and with gentle foot-steps they approached a bed -in the corner of the room, on which there reposed the figure of a girl, -lying so still and motionless that she might have been an image of wax. -Her luxurious brown hair was spread over the pillow and out of this -frame the pinched white face with all its traces of past beauty looked -out in pitiful silence. One thin hand was turned palm downward on the -coverlet, and as they approached the fingers began to work convulsively. - -Hezilo bent over her, and touched her brow with his lips. - -"Little one," he said, "do you sleep?" - -The girl opened her sightless eyes, and a faint smile, that illumined -her face, making it wondrously beautiful, passed over her countenance. - -"Not yet," she spoke so low that Eckhardt could scarcely catch the -words, "but I shall sleep soon." - -He knew what she meant, for in her face was already that look which -comes to those who are going away. Hezilo looked down upon her in -silence, but even as he did so a change for the worse seemed to come to -the sick girl, and they became aware that the end had begun. He tried -to force some wine between her lips, but she could not swallow, and now, -instead of lying still, she continued tossing her head from side to -side. Hezilo was undone. He could do nothing but stand at the head of -the bed in mute despair, as he watched the parting soul of his child sob -its way out. - -"Angiola--Angiola--do not leave me--do not go from me!" the harper cried -in heart-rending anguish, kneeling down before the bed of the girl and -taking her cold, clammy hands into his own. Impelled by a power he -could not resist, Eckhardt knelt and tried to form some words to reach -the Most High. But they would not come; he could only feel them, and he -rose again and took his stand by the dying girl. - -She now began to talk in a rambling manner and with that strength which -comes at the point of death from somewhere; her voice was clear but with -a metallic ring. What Eckhardt gathered from her broken words, was a -story of trusting love, of infamous wrong, of dastardly crime. And the -harper shook like a branch in the wind as the words came thick and fast -from the lips of his dying child. After a while she became still--so -still, that they both thought she had passed away. But she revived on a -sudden and called out: - -"Father,--I cannot see,--I am blind,--stoop down and let me whisper--" - -"I am here little one, close--quite close to you!" - -"Tell him,--I forgive-- And you forgive him too--promise!" - -The harper pressed his lips to the damp forehead of his child but spoke -no word. - -"It is bright again--they are calling me--Mother! Hold me up--I cannot -breathe." - -Hezilo sank on his knees with his head between his hands, shaken by -convulsive sobs, while Eckhardt wound his arm round the dying girl, and -as he lifted her up the spirit passed. In the room there was deep -silence, broken only by the harper's heart-rending sobs. He staggered -to his feet with despair in his face. - -"She said forgive!" he exclaimed with broken voice. "Man--you have seen -an angel die!" - -"Who is the author of her death?" Eckhardt questioned, his hands so -tightly clenched, that he almost drove the nails into his own flesh. - -If ever words changed the countenance of man, the Margrave's question -transformed the harper's grief into flaming wrath. - -"A devil, a fiend, who first outraged, then cast her forth blinded, to -die like a reptile," he shrieked in his mastering grief. "Surely God -must have slept, while this was done!" - -There was a breathless hush in the death-chamber. - -Hezilo was bending over the still face of his child. The dead girl lay -with her hands crossed over her bosom, still as if cut out of marble and -on her face was fixed a sad little smile. - -At last the harper arose. - -Staggering to the door he gave some whispered instructions to the -individual who seemed to fill the office of warden, then beckoned -silently to Eckhardt to follow him and together they descended the -narrow winding stairs. - -"I will return late--have everything prepared," the harper at parting -turned to the warden, who had preceded them with his lantern. The -latter nodded gloomily, then he retraced his steps within, locking the -door behind him. - -Under the nocturnal starlit sky, Eckhardt breathed more freely. For a -time they proceeded in silence, which the Margrave was loth to break. -He had long recognized in the harper the mysterious messenger who in -that never-to-be-forgotten night had conducted him to the groves of -Theodora, and who he instinctively felt had been instrumental in saving -his life. Something told him that the harper possessed the key to the -terrible mystery he had in vain endeavoured to fathom, yet his thoughts -reverted ever and ever to the scene in the tower and to the dead girl -Angiola, and he dreaded to break into the harper's grief. - -They had arrived at the place of the Capitol. It was deserted. Not a -human being was to be seen among the ruins, which the seven-hilled city -still cloaked with her ancient mantle of glory. Dark and foreboding the -colossal monument of the Egyptian lion rose out of the nocturnal gloom. -The air was clear but chill, the starlight investing the gray and -towering form of basalt with a more ghostly whiteness. At the sight of -the dread memory from the mystic banks of the Nile, Eckhardt could not -suppress a shudder; a strange oppression laid its benumbing hand upon -him. - -Involuntarily he paused, plunged in gloomy and foreboding thoughts, when -the touch of the harper's hand upon his shoulder caused him to start -from his sombre reverie. - -Drawing the Margrave into the shadow of the pedestal, which supported -the grim relic of antiquity, Hezilo at last broke the silence. He spoke -slowly and with strained accents. - -"The scene you were permitted to witness this night has no doubt -convinced you that I have a mission to perform in Rome. Our goal is the -same, though we approach it from divergent points. They say man's fate -is pre-ordained, irrevocable, unchangeable--from the moment of his -birth. A gloomy fantasy, yet not a baseless dream. By a strange -succession of events the thread of our destiny has been interwoven, and -the knowledge which you would acquire at any cost, it is in my power to -bestow." - -"Of this I felt convinced, since some strange chance brought us face to -face," Eckhardt replied gloomily. - -"'Twas something more than chance," replied the harper. "You too felt -the compelling hand of Fate." - -"What of the awful likeness?" Eckhardt burst forth, hardly able to -restrain himself at the maddening thought, and feeling instinctively -that he should at last penetrate the web of lies, though ever so finely -spun. - -The harper laid a warning finger on his lips. - -"You deemed her but Ginevra's counterfeit?" - -"Ginevra! Ginevra!" Eckhardt, disregarding the harper's caution, -exclaimed in his mastering agony. "What know you of her? Speak! Tell -me all! What of her?" - -"Silence!" enjoined his companion. "How know we what these ruins -conceal? I guided you to the Groves at the woman's behest. What -interest could she have in your destruction?" - -Eckhardt was supporting himself against the pedestal of the Egyptian -lion, listening as one dazed to the harper's words. Then he broke into a -jarring laugh. - -"Which of us is mad?" he cried. "Wherein did I offend the woman? She -plied but the arts of her trade." - -"You are speaking of Ginevra," replied the harper. - -"Ginevra," growled Eckhardt, his hair bristling and his eyes flaming as -those of an infuriated tiger while his fingers gripped the hilt of his -dagger. - -"You are speaking of Ginevra!" the harper repeated inexorably. - -With a moan Eckhardt's hands went to his head. His breast heaved; his -breath came and went in quick gasps. - -"I do not understand,--I do not understand." - -"You made no attempt to revisit the Groves," said the harper. - -Eckhardt stroked his brow as if vainly endeavouring to recall the past. - -"I feared to succumb to her spell." - -"To that end you had been summoned." - -"I have since been warned. Yet it seemed too monstrous to be true." - -"Warned? By whom?" - -"Cyprianus, the monk!" - -The harper's face turned livid. - -"No blacker wretch e'er strode the streets of Rome. And he confessed?" - -"A death-bed confession, that makes the devils laugh," Eckhardt replied, -then he briefly related the circumstances which had led him into the -deserted region of the Tarpeian Rock and his chance discovery of the -monk, whose strange tale had been cut short by death. - -"He has walked long in death's shadow," said the harper. "Fate was too -kind, too merciful to the slayer of Gregory." - -There was a brief pause, during which neither spoke. At last the harper -broke the silence. - -"The hour of final reckoning is near,--nearer than you dream, the hour -when a fiend, a traitor must pay the penalty of his crimes, the hour -which shall for ever more remove the shadow from your life. The task -required of you is great; you may not approach it as long as a breath of -doubt remains in your heart. Only certainty can shape your unrelenting -course. Had Ginevra a birth-mark?" - -Eckhardt breathed hard. - -"The imprint of a raven-claw on her left arm below the shoulder." - -Hezilo nodded. A strange look had passed into his eyes. - -"There is a means--to obtain the proof." - -"I am ready!" replied Eckhardt with quivering lips. - -"If you will swear on the hilt of this cross, to be guarded by my -counsel, to let nothing induce you to reveal your identity, I will help -you," said the harper. - -Eckhardt touched the proffered cross, nodding wearily. His heart was -heavy to breaking, as the harper slowly outlined his plan. - -"The woman has been seized by a mortal dread of her betrayer,--the man -who wrecked her life and yours. No questions now,--this is neither the -hour or the place! In time you shall know, in time you shall be free to -act! Acting upon my counsel, she has bid me summon to her presence a -sooth-sayer, one Dom Sabbat, who dwells in the gorge between Mounts -Testaccio and Aventine. To him I am to carry these horoscopes and -conduct him to the Groves on the third night before the full of the -moon." - -The harper's voice sank to a whisper, while Eckhardt listened -attentively, nodding repeatedly in gloomy silence. - -"On that night I shall await you in the shadows of the temple of Isis. -There a boat will lie in waiting to convey us to the water stairs of her -palace." - -The harper extended his hand, wrapping himself closer in his mantel. - -"The third night before the full of the moon!" he said. "Leave me now, I -implore you, that I may care for my dead. Remember the time, the place, -and your pledge!" - -Eckhardt grasped the proffered hand and they parted. - -The harper strode away in the direction of the gorge below Mount -Aventine, while Eckhardt, oppressed by strange forebodings, shaped his -course towards his own habitation on the Caelian Mount. - -Neither had seen two figures in black robes, that lingered in the -shadows of the Lion of Basalt. - -No sooner had Eckhardt and Hezilo departed, than they slowly emerged, -standing revealed in the star-light as Benilo and John of the Catacombs. -For a moment they faced each other with meaning gestures, then they too -strode off in the opposite directions, Benilo following the harper on -his singular errand, while the bravo fastened himself to the heels of -the Margrave, whom he accompanied like his own shadow, only -relinquishing his pursuit when Eckhardt entered the gloomy portals of -his palace. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER* - - -While these events transpired in Rome, a feverish activity prevailed in -Castel San Angelo. In day time the huge mausoleum presented the same -sullen and forbidding aspect as ever but without revealing a trace of -the preparations, which were being pushed to a close within. Under -cover of night the breaches had been repaired; huge balistae and -catapults had been placed in position on the ramparts, and the fortress -had been rendered almost impregnable to assault, as in the time of -Vitiges, the Goth. - -Events were swiftly approaching the fatal crisis. While Otto languished -in the toils of Stephania, whose society became more and more -indispensable to him, while with pernicious flattery Benilo closed the -ear of the king to the cries of his German subjects and estranged him -more and more from his leaders, his country, and his hosts, while -Eckhardt vainly strove to arouse Otto to the perils lurking in his utter -abandonment to Roman councillors and Roman polity, the Senator of Rome -had introduced into Hadrian's tomb a sufficiently strong body of men, -not only to withstand a siege, but to vanquish any force, however -superior to his own, to frustrate any assault, however ably directed. -While the German contingents remained on Roman soil he dared not engage -his enemy in a last death-grapple for the supremacy over the Seven -Hills, which Otto's war-worn veterans from the banks of the Elbe and -Vistula had twice wrested from him. The final draw in the great game -was at hand. On this day the envoys of the Electors would arrive in -Rome to demand Otto's immediate return to his German crown-lands, whose -eastern borders were sorely menaced by the ever recurring inroads of -Poles and Magyars. In the event of Otto's refusing compliance with the -Electoral mandate, Count Ludeger of the Palatinate was to relieve -Eckhardt of his command and to lead the German contingents back across -the Alps. - -But it was no part of the Senator's policy to permit Otto to return. -For while there remained breath in the youth, Rome remained the Fata -Morgana of his dreams, and Crescentius remained the vassal of -Theophano's son. He could never hope to come into his own as long as -the life of that boy-king overshadowed his own. Therefore every -pressure must be brought to bear upon the headstrong youth, to defy the -Electoral mandate, to rebuff, to offend the Electoral envoys. Then, the -great German host recalled, Eckhardt relieved of his command, Otto -isolated In a hostile camp, Stephania should cry the watchword for his -doom. The inconsiderable guard remaining would be easily vanquished and -the son of Theophano, utterly abandoned and deserted, should fall an -easy prey to the Senator's schemes, a welcome hostage in the dungeons of -Castel San Angelo, for him to deal with according to the dictates of the -hour. The task to urge Otto to this fatal step had been assigned to -Benilo, but Crescentius was prepared for all emergencies arising from -any unforeseen turn of affairs. He had gone too far to recede. If now -he quailed before the impending issue, the mighty avalanche he had -started would hurl him to swift and certain doom. - -Since that fateful hour, when in a moment of unaccountable weakness -Crescentius had listened to Benilo's serpent-wisdom, and had arrayed his -own wife against the German King, the Senator of Rome had seen but -little of Stephania. The preparations for the impending revolt of the -Romans, in whose fickle minds his emissaries found a fertile soil for -the seed of treason and discontent, engaged him night and day. He -seemed present at once on the ramparts, in the galleries and in the -vaults of his formidable keep. But when chance for a fleeting moment -brought the Senator face to face with his consort, the meaning-fraught -smile on the lips of Stephania seemed to assure him that everything was -going well. Otto was lost to the world. Heaven and earth seemed alike -blotted out for him in her presence. Together they continued to stroll -among the ruins, while Stephania poured strange tales into the youth's -ear, tales which crept to his brain, like the songs of the Sirens that -lure the mariner among the crimson flowers of their abode. And Eckhardt -despised the Romans too heartily to fear them, and even therein he -revealed the heel of Achilles. - -If the present day was gained, the Senator's diplomacy would carry -victory from the field, and Benilo had well plied his subtle arts. Yet -Crescentius was resolved to attend in person the audience of the envoys. -He would with his own ears hear the King's reply to the Electors. If -Benilo had played him false? He hardly knew why a lingering suspicion -of the Chamberlain crept into his mind at all. But he shook himself -free of the thought, which had for a moment clouded the future with its -sombre shadow. - -As the Senator of Rome hurriedly traversed the galleries of the vast -mausoleum, he suddenly found himself face to face with Stephania. - -Her face was pale and her eyes revealed traces of tears. - -At the first words she uttered, Crescentius paused, surprise and -gladness in his eyes. - -"We are well met, my lord," she said, after a brief greeting, an -unwonted tremor vibrating in her tones. "I have sought you in vain all -the morning. Release me from the task you have imposed upon me! I -cannot go on! I am not further equal to it. It is a game unworthy of -you or me!" - -The surprise at her words for a moment choked the Senator's utterance -and almost struck him dumb. - -"Imposed upon?" he replied. "I thought you had accepted the mission -freely. Is the boy rebellious?" - -"On the contrary! Were he so, perhaps I should not now prefer this -request. He is but too pliant." - -"He has made your task an easy one," Crescentius nodded meaningly. - -"He has laid his whole soul bare to me; not a thought therein, ever so -remote, which I have not sounded. I can not stand before him. My brow -is crimsoned with the flush of shame. He gave me truth for a -lie,--friendship for deceit. He deserves a better fate than the Senator -of Rome has decreed for him." - -Crescentius breathed hard. - -"The weakness does you honour," he replied after a pause. "Perchance I -should have spared you the task. I placed him in your hands, because I -dared trust no one else. And now it is too late--too late!" - -"It is not too late," replied Stephania. - -Crescentius pointed silently to the ramparts, where a score of men were -placing a huge catapult in position. - -"It is not too late!" she repeated, her cheeks alternately flushing and -paling. "To-day, my lord informed me, the King stands at the Rubicon. -To-day he must choose, If it is to be Rome, if Aix-la-Chapelle. If he -elects to return to the gray gloom of his northern skies, to the sombre -twilight of his northern forests, let him go, my lord,--let him go! -Much misery will be thereby averted,--much heart-rending despair!" - -Crescentius had listened in silence to Stephania's pleading. There was a -brief pause, during which only his heavy breathing was heard. - -"His choice is made," he replied at last in a firm tone. - -"I do not understand you, my lord!" - -The Senator regarded his wife with singularly fixed intentness. - -"The toils of the Siren Rome are too firm to be snapped asunder like a -spider's web." - -She covered her face with her hands. Her breath came and went with -quick, convulsive gasps. - -"It is shameful--shameful--" she sobbed. "Had I never lent myself to -the unworthy task! How could you conceive it, my lord, how could you? -But it was not your counsel! May his right hand wither, who whispered -the thought into your ear!" - -Crescentius winced. He felt ill at ease. - -"Is it so hard to play the confessor to yonder wingless cherub?" he said -with a forced smile. - -Stephania straightened herself to her full height. - -"When I undertook the shameless task, I believed the son of Theophano a -tyrant, an oppressor, his hands stained with the best of Roman blood! -Such your lying Roman chroniclers had painted him. I gloried in the -thought, to humble a barbarian, whose vain-glorious, boastful insolence -meditated new outrages upon us Romans. Yet his is a purer, a loftier -spirit, than is to be found in all this Rome of yours! Were it not -nobler to acknowledge him your liege, than to destroy him by woman's -wiles and smiles?" - -"I cannot answer you on these points," Crescentius spoke after a pause, -during which the olive tints of his countenance had faded to ashen hues. -"I regard those dreams, whose mock-halo has blinded you, in a different -light. It is the wise man who rules the state,--it is the dreamer who -dashes it to atoms. We have gone too far! I could not release -you,--even if I would!" - -Stephania breathed hard. Her hands were tightly clasped. - -"It can bring glory to neither you, nor Rome," she said in a pleading -voice. "Let him depart in peace, my lord, and I will thank you to my -dying hour!" - -"How know you he wishes to depart?" - -"How know you he wishes to remain?" - -"His destiny is Rome. Here he will live--and here he will die!" the -Senator spoke with slow emphasis. "But we have not yet agreed upon the -signal," he continued with cold and merciless voice. "After the -departure of the envoys you will lead the King into his favourite -haunts, the labyrinth of the Minotaurus, to the little temple of -Neptune. There I will in person await him. When you see the gleam of -spearpoints in the thickets, you will wave your kerchief with the cry: -'For Rome and Crescentius.' No harm shall befall the youth,--unless he -resist. He shall have honourable conduct to the guest chamber, prepared -for him,--below." - -And Crescentius pointed downward with the thumb of his right hand. - -Stephania's bosom rose and fell in quick respiration. - -"I am not accustomed to prefer a request and be denied," she said -proudly, her face the pallor of death. "Is this your last word, my -lord?" - -Crescentius met her gaze unflinchingly. - -"It is my last," he replied. "Yet one choice remains with you: You may -betray the King,--or the Senator of Rome!" - -He turned to go, but something whispered to him to stay. At that moment -he despised himself for having imposed upon his wife a task, against -which Stephania's loftier nature had rebelled and he inwardly cursed the -hour which had ripened the seed and him, who had sown it. Gazing after -Stephania's retreating form, all the love he bore her surged up into his -heart as he cried her name. - -Arrested by his voice, Stephania turned and paused for a moment swift as -thought, but in that moment she seemed to read the very depths of his -soul and the utter futility of further entreaty. Without a word she -ascended the spiral stairway leading to the upper galleries and -re-entered her own apartments, while with long and wistful gaze -Crescentius followed the vanishing form of his wife. - - -And it seemed as if the Senator's prophecy was to be fulfilled. At the -reading of the Electoral manifesto, Otto had been seized with an -uncontrollable fit of rage. He had torn the document to shreds and cast -its fragments at the feet of the Bavarian duke, who acted as spokesman -for his colleagues, the dukes of Thuringia, Saxony and Westphalia. -Neither the arguments of the Electoral envoys, nor the violent -denunciations of Eckhardt, who aired his hatred of Rome in language -never before heard in the presence of a sovereign, could stand before -Benilo's eloquent pleading. On his knees the Chamberlain implored the -King not to abandon Rome and his beloved Romans. Vainly the German -dukes pointed to the dangers besetting the realm, vainly to the -inadequate defences of the Eastern March. With a majesty far above his -years, Otto declared his supreme will to make Rome the capital of the -earth, and to restore the pristine majesty of the Holy Roman Empire. -Rome was his destiny. Here he would live, and here he would die. Rome -was pacified. He required no longer the presence of the army. Let -Bavaria and Saxony defend their own boundaries as best they might; let -the Count Palatine lead his veteran hosts across the Alps. He would -remain. This his reply to the Electors. - -On the eve of that eventful day the German dukes departed, while the -Count Palatine proceeded to Tivoli, to prepare the great armament for -their winter march across the Alps. It had come to pass as Crescentius -had predicted. The die was cast. Rome, the Siren, had conquered. - -In the night following these events, Rome in her various quarters -presented a strange aspect of secret activity. - -In the fortresses of the Cavalli and Caetani lights flitted to and fro -through the gratings in the main court. Benilo, the Chamberlain, might -be seen stealing from the postern gate. Towards the ruins of the -Coliseum men whose dress bespoke them of the lowest rank, were seen -creeping from lanes and alleys. From these ruins at a later hour, -glided again the form of the Grand Chamberlain. Later yet,--when a gray -light is breaking in the east, the gates of Rome, by St. John Lateran, -are open. Benilo is conversing with the Roman guard. The mountains are -dim with a mournful and chilling haze when Benilo enters the palace on -the Aventine. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *THE TEMPLE OF NEPTUNE* - - -Shaken to the inmost depths of his soul by a storm of forebodings, hope, -fear and passion, Otto had shaken himself free from the throng of -flattering friends and courtiers and had sought the solitude of his own -chamber. He had dismissed the envoys of the Electors with the -unalterable reply that he would not return to his gloomy Saxon-land. -Let the Saxon dukes defend the borders of the realm, let them keep Poles -and Slavs in check. His own destiny was Rome. Here he would live, and -here he would die. Deeply offended, the German envoys had departed. -The consequences might be far-reaching indeed. Tearing off his -accoutrements and all insignia of office and rank, Otto flung himself on -his couch in solitary seclusion. All had been against him,--save Benilo. -Benilo alone understood him. Benilo alone encouraged the young king to -follow out his destiny. Benilo alone had pointed out that the earth -might be governed from the ancient seat of empire without detriment to -any of the nations of the Holy Roman Empire. Benilo alone had -demonstrated the necessity of Otto's presence in his chosen capital, -whose heterogeneous elements would obey no lesser authority. - -Weary and torn by conflicting emotions he at last sank down before the -image of Mary and prayed to the Mother of God to guide his steps in the -dark wilderness in which he found himself entangled. Thus transported -out of himself far beyond the vociferous pageant of that exhausting day, -Otto gave himself with all the mystical fervour of his Hellenic nature -to visions of the future. - -Thus the evening approached. Long before the hour appointed he slowly -bent his steps towards the little temple of Neptune, crowning the -olive-clad summits of Mount Aventine and overlooking the vale of Egeria -and the meandering course of the Tiber. The clouds above, beautiful -with changing sunset tints, mottled the broken surface of the river with -hues of bronze and purple between the leaves of the creeping -water-plants, which clogged the movement of the stream. On the -river-bank the rushes were starred with iris and ranunculus. - -The sun was declining in the horizon. A solemn stillness, like the -presage of some divine event, held the pulses of the universe. A soft -rose crept into the shimmer of the water, cresting the summits of far -off Soracté. The transient, many-tinted glories of the autumn sunset -were reflected in opalescent lights on the waves of the Tiber, and swept -the landscape in one dazzling glow of gold and amber, strangely blending -with the gold and russet of the autumn foliage. The floating smell of -flowers invisible hovered on the air; a mystic yearning seemed to -pervade all nature in that chill, melancholy odour, that puts men in -mind of death. The soft masses of leaves decayed caused a brushing -sound under the feet of the lonely rambler. - -Round him in the silent woods burnt the magnificent obsequies of -departing summer. - -Fire-flies moved through the embalmed air, like the torches of unseen -angels. The late roses exhaled their mystic odour, and silently like -dead butterflies, here and there a wan leaf dropped from the branches. - -At every step the wood became more lonely. It was as untroubled by any -sound as an abandoned cemetery. Birds there were few, the shade of the -laurel-grove being too dense and no song of theirs was heard. A -grasshopper began his shrill cry, but quickly ceased, as if startled by -its own voice. Insects alone were humming faintly in a last slender ray -of sunlight, but ventured not to quit its beam for the neighbouring -gloom. Sometimes Otto trended his path along wider alleys bordered by -titanic walls of weird cypress, casting dark shade as a moonless night. -Here and there subterranean waters made the moss spongy. Streams ran -everywhere, chill as melted snow, but silently, with no tinkling -ripples, as if muted by the melancholy of the enchanted wood. Moss -stifled the sound of the falling drops and they sank away like the tears -of an unspoken love. - -For a moment; Otto lingered among a tangle of elder-bushes. The oblique -sun rays filtering through the dense laurel became almost lunar, as if -seen through the smoke of a funeral torch. - -Along the edge of the road goats were contentedly browsing and a rugged -sun-burnt little lad with large black eyes was driving a flock of geese. -Storm clouds lined with gold were rising in the North over the unseen -Alps, and high up in the clear sky there burned a single star. - -Deep in thought, Otto passed the walls of the cloisters of St. Cosmas. - -Onward he walked as in the memory of a dream. - -Through the purple silence came faintly the chant of the monks: - - "Fac me plagis vulnerari - Pac me cruce inebriari - Ob amorem Filii." - - -At last the Ionic marble columns, softly steeped in the warmth of -departing day, came into sight. Silence and coolness encompassed him. -The setting sun still cast his glimmer on the capitals of the columns -whose fine, illumined scroll work, contrasted with the penumbral shadows -of the interior, seemed soft and bright as tresses of gold. - -A hand softly touched Otto's shoulder. A voice whispered: - -"If you would know all--come! Come and I will tell you the secret which -never yet I have uttered to mortal man." - -In the departing light, veiled by the thick cypresses and pale as the -moon-beams, just as in the Egerian wilderness in the whiteness of -summer-lightnings, she put her face close to his, her face white as -marble, with its scarlet lips, its witch-like eyes. - -On they walked in silence, hand in hand. - -On they walked along the verge of a precipice, where none have walked -before, resisting the vertigo and the fatal attraction of the abyss. If -they should prove unequal to the strain,--overstep the magic circle? - -Stephania was pale and trembled. She smiled,--but the smile troubled -him, he scarce knew why. He tried to think it was the melancholy, -caused by the wild and stormy look of the sunset and the loud cawing of -the hereditary rooks, which seemed to croak an everlasting farewell to -life and hope in the oaks of the convent. - -Must he repulse the love that surged up to him in resistless waves? - -Must he renounce the near for the far-away, the ideal, whose embodiment -she was, for the commonplace? - -Slowly the sun sank to rest in a sea of crimson and gold, a fiery -funeral of foliage and flowers. - -A clock boomed from a neighbouring tower. The heavy measured clang -vibrated long through the stillness, quivering In the air, like a -warning knell of fate. - -Softly she drew him into the dusk of the pagan temple, drew him down -beside her on one of the scattered fragments of antiquity, a dog-eared -God of black Syenite from Egypt, which had shared the fate of its Latin -equals. - -But he could not sit beside--her. - -Abruptly he rose; standing before her, the passion of the long fight -surged up in him. Stephania sat motionless, and for a time neither -spoke. - -At last Otto broke the silence. His voice was strained as if he were -suffering some great pain. - -"I have come!" he said. "I have cut every bridge between present and -past! I am here.--Have you thought of my appeal?" - -"Oh, why do you torture me?" she replied half sobbing, "I venture to ask -for a delay, and you arraign me as though I stood at the bar of -judgment." - -"It is our day of judgment," he replied. "It is the day when life -confronts us with our own deeds,--when we must answer for them, when we -must justify them. For if we are but triflers, we cannot stand in the -face either of heaven or of hell!" - -He bent down and took her hands in his. - -"Stephania," he said, "I too have doubted, I too have wavered:--give me -but one word of assurance,--my love for you is a wound which no eternity -can cure." - -She broke from him, to hide her weeping. - -"Have you thought of the forfeit?" she faltered after a time. - -"I would not forego the doom!--You alone are my light in this dark -country of the world. Do not stifle the voice in your heart with -reasons--" - -"Reasons! Reasons!" she interrupted. "What does the heart know of -reasons! Mine has long forgotten their pleadings--else, were I here?" - -Something in her voice and gesture was like a lightning flash over a -dark landscape. In an instant he saw the pit at his feet. - -"What then," he faltered, "is this to lead to?" - -"Some one has been with you," she said quickly. "These words were not -yours." - -He rallied with a fault smile. - -"A pretext for not heeding them." - -"Eckhardt has been with you! He has maligned me to you!" - -"He has warned me against you!" - -She turned very pale. - -"And you heeded?" - -"I am here, Stephania!" - -The subtle perfume clinging to her gown mounted to his brain, choking -back reason and resistance. - -"Yet again I ask you, what is this to lead to? I am afraid of the -future as a child of the dark!" - -She held his hands tightly clasped. - -"Oh!" she sobbed, "why will you torture me? I have borne much for our -love's sake--but to answer you now is to relive it and I lack the -strength." - -He held her hands fast, his eyes in hers. - -"No, Stephania," he said, "your strength never failed you when there was -call on it, and our whole past calls on it now! Eckhardt tells me that -the Romans hate me,--that they resent the love I bear them--oh, if it -were true!" - -Stephania gazed at him with wide astonished eyes. - -"Ah! It is this then," she said with a sigh of relief. "A moment's -thought must show you what passions are here at work. You must rise -above such fears. As for us,--no one can judge between us, but -ourselves. Shake off these dread fancies! There lies but one goal -before us. You pointed the way to it once. Surely you would not hold -me back from it now?" - -Gently she drew him down by her side. Through the crevices in the roof -glimmered the evening star. - -She saw the conflict, which raged within him, the instinct to break away -from her, who could never more be his own. She saw the fear which bound -him to her,--she saw the great love he bore her, and she knew that he -was hers soul and body, her instrument, her toy,--her lover if she so -willed. - -He spoke to her of his childhood in the bleak northern forests; of the -black pines of Thuringia, of the snow-drifts, which froze his heart; of -the sad sea horizons brooding infinitely away; of the gloomy abbey of -Merséburg, in the Saxon-land, where the great Emperor Otto, his -grandsire, was sleeping towards the day of resurrection, where under the -abbot's guidance he had first been initiated into the magic of a sunnier -clime. He spoke to her of his Greek mother, the Empress Theophano, -whose great beauty was only rivalled by her own, and of that eventful -night, when he descended into the crypts of Aix-la-Chapelle and opened -the tomb of Charlemagne, then dead almost two hundred years. He told -her how he had fought against this mad, unreasoning love, which had at -first sight of her crept into his heart, urging naught in palliation of -his offence, but like a flagellant laying bare his tortured flesh to a -self-inflicted scourge. He begged her to decide for him, to guide him, -lonely antagonist of destiny--dared he ask for more? She was the wife -of the Senator of Rome. - -As he ceased speaking, Otto covered his face with his hands, but -Stephania drew them down and held them firmly in her own. Truly, if it -was victory to accomplish the end, by drawing out a loving, confiding -heart, the victory was with the vanquished. And with the memory of the -compact she had sealed a wondrous pity flashed through the woman's soul, -a mighty longing, to lift the son of the Greek Princess up into joyous -peace! No thought of evil marred her pure desire,--alas! She knew not -at that moment, that even in that pity lay his direst snare, and hers. - -The decisive moment was at hand. In the thickets before the temple her -eye discerned the gleam of spear-points. For a moment a violent tremor -passed through her body. She had hardly strength sufficient to maintain -her presence of mind, and her face was pale as that of a corpse. - -Would she, a second Delilah, deliver Otto to her countrymen--the Romans? - -It was some time ere she felt sufficiently composed to speak. Her throat -was dry and she seemed to choke. - -Otto remarked her discomfiture, far from guessing its cause. - -"I will fetch you some water," he said, starting up to leave the temple. - -Quick as lightning she had arisen, holding him back. - -"It is nothing," she whispered nervously. "Do not leave me!" - -And he obeyed. - -Stephania closed her eyes as if to exclude the sight of the -spear-points. - -"Otto," she said softly, after a pause, for the first time calling him -by his name, "I fear there is one great lesson you have never learned." - -"And what is this lesson?" - -"That, what you are doing for the Romans might also be done for you! Is -there no heart to share your sorrow, to help you bear the pain of -disappointment, which must come to you sooner or later? You told me, -you had never loved before we met--" - -He nodded assent. - -"Never--Never!" - -"Ah! Then you do not know. You seek for light, where the sun can never -shine! Striving for the highest ideals of mankind we can rise from the -black depths of doubt but by one ladder,--that of a woman's love!" - -Again the dreadful doubt assailed him. - -"If you mean--that,--oh, do not speak of it, Stephania! The wound is -already past healing." - -She bent towards him and rested her head upon his shoulders. - -"And yet I must,--here--and to you." - -"No--no--no!" he muttered helplessly and turned away. The words of -Eckhardt rushed and roared through his memory: "Once you are hers,--no -human power can save you from the abyss." - -But Eckhardt hated the Romans as one hates a scorpion, a basilisk. - -Stephania relinquished not her victim. He must be hers, body and soul, -ere she shrieked the fatal word.--The warm blood hurtling through her -veins quenched the last pitying spark. - -"Ah!" she said with a sigh. "You have never known the tenderness of a -woman's smile,--the touch of a woman's hand,--her soft caress,--the -sound of her voice,--that haunts you everywhere,--waking,--in your -dreams--" - -"Stephania!" he gasped, and rose as if to flee from her, but she held -him back. - -"You have never known the ear that listens for your footsteps,--the lips -that meet your own in a long, passionate kiss,--the kiss that -thrills--and burns--and maddens--" - -"Stephania--in mercy--cease!" - -Again he attempted to rise, again she drew him down. - -"You are not like other men--Otto! Will you always live so lonely,--so -companionless,--with no one to love you with that lasting love, for -which your whole soul cries out?" - -Shivering he raised his arms as if to shut the sight of her from his -dazzled gaze. Again, though fainter, Eckhardt's terrible warning -knocked at the gates of his memory. But her purring voice with its low -melodious roll, wooed his listening heart till the doors of reason -tottered on their hinges. And the end--what would be the end? - -"Tell me no more," he gasped, "tell me no more! I cannot listen! I -dare not listen! You will destroy me! You will destroy us both!" - -Her lips parted in a smile,--that fateful smile, which caused his soul -to quake. Her fine nostrils quivered, as she bent towards him. - -"You cannot?" she said. "You dare not? Will you pass the cup untasted, -the cup that brims with the crimson joy of love? Is there none in all -the world to take you by the hand,--to lead you home?" - -With a cry half inarticulate he sprang toward her,--his fierce words -tumbling from delirious lips: - -"Yes,--there is one,--there is one,--one who could lift me up till my -soul should sing in heavenly bliss,--one who could bring to me -forgetfulness and peace,--one who could change my state of exalted -loneliness to a delirium of ecstasy,--one who could lead me, wherever -she would--could I but lay my head on her breast,--touch her lips,--call -her mine--" - -Stephania stretched out her white, bare arms that made him dizzy. He -stood before her quivering with hands pressed tightly against his -throbbing temples. One moment only.--Half risen from her seat, her eye -on the gleaming spear-points in the thicket, she seemed to crouch -towards him like some beautiful animal, then a half choked out cry broke -from his lips, as their eyes looked hungrily into each others, and they -were clasped in a tight embrace. Stephania's arms encircled Otto's neck -and she pressed her lips on his in a long, fervid kiss, which thrilled -the youth to the marrow of his bone. - -At that moment a curtain of matted vines, which divided the vestibule of -the little temple from its inner chambers was half pushed aside by a -massive arm, wrapped with scales of linked mail. Standing behind them, -Crescentius witnessed the embrace and withdrew without a word. - -Was Stephania not overacting her part? - -He waited for the signal. - -No signal came. - -Then a terrible revelation burst upon the Senator's mind. - -Johannes Crescentius had lost the love of his wife. - -After a time the spear-points disappeared. - -The Senator of Rome saw his own danger and the forces arrayed against -him. He was no longer dealing with statecraft. The weapon had been -turned. With a smothered outcry of anguish he slowly retraced his -steps. - -Neither had seen the silent witness of their embrace. - -Silence had ensued in the temple. - -Each could feel the tremor in the soul of the other. - -After a time Otto stumbled blindly into the open. Stephania remained -alone in rigid silence. - -In frozen horror she stared into the dusk. - -"The game is finished,--I have won,--oh, God forgive me--God forgive -me!" she moaned. "Otto ... Otto ... Otto ..." - - * * * * * - -"If you would know all,--come at midnight to the churchyard near Ponte -Sisto," whispered a voice close by his side, as Crescentius staggered -towards the Aelian bridge. - -He felt a hand upon his shoulder, turned, and saw, like some ill-omened -ghost in the wintry twilight, a lean pale face staring into his own. - -In the darkness, under the dense shadows of the cypress-trees he could -not distinguish the features of his companion, who wore the habit of a -monk. - -But when Crescentius turned to reply, he was alone. - -"Christ too prayed a human prayer for a miracle: Father, let this cup -pass from me!" he muttered, continuing upon his way. - -With eyes on the ground he strode along the narrow walk, skirting the -Tiber, in whose turbid waves no stars were reflected. And scarce -consciously he repeated to himself: - -"As like as a man and his own phantom,--his own phantom." - -He passed the bridge and entered the mausoleum of the Flavian emperor. -Rapidly he ascended to his own chamber. - -The candle was burning low. - -Up and down he paced in the endeavour to order his thoughts. But no -order would come into the chaotic confusion of his mind. - -What was the dominion of Rome to him now? - -What the dominion of the Universe? - -What devil in human shape had counselled the act in the seeds of which -slumbered his own destruction? - -The flame of the dying candle flickered and grew dim. - -Had Stephania returned? - -He heard no steps, no sound in her chamber. - -At the memory of what he had seen, a groan broke from his lips. - -How he hated that boy, who after wresting from him the dominion of the -city, had stolen from him the love of his wife! - -Stolen? Had it not been thrust upon him? What mortal could have -resisted the temptation? He would die--thus it was written in the -stars;--but Stephania would weep for him-- - -On tip-toe the Senator stole to the chamber of his wife. The door stood -ajar. The chamber was empty. - -The candle flared up for the last time, lighting up the gloom. Then it -sank down and went out. - -Crescentius was alone in the darkness. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *THE INCANTATION* - - -It was near the hour of midnight when a figure, muffled and concealed in -an ample mantle left Castel San Angelo. The guards on duty did not -challenge it and after crossing the Aelian bridge, it traversed the -deserted thoroughfares until it reached the Flaminian way, which it -entered. Avoiding the foot-path near the river, the figure moved -stealthily along the farther side of the road, which, as far as could be -discerned by the glimpses of the moon which occasionally shone forth -from a bank of heavy clouds, was deserted. A few sounds arose from the -banks of the river and there was now and then a splash in the water or a -distant cry betokening some passing craft. Otherwise profound silence -reigned. The low structures and wharfs on the opposite bank could be -but imperfectly discerned, but the moonlight fell clear upon the -mausoleum of Augustus and the adjacent church of St. Eufemia. The same -glimmer also ran like a silver-belt across the stream and revealed the -gloomy walls of the Septizonium. The world of habitations beyond this -melancholy stronghold was buried in darkness. - -After crossing Ponte Sisto the muffled rambler entered a churchyard, -which seemed to have been abandoned for ages. The moon was now shining -brightly and silvered the massive square watchtowers, the battlements, -and pinnacles with gorgeous tracery. Crescentius had hardly set foot on -the moss-grown path, when two individuals wrapped in dark, flowing -mantles, whose manner was as mysterious as their appearance, glided -stealthily past him. - -They seemed not to have noticed his presence but pursued their way -through the churchyard, creeping beneath the shadow of a wall in the -direction of some low structure, which appeared to be a charnel-house -situated at its north-western extremity. Before this building grew a -black and stunted yew-tree. Arrived at it, they paused to see whether -they were observed. They did not notice the unbidden visitor, who had -concealed himself behind a buttress. One of the two individuals who -seemed bent by great age then unlocked the door of the charnel-house and -brought out a pick-axe and a spade. Then both men proceeded some little -distance from the building and began to shovel out the mould from a -grass-grown grave. - -Determined to watch their proceeding, Crescentius crept towards the -yew-tree, behind which he ensconced himself. The bent and decrepit one -of the two meanwhile continued to ply his spade with a vigour that -seemed incomprehensible in one so far stricken in years and of such -infirm appearance. At length he paused, and kneeling within the shallow -grave endeavoured to drag something from it. His assistant, apparently -younger and possessed of greater vigour, knelt to lend his aid. After -some exertion they drew forth the corpse of a woman which had been -interred without a coffin and apparently in the habiliments worn during -life. Then the two men raised the corpse, and conveyed it to the -charnel-house. After having done so, one of them returned to the grave -for the lantern and, upon returning, entered the building and closed and -fastened the door behind him. - -Crescentius had chosen the moment when one of the two individuals left -the lone house, to enter unobserved and to conceal himself in the -shadows. What he had witnessed, had exercised a terrible fascination -over him, and he was determined to see to an end the devilish rites -about to be performed by the personage, in quest of whom he had come. -The chamber in which he found himself was in perfect keeping with the -horrible ceremonial about to be performed. In one corner lay a -mouldering heap of skulls, bones and other fragments of mortality; in -the other a pile of broken coffins, emptied of their tenants and reared -on end. But what chiefly attracted his attention, was a ghastly -collection of human limbs blackened with pitch, girded round with iron -hoops and hung like meat in a shamble against the wall. There were two -heads, and although the features were scarcely distinguishable owing to -the liquid in which they had been immersed, they still retained a -terrible expression of agony. These were the quarters of two priests -recently executed for conspiracy against the Pontiff, which had been -left there pending their final disposition. The implements of execution -were scattered about and mixed with the tools of the sexton, while in -the centre of the room stood a large wooden frame supported by rafters. -On this frame, bespattered with blood and besmeared with pitch, the body -was now placed. This done, the one who seemed to be the moving spirit -of the two, placed the lantern beside it, and as the light fell upon its -livid features, sullied with earth, and exhibiting traces of decay, -Crescentius was so appalled by the sight, that he revealed his presence -by a half suppressed outcry. Seeing the futility of further -concealment, he stepped into the light of the lantern and was about to -speak, when he heard the older address his assistant, neither of whom -evinced the least surprise at his presence, while he pointed toward him: - -"Look! It is the very face! The bronzed and strongly marked -features,--the fierce gray eye--the iron frame of the figure we beheld -in the show-stone! Thus he looked, as we tracked his perilous course." - -"You know me then?" asked the intruder uneasily. - -"You are the Senator of Rome!" - -"You spoke of my perilous course! How have you learned this?" - -"By the art that reveals all things! And in proof that your thoughts -are known to me, I will tell you the inquiry you would make before it is -uttered. You came here to learn whether the enterprise in which you are -engaged will succeed." - -"Such was my intent," replied Crescentius. "From the reports about you, -I will freely admit, I regarded you as an impostor! Now I am convinced -that you are skilled in the occult science and would fain consult you on -the future. What is the meaning of this?" he continued pointing to the -corpse before him. - -"I expected you!" was the conjurer's laconic reply. - -"How is that possible?" exclaimed Crescentius. "It is only within the -hour, that I conceived the thought,--and only the events of this evening -prompted it." - -"I know all!" replied Dom Sabbat. "Yet I would caution you: beware, how -you pry into the future. You may repent of your rashness, when it is -too late." - -"I have no fear! Let me know the worst!" replied Crescentius. - -The conjurer pointed to the corpse. - -"That carcass having been placed in the ground without the holy rites of -burial, I have power over it. As the witch of Endor called up Samuel, -as is recorded in Holy Writ,--as Erichtho raised up a corpse, to reveal -to Sextus Pompejus the event of the Pharsalian war,--as the dead maid -was brought back to life by Appollonius of Thyana,--so I, by certain -powerful incantations will lure the soul of this corpse for a short -space into its former abode, and compel it to answer my questions. Dare -you be present at the ceremony?" - -"I dare!" replied the Senator of Rome. - -"So it be!" replied Dom Sabbat. "You will need all your courage!" and -he extinguished the light. - -An awful silence ensued in the charnel-house, broken only by a low -murmur from the conjurer who appeared to be reciting an incantation. As -he proceeded, his tones became louder and his voice that of command. -Suddenly he paused and seemed to await a response. But as none was -made, greatly to the disappointment of Crescentius, whose curiosity, -despite his fears, was raised to the highest pitch, cried: - -"Blood is wanting to complete the charm!" - -"If that be all, I will speedily supply the deficiency," replied the -Senator, bared his left arm and, drawing his poniard, pricked it -slightly with the point of the weapon. - -"I bleed now!" he cried. - -"Sprinkle the corpse with the blood," commanded Dom Sabbat. - -"The blood is flowing upon it!" replied Crescentius with a shudder. - -Upon this the conjurer began to mutter an incantation in a louder and -more authoritative tone than before. His assistant added his voice, and -both joined in a sort of chorus, but in a jargon entirely unintelligible -to the Senator. - -Suddenly a blue flame appeared above their heads, and slowly descending, -settled upon the brow of the corpse, lighting up the sunken cavities of -the eyes and the discoloured and distorted features. - -"She moves! She moves!" shouted the Senator frantically. "She moves! -She is alive." - -"Be silent!" cried Dom Sabbat, "else mischief may ensue!" - -And again he started his incantation. - -"Down on your knees!" he exclaimed at length with terrible voice. "The -spirit is at hand." - -There was a rushing sound and a stream of white, dazzling light shot -down upon the corpse, which emitted a hollow groan. In obedience to Dom -Sabbat's demand Crescentius had prostrated himself on the ground, but he -kept his gaze steadily fixed on the body, which, to his infinite -amazement, slowly arose until it stood erect upon the frame. There it -remained perfectly motionless, with the arms close to the sides and the -habiliments torn and dishevelled. The blue light still retained its -position upon the brow and communicated a horrible glimmer to the -features. The spectacle was so dreadful, that Crescentius would have -averted his eyes, but he was unable to do so. The conjurer and his -familiar meanwhile continued their invocations, until, as it seemed to -the Senator, the lips of the corpse moved and a voice of despair -exclaimed: "Why have you called me?" - -"To question you about the future!" replied Dom Sabbat rising. - -"Speak and I will answer," replied the corpse. - -"Ask her,--but be brief;--her time is short," said Dom Sabbat, -addressing the Senator. "Only as long as that flame burns, have I power -over her!" - -"What is her name?" questioned the Senator. - -"Marozia!" - -The Senator's hand went to his forehead; he tottered and almost fell. -But he caught himself. - -"Spirit of Marozia," he cried, "if indeed thou standest before me, and -some demon has not entered thy frame to delude me,--by all that is holy, -and by every blessed saint do I adjure thee to tell me, whether the -scheme, on which I am now engaged for the glory of Rome, will prosper?" - -"Thou art mistaken, Johannes Crescentius," returned the corpse. "Thy -scheme is not for the glory of Rome!" - -"I will not pause to argue this point," continued the Senator. "Will the -end be successful?" - -"The end will be death," replied the corpse. - -"To the King--or to myself?" - -"To both!" - -"Ha!" ejaculated Crescentius, breathing hard. "To both!" - -"Proceed if you have more to ask,--the flame is expiring," cried the -conjurer. - -"And--Stephania?" But he could not utter the question. He felt like one -choking. - -But before the question was formed, the light vanished and a heavy sound -was heard, as of the body falling on the frame. - -"It is over!" said Dom Sabbat - -"Can you not summon her again?" asked Crescentius, in a tone of deep -disappointment. "I must know that other." - -"Impossible," replied the conjurer. "The spirit has flown and cannot be -recalled. We must commit the body to the earth!" - -"My curiosity is excited,--not satisfied," said the Senator. "Would it -were to occur again!" - -"Thus it is ever," replied Dom Sabbat. "We seek to know that which is -forbidden, and quench our thirst at a fount, which but inflames our -curiosity the more. You have embarked on a perilous enterprise;--be -warned, Senator of Rome! If you continue to pursue it, it will lead you -to perdition." - -"I cannot retreat," replied Crescentius. "And I would not, if I could. -Death to both of us:--this at least is atonement!" - -"I warn you again,--if you persist, you are lost!" - -"Impossible,--I cannot retreat;--I could not, if I would! By no -sophistry can I clear my conscience of the ties imposed upon it. I have -sworn never to desist from the execution of this scheme, never--never! -And so resolved am I, that if I stood alone in this very hour--I would -go on." - -"You stand alone!" - -No one knew whence the voice had come. The three stood appalled. - -A deep groan issued from the corpse. - -"For the last time,--be warned!" expostulated Dom Sabbat. - -"Come forth!" cried Crescentius rushing towards the door. "This place -stifles me!" And he unbolted the door and threw it wide open, stepping -outside. - -The moon was shining brightly from a deep blue azure. Before him stood -the old church of St. Damian bathed in the moonlight. The Senator gazed -abstractedly at the venerable structure, then he re-entered the -charnel-house, where he found the conjurer and his companion employed in -placing the body of the excommunicated denizen of Castel San Angelo into -a coffin, which they had taken from a pile in the corner. He immediately -proffered his assistance and in a short space the task was completed. -The coffin was then borne toward the grave, at the edge of which it was -laid, while the Dom Sabbat mumbled a strange Requiem over the departed. - -This ended, it was laid into its shallow resting place, and speedily -covered with earth. - -When all was ready for their departure, Dom Sabbat turned to the Senator -of Rome, bidding him farewell. Declining the proffered gold, he -observed: - -"If you are wise, my lord, you will profit by the awful warning you have -this night received." - -"Who are you?" the Senator questioned abruptly, trying to peer through -the cowl which the adept of the black arts had drawn over his face, -"since the devils obey your beck?" - -The conjurer laughed a soundless laugh. - -"Of dominion over devils I am innocent--since I rule no men!" - -At the entrance of the churchyard, Crescentius parted from the conjurer -and his associate, about whose personality he had not troubled himself, -and returned in deep rumination to Castel San Angelo. - -No sooner had the Senator of Rome departed, than the conjurer's familiar -tore the trappings from his person and stood revealed to his companion -as Benilo, the Chamberlain. - -"Dog! Liar! Impostor," he hissed into Dom Sabbat's face, while kicking -and buffeting him. "Marozia has been dead some fifty years. How dare -you perpetrate this monstrous fraud? Was it this I bade you tell the -Senator of Rome?" - -Dom Sabbat cringed before the blows and the flaming madness in the -Chamberlain's eyes. Folding his arms over his chest and bending low he -replied with feigned contrition: - -"It was not for me to compel the spirit's answer! And as for the -corpse, 'twas Marozia's. Thus read you the devil's favour. Until -blessed by the holy rite, the body cannot return to its native dust." - -"Then it was Marozia's spirit we beheld?" Benilo queried with a shudder, -as they left the churchyard. - -"Marozia's spirit," replied Dom Sabbat. "Yet who would raise a fabric -on the memory of a lie?" - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *THE HERMITAGE OF NILUS* - - -Stephania's sleep had been broken and restless. She tossed and turned -in her pillows and pushed back the hair from her fevered cheeks and -throbbing temples in vain. It was weary work, to lie gazing with eyes -wide open at the flickering shadows cast by the night-lamp on the -opposite wall. It was still less productive of sleep to shut them tight -and to abandon herself to the visions thus evoked, which stood out in -life-like colours and refused to be dispelled. - -Do what she would to forget him, to conjure up some other object in her -soul, there stood the son of Theophano, towering like a demi-god over -the mean, effeminate throng of her countrymen. Her whole being had -changed in the brief space of time, since first they had met face to -face. Then the woman's heart, filled with implacable hatred of that -imperial phantom, which had twice wrested the dominion of Rome from the -Senator's iron grasp, filled with hatred of the unwelcome intruder, had -given one great bound for joy at the certainty that he was hers,--hers -to deal with according to her desire,--that he had not withstood the -vertigo of her fateful beauty. With the first kiss she had imprinted on -his lips, she had dedicated him to the Erynnies,--it was not enough to -vanquish, she must break his heart. Thus only would her victory be -complete. - -What a terrible change had come over her now! All she possessed, all -she called her own, she would gladly have given to undo what she had -done. For the first time, as with the lightning's glare, the terrible -chasm was revealed to her, at the brink of which she stood. Strange -irony of fate! Slowly but surely she had felt the hatred of Otto vanish -from her heart. He had bared his own before her, she had penetrated the -remotest depths of his soul. She had read him as an open book. And as -she revolved in her own mind the sordid aspirations of those she called -her countrymen, the promptings of tyrants and oppressors,--thrown in the -scales against the pure and lofty ideals of the King,--a flush of shame -drove the pallor from her cheeks and caused hot tears of remorse to well -up from the depths of her eyes. - -For the first time the whole enormity of what she had done, of the -scheme to which she had lent herself, flashed upon her, and with it a -wave of hot resentment rushed through her heart. Her own blind hate and -the ever-present consciousness of the low estate to which the one-time -powerful house of Crescentius had fallen, had prompted her to accept the -trust, to commit the deed for which she despised herself. Would the -youth, whom she was to lead the sure way to perdition, have chosen such -means to attain his ends? And what would he say to her at that fatal -moment, when all his illusions would be shattered to atoms, his dreams -destroyed and his heart broken? Would he not curse her for ever having -crossed his path? Would he not tear the memory of the woman from his -heart, who had trifled with its most sacred heavings? He would die, but -she! She must live--live beside the man for whom she had sinned, for -whose personal ends she had spun this gigantic web of deception. Otto -would die:--he would not survive the shock of the revelation. His -sensitive, finely-strung temperament was not proof against such -unprecedented treachery. What the Senator's shafts and catapults had -failed to achieve,--the Senator's wife would have accomplished! But the -glory of the deed? "Gloria Victis," he had said to her when she pointed -the chances of defeat. "Gloria Victis"--and she must live! - -Otto loved her;--with a love so passionate and enduring that even death -would mock at separation.--They would belong to each other ever after. -It was not theirs to choose. It seemed to her as if they had been -destined for each other from the begin of time, as if their souls had -been one, even before their birth. And all the trust reposed in her, -all the love given to her--how was she about to requite them? Were her -countrymen worthy the terrible sacrifice? Was Crescentius, her husband? -Had his rule ennobled him? Had his rule ennobled the Romans? Were the -motives not purely personal? - -She knew she had gone too far to recede. And even if she would, nothing -could now save the German King. The avalanche which had been started -could not be stopped. The forces arrayed against Teutonic rule now -defied the control of him who had evoked them. How could she save the -King? - -Salvation for him lay only in immediate flight from Rome! The very -thought was madness. He would never consent. Not all his love for her -could prompt a deed of cowardice. He would remain and perish,--and his -blood would be charged to her account in the book of final judgment. - -How long were these dreadful hours! They seemed never ending like -eternity. A moan broke from Stephania's lips. She hid her burning face -in her white arms. Oh, the misery of this fatal love! There was no -resisting it, there was no renouncing it;--ever present in her soul, -omnipotent in her heart, it would not even cease with death; yea, -perhaps this was but the beginning.--Would she survive the terrible hour -of the final trial, when, a second Delilah, she called the Philistines -down upon her trusting foe? She moaned and tossed as in the agues of a -fever and only towards the gray dawn of morning she fell into a fitful -slumber. - -The preparations for his last rebellion against German rule had kept the -Senator of Rome within the walls of the formidable keep, which since the -days of Vitiges, the Goth, had defied every assault, no matter who the -assailant. Crescentius had succeeded in repairing the breaches in the -walls and in strengthening the defences in a manner, which would cause -every attempt to carry the mausoleum by storm to appear an undertaking -as mad as it was hopeless. He had augmented his Roman garrison, swelled -by the men-at-arms of the Roman barons pledged to his support, by Greek -auxiliaries, drawn from Torre del Grecco, and under his own personal -supervision the final preparations were being pushed to a close. His -activity was so strenuous that he appeared to be in the vaults and the -upper galleries of Castel San Angelo at the same time. He had been -seized with a restlessness which did not permit him to remain long on -any one spot. But the terrible misgivings which filled his heart with -drear forebodings, which, now it was too late to recede, caused him to -tremble before the final issue, drove the Senator of Rome like a madman -through the corridors of the huge mausoleum. Had he in truth lost the -love of his wife? Then indeed was the victory of the son of Theophano -complete. He had robbed him of all, but life--a life whose last spark -should ignite the funeral torches for the King and,--if it must be--for -Rome. - -The day was fading fast, when Crescentius mounted the stairs which led -to Stephania's apartments. His heart was heavy with fear. This hour -must set matters right between them;--in this hour he must know the -worst,---and from her own lips. She would not fail him at the final -issue, of that, as he knew her proud spirit, he was convinced. But what -availed that final issue, if he had lost the one jewel in his crown, -without which the crown itself was idle mockery? - -Stephania's apartments were deserted. Where was his wife? She never -used to leave the Castello without informing him of the goal of her -journey. Times were uncertain and the precaution well justified. With -loud voice the Senator of Rome called for Stephania's tirewoman. -Receiving no immediate reply, a terrible thought rushed through his -head. Perhaps she was even now with him,--with Otto! In its -undiminished vividness the scene at the Neptune temple arose before him. -What availed it to rave and to moan and to shriek? Was it not his own -doing,--rather the counsel of one who perhaps rejoiced in his -discomfiture? Crescentius' hand went to his head. Was such black -treachery conceivable? Could Benilo,---but no! Not even the fiend -incarnate would hatch out such a plot, tossing on a burning pillow of -anguish in sleepless midnight. - -He was about to retrace his steps below, when the individual desired, -Stephania's tirewoman, appeared and informed the Senator that her -mistress had but just left, to seek an interview with her confessor. A -momentary sigh of relief came from the lips of Crescentius. His fears -had perhaps been groundless. Still he felt the imperative necessity to -obtain proof positive of her innocence or guilt. Thus only could his -soul find rest. - -Stephania had gone to her confessor. Fate itself would never again -throw such an opportunity in his way. And he made such good speed, -that, when he came within sight of the ruins of the baths of Caracalla, -he perceived by the advancing torches, which the guards accompanying her -litter carried, that she had not yet reached her destination. - -Approaching closer, he saw them halt near the ruins and in a few moments -a woman, wrapt in a dark mantilla, stepped from her litter, received by -a bubbling, gesticulating monk, in whom the Senator immediately -recognized Fra Biccocco, the companion of Nilus. Escorted by him, she -walked hastily into the ruins, and was soon lost to sight in their -intricate windings. - -Recalling the observations he had made on a previous visit, Crescentius -wound his way from the rear to the same point, so that none of -Stephania's retinue, who were laughing and chatting among themselves, -discerned him or even discovered his presence. Then he rapidly threaded -his way to the chamber through which Fra Biccocco and Stephania had just -passed, boldly followed them into the clearing, from which Nilus' cell -was reached, and concealed himself in the long grass until Biccocco -returned from the hermit's cell. Then he approached the monk's -hermitage and took up his post of observation in the shadows, out of -sight but able to hear every word which would be exchanged between Nilus -and his confessor. - -The monk of Gaëta had been far from anticipating a visitor at this late -hour. Seated at his stone table, he had been reading some illuminated -manuscript, when he suddenly laid down the scroll and listened. The -perfect stillness of the deserted Aventine permitted some breathings of -remote music from the distant groves of Theodora to strike his ear, and -after listening for a time, he arose and traversed his cell with rapid -steps. He was about to reseat himself and to continue his disquisition -by the pale, flickering light of the candle burning before a crucifix, -when voices were audible and Biccocco entered, having scarcely time to -announce Stephania, ere she followed. - -"Good even, Father,--be not startled,--I was returning from my gardens -of Egeria and I have brought your altar some of its choicest flowers," -she said in a hushed and timid voice, while at the same time she offered -the monk some beautiful white roses of a late bloom. "Moreover, I would -speak a few words alone with you,--alone with you,--Father -Biccocco,--with your permission." - -Biccocco, looking at her, as she threw back her mantle from her -shoulders, respectfully prepared to obey, almost wondering that there -could be on earth anything so wondrously beautiful as this woman. - -"Biccocco, I command thee, stay!" exclaimed Nilus starting up. "I would -say--nay, daughter--is it thou? I knew not at first,--my sight is -dim--Biccocco, let no one trouble me--but tears? What ails our gentle -penitent? Has she forgotten a whole string of Aves? Or what heavier -offence? It was but yesterday I counselled thee,--but a few hours are -so much to a woman.--Wherefore glow thy cheeks with the fires of shame? -Biccocco--leave us!" - -"Father, I have sinned--yea, grievously sinned in these few hours, since -I have seen thee," said Stephania, when the restraint of Biccocco's -presence was removed, little suspecting what listener had succeeded. "I -have sinned and I repent,--but even in my offence lies my greatest -chastisement." - -"Art well assured, that it is remorse, and not regret?" replied the -hermit of Gaëta. "Thy sex often mistakes one for the other. But what -is the matter? Surely it might not prevent thee from taking thy needful -rest, might bide the light of day, to be told,--to be listened -to,--yet--thou art strangely pale!" - -"I have been mad, father, crazed,--I know not what I have done! I dare -not look upon thee, and tell thee! Let me arrange my flowers in thy -chalice, while I speak," replied Stephania, hiding her face in the -fragrant bundle. - -"Not so!" replied the monk. "Eye and gesture often confess more than -the apologizing lip! Kneel in thy wonted place! No other attitude -becomes thy dignity or mine;--for either thou kneelest to the servant of -God or thou debasest thyself before the brother of man!" - -Stephania complied instantly, and Nilus, throwing himself back in his -chair, fixed his eyes on the crucifix before him, without even glancing -at the penitent. - -"Father--you had warned me of all the ills that would befall," she -began, almost inaudibly, "but I longed to see him at my feet,--and -more,--much more!" - -"What is all this?" said the monk turning very pale and glancing at his -fair penitent with a degree of fierceness mingled with surprise. - -"Ah! You know not what a woman feels,--when--when--" She paused, -breathing hard. - -"Hast thou then committed a deadly sin? Some dark adultery of the -soul?" exclaimed Nilus. "Nay, daughter," he continued, as she shrank -within herself at his words, "I speak too harshly now! But what more -hast to say? Time wears--and this soft cheek should be upon the down, -or its sweetness will not bloom as freshly as some of its rivals, at -dawn. Thou see'st this hermitage, from which thou wouldst lure me, -yields some recollections to brighten its desolation and gloom. What is -it thou wouldst say?" - -Stephania stared for a moment into the monk's face, at a loss to grasp -his meaning. At last she stammered. - -"Yet--I but intended to win him to--some silly tryst,--wherein I -intended to deride his boyish passions." - -"And he refused thy lures and thou art vexed to have escaped perdition?" -said the monk, more mildly. - -"Nay--for he came!" - -"He came! Jest not in a matter like this! He came? Thou knowest of all -mankind I have reasons to wish this youth well,--this one at least!" -said Nilus somewhat incoherently. - -"He came,--once,--twice,--many times! He came, I say, and---" - -"What of him? Thou hast not had him harmed for trusting his enemy?" - -Stephania's cheek took the hues of marble. - -"Harmed? I would rather perish myself than that he should come to -harm." - -Nilus was silent for a moment or two, and Stephania, as if to take -courage, timidly took his hand, holding it between her own. - -"I must needs avow my whole offence," she stammered, "he came,--and--" - -"Why dost pause, daughter?" questioned the monk, with penetrating look. - -"Nay--but hear me!" continued Stephania. "I first intended but to win -his confidence,--then,--having drawn him out--expose him to the just -laughter of my court." - -"A most womanly deed! But where did this meeting take place?" - -"In the Grottos of Egeria!" - -"In the Grottos of Egeria!" the monk repeated aghast. - -"And then," she continued with a great sadness in her tone, "I never -felt so strangely mad,--I would have him share some offence, to justify -the clamour I had provided, scarcely I know how to believe it now -myself.--I did to his lips,--what I now do to your hand." - -And she kissed the monk's yellow hand with timid reverence. - -"Thou! Thou! Stephania,--the wife of Crescentius, and not yet set in -the first line of the book of shame!" shouted the monk, convulsively -starting at every word of his own climax. "Begone--begone! The vessel -is full, even to overflowing!--Tell me no more,--tell me no more!" - -"Your suspicion indeed shows me all my ignominy," said Stephania, -groping for his hand, which he had snatched furiously away. "But he -only suffered it,--because he guessed not my intent in the darkness." - -"In the darkness?" - -"In the darkness." - -"Deemest thou it possible to clasp the plague and to evade the -contagion?" questioned the monk. "Woman, I command thee, stop! Stop -ere the condemning angel closes the record!" - -Stephania raised her head petulantly. - -"Monk, thou knowest not all! During all this meeting the Senator of -Rome was present in the Grotto and watched us from one of the ivy -hollows in the cave!" - -"The Senator of Rome!" exclaimed the monk with evident amazement. "How -came he there?" - -"By contrivance!" - -"I do not understand!" - -"It was at his behest that I have done the deed, to further his vast -projects, call it his ambition, if you will--to which the King is the -stumbling block. Ask me no more,--for I will not answer!" - -Nilus seemed struck dumb by the revelation. - -"Take comfort, daughter, he cannot,--he cannot--" whispered the monk, -bending over her and speaking in so low a tone that the devouring -listener could not distinguish one word. - -For a time not a word was to be heard, Nilus inclining his ear to -Stephania's lips, whose confession was oft times broken by sobs. - -"Tell me all,--all!" said the monk. - -"As the fatal hour approaches the strength begins to forsake me,--I -cannot do it!" she groaned. - -"Yet he is the enemy of Rome, so you say," the monk said mockingly. - -"He is the friend of Rome and--I love him!" - -In a shriek the last words broke from her lips. - -"Domine an me reliquisti!" shouted the monk. "Some sign now--some -sign--or--" - -His raving exclamation was cut short by a sound not unlike the oracle -implored. A large block of stone, dislodged by a sudden and violent -movement of the unseen listener, rolled with a hollow rumble down into -the vaults below. - -The monk started up from the benediction which he was bending forward to -pronounce, almost dashed Stephania away, rushed to his altar and casting -himself prostrate before the divine symbol which adorned it, he muttered -in a frantic ecstasy of devotion: - -"Gloria Domino! Gloria in Excelsis! Blessed be Thy name for ever and -ever! Praise ye the Lord! He saves in the furnace of fire!" - -Stephania gazed in mute amazement at the monk. His frantic appeal and -its apparent fulfilment had struck dismay into her soul, and when at -length he raised himself, and turned towards her, she could hardly find -words to speak. - -But Nilus waved his hand. - -"Go now, Stephania," he commanded. "Go! I will devise some fitting -penance at more leisure." - -"But, Father--my request." - -"Ay, truly," he replied, with supreme melancholy. "Is it not the wont -of the world to throw away the flower, when we have withered it with our -evil breath?" - -"But I cannot do it,--I cannot do it," Stephania moaned, raising her -hands imploringly to the monk. - -"It is for a mightier than Nilus to counsel," the monk spoke mournfully. -"Thou standest on the brink of a precipice, from which nothing but the -direct intervention of Heaven can save thee! Pray to the Immaculate One -for enlightenment, and if the words of a monk have weight with thee, -even against him, thou callest thy lord before the world,--desist, ere -thou art engulfed in the black abyss, which yawns at thy feet.--When he -is dead, it will be too late!" - -And raising his lamp, to escort Stephania to her litter, the monk and -the woman left the chamber, and Crescentius had barely time to conceal -himself behind the boulders ere they appeared and passed by him, the -monk anxiously guiding every step of his penitent. - -The moon was sinking, when Stephania arrived at Castel San Angelo. - -Taking the candle from the hands of the page, who had awaited her return -with sleepy eyes, she dismissed him and passed into the lofty hall, dark -and chill as a cellar, beyond which lay the Senator's, her husband's, -apartments. She swiftly traversed the hall,--then she hesitated. No -doubt he was asleep. What good was there in waking him? As she turned -to retrace her steps to her own chamber, a strange and eerie gust of -wind swept shrieking round the battlements, howled in the chimney, -invaded the chamber with icy breath and almost extinguished the candle. -Then there was a great hush. It seemed to her she could hear distant -music from the Aventine, the murmur of voices, the sound of iron chains -from the vaults below. To this,--or to death,--she had consigned the -son of Theophano, the boy-king, who loved her.--To this?--Anguish and -terror seized her soul. She felt, she must not move--must not look. -There it stood,--blacker than the investing darkness,--its head -bent,--shrouded in the cowl of a monk. What was it? Once before she -had seen it,--then it had faded away in the gloom. But misfortune rode -invariably in its wake. She tried to scream, to call the page, but her -voice choked in her throat. She staggered toward the door; her limbs -refused to support her;--groaning she covered her eyes. Otto down -there,--or dead,--why had she never thought of it before? Now the monk -made a step toward her; the face had nothing corpse-like in it, nothing -appalling, yet she felt a freezing and unearthly cold; almost fainting -she staggered up the narrow winding stairs. And entering her lofty -chamber Stephania fell unconscious upon her couch. - -After Crescentius had returned from the hermitage of Nilus, he gave -strict orders to the guards of Castel San Angelo to admit no one, no -matter who might crave an audience, and entering his own chamber, he -lighted a candle. He had seen and heard, and he knew that the heart of -his wife had gone from him for ever! At the terrible certainty he grew -dizzy. A fearful price he had paid for his perfidy,--and now, there was -no one in all the world he could trust. He dared not speak. He dared -not even breathe his anguish. She must never know that he knew all,--no -one must know. His lips must be sealed. The world should never point -at him,--for this at least! - -But terrible as his suffering must be his vengeance. He who had robbed -him of his priceless gem, the wife of his soul, all he loved on -earth,--he should languish and rot under her very chambers, where she -might nightly hear his groans, without daring to plead for him. There -was no further time for parley. The stroke must fall at once! Too long -had he tarried. The Rubicon was passed. - -Pacing up and down the gloomy chamber, Crescentius paused before the -sand-clock. It was near midnight. Yet sleep was far from caressing his -aching lids, as far as balm from his aching heart. He raised the candle -in an unconscious effort, to go to his wife's apartment. He lingered. -Then he placed the candle down again and seated himself in a chair. His -gaze fell upon a broad stain on the floor and like one fascinated he -followed its least meander to a distance of several feet from the door, -when suddenly a form met his eyes, whether the off-spring of his -delirious fancy or one of those inexplicable and tremendous phenomena, -which are incapable of human solution, while the secrets of death remain -such. His garb was that of a monk; the face bore the awful pallor of -the tomb, and a mournful tenderness seemed to struggle with the rigidity -of death. The phantom, if such it was, stood perfectly motionless -between Crescentius and the couch, in a few moments it grew indistinct -and finally faded into air. - -It was then only, that Crescentius recovered breath and life, and -staggered back to his chair. A few moments' rally persuaded him that -what he had seen had been merely the illusion of his excited organs. -But a dreadful longing for death assailed him, a longing like that which -prompts men to leap when they gaze down a precipice. He rose,--again -the phantom seemed there,--this time distinct and clear. Terror rendered -him motionless; the room seemed to whirl round, a million lights danced -in his eyes, then he sank back covering his face with his hands. - -When he again opened his eyes, his brain seemed shooting with the -keenest darts of pain. He endeavoured to pray, but could not. His -ideas rushed confusedly through each other. The taper was fast sinking -in the socket, and it seemed as if his mind would sink with it. He -emptied a goblet of wine which stood upon the table, and strove to -remember what he intended to do. It seemed a vain effort and he fell -back in his chair into a semi-conscious doze. An hour might have passed -thus, when he became aware of a slight crackling noise in his ears and -starting with a sensation of cold he looked round. The fire in the -chimney had burnt into red embers, and though his own form was lost in -the shadow of the chimney, the rest of the room was faintly illumined by -the crimson glow from the grate. - -Suddenly he saw the tapestry figure of some mythical deity opposite his -own seat stir; the tapestry swelled out, then a head appeared, which -peered cautiously round. The body soon followed the head, and -Crescentius rose with a sigh of relief as he stood face to face with -Benilo. The Chamberlain's face was pale; his eyes, with their unsteady -glow, showed traces of wakefulness. He took from his doublet a scroll -which he placed into the outstretched hand of the Senator of Rome. -Mechanically Crescentius unrolled it. His hands trembled as he -superficially swept its contents. - -"The barons pledge their support,--not a name is missing," Benilo broke -the silence in hushed tones. - -"What is it to be?" questioned Crescentius. - -"I speak for the extreme course and for Rome. For attack--sudden and -swift!" - -There was a pause, Crescentius stared into the dying embers. - -"Are all your plans complete?" - -"The Romans wait impatiently upon my words. At the signal all Rome will -rise to arms!" - -"But how about the Romans? Can they be depended upon?" - -"I move them at the raising of my hand!" - -There was another pause. - -Crescentius appeared strangely abstracted. - -"But what of Otto? What of Eckhardt? Do they scent the wind from -Castel San Angelo?" - -"As for the Saxon cherub," Benilo replied with a disgusting smile, "he -is dreaming of his--" - -He did not finish the sentence, for Crescentius cast such a terrible -look upon him, that the blood froze in the traitor's veins, and his eyes -sank before those blazing upon him. After a moment's hesitation he -continued, the shadow of a forced smile hovering round his thin, -quivering lips: - -"When he is dead, we shall cause the Wonder-child to be canonized!" - -But Crescentius was in no jocular mood. - -"Have you chosen your men?" he queried curtly. - -"They will be stationed in the labyrinth of the Minotaurus," Benilo -replied. "At the signal agreed upon, they will rush forth and seize the -King--" - -As he spoke those words the Chamberlain gazed timidly into the Senator's -face. - -"The signal will not fail," Crescentius replied firmly. - -"Is the mausoleum prepared to withstand an assault?" Benilo questioned -guardedly. - -"The hidden balistae have been disinterred. My Albanian stradiotes and -the Romagnole guards occupy the chief approaches. The upper galleries -are reserved for our Roman allies. They will never scale these walls -while Crescentius lives. Remember--the gates of Rome are to be closed. -We will smother the Saxon under our caresses! I must have Otto dead or -alive! Revenge and Death are now written on my standards! Up with the -flag of rebellion and perdition to the emperor and his hosts!" - -The gray dawn was peeping into the windows of the Senator's chamber, -when Crescentius sought his couch for a brief and fitful repose. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *THE LION OF BASALT* - - -It was midnight of a dark and still evening on the Tiber and peace had -for the most part descended upon the great city. The lamps in the houses -were extinguished and the challenges of the watch alone were now and -then to be heard. The streets were deserted, for few ventured abroad -after night fall. Sluggishly the turbid tide of the Tiber rolled -towards ancient Portus. The moon was hidden behind heavy cloudbanks, -and when now and then it pierced a rift in the nebulous masses, it shed -a spectral light over the silent hills, but to plunge them back into -abysmal darkness. - -The bells from distant cloisters and convents were pealing the midnight -hour when out of the gloom of the waters there passed a light skiff -wherein were seated two men, closely wrapped in their long, dark cloaks. -The one seated on the prow was bent almost double with age, and his long -beard swept the bottom of the skiff. He appeared indifferent to his -surroundings and stared straight before him into the darkness, while his -companion, constantly on the alert, never seemed to take his eyes from -the boatman who plied his oars in silence, causing the frail craft to -descend the river with great swiftness. - -At last they made for the shore. An extensive mansion loomed out of the -gloom, which seemed to be the goal of their journey. Obeying the -whispered directions of the taller of his passengers, the boatman -steered his craft under a dark archway, whence a flight of stairs led up -to the door, of what appeared to be a garden pavilion. Swiftly the -sculler shot under the arch and in another moment drew up by the stairs. - -Leaning heavily on the arm of his companion the soothsayer alighted from -the skiff with slow and uncertain steps and after ascending the -water-stairs his guide knocked three times at the door of the pavilion. -It was instantly opened and an African in fantastic livery, who seemed -to fill the office of Cubicular, beckoned them to enter. With all the -signs of exhaustion and the weariness of his years weighing heavily upon -him, the conjurer dropped into a seat, paying no heed whatever to his -surroundings nor to his companion, who had withdrawn into the shadows, -while he awaited the arrival of the woman, who had called on his skill. - -He had not long to wait. - -Noiselessly a door opened and the majestic and graceful form of a woman -glided into the pavilion, robed in a long black cloak and closely -veiled. She motioned to the attendants to withdraw and to the -astrologer to approach. - -"Most learned doctor of astral science," she said in a soft clear voice -of command, "you have brought me the calculations which your learning -has enabled you to make as to the future of the persons whose nativities -were supplied to you?" - -The astrologer had been seized with a sudden violent fit of coughing and -some moments elapsed ere he seemed able to speak. - -So low and weak were his tones, that the woman could not understand one -word he uttered, and she began to exhibit unequivocal signs of -impatience, when the conjurer's voice somewhat improved. - -"The horoscopes," he said in a strangely jarring tone, "are the most -wonderful that our science has ever revealed to me. They indicate most -amazing changes of life, and signs of imminent peril." - -"You speak of one,--or of both?" - -"Of both!" - -"Give me the details of each horoscope!" - -The astrologer nodded. - -Theodora watched him from behind her veil as closely as he did her, for -ever and anon he stole furtive glances at her and was immediately seized -with his cough. - -His voice grated strangely in her ear as he spoke. - -"The first, whose nativity I have calculated, is that of one born thirty -years, one hundred and seventeen days, and ten hours from this moment. -It was a birth under the sign of the Serpent, at an hour charged with -vast possibilities for the future. At that instant the Zodiac was moved -by portentous lights and the earth shook with tremors as I have -ascertained in the records of our art!" - -"What are the signs of the future?" the woman interrupted the speaker. -"What is past and gone, we all know, even without the aid of your -profound wisdom. What of the future, I ask?" she concluded imperiously. - -"I hate to impart to you what I have found," said the astrologer -cringing. "It is terrible. The declination of the house of Death -stands close to the right ascension of the house of Life!" - -Theodora gave a sudden start. For a moment she seemed to lose her -self-control. Her piercing eyes seemed to look the astrologer through -and through, though he had shrunk back into the wide girth of his -mantle. - -"Give me the scroll!" - -She stretched out a hand white as alabaster to take the parchment -whereon the astrologer had marked the rise and fall of the star records. -But, as if seized with a sudden fear, she withdrew the hand ere the man -of the stars could comply with her request. - -"The second horoscope!" she spoke imperiously. - -Again a long fit of coughing prevented the astrologer from speaking. - -When it subsided, he said with profound solemnity, watching her -expression intently from between his half-closed lids: - -"That other, whose nativity you have sent to me, shall find -death,--death, sudden and shameful--" - -She stood rigid as a statue. - -"Tell me more!" she gasped. "Tell me more!" - -"He will die hated,--unlamented,--despised--" - -She drew a deep breath. - -"When shall that be?" - -"There is at this moment a most ominous sign in the heavens," replied -the astrologer shrinking within himself. "Venus, who rules the skies is -obscured by too close attendance upon a lower and less honourable star." - -Theodora held her breath. - -"What comes after?" she whispered. - -"The lore of astral combinations does not reveal such things. But -palmistry may aid, where the constellations fail. Deign to let me trace -the lines in the palm of your hand." - -Flinging aside her last reserve, Theodora in her eagerness held out her -palm to the astrologer. He bent over it, without touching it, shaking -his head, and muttering: - -"The line of life,--the line of love,--the line of death--" - -As the astrologer pronounced the last word, his hand grasped with a -vice-like grip the one whose lines he had pretended to read, while with -the other, which had dropped the supporting staff, he pushed back the -loose sleeve of her gown, baring her arm almost to the shoulder, -constantly muttering: - -"The line of Death,--the line of Death,--the line of Death!" - -When Theodora first felt the tightening grip on her wrist, she tried to -withdraw her hand, but her strength was not equal to the task. She felt -the benumbing pressure of what she imagined were the astrologer's -fleshless claws, but when, with a motion almost too swift for one bent -with age and infirmity, he laid bare to the shoulder the marble -whiteness of her arm, she thought he had gone mad. But when the -astrologer's trembling finger pointed to the red birthmark on her arm, -just below her shoulder, resembling the claw of a raven, constantly -muttering: "The line of Death--the line of Death," she uttered a -piercing shriek for help, vainly endeavouring to shake him off. - -A shadow dashed between the two, neither knew whence it came. - -The astrologer saw the gleam of a dagger before his eyes, felt its point -strike against the corselet of mail beneath his cloak, felt the weapon -rebound and snap asunder, the fragments falling at his feet, and -releasing the woman, who stood like an image of stone, he dropped his -cloak and supporting staff, and clove with one blow of his short -double-edged sword the skull of his assailant to the neck. With a -piercing shriek Theodora rushed from the Pavilion, followed in mad -breathless pursuit by the pseudo-astrologer, who had dropped his false -beard with his other disguises and stood revealed to her terror-stricken -gaze as Eckhardt, the Margrave. - -Without heeding the warning cry of Hezilo, his companion, he was bent -upon taking the woman. In the darkness he could hear the rush of her -frightened footsteps through the corridors; he seemed to gain upon her, -when her giant Africans rushing through another passage came between the -Margrave and his intended victim. Three steps did he make through the -press and three of her guards fell beneath his sword. But a stranger in -the labyrinth of the great pavilion, he could hardly hope to gain his -end, even if unimpeded, and Theodora's formidable body-guard still -outnumbered him three to one. Eckhardt's doom would have been sealed -had not at that very moment Hezilo appeared in the passage behind him -and laid an arresting hand upon his arm. - -Before the harper's well-known presence the Africans fell back, raising -their dead from the blood-stained floor and skulking back into the dusk -of the corridor. - -"You have no time to lose," urged the harper. "Follow me!--Speak -not,--question not. Remember your compact and your oath." - -Eckhardt turned upon his guide like a lion at bay. His face was pale as -that of a corpse. His blood-shot eyes stared, as if they must burst -from their sockets; his hair bristled like that of a maniac. - -"What care I?" he growled fiercely. "Compact or oath--what care I?" - -"There are other considerations at stake," replied Hezilo calmly. "You -promised to be guided by my counsel. The hour of final reckoning is not -yet at hand." - -Eckhardt's breast heaved so violently, that it almost deprived him of -the faculty of speech. - -"Must I turn back at the very gates of fulfilment?" he burst forth at -last. But sheathing his weapon he reluctantly followed the harper and, -retracing their steps, they re-entered the Pavilion. In the slain -boatman they recognized the ghastly features of John of the Catacombs, -though the bravo's skull was literally cloven in twain and a strange -dread seized upon them at the terrible revelation. Eckhardt stood by -idly, while the harper insisted upon removing the body, and wrapping his -ghastly burden in his blood-stained monkish gown, showed small -repugnance to carrying the bravo's carcass to the landing, where he -fastened a short iron chain to the gruesome package and dropped it into -the muddy waves of the Tiber. - -Dark clouds swept over the face of the moon and the chill wind of autumn -moaned dismally through the spectral pines, as the boat, propelled by -the sturdy arms of Hezilo, flew up stream over the murky, foam-crested -waves. - -An icy hand seemed to grip Eckhardt's heart. The words wrung from the -dying wretch in the rock-caves under the Gemonian stairs had proved -true. In baring Theodora's left arm his eyes had fallen upon the -well-remembered birthmark resembling the raven claw. The terrible -revelation had for the nonce almost upset his reason, and caused him -prematurely to drop his mask. All clarity of thought, all fixedness of -purpose had deserted him; he felt as one stunned by the blinding blow of -a maze. Dazed he stared before him into the gloom of the autumnal -night; his hair dishevelled, his eyelids swollen, his lips compressed. -He could not have uttered a word had his life depended upon it. His -tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth; his brow was fevered, -yet his hands were cold as ice. At last then he had stood face to face -with the awful mystery, which had mocked his waking hours, his -dreams,--a mystery, even now but half guessed, but half revealed. He -tried to recall fragments of the monk's tale. But his brain refused to -work, steeped in the apathy of despair. The future hour must give birth -to the considerations of the final step, to the closing chapters of his -life. Yet he felt that delay would engender madness; long brooding had -shaken his reason and swift action alone could now save it from -tottering to a hopeless fall. - -The frail craft shot round the elbow-like bend of the Tiber at the base -of Aventine when Hezilo for the first time broke the silence. He had -refrained from questioning or commenting on the result of their visit to -the Groves. Now, pointing to the ramparts of Castel San Angelo he -whispered into Eckhardt's ear: - -"Are your forces beyond recall?" - -Eckhardt stared up into the speaker's face, as if the latter had -addressed him in some strange tongue. Only after Hezilo had repeated -his question, Eckhardt roused himself from the lethargy, which benumbed -his senses and gazed in the direction indicated by the harper. - -An errant moonbeam illumined just at this moment the upper galleries of -Hadrian's tomb. Straining his gaze towards the ramparts of the -formidable keep, Eckhardt strove to discover a reason for Hezilo's -warning. But the moon disappeared behind a bank of clouds and at that -moment the sculler ran in shore. - -Unconsciously his hand tightened round the hilt of his sword. - -"The earth breeds hard men and weak men," he muttered. "The gods can but -laugh at them or grow wroth with them. As for these Romelings,--they are -not worth destroying. They will perish of themselves." - -"The hour is close at hand, when everything shall be known to you," -Hezilo turned to Eckhardt at parting. "But three days remain to the -full of the moon." - -Weary and sick at heart Eckhardt grasped the harper's proffered hand, as -they parted. - -But he was in no mood to return within the four walls of his palace. He -was as one upon whom has descended a thunder bolt from Heaven. - -The terrible revelation deprived him of his senses, of his energies, of -the desire to live,--and there was little doubt that this would have -been Eckhardt's last night on earth, had there not remained one purpose -to his life. - -How small did even that appear by the magnitude of the crime, which had -been visited upon his head. The how and why and when remained as great -a mystery to him as ever. Eckhardt's memory roamed back into the years -of the past. He tried to recall every word Ginevra had spoken to him; he -tried to recall every wish her lips had expressed, he tried to recall -every unstinted caress. And with these memories there rose up before -his inner eye Ginevra's image and with it there welled up from his heart -an anguish so great, that it drove the nails of his fingers deep into -the flesh of his clenched hands. - -He remembered her strange request never to inquire into her past, but to -love her and let his trust be the proof of his love. Then there came -floating faintly, like phantoms on the dark waves of his memory, her -inordinate desire for power, hinted rather than expressed,--then -darkness swallowed, everything else. Only boundless anguish remained, -fathomless despair. After a while his feelings suffered a reverse; they -changed to a hate of the woman as great as his love had been,--a hate -for the fateful siren, Rome, who had deprived him of all that was -dearest to him on earth. - -Bending his solitary steps towards the Capitol, he saw the veil-like -mists gathering above the wild grass, which waves above the palaces of -the Cæsars. On a mound of ruins he stood with folded arms musing and -intent. In the distance lay the melancholy tombs of the Campagna and -the circling hills faintly outlined beneath the pale starlight. Not a -breeze stirred the dark cypresses and spectral pines. There was -something weird in the stillness of the skies, hushing the desolate -grandeur of the earth below. - -He had not gone very far when a shadow fell across his path. Looking up -he again found himself by the staircase of the Lion of Basalt. The -weird relic from the banks of the Nile filled him with a strange dread. -With a shudder he paused. Was it the ghastly and spectral light or did -the face of the old Egyptian monster wear an aspect as that of life? -The stony eye-balls seemed bent upon him with a malignant scowl and as -he passed on and looked behind they appeared almost preternaturally to -follow his steps. A chill sank into his heart when the sound of -footsteps arrested him and Eckhardt stood face to face with the hermit -of Gaëta. He beckoned to the monk to accompany him, vainly endeavouring -to frame the question, which hovered on his lips. The monk joined him -in silence. After walking some little way Nilus suddenly paused, fixing -his questioning gaze on the brooding face of his companion. Then a -strange expression passed into his eyes. - -"Life is full of strange surprises. Yet we cling to it, just to keep -out of the darkness through which we know not the way." - -Sick at heart Eckhardt listened. How little the monk knew, he thought, -and Nilus was staggered at the haggard expression of the Margrave's -face, as he stumbled blindly and giddily down the moonlit avenue beside -him. - -"Would I had never seen her!" Eckhardt groaned. "In what a fair -disguise the fiend did come to tempt my soul!" - -He paused. The monk drew him onward. - -"Come with me to my hermitage! Thou art strangely excited and do what -thou mayest,--thou must follow out thy destiny! Hesitate not to confide -in me!" - -"My destiny!" Eckhardt replied. "Monk, do not mock me! If thou hast -any mystic power, read my soul and measure its misery. I have no -destiny, save despair." - -The monk regarded him strangely. - -"Because a woman is false and thy soul is weak, thou needest not at once -make bosom friends with despair. It is a long time since I have been in -the world. It is a long time since I have abjured its vanities. Let -him who has withstood the terrible temptation, cast the first stone. -For the flesh is weak and the sin is as old as the world; And perchance -even the monk may be able to counsel, to guide thee in some -matters,--for verily thou standest on the brink of a precipice." - -"I am well-nigh mad!" Eckhardt replied wearily. "Were there but a ray -of light to guide my steps." - -Nilus pointed upward. - -"All light flows from the fountain-head of truth. Be true to thyself! -Life is duty! In its fulfilment alone can there be happiness,--and in -the renunciation of that, which has been denied us by the Supreme -Wisdom. No more than thou canst reverse the wheel of time, no more -canst thou compel that dark power, Fate. And at best--what matters it -for the short space of this earthly existence? For believe me, the End -of Time is nigh,--and in the beyond all will be as if it had never -been." - -Nilus paused and their eyes met. And in silence Eckhardt followed the -monk among the ruins of the latter's abode. - -As the morning dawned, some fishermen dragging their nets off St. -Bartholomew's island pulled up from the muddy waves the body of an old -man clad in the loose garb of a monk. But as the day grew older a new -crime and fresh scandal filled Forum and wine shops and the incident was -forgotten ere night-fall. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *THE LAST TRYST* - - -The great clock on the tower of San Sebastian struck the second hour of -night. The air was so pure, so transparent, that against the horizon -the snow-capped summit of Soracté was visible, like a crown of -glittering crystal. Mysteriously the stars twinkled in the fathomless -blue of the autumnal night. Procession after procession traversed the -city. From their torches smoky spirals rose up to the starry skies. -The pale rays of the moon, the crimson glare of the torches, illumined -faces haggard with fear, seamed with anxiety and dread. Despite the late -hour, the people swarmed like ants, occupying every point of vantage, -climbing lantern poles and fallen columns, armed with clubs, halberds, -scythes, pitchforks and staves. Here and there strange muffled forms -were to be seen mingling with the crowds, whispering here and there a -word into the ear of a chance passerby and vanishing like phantoms into -the night. - -Among the many abroad in the city at this hour was Eckhardt. He -mistrusted the Romans, he mistrusted the Senator, he mistrusted the -monks. The fire of his own consuming thoughts would not permit him to -remain within the four walls of his palace. Like a grim spectre of the -past he stalked through Rome, alone, unattended. How long would the -terrible mystery of his life continue to mock him? How much longer must -he bear the awful weight which was crushing his spirit with its -relentless agony? What availed his presence in Rome? The king had long -ceased to consult him on matters of state; Benilo and Stephania -possessed his whole ear--and Eckhardt was no longer in his counsels. - -With a degree of anxiety, which he had in vain endeavoured to dispel, -Eckhardt had watched the growing intimacy between his sovereign and the -Senator's wife. Time and again he had, even at the risk of Otto's -fierce displeasure, warned the King against the danger lurking behind -Stephania's mask of friendship. Wearied and exasperated with his -importunities, Otto had asserted the sovereign, and Eckhardt's lips had -remained sealed ever since, though his watchfulness had not relaxed one -jot, and even while he endeavoured to lift the veil, which enshrouded -his own life, he remained circumspect and on the alert, true to his -promise to the Empress Theophano, now in her grave. - -The sounds which on this night fell from every side on Eckhardt's ear -were not of a nature to dispel his misgivings of the Roman temper. As -by a subtle intuition he felt that they were ripe for a change, though -when and whence and how it would come he could not guess. His own mood -was as dark as the sky-gloom lowering over the Seven Hills. Rome had -made of him what he was, Rome had poisoned his life with the viper-sting -of Ginevra's terrible deed, and now he longed for nothing more than for -some great event, which would toss him into the foaming billows of -strife, therein to sink and to go under for ever. - -Drawing his mantle closer about him and lowering the vizor of his -helmet, Eckhardt slowly made his way through the congested throngs. He -had not proceeded very far, when he felt some one pluck him by the -mantle. Turning abruptly and shaking himself free, from what he -believed to be the clutches of a beggar, he was about to dismiss the -offender with an oath, when to his surprise he beheld a woman dressed in -the garb of a peasant, but clearly disguised, as her speech gave the lie -to her affectation of low birth. - -"You are Eckhardt, the Margrave?" she asked timidly. - -"I am Eckhardt," the general replied curtly. - -"Then lose no time to save him, else he will run into perdition as sure -as yonder moon shines down upon us. Oh! He knows not the dangers that -beset him;--on my knees I implore you---save him!" - -"When I understand the meaning of your gibberish, doubt not I will serve -you! I pray you give me a glimpse of its purport," replied the -Margrave. - -The woman seemed so entirely wrapt up in her own business that she did -not heed Eckhardt's question. - -"I dare not whisper the secret to any one else,--and my Lord Benilo bade -me seek you in case of danger. And if you cannot move him from his mad -purpose, he is lost, for never was he so bent to have his own way. If -you come with me, you will find him waiting on the terrace,--and do your -best to lead him back,--else he will come to as evil an end as a wasp in -a bee's hive,--for all the honey!" - -"And whom shall I find on the terrace?" asked Eckhardt with -ill-concealed impatience. He liked not the babbling crone. "Cease your -spurting and speak plainly, else go your way:--I am not for such as -you!" - -"It wants but a moment--whom else but your King, for whom she has sent -under pretext of important business,--aye,--at this very hour and on the -terraces of the Minotaurus." - -"Otto,--important business,--Minotaurus--" repeated Eckhardt. "Who has -sent for him?" - -"Stephania." - -Eckhardt shrugged his shoulders. - -"What is it to me? Go your way, hoary pander,--what is it to me? -Hasten to him, who has paid you to tell this tale and get your ransom -from him! I wager, he knows the style of old!" - -The woman did not move. - -"Nay, my lord, that we all should go mad at one time," she sobbed with -evidently strong emotions, which were perhaps not caused by the motive -alleged. "Then I must away and fulfil his destiny,--for a man cannot -serve two masters,--nor a woman either." - -There was something in the speaker's tone that caused a shadow of -apprehension to rise in Eckhardt's mind. Was there more behind all this -than she cared to confess? "Fulfil his destiny"--these words at least -were not her own. A grave fear seized him. Otto might be -ambushed,--carried away,--he might rot in Castel San Angelo, and no man -the wiser for it. - -"Stay! I will go and cross the boy's path to his guilty paradise," -repeated Eckhardt after permitting the woman to draw away from him at a -very slow and wistful pace and overtaking her with a couple of strides. -"Lead on, but do not speak! I have no tongue to answer you!" - -The woman immediately took the well-known route towards the terraces of -the Minotaurus and soon they reached the spot. A covered archway at one -extremity admitted on a terrace, flanked on one side by a high dead wall -of the Vatican, on the other by a steep and precipitous slope, wooded -with orange trees and myrtle. This spot, little frequented in day time, -was deserted by night. The woman whispered that it was here, she -expected the King, and cautioning Eckhardt to remove him with all speed -from this danger zone, which offered no means of escape, she -precipitately retired, leaving Eckhardt alone to meditate upon what he -had heard, and to pursue his adventure in the darkness. - -The Margrave hastened along the archway and peering into the shadows he -quickly discerned the slim outline of a man, wrapt in an ample cloak, -leaning against the dead wall at the end of the platform. His eyes -seemed fixed intently upon the heavens, while an expression of -impatience reigned uppermost in the pale, thoughtful face. - -Eckhardt quickly approached the edge of the terrace, where he had -discovered Otto, and although the King kept his face averted, he could -scarcely hope to escape recognition. - -"Otto--the King--can it be?" Eckhardt said with feigned surprise, as he -faced the youth. "I beg your majesty's pardon,--are you a lodger in -yonder palace or how chances it that you are here alone,--unattended?" - -"Ay--since you know me," replied Otto with a forced smile, "I will not -deny my name nor business either. The ladies of the Senator's court are -fair, and an ancient crone whispered to me at my devotions to Our Lady, -on this terrace and at this hour, if I prayed heartily, I should have -good news. Matter enough, I ween, to stir one's curiosity, but,--I -fear,--I should be alone." - -The blood surged thickly through Eckhardt's brain. He could scarcely -breathe, as he listened to this falsehood and for a few moments he gazed -in silence on the flushed and paling visage of the youth. - -At last he spoke. - -"Is it possible that the air of Rome can even change a nature like yours -to utter a falsehood? My liege,--you are not yourself!" Eckhardt -exclaimed, discarding all reserve, for he knew there was no time to be -lost. And if perchance the fair serpent that had lured him hither was -nigh, his words should strike her heart with shame and dismay. "It is to -Stephania you go,--it is Stephania, whom you await!" - -There was a brief pause during which a hectic flush chased the deep -pallor from Otto's face, as he passively listened to the unaccustomed -speech. - -"Stephania," he repeated absently, and suffering his cloak to drop aside -in his absorption, he revealed the richness and splendour of the garb -beneath. - -"The wife of the Senator of Rome!" Eckhardt supplemented sternly. - -"And what if it be?" Otto responded with mingled petulancy and -confusion. "What if the Senator's consort has vouchsafed me a private -audience?" - -"Are you beside yourself, King Otto? You venture into this place -alone,--unattended,--to please some woman's whim,--a woman who is -playing with you,--and will lead you to perdition?" - -"How dare you arraign your King and his deeds?" Otto exclaimed fiercely. - -"I am here to save you--from yourself! You know not the consequences of -your deed!" - -"Let them be what they will! I am here, to abide them!" - -Eckhardt crossed his arms over his broad chest as he regarded the -offspring of the vanquisher of the Saracens with mingled scorn and pity. - -"The spell is heavy upon you, here among the crimson and purple flowers, -where the Siren sings you to destruction," he said with forced calmness. -"But you shall no longer listen to her voice, else you are lost. -Otto,--Otto,--away with me! We will leave this accursed spot and Rome -together--for ever! There is no other refuge for you from the spell of -the Sorceress." - -"Not for all the lands on which the sun sets to-night will I refuse -obedience to Stephania's call," Otto replied. "You sorely mistake your -place and presume too much on the authority placed into your hands by -the august Empress, my mother. But attempt not to exercise mastery over -your King or to bend him to your will and purpose--for he will do as he -chooses!" - -"It has come to this then," replied Eckhardt without stirring from the -spot and utterly disregarding Otto's increasing nervousness. "It has -come to this! Are there no chaste and fair maidens in your native land? -Maidens of high birth and lineage, fit to adorn an emperor's couch? -Must you needs come hither,--hither,--to this thrice accursed spot, to -love an alien, to love a Roman, and of all Romans, a married woman--the -wife of your arch-enemy, the Senator? Are you blind, King Otto? Can -you not see the game? You alone--of all? Deem you the proud, merciless -Stephania, the consort of the Senator, who hates us Teutons more than he -does the fiend himself,--would meet you here in this secluded spot, with -her husband's knowledge,--with her husband's connivance,--simply to -listen to your dreams and vagaries? Can you not see that you are but her -dupe? King Otto, you have refused to listen to my warnings:--there is -sedition rife in Rome. Retire to the Aventine, bar the gates to every -one,--I have despatched my fleetest messenger to Tivoli to recall our -contingents,--before dawn my Saxons shall hammer at the gates of Rome!" - -Otto gazed at the speaker as if the latter addressed him in some unknown -tongue. - -"Sedition in Rome?" he replied like one wrapt in a dream. "You are mad! -The Romans love me! Even as I do them! I will not stir an inch! I -remain!" - -Eckhardt breathed hard. He must carry his point; he felt oppressed by -the sense of a great danger. - -"And thus it befalls," he said laughing aloud with the excess of -bitterness, "that to this hour I owe the achievement of knowing the -cause why you have declined the demands of the Electors; that I can bear -to them the answer to their importunities; that in this hour I have -learned the true reason of your refusing to listen to your German -subjects, who crave your return, who love you and your glorious house! -You say you will remain! Revel then in your Eden, until she is weary of -you and Crescentius spares her the pains of the finish." - -"What are you raving?" exclaimed Otto furiously. - -"You are mad for love, King Otto, and a frenzied lover is the worst of -fools!" - -The King blushed, with the consciousness either of his innocence or -guilt. - -"Since you accuse me," he spoke more calmly, but a strange fire burning -in his eyes, "I do not deny it,--Stephania requested a meeting on -matters pertaining to Rome, and I have come! And here," Otto continued, -inflexible determination ringing in his tones--"and here I will await -her, if all hell or the swords of Rome barred the way. Do you hear me, -Eckhardt? Too long have I been the puppet of the Electors. Too long -have I suffered your tyranny. My will is supreme,--and who so defies -it, is a traitor!" - -Eckhardt gazed fixedly into his sovereign's eyes. - -"King Otto! Is it possible that you beguile yourself with these -specious pretexts? That you assail the honour of those who have -followed you hither, who have twice conquered Rome for you? Ay,--no one -so blind as he who will not see! I tell you, Stephania is luring you -into the betrayal of your honour,--perhaps that of the Senator,--who -knows? I tell you she is deceiving you! Or,--if she pretends to love, -it is to betray you! You cannot resist her magic,--it is not in -humanity to do so, were it thrice subdued by years of fasting. If you -repel her now, your victory will be bought with your destruction! Her -undying hatred will mark you her own! But if you succumb you are -lost,--the Virgin herself could not save you! You shall not remain! -You shall not meet her,--not as long as the light of these eyes can -watch over your credulous heart!" - -Otto had advanced a step. Vainly groping for words to vent his wrath, -he paced up and down before the trusted leader of his hosts. - -At last he paused directly before him. - -"My Lord Eckhardt," he said, "it might content you to rake amidst the -slime of the city for matter, with which to asperse a pure and beautiful -woman,--as for myself, while my hand can clutch the hilt of a sword, you -shall not!" he exclaimed, yielding at last to the voice of his fiery -nature. - -"Strike then," Eckhardt replied, raising his arms. "I have no weapon -against my King!" - -Otto pushed the half drawn sword back into the scabbard. - -"For this," he said, "you shall abide a reckoning." - -"Then let it be now!" Eckhardt exclaimed in a wild jeering tone. "Go -and bid Stephania arm her champion, one against whom I may enter the -lists, and I swear to you, that from his false breast I will tear the -truth, which you refuse to accept, coming from your friends! But I am -not in a mood to be trifled with. You shall not remain, King Otto, and -I swear by these spurs, I will rather kill your paramour, than to see -you betrayed to the doom which awaits you." - -"Are life and death so absolutely in the hands of the Margrave of -Meissen?" replied Otto in a towering rage. "In the face of your -defiance I will tarry here and abide my fortune." - -And clutching Eckhardt's mantle, in his wrath, his eye met the eye of -the fearless general. - -With a jerk the latter freed himself from Otto's grasp. - -"A fool in love: A thing that men spurn and women deride." - -Otto's face turned deadly pale. - -"You dare? This to your King?" - -"I dare everything to save you--everything! Otto--the Romans mistrust -you! They love you no longer! They are ripe for a change! The longer -you tarry, the fiercer will be the strife. Crescentius would rather -destroy the whole city than let it be permanently wrested from his -power. You have been his dupe,--hark--do you hear those voices?" - -"Of all my enemies he is the one sincere." - -"Then he were the more dangerous! A fanatic is always more powerful -than a knave. Do you hear these voices, King Otto?" - -Otto was pacing the terrace with feverish impatience. - -"I hear nothing! I hear nothing! Go--and leave me!" - -"And know you sold,--betrayed,--by that--" - -A shadow crossed his path, noiseless on the velvety turf. - -Before them stood Stephania. - -"Finish your words, my Lord Eckhardt," she said facing the Margrave. -"Pray, let not my presence mellow your speech." - -"And it shall not!" retorted Eckhardt hotly. - -"And it shall!" thundered Otto rushing upon him. "Upon your life, -Eckhardt, one insult and--" - -Stephania laid a tranquillizing finger on Otto's arm. - -"I have heard all," she said, pale as marble, but smiling. "And I -forgive." - -"You have heard his accusation--and you forgive, Stephania?" cried Otto, -gazing incredulously into her eyes. - -"You had faith in me--I thank you--Otto!" she replied softly, and -sweeping by Eckhardt, she extended both hands to the King. He grasped -them tightly within his own and, bending over them, pressed his fevered -lips upon them. - -Suddenly all three raised their heads and listened. - -A sound not unlike a distant trumpet blast, rent the stillness of night, -seemed to swell with the echoes from the hills, then died away. - -"What is this?" the German leader questioned, puzzled. - -"The monks are holding processions,--the streets are swarming with the -cassocks,--their chants can be heard everywhere." - -Stephania gazed at Otto, as she answered Eckhardt's question. - -The Margrave scrutinized her intently. - -"I knew not the Senator loved the black crows so well, as to furnish -music to their march," he replied slowly. Then he turned to the woman. - -"Hear me, Stephania! You see me here, but you know not that I have -ordered all my men-at-arms to attend me at the gates below! If the -King's foolish passion and blind trust have been the means to execute -your hellish design, know that with my own hand I will avenge your -remorseless treachery, for I will slay you if aught befall him in this -night, and hang your lord, the Senator of Rome, from the ramparts of -Castel San Angelo,--I swear it by the Five Wounds!" - -For a moment Stephania stood petrified with terror and unable to utter a -single word in response. Then she turned to Otto. - -"This man is mad! Order him begone,--or I will go myself. He frightens -me!" - -She made a movement as if to depart, but Otto, divining her intention, -barred the way. - -"Stephania--remain!" he entreated. "Our general is but prompted by an -over great zeal for our welfare," he concluded, restraining himself with -an effort. Then breathing hard, he extended his arm, and with flaming -eyes spoke to Eckhardt: - -"Go!" - -"I go!" the general replied with heavy heart. "If anything unusual -happens in this night, King Otto, remember my words--remember my -warning. My men are stationed at the wicket, through which you came. -There is no other exit,--save to perdition. I leave you--may the Saints -keep you till we meet again!" - -With these words Eckhardt gathered his mantle about him and stalked -away, leisurely at first, as if to lull to sleep every inkling of -suspicion in Stephania, then faster and faster, and at last he fairly -flew up the winding road of Aventine. Those whom he met shied out of -his path, as if the fiend himself was coming towards them and shaking -their heads in grave wonder and fear, muttered an Ave and told their -beads. - -Strange noises were in the air. The chants of the monks were -intermingled with the fierce howls and shrieks of a mob, harangued by -some demagogue, who fed their discontentment with arguments after their -own heart. Everywhere Eckhardt met skulking countenances, scowling -faces, while half-suppressed oaths fell on his ear. Arrived on the -Aventine he immediately ordered Haco, Captain of the Imperial Guards, to -his presence. - -"Bridle your charger and ride to Tivoli as if ten thousand devils were -on your heels," he said, handing the young officer an order he had -hurriedly and barbarously scratched on a fragment of parchment. "Pass -through the Tiburtine gate and return with sunrise,--life and death -depend upon your speed!" - -Withdrawing immediately, Haco saddled his charger and soon the echoes of -his horse's hoofs died away in the distance, while Eckhardt hurriedly -entered the palace. - -After he had vanished from the labyrinth of the Minotaurus, Otto and -Stephania faced each other for a moment in silence. The Southern night -was very still. The noises from the city had died down. By countless -thousands the stars shone in the deep, fathomless heavens. - -It was Otto who first broke the heavy silence. - -"Stephania," he said, "why are you here to-night?" - -"What a strange question," she replied, "and from you." - -"Yes--from me! From me to you. Is it because--" - -He paused as if oppressed by some great dread. He dared not trust -himself to speak those words in her hearing. - -"Is it because I love you?" she complemented the sentence, drawing him -down beside her. But the seed of doubt Eckhardt had planted in his -heart had taken root. - -"Stephania," he said with a strange voice, without replying directly to -her question. "I have trusted in you and I will continue to trust in -you, even despite the whisperings of the fiend,--until with my own eyes -I behold you faithless. Eckhardt has been with me all day," he continued -with unsteady voice, "he has warned me against you, he has warned me to -place no trust in your words, that you are but the instrument of -Crescentius; that he has organized a mutiny; that he but awaits your -signal for my destruction. He has warned me that you have planned my -seizure and selected this spot, to prevent intervention. Stephania, -answer me--is it so?" - -For a moment the woman gazed at him in dread silence, unable to speak. - -"Did you believe?" she faltered at last with averted gaze, very pale. - -"I am here!" he replied. - -Stephania laughed nervously. - -"I had forgotten!" she stammered. "How good of you!" - -Otto regarded her with silent wonder, not unmingled with fear, for her -countenance betrayed an anxiety he had never read in it before. And -indeed her restlessness and terror seemed to increase with every moment. -She answered Otto's questions evidently without knowing what she said, -and her gaze turned frequently and with a devouring expression of -anxiety and dread toward Castel San Angelo. Maddened and desperate with -her own perfidy, she began to ruminate the most violent extremities, -without perceiving one exit from the labyrinth of guile. The -significance of Otto's question, his earnestness and his faith in -herself put the crown on her misery. Her eyes grew dim and her senses -were failing. Her limbs quaked and for a moment she was unable to speak. -Otto bent over her in positive fear. The pale face looked so deathlike -that his heart quailed at the thought of life,--life without her. - -"I cannot bear it--I cannot bear it," he muttered, holding her hands in -his tight grasp. - -It seemed as if she had read his inmost, unspoken thoughts. - -"And yet it must come at last!" she replied softly, as from the depths -of a dream. "What is this short span of life for such love as ours? -And,--had we even everything we could crave, all the world can -give,--would there not be a sting in each moment of happiness at the -thought--" - -She paused. Her head drooped. - -"My happiness is to be with you," he stammered. "I cannot count the -cost!" - -"Think you that I would count the cost?" she said. "And you love me -despite of all those dreadful things, which he--Eckhardt--has poured -into your ear?" she continued with low, purring voice. - -"Love you--love you!" he repeated wildly. "Oh, I have loved you all my -life, even before I saw you,--are you not the embodied form of all those -vague dreams of beauty, which haunted my earliest childhood? That -beauty, which I sought yearningly, but oh! so vainly in all things, that -breathe the divine essence: the lustrous darkness of night, the glories -of sunset, the subtle perfume of the rose, the all-reflecting ocean of -poetry in which the Universe mirrors itself? In all have I found the -same deep void, which only love can fill. Not love you," he continued -covering both hands he held in his with fevered kisses, "oh, Stephania, -I love you better than myself,--better than all things,--here and -hereafter." - -Almost paralyzed with fear she listened to his mad pleading. - -"And can nothing--nothing,--destroy this love you have for me?" she -faltered. - -He took her yielding form in his arms. He drew her closer and closer to -his heart. - -"Nothing,--nothing,--nothing." - -"I love you--Otto--" she whispered deliriously. - -"To the end, dearest,--to the end!" - -From a tavern at the foot of the hill the sounds of high revelry were -borne up to them. The air was filled with the odour of dead leaves and -dying creation, that subtle premonition of the end to come. - -"And you have anxiously waited my coming?" she said, hiding her face in -his arms. - -"Oh, Stephania! The hour-glass, with which passion measures a lover's -impatience, is a burning torch to his heart." - -Supreme stillness intervened again. - -Stephania raised her head like a deer in covert, listening for the -hunters, listening for the baying of the hounds, coming nearer and -nearer. Gladly at this moment would she have given her life to undo -what she had done. But it was too late. Even this expiation would not -avail! There was nothing now to do, but to nerve herself for that -supreme moment, when all would be severed between them for aye and ever; -when she would stand before him the embodiment of deception; when he -would spurn her as one spurns the reptile, that repays the caressing -hand with its deadly sting; when he would curse her perhaps,--cast from -him for ever the woman who had cut the thread of the life he had laid at -her feet--and all, for what? - -That Johannes Crescentius, the Senator of Rome might again come into his -own, that he might again lord the rabble which now skulked through the -streets to avenge some imaginary wrong on the head of the youth, whose -love for them was to be the pass word for his destruction. - -And Johannes Crescentius was her husband and lord. He loved her with as -great a love as his nature was capable of, and whatever faults might be -laid at the door of his regime, if faults they could even be termed in a -lawless, feudal age, that knew no right save might,--to her he had never -been untrue. - -Stephania endeavoured to persuade herself that, what she had done, she -had done for the good of Rome. Monstrous deception! She despised the -mongrel rabble too heartily to even have raised a finger in its behalf. -If they starved, would Crescentius give them bread? If they -froze--would Crescentius clothe them? Then there remained but the -question, should a Roman govern Rome, or the alien,--the foreigner. Was -it for her to decide? How unworthy the cause of the sacrifice she was -about to bring on the altar of her happiness. But which ever way the -tongue of the scales inclined,--it was too late! - -Otto had buried his head on Stephania's bosom. She had encircled it -with her arms and with gentle fingers that sent a delirium through his -brain, she stroked his soft brown hair, while the cry of Delilah hovered -on her lips. - -He looked up into her eyes. - -"Stephania,--why are you here to-night?" he whispered again, and he felt -the tremor which quivered through her body. - -"I came to bring you the answer which you craved at our last meeting," -she replied softly. "Can you guess it?" - -"Then you have chosen," he gasped, as if he were suddenly confronted -with the crisis in his existence, when that which he held dearest must -either slip away from him for ever or remain his through all eternity. - -"I have chosen!" she whispered, her arms tightening round him, as if she -would protect him against all the world. - -"Kiss me," she moaned. - -One delirious moment their lips met. They remained locked in tight -embrace, lip to lip, heart to heart. - -There was a brief breathless silence. - -Suddenly the great bell of the Capitol rolled in solemn and majestic -sounds upon the air, and was answered from all the belfries of Rome. -But louder than the pealing tocsin, above the wild screaming and -clanging of the bells rose the piercing cry: - -"Death to the Saxon! Death to the King!" - -They both raised their heads and listened. With wild-eyed wonder Otto -gazed into Stephania's eyes. The marble statues around them were hardly -as white as her features. - -"What is this?" he questioned. - -There was a stir in the depths of the streets below. Shouts and jeers -of strident voices were broken by authoritative commands. The tramp of -mailed feet was remotely audible, but above all the hubbub and din rose -the cry: - -"Death to the Saxon! Death to the King!" - -When the first peals of the great bell quivered on the silent night air, -Stephania had, with a low wail, encircled Otto's head with her arms, -pressed him closely to her, as if to shield him from harm. Then, as -louder and wilder the iron tongues shrieked defiance through the air, -as, turning her head, she saw the fatal spear points of the Albanians -gleaming through the thicket, she suddenly shook him off. With a -stifled outcry, she rose to her feet; so abruptly that Otto staggered -and would have fallen, had he not in time caught himself with the aid of -a branch. - -To the King it gave the impression of a wild hideous dream. Like one -dazed, he stared first at the woman, then down the declivity. - -Directly beneath where he stood a scribe was haranguing the crowds, -descanting on the ancient glory of the Romans and exhorting his -listeners to exterminate all foreigners. From Castel San Angelo came an -incessant sound of trumpets, which, mingling with the brazen roar of -bells seemed to shake the earth. Torches lighted the streets with their -smoky crimson glare. People hurried hither and thither, jostling, -pushing, trampling upon each other like black shadows, like living -phantoms. The fiery glow, the voices of the angry mob, the pealing of -the bells,--they all struck Stephania's heart with a thousand talons of -remorse and shame. Fearstruck and trembling, she gazed into the pale -face of Theophano's son. - -Otto was watching the distant pandemonium as one would gaze upon some -strange, hideous ceremonial of occult meaning,--then he turned slowly to -Stephania. - -For a moment they faced each other in silence, then he stroked the -disordered hair from his forehead like one waking from a dream. - -"You have betrayed me." - -Her lips were tightly compressed; she made no reply. - -The next moment he was on his knees before her. - -"Forgive me, forgive me," he faltered, "I knew not what I said!" - -She breathed hard. For a moment she closed her eyes in mortal anguish. - -"Then you still believe in me?" She spoke hardly above a whisper. - -"With all my heart," he replied, grasping her hands and covering them -with kisses. For a moment she suffered him to exhaust his endearments, -then she jerked them away from him. - -"Then bid your hopes and dreams farewell and scatter your faith to the -winds," she shrieked, almost beside herself with the memory of her vow -and its consequences. "You are betrayed,--and I have betrayed you!" - -Otto had staggered to his feet and gazed upon the beautiful apparition -who faced him like some avenging fury, as if he thought that she had -gone suddenly mad. For a moment she paused, as if summoning supreme -energy for the execution of her task, as if to lash herself into a -paroxysm sufficient to make her forget those accusing eyes and his -all-mastering love. - -"I have betrayed you, Kong Otto! I, Stephania, a woman! Ah! You -believed my words! You were vain enough to imagine that the wife of the -Senator of Rome could love you,--you,--her greatest foe, you, the Saxon, -the alien, the intruder, who came here to rob us of our own, to wrest -the sceptre from the rightful lord of the Seven Hills. You hoped -Stephania would aid you to realize your mad dreams! How -unsophisticated, how deliciously innocent is the King of the Germans! -Know then that I have lied to you, when I feigned interest in your -cause, know that I have lied to you when I professed to love you! Love -you," she cried, while her heart was breaking with every word she hurled -against him, who listened to her speech in frozen terror. "Love you! -Fool! And you were mad enough to believe it! Do you hear those bells? -Do you hear the great tocsin from the Capitol? Do you hear the alarums -from the ramparts of Castel San Angelo? They are calling the Romans to -arms! They are summoning the Romans to revolt! Do you hear those -shouts? Death to the Germans? They are for you,--for you,--for you!" - -Again she paused, breathing hard, collecting all her woman's strength to -finish what she had begun. - -The end had come,--her task must be finished. - -Her voice now assumed its natural tones, the more dreadful in their -import, as she spoke in the old deep, soulful accents. - -"I have lulled you to sleep," she continued, breaking the bridge, which -led back into the past, span by span,--"that the Senator of Rome may -once again come into his own! I have pretended interest in your monkish -fancies, that Rome may once more shake off the invader's accursed yoke. -I am a Roman, King Otto,--and I hate you,--hate you with every beat of -my heart, that beats for Rome. King Otto, you are doomed." - -He had listened to her words with wide, wondering eyes, his heart frozen -with terror and anguish, his face pale as that of a corpse, returned -from its grave. He heard voices in the distance and the tread of armed -feet coming nearer and nearer. Yet he stirred not. His tongue clove to -the roof of his mouth. There were strange rushing sounds in his ears, -like mocking echoes of Stephania's words. - -At last his lips moved, while with a desperate effort he tried to shake -off the spell. - -"May God forgive you, Stephania," he gasped like a drowning man, reeled -and caught himself, gazing upon her with delirious, burning eyes. - -Closer and closer came the tramp of mailed feet. - -Terror struck, Stephania gazed into Otto's face. The fiercest -denunciation would not have so completely unnerved her as the simple -words of the youth. She almost succumbed under the weight of her -anguish. - -"Fly,--King Otto,--fly,--save yourself," she gasped, staggering toward -him in the endeavour to shake off the fatal torpor which had seized his -limbs. But he saw her not, he heard not her warning. Listlessly he -gazed into space. - -But had those who rushed down the avenue been his enemies and death his -certain lot, there would not have been time for flight. - -Stephania heaved a sigh of relief as in their leader she recognized the -Margrave of Meissen, followed by a score or more of the Saxon guard. - -Her own fate she never gave a thought. - -"Do you hear those sounds?" thundered the gaunt German leader, rushing -with drawn sword upon the scene and pausing breathlessly before -Stephania's victim. "Do you hear the great bell of the Capitol, King -Otto? All Rome is in revolt! Did I not warn you against the wiles of -the accursed sorceress, who, like a vampire fed on your heart's blood? -But by the Almighty God, she shall not live to enjoy the fruits of her -hellish treason." - -And suiting the action to the word, Eckhardt rushed upon Stephania, who -stood calmly awaiting his onslaught and seemed to invite the stroke -which threatened her life, for her lips curled in haughty disdain and -her gaze met Eckhardt's in lofty scorn. - -The sight of her peril accomplished what Stephania's efforts had failed -to do. Swift as thought Otto had hurled himself between Eckhardt and -his intended victim. - -"Back," he thundered with flaming eyes. "Only over my dead body lies -the way to her!" - -Eckhardt's arm dropped, while a wrathful laugh broke from his lips. - -"You are magnificent, King Otto! Defend the woman who has foully -betrayed you! Be it so! We have no time for argument. Her life is -forfeited and by the Eternal God, Eckhardt never broke his oath. Follow -me! We must reach the Aventine, ere the Roman rabble bar the way. We -are not strong enough to break through their numbers and they swarm like -ants." - -Otto stirred not. - -Calmly he gazed at the Margrave, as if the danger did in no wise concern -him. And while Eckhardt stamped his feet in impotent rage, mingling a -score or more pagan imprecations with the very unchristian oaths he -muttered between his clenched teeth, Otto turned to Stephania. His -voice was calm and passionless as one's who has emerged from a terrible -ordeal and has nothing more to lose, nothing more to fear. - -"What will you do?" he said. "The streets are no safe thoroughfare for -you in this night." - -"I know not,--I care not," she replied with dead voice, from which all -its bewitching tones had faded. - -"Then you must come with us!" he said. "My men shall safely conduct you -to Castel San Angelo. You have the word of their King!" - -"By the flames of purgatory! Are you stark mad, King Otto?" roared -Eckhardt, almost beside himself with rage. "Come with us she shall, but -as hostage for Crescentius,--and eye for eye,--tooth for tooth!" - -He did not finish. Otto waved his hand petulantly. - -"The King of the Germans has pledged his word for Stephania's safe -conduct, and the King of the Germans will be obeyed," he spoke, his -voice the only calm and passionless thing in all the storm and uproar, -which assailed them on all sides. "Through the secret passage lies her -only safety. She cannot go as she came!" - -Eckhardt's eyes fairly blazed with rage. - -"Secret passage!" he roared, nervously gripping the hilt of his enormous -sword. "Secret passage? Are you raving, King Otto? What secret -passage?" - -But vainly did the Margrave endeavour to make his gestures explain his -denial. Otto cared not, if indeed he noted them at all. - -He beckoned to Stephania. - -"Come with us!" he spoke in the same apathetic, listless tone. "Fear -nothing. You have the word of the German King,--he has never broken -it!" - -Whether the terrible reproach implied in his words increased the -stifling anguish in her heart, whether she dared not trust herself to -speak, Stephania silently turned to go. But divining her intent, Otto -caught at her mantle. - -"Now by all the fiends!" shouted Eckhardt, unable longer to restrain -himself, dashing between Stephania and the King and severing the -latter's hold on the woman--"Since your heart is set upon it, I will not -harm the--" - -He paused involuntarily. - -For from Otto's eyes there flashed upon him such a terrible look that -even the old, practiced warrior stepped back abashed. - -"Speak the word and I will slay you with my own hands!" spoke the son of -Theophano, and for a moment subject and king faced each other in the -dread silence with flaming eyes, and faces from which every trace of -colour had faded. - -Eckhardt lowered his weapon. - -His countenance betrayed untold anxiety. - -"You invite certain destruction, King Otto," he remonstrated with -subdued voice. "What matters it, if her countrymen do slay her? One -serpent the less in Rome! Your mercy leads you to perdition,---what -mercy has she shown to you?" - -Otto had relapsed into his former state of apathy. - -"She goes with us," he said like an automaton, that knows but one -speech. "Through the secret passage lies her only safety." - -"She will betray it and you and all of us," growled the German leader, -whose very beard seemed to bristle with wrath at Otto's obstinacy. - -Otto shrugged his shoulders. - -"I have spoken!" - -"Guards, close round!" thundered Eckhardt. "And every dog of a Roman -who approaches upon any pretext whatsoever,--strike him dead without -word or parley!" - -The Saxon spearmen who had guarded the approach to the avenue gathered -hurriedly round them. For at that moment the great bell of the Capitol, -whose tolling had ceased for a time, began its clamour anew and the -shouts of the masses, subdued and hushed during the interval, rose with -increased fury. They drowned the great sob of anguish, which had welled -up from Stephania's heart, but when Otto, his attention distracted for -the nonce by the uproar, turned round, the woman had gone. - -Nor did Eckhardt, inwardly rejoicing over the revelation, grant him one -moment's respite. Surrounded by his trusty Saxon spears, Otto felt -himself hurried along towards the gates of his palace, which they -reached in safety, the insurrection having not yet spread to that -region. - -Vainly had he strained his gaze into the haze of the moonlit night. The -end had come,--Stephania had gone. - -When he reached his chamber, Otto sank senseless on the floor. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *THE STORM OF CASTEL SAN ANGELO* - - -The sun of autumn hung a bloody circle over Rome, but seemed to give -neither light nor warmth. The city itself presented a seething cauldron -of rebellion. The gates had been closed against the advancing Germans -and when, with the first streak of dawn, Haco had arrived under the -Marian hill with the contingents from Tivoli, they found themselves -before a city, which had to be reconquered ere they could even join the -comparatively weak garrison on the Aventine, where Otto was a prisoner -in his own palace. During the night Eckhardt had assayed to reach a -place of concealment on the Tiburtine road, where he awaited the arrival -of his forces, which he had immediately marshalled in their respective -positions. Castel San Angelo rested on an impregnable rock, but -Eckhardt had sworn a terrible oath, that he would scale its walls before -the sun of another day rose behind the Alban hills; and although a rain -of arrows and bolts, so dense and deadly that it threatened to break the -line of the assailants, was poured into the German ranks, it did not -stay their determined advance. - -The first line of assault consisted of heavy-armed foot-soldiers with -round bucklers, short swords and massive battle-axes. Forming in close -phalanx, these men of gigantic size, in hauberks and round helmets, -fixed shield to shield like an iron wall, advanced in dense array to the -charge. They were led on the right wing by the imperial guard, whose -huge statures, fair long hair and gleaming halberds formed a strange -contrast to the lighter arms and the more pliant forms of the defenders -of Castel San Angelo. - -The Roman army, which the Senator had stationed round the base of his -formidable stronghold, could not withstand the shock of this tremendous -phalanx, so far heavier in arms and numbers, and with all their courage -and skill they wavered and broke into flight. Many were precipitated -into the Tiber and drowned miserably within sight of their helpless -comrades; most of them were mowed down by the pursuing German cavalry or -shot by the German archers. - -After the terrible defeat of the Senator's army by the first line of -Eckhardt's battle-array, the squadrons of the second line of battle -spread over the plain, preparatory to the last and final assault. The -vast stronghold of the Senator looked as proud and menacing as ever; -reared upon its almost impenetrable granite-foundation it formed even at -this date one of the most powerful fortresses of Western Europe. Its -huge battlements were defended with a long chain of covered towers, from -which Albanian bowmen shot down every living thing, that approached the -circuit of its walls. Every attempt to scale the lofty stronghold with -ladders had during former sieges been beaten off with fearful loss, -after desperate combats at all hours of day and night. Although he had -twice stormed the walls of Rome, Eckhardt had never succeeded in -capturing the fortress, which he must call his own, who would be master -of the Seven Hills. But the wrath of the Margrave defied every -obstacle, laughed to scorn every impediment which might retard his -vengeance upon the cursed rabble of Rome, those mongrel curs, with whom -rebellion was a pastime and for whom oaths existed but to be broken. -All day long the Germans had hurled themselves against the massive -walls, sustaining terrible losses, while those within the city were -equally severe. All day long they had plied their huge catapults, which -hurled masses of rock and iron into the city and fortress, keeping up an -incessant bombardment. They also used the balista, an immense fixed -cross-bar, which shot bolts with extraordinary force and precision upon -the battlements, whereon nothing living could stand exposed without -certain destruction. - -Seated motionless on his coal-black charger, like some dark spirit of -revenge, plainly visible from the ramparts of Castel San Angelo, -Eckhardt directed the assault of his army at this point, or that, -according as the situation required. Many an arrow and stone struck the -ground close by his side, but he seemed to bear a charmed existence and -never stirred an inch from his chosen vantage ground. Already had a -breach been made in one or two places in the base of the walls, yet had -he not given the order to break into the city, but seemed to watch for -some weak spot in the defences. It was verging towards evening. The -besiegers could hear the cries and the rage of those within the walls, -who dared not remain in the streets during the terrific rain of iron and -stones hurled by the German machines. Despite their strenuous efforts, -Castel San Angelo hurled defiance into the teeth of the Margrave, who -demanded its surrender, and the task of capturing the stronghold, -otherwise than by starving the garrison, seemed to hold out smaller -promise with every moment, as the sun hurried on his western course. -The sky became overcast and the night bade fair to be stormy. - -During the assaults of the day, Eckhardt had many times strained his -gaze towards the road leading to Tivoli, as if he expected some succour -from that direction, when, as the sun was sinking in a crimson haze, a -cloud of dust met the general's gaze and at the same moment a thunderous -shout rose from the imperial hosts. Drawn by twelve oxen, there -appeared at the edge of the plain a new engine of assault, which -Eckhardt had ordered constructed, anticipating an emergency, such as the -present. It had remained with the host in Tivoli, and despite the -comparatively short distance, it had required almost twenty-four hours -to draw it over the sloping ground to Rome. It was a tower of three -stages, constructed of massive beams, protected by frames and hides and -crowned with a stout roof. It was now being rolled forward on broad -heavy wheels to afford means of scaling the walls. As it slowly -approached the ramparts of Castel San Angelo, the assault of the -Germans, renewed on the whole line of the walls with redoubled fury, -presented a terrific sight. The catapults and balistae were pouring -stones, bolts and arrows on the defenders; the whizzing of the missiles, -the shouts of the assailants, answered by furious yells from the walls, -the roar of the flames, as here and there a house near the city walls -caught fire from burning pitch, made a truly infernal din. - -"The turret is within twenty feet of the walls,--on a level with the -ramparts,--fifteen,--ten feet,---down with the scaling bridge!" shouted -Haco, who was standing by the side of Eckhardt. Crashing, the gang-way -went from the front of the pent house. But as he spoke, the soft earth, -whereon the turret stood, gave way. The gang-way fell short, the turret -toppled and split. The besieged hurled on it bolts, rocks, boiling -pitch and fire balls, and presently it collapsed with a sudden crash and -fell in a heap, mangling and burying the men inside it and beneath it, -and at once it blazed up, a mass of burning timber. - -"It is, as I feared," said Eckhardt. "No turret lofty enough to overtop -these walls can be brought up to work on ground like this. We must -resort to the catapults! Let all be brought into action at once!" - -The destruction of the great, movable turret, on the success of which -such hopes and fears had been placed, caused the ranks of assailants and -defenders to pause for a space, while both were watching the spectacle -of the blazing pile. A lull ensued in the storm of battle, during which -Eckhardt, while he seemed to direct his men towards a certain point near -the walls, never released his gaze from Castel San Angelo. Then he gave -a whispered order to Haco, who set off at once on its execution. An -appalling crash rent the sky, as the German machines began their -simultaneous attack on the walls of Rome, while a storming-column, -forming under their protection, rushed forth towards the gates of the -city. The strain on the mind of Eckhardt, who alone knew the intense -crisis of that moment, was almost unbearable. He must succeed this very -night; for on the morrow the peremptory order of the Electors would -recall his forces beyond the Alps. There would be no respite; there -could be no resistance. His only salvation lay in their undaunted -courage and their ignorance of the impending decree. - -The evening grew more and more sultry. - -At intervals a gust came flying, raising the white dust and rustling in -the dying leaves. It passed by, leaving the stillness on the Aventine -more still than before. Nothing was to be heard, save the dull, -seemingly subterranean growls of thunder, and against this low -threatening and sullen roar the pounding of Eckhardt's catapults against -the walls. At times a flash broke across the clouds; then all stood out -sharp and clear against the increasing darkness. Only the watchfires of -Castel San Angelo were reflected in the sluggish tide of the Tiber, from -which rose noisome odours of backwater, rotting fern leaves and decaying -wood. - -The Piazza of St. Peter meanwhile presented a singular spectacle, -congested as it was with a multitude, which, in the glare of the -lightning, resembled one waving mass of heads,--a cornfield before it -has been swept by a tornado. It was an infuriated mob, which listened -to the harangue of Benilo, interrupting the same ever and ever with the -hysterical shout: "Death to the Saxon! Death to the Emperor!" - -"Blood of St. John!" exclaimed an individual in the coarse brown garb of -a smith, "Why do we bellow here? Let us to the Aventine--to the -Aventine!" - -His eye met that of Il Gobbo the grave-digger. He pounced upon him like -an eagle on his prey, shaking him by the shoulder. - -"Gobbo! Dog! Assassin! Art deaf to good news! I tell thee, there is -strife in the city,--some new sedition! It may be that our friends have -conquered--down with the tyrant and oppressor! Down with the Saxon! -Down with everything!" - -And he laughed--a hoarse, mad laughter. - -"We Romans shall yet be free,--think of it, thou villain,--a thousand -curses on thee!" - -The artisan had correctly interpreted the temper of the Romans, when he -raised his shout: To the Aventine! To the Aventine! - -"Romans! We give our enemies red war! War to the knife!" screamed the -speaker at the conclusion of his harangue. - -"Death to the Saxons! Death to the King!" came the answering yell. - -In the midst of all this some partisan of the King ventured to reason -with the mob. It was impossible to distinguish in the ensuing mêlée, -but in the distance a man was being tossed and torn by the mob. For a -moment his white face rose above the sea of heads, with all the despair -which a drowning man shows, when it rises for the last time above the -waves, then it sank back and something mangled and shapeless was flung -out into the great Piazza, where it lay still. - -"To the Aventine! To the Aventine!" shouted the mob, and armed with all -sorts of rude weapons they trooped off, brandishing their clubs and -staves and shouting confused maledictions. - -Count Ludeger of the Palatinate, to whom Eckhardt had entrusted the -King's safety, had made sure that all approaches were locked and barred, -while he had disposed his spearmen and archers in such a manner as to -make it appear, in the case of assault, that he commanded a much -superior number, than were actually at his disposal. - -The warlike Count Palatine, who, aroused on an alarm, had instantly -equipped himself with casque and sword, stood listening to what was -passing outside, sniffing the air and rolling his eyes as if he desired -nothing better than a conflict. Arranging his archers round the barred -gate, with the order to hold their bows in readiness, he descended to -the entrance which was surrounded by a howling mob, who demanded -admittance or, if denied, declared they would enter by force. After -having surveyed the assailants through a wicket, and having convinced -himself that they were of the baser class, he demanded to speak with the -leader of the mob. A surly individual, armed with a club, came boldly -forward and demanded to see the King. - -"For what purpose?" asked the Count Palatine. - -"That is,--as we choose!" replied the ruffian. - -By this time the archers had mounted the roof of the palace, while Count -Ludeger stood in the foreground. To him the routing of such a rabble -seemed a task not worth speaking of, and it was not his intention to -parley. He dared not open the gates until he was prepared to act, -therefore mounting a balcony in the upper story of the palace, which -looked over the entrance, he stood fully visible from where the invaders -stood, whose numbers swelled with every moment. Then advancing to the -parapet, he made a signal, demanding silence, and spoke in a voice -audible to every ear in the throng: - -"Dogs! You came hither thinking the palace was defenceless. You wish to -see the King. Off! Away with your foul odours and your yelping -throats! And if when you have turned tail, any cur among you dares bark -back, he shall pay for it with an arrow through his chine! Away with -you!" - -The crowd seemed to waver and to look for their leader, but the Count -Palatine gave them little time. Raising his hand he waved a signal to -the archers. The low growling and snarling of the mob swelled to a yell -of terror, as three score or more of their number fell under the hail of -arrows. At the same moment the gate of the palace was thrown open and -the guards charged the Roman mob with drawn swords, mowing down all that -were in their path. Back fell the first rank of the rioters, pressing -against those in the rear, and with an outcry of terror the crowd -scattered in flight. - -From the balcony of his palace, Otto had witnessed the scene which had -just come to a close. He saw hatred and vengeance around him in the -eyes of the populace. He knew himself to be hated, deserted, betrayed, -most unjustly, most cruelly, despite all he had done for the state and -the people. After the mob had departed, he retreated to his chamber. -Here his strength seemed utterly to forsake him. Calling his -attendants, they took from him his cloak, his diadem, and his sword of -state, they unlaced the imperial buskins and gilt mail, in which he was -encased. He seemed eager to fling from him his gilded trappings, while -his attendants watched him in perplexity and fear. He spoke not, nor -gave any sign. - -At length Count Ludeger, presuming on his high office, broke the -silence. - -"By the Mother of God, we pray you, shake off this grief and take heed -of the manifold perils which surround your throne and life. You are -surrounded with traitors, intrigues and plots! And the one--once -nearest to your heart is your greatest foe!" - -Otto raised his head and glared at the speaker like a lion at bay, but -spoke not, and again covered his face and sank upon the couch. - -The storm clouds gathering over Rome were scarce as dark as those on -Count Ludeger's brow. For a time intense silence prevailed. At last, -carried away by Otto's mute despair, the Curopalates ventured to -approach the King and whispered a word in his ear. - -Otto looked up, pale, staring. - -Count Ludeger advanced and knelt before the emperor. - -"My liege--what shall I say to the Electors?" - -There was a breathless silence. - -Then Otto raised himself erect on his couch. - -"Say to them,--that I will die in Rome--in Rome--" - -He checked himself and looked round. - -"Leave me! Begone all of you!" he said. "Set double guards at the -doors of this chamber and admit no one on pain of death.--I choose to be -alone to-night!" - -"And may not I even share my sovereign's solitude?" questioned Benilo -with a look of feigned concern in his eyes. - -"I wish to be alone!" Otto replied, then he beckoned Count Ludeger to -his side. After all had departed, the King turned to the Count -Palatine. - -"Can we hold out?" - -The Count's visage reflected deep gloom. - -"All Rome is in the throes of revolt! All day Eckhardt has been -pounding the walls of Castel San Angelo--to no avail!" - -"He will storm the traitor's lair," Otto replied, "but then?" he -questioned as one dream-lost. - -Ludeger pointed to Northward. With a deep moan Otto's head drooped and -the scalding tears streamed down between his fingers. -Betrayed--betrayed! Not by Crescentius, his natural, his hereditary -foe, but by the woman whom he had loved, whom he had worshipped, whom he -still loved above all else on earth. What was the possession of Rome, -the rule of the universe, to him without her? He could picture to -himself no happiness away from her. - -When Otto looked up, Count Ludeger was gone. - -For a time there was stillness, deep, intense. - -A dazzling flash of light, succeeded by a deafening peal of thunder, -that was like the wrath of a mighty God,--then came darkness, the -howling of the storm, the sobbing of bells tossed and broken by the -hurricane, into a wraith of dirge,--and now, as by some fantastic freak -of nature, as the wind rose higher and higher, the iron tongue of the -bell from the Capitol came wrangling and discordant through the air, as -if tortured by some demon of despair. But the howlings and the tempest -and the roar of the thunder had a third, most terrible ally to make that -night memorable in Rome. It was the wrath of Eckhardt, the Margrave, as -he marshalled his hosts to the assault. Terror-stricken the cowardly -Romans scattered before the iron avalanches that swept down upon them. -The scythe of the enraged mower made wide gaps in their lists and the -dead and dying strewed the field in every direction. Little did -Eckhardt care how many he mangled and maimed under the hoofs of his -iron-shod charger. Had all Rome been but one huge funeral pyre, he -would have exulted. Rome had not been kind to him and the hour of -vengeance was at hand at last! - -The broken clangour of the bells of Rome, the bellowing of the thunder -through the valleys, the howling of the storm--and the shouts of the -storming files of his Germans struck Otto's ear in fitful pauses. - -For this then he had journeyed to Rome! This was to be the end of the -dream!--The man he had trusted was a traitor! The woman whose kisses -still burnt upon his lips had sold, betrayed him. The candle sank lower -and the shadows deepened; but the tempest howled like a legion of demons -over the seven-hilled city of Rome. - -What caused him to raise his head after a period of brooding, Otto knew -not, nor why the opposite wall with its drear flitting shadows held his -gaze spellbound. To his utter discomfiture and amazement he saw the -Venus panel noiselessly open, a shadow glided into the chamber and the -panel closed behind it. - -Ere Otto could utter a word, Stephania stood before him. - -He rose and receded before her, as one would before a spectre. -Hungrily, madly his eyes gazed into her pale face, despairingly. A -strange fire was alight in her orbs, as once more she stood face to face -with the youth, whose soul she had absorbed as the vampire the soul of -his victim. - -With fingers tightly interlaced she stood before him, then, as he would -not speak, she said with a strange smile: - -"You see,--I have come back." - -He made no reply, but receded from her as some evil spirit to the -farthest nook of the chamber. - -For a time she seemed at a loss how to proceed; when she spoke again, -there was a strange, jarring tone in her voice. - -"Fear nothing!" she said, a great sadness vibrating in her speech. "I -came not hither to renew old scenes. What has been is past for ever! -Strange, that I had to come into your life, King Otto, or that you had -to cross the line of mine,--who is to blame? You have once told me that -you believe in a Force, called Fate. You have convinced me now,--even -if my own suffering had not." - -"How came you here?" Otto spoke, hardly above a whisper. - -Stephania pointed below. - -"Through the secret passage!" - -Otto started. - -"Mother of Christ!" he exclaimed. "Had they seen you they would have -killed you." - -A smile of disdain curved her lips. - -"I should have welcomed the release." - -"But what do you want here--and at this hour?" - -"Your Saxons are storming Castel San Angelo. By a feigned attack they -lured its defenders to a part of the ramparts, where no real danger -threatened, but to scale the walls on their rear. Send a messenger to -Eckhardt to desist. Crescentius is ready to treat for honourable -terms." - -If there was indeed truth in her words, the message was lost on him, to -whom it was conveyed. His heart was dead to the voice of gladness, as -it was dead to any added pang of misery. - -"Thrice the Senator of Rome has broken his word! His fate lies with -himself!" he replied with a shrug. - -Stephania's pallor deepened. - -She stared at Otto out of large fear-struck eyes. - -"You would not give him over to your Saxons?" she spoke impulsively. - -"They will take him without that!" - -"Castel San Angelo has never been taken,--it shall never be taken! King -Otto! Think how many of your best soldiers will be crushed and mangled -in the assault,--be merciful!" - -"Has Crescentius been merciful to me? I came not hither to deprive him -of his own.--I have not struck at the root of his life.--He has taken -from me the faith in all that is human and divine,--and through you! A -noble game you have played for my soul! You have won, Stephania! But -the blood of Crescentius be on his own head!" - -There was a lull in the uproar of the elements without; but new banks of -threatening clouds were hurrying from the West, gathering like armies of -vengeful spirits over the Seven-Hilled City, and shutting off every -breath of air. - -An oppression throbbing with nameless fears was upon them,--a hush, as -if life had ceased. - -Stephania, urged by a strange dread, had stepped to the high oval window -whence a view of Castel San Angelo was to be obtained. And as she gazed -out into the night with wildly throbbing heart, she grew faint and -wide-eyed for terror. A dull roar, like muffled thunder, ceaselessly -recurring, the terrible shouts of Eckhardt's Saxons reached her ear. - -Would the walls withstand their assault, ere she returned, or would the -defenders yield under the terrible hail of iron and leave the Senator of -Rome to his doom? Like knells of destiny boom upon boom resounded -through the wail of the rising gale. - -She pressed her hands despairingly against her temples, as if to calm -their tempestuous throbbing, and her lips muttered a prayer, while -broken voices came through the storm,-- fragments of a chant from -near-by cloisters: - -"Ave Maria--Gratia Plena--Summa parens clementiae--Nocte surgentes--" - -Otto had tiptoed to the doors of the chamber and after carefully -listening had locked them. The order he had given to admit no one would -secure for him a few moments of immunity from interruption from without. -Supporting himself against a casement he endeavoured to master the awful -agony, which upheaved his soul at the sight of the woman who had played -with his holiest affections; he tried to speak once, twice, but his -tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. He thought he would choke. - -The brazen blast of a trumpet from the battlements of Castel San Angelo -caused him to approach and to step behind Stephania. In the now almost -continuous glare of the lightning troops could be seen moving slowly -along the walls and base of the fortress. The air pealed with -acclamations. A thousand arrows from Frisian bowmen swept the defenders -from the walls. The battlements were left naked; ladders were raised, -ropes were slung, axes were brandished; of every crevice and projection -of the wall the assailants availed themselves; they climbed on each -other's shoulders, they leaped from point to point; torches without -number were now showered on every thing that was combustible. At length -a stockade near the central defence took fire. - -They fought no longer in darkness. The flames rolled sheet on sheet -upon their heads, mingling their glare with that of the blazing horizon. -But the issue was no longer doubtful. Castel San Angelo was doomed. No -longer it vindicated its claim to being impregnable. The defenders, -reduced in number, exhausted by the ever and ever renewed and desperate -attacks, staring in the face of certain defeat, were becoming visibly -disheartened. - -Spellbound, both viewed the spectacle, which unfolded itself to their -awe-struck gaze. But there was no flush of victory in Otto's face, no -gladness in his eyes as, sick at the sight, he turned away. His eyes -returned to the woman whose half-averted face shone out in the glow of -the conflagration. Never had it seemed to him so mystic, so unearthly, -so fair. - -The storm was drawing nearer; the thunder bellowed louder through the -heavens, the lightning flashes grew ever brighter; the great bell from -the Capitol, the lesser bells of Rome, still shrieked forth their -insistent clamour on the sultry air. - -She silently drew near him, fixing him with her wondrous eyes. - -At that moment the lightning rent the clouds and flashed on her pale -face. A peal of thunder, now quite overhead, shook earth and sky, -rolling through the air in majestic reverberations. Slowly it died away -into the great silence, now again rent and broken by the German -catapults, by the renewed shouts of the defenders and assailants. Up to -this moment Stephania had still hoped that Castel San Angelo would defy -the united assaults of the storming Saxons; suddenly, however, a shriek -broke from her lips, she turned away from the window and hid her face in -her hands. Then she rushed to where Otto was witnessing the progress of -the assault and fell on her knees before him. - -"Save him!" she moaned, raising her white clasped hands in despairing -entreaty. "Save him! Save him!" - -He raised her and, looking into her face, he read therein remorse and -helpless entreaty. He knew that the moment was irrevocable for both, -final and solemn as death. He felt he must break the pregnant silence, -yet no word came to his lips. The more he forced his will, to find a -solution, the more conscious he became of his own powerlessness and the -depth of the abyss which must divide them for ever more. - -"Save him, Otto--save him!" she moaned, stretching out her arms towards -him,--"You alone can--you alone." - -He receded from her. - -"I could not save him, even if I would!" - -But the woman became frantic in her fear. - -The consciousness of the terrible wrong which Crescentius had suffered -at her hands, though the most subtle scrutiny of her heart failed to -accuse her of a deed, unworthy herself, the unwitting instrument of -Fate, added to her despair. She must save the Senator of Rome, even if -she should herself pay the penalty of the crime of high treason, of -which he stood accused. - -"You will not have it said that you crushed your foe under your heels," -she cried. "You are too kind, too generous,--Otto! The Senator's -resistance is broken. He could not rise a fourth time, if he would--you -have conquered. Otto,--for my sake,--by the memory of the past--" - -He raised his arms. Now he was himself. - -"Stop!" he said. "Why conjure up that memory which you have so cruelly -poisoned and defiled? There was nothing,--even to life itself,--that I -would not have given to you in exchange for your love--" - -"But that it was not mine to give!" she moaned. "Can you not see?" - -"You should have remembered that, ere you slowly but surely wove your -net of deception round my heart. I loved you! Foe of mine, as I knew -you to be, I trusted you! See, how you have requited this trust! See, -what you have made of me! You but entered my life to wreck it! Once I -loved the hours and the days and the nights and the stars, now my heart -is a burnt-out volcano. And you who have taken all my life from me, now -come to me crying for mercy for him, who showed such wondrous mercy for -me! And you too--you! Did no pity ever enter your heart, when you saw -that you were mercilessly chaining my life to despair? And after you -revealed yourself his instrument,--Stephania, are you so mad as to -think, that I would save the man who insidiously wrecked my life?" - -Almost frozen with horror Stephania had listened to the voice she loved -so well. The card she had played, the appeal to his generous nature, -had lost. She might have foreseen it. But her wondrous beauty still -exercised its fatal spell. The moments were flying. She must save -Crescentius from Eckhardt's wrath. - -"You once told me that you loved me," she spoke with choked, dry throat. -"You accuse me of having deceived you--ah! how little versed you are in -reading a woman's heart!" - -And approaching him as of old, she took his hands into hers. - -"What do you mean?" Otto replied, while her touch sent the hot blood -hurtling through his veins. "Some new conceit, to gain your end?" - -She shook her head, while she gazed despairingly toward the Senator's -last defence. - -"This is not the time," she gasped. "On every moment hangs a life! -Otto, save him! Save him for my sake! Can you not see that I love you? -Think you, else I should be here? Can you not see that this is my last -atonement? Oh, do not let me be guilty of this too! Save him,--save -him, ere it is too late!" she moaned, kneeling without releasing his -hands, on which she rested her head. "Save him,--save him, King -Otto--or his blood be on your head!" - -"On my head? On my head?" exclaimed Otto. "Heaven that has witnessed -your unfathomable treachery can never ratify this invocation! Never! -Never!" - -She glanced up despairingly. - -"Otto--he knows all! All! I saw it in his looks--though he never -spoke.--He knows--that--I love you!" - -"Then you do love me?" Otto replied with large wondering eyes. - -"Ask your own heart,--it will answer for mine!" - -"Then if you love me,--be mine,--my wife,--my queen!" - -"How can I answer you at this moment, how can I? Look yonder,--the -stockades are afire,--your Saxons are scaling the walls,---Otto,--will -you have it said that you killed him to possess me?" - -He snatched his hands away from her. - -"But how can I save him, Stephania?--Collect your woman's wit! How can -I?" - -"Oh, how they swarm on the parapets!" she moaned. "Mercy, King -Otto,--ere it be too late!" - -"Let not the King know the mercy in Otto's heart," he replied between -irresolution and resentment. "But how can I reach Eckhardt? And think -you my messenger would move him? Think you, he would listen to me?" - -"You are the sovereign! The King! Have you none that you can send, -that you can trust? None, fleet of foot and discreet?" - -Otto pondered. - -Stephania's gaze was riveted on his face, as the eye of the criminal -about to be condemned, hangs on the countenance of his judge, who speaks -the sentence. At this moment loud shouts came through the storm. The -Germans were hoisting new ladders for the assault. In the glare of the -conflagration and the incessant lightning they could be discerned -swarming like ants. - -Castel San Angelo appeared doomed indeed. - -Otto pushed Stephania into a recess, then he made one bound towards the -door. In the anteroom sat Benilo, the Chamberlain. His usually placid -countenance seemed in the throes of a tremendous strain. Which way -would the scales sink in the balance? A straw might turn the tide of -Fate. Benilo waited. He held the last card in the great game. He would -only play it at the last moment. - -As Otto appeared on the threshold, he glanced up, then arose hurriedly. - -"Victory is crowning your arms, King Otto!" he fawned, pointing in the -region of the assault. "Soon your hereditary foe will be a myth--a--" - -Otto waved his hand impatiently. - -"Hasten to Castel San Angelo,--take the secret passage!--You may yet -arrive in time to place this order in Eckhardt's hands!--Hurry--on every -moment hangs a life." - -"A life," gasped the Chamberlain. "Whose life?" - -"The Senator's!" - -"Ah! It is the order for his execution!" Benilo extended his hand, to -receive the scroll, while a strange fire gleamed in his eyes. He had -waited wisely. - -"It is the order for Eckhardt,--to spare him! Hasten! Lose not a -moment! Through the secret passage!" - -Benilo stared in Otto's face as if he thought he had gone mad. - -"Spare Crescentius? Your enemy? Spare the viper, that has thrice stung -you with its poison fang?" - -"I implore you by our friendship,--go!--I will explain all to you at a -fitter hour;--now there is not time." - -"Spare Crescentius!" Benilo repeated as if he were still unable to grasp -the meaning. - -"The Senator's men will lay no impediment in your way,--and to my -Germans you are known.--You will,--you must--arrive in time--I pray you -hasten--be gone--" - -A sudden light of understanding seemed to flash athwart Benilo's pale -features. Through the open door he had seen a woman's gown. - -Snatching up his skull-cap, he placed the order intrusted to him inside -his doublet. - -"I hasten," he spoke. "Not a moment shall be lost!" - -And rushing out of the chamber, he disappeared. - -Stephania had listened in awestruck wonder. What was the friend of the -Senator, the man who had counselled the uprising, doing in the imperial -ante-chamber at this hour? But,--perchance this was but another mesh in -the great web of intrigue, which the Romans had spun round their -unsuspecting foes. Perhaps,--she trembled, as she thought out the -thought,--he was to seize the King, if Crescentius was victorious. He -had never left the youth.--Had the Chamberlain become his sovereign's -jailer? The ideas rushed confusedly through her brain, where but the -one faint hope still glimmered, that Crescentius would escape his doom. - -When Otto entered, she held out both hands to him. - -"How can I thank you!" - -He warded them off, and stepped to the window, whence the progress of -the assault could be watched in the intermittent flashes of lightning. -The raging storm had temporarily drowned the signals and cries of the -combatants, but though the clouds hung low and heavily freighted over -the city, not a drop of rain fell. The lightning became more incessant; -soon it seemed as if the entire horizon was ablaze and the thunder -bellowed in one continuous roar over the Seven Hills. - -Stephania had stepped to Otto's side. - -"I must go," she said with indescribable mournfulness in her tones. "My -place is by his side! Living--or dead! Farewell, King Otto, and -forgive--if you can!" - -She stretched out her hands towards him. It seemed to him, as if a dark -veil was suddenly drawn before his eyes. Despite the lightning there was -nothing but a great darkness around him. His victory would cause a -wider, more abysmal gulf between them than his defeat. - -If she went from him in this hour, he knew they would never meet on -earth again. - -At her words he turned and vainly endeavouring to steady his voice, he -spoke. - -"Stephania,--I cannot let you go! Remain here, until the worst is over! -It would mean certain death to you, if my men discovered you,--and -perhaps you would hardly escape a similar fate at the hands of your own -countrymen." - -She shook her head. - -"My place is by his side,--no matter what befall! If I am -killed,--never was death more welcome! Farewell, Otto--farewell--" - -Her voice broke. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed -piteously. - -He drew them down with gentle force. - -"It is not my purpose to detain you here! All I ask of you, is to wait, -until my order has had time to reach Eckhardt. After the Senator has -yielded,--you may go to him,--I will then myself have you escorted to -Castel San Angelo. For the sake of the past,--wait!" - -"The past! The past! That can never, never be revived!" she moaned. -"Oh, that I were dead, that I were dead!" - -He took her in his arms. - -"My love,--my own,--I cannot hear you speak thus--take courage! I have -long forgiven you!" - -Her head rested on his shoulders. For a moment they seemed to have -forgotten the world and all around them. - -Suddenly the rush of mailed feet resounded in the ante-room. The door of -the chamber was unceremoniously thrust open and Haco, captain of the -imperial guard, entered the apartment, recoiling almost as quickly as he -had done so, at the unexpected sight which met his gaze. - -"How dare you?" Otto accosted him with flaming eyes, while Stephania had -retreated into the shadows, covering her face, which was pale as death, -with her hands. - -Eckhardt's envoy prostrated himself before the King. - -"I crave the King's pardon--it was my Lord Eckhardt's command to carry -straight and unannounced the tidings to the King's ear--your hosts have -stormed Castel San Angelo! Your enemy is no more!" - -"Rise!" thundered Otto, while Stephania had rushed with a pitiful moan -of anguish from her retreat, and was gazing at the messenger, as if life -and death sat on his lips. "What do you mean?" - -But ere the man could answer, a terrible shriek by his side caused Otto -to start. Stephania had rushed to the window. Following the direction -of her gaze, his heart sank within him with the weight of his own -despair. - -A body was seen swinging from the ramparts,--it needed neither -soothsayer nor prophet to explain what had befallen. - -Eckhardt had kept his oath. - -"When the imperial Chamberlain told him that you were here with the -King," Haco addressed the woman, who stared with wide-eyed despair from -one to the other, "Crescentius charged in person the invading hosts. -Struck down twice, he staggered again to his feet, fighting like a -madman in the face of certain death and against fearful odds. When he -fell the third time, Eckhardt ordered him suspended from the -battlements--to save him the trouble of rising again!" the captain -concluded in grim humour. - -"What of my pardon for the Senator?" gasped Otto. - -"I know of no pardon," replied Haco. - -"The pardon of which Benilo was the bearer," Otto repeated. - -Haco stared at the King, as if he thought him demented. - -"It was the order for the Senator's execution, which the Chamberlain -placed in Eckhardt's hand," he replied, "to take place immediately upon -his capture." - -"Ah! This is your work then!" Stephania broke the terrible silence, -which hung over them like suspended destinies,--creeping towards Otto -and pointing to the ramparts of Castel San Angelo, on which the imperial -standard was being hoisted. "This you have done to me!--You have lied -to me, detaining me here when I should have been with him,--whose dying -hour I have filled with a despair that all eternity cannot -alleviate,--let me go--I tell you, let me go! Fiend! traitor,--let me -go!" - -She fought him in wild despair. - -Otto had barred her way. Releasing her, he looked straight into her -eyes. - -"Your own heart tells you, Stephania, this is the work of a -traitor,--not mine!" - -She gazed at him one moment. She knew his words to be true. But she -would not listen to the voice of reason, when her conscience doubly -smote her. - -"Let me go!" she shrieked. "Let me go! My place is by the side of him -you have foully slain,--murdered--after luring me away from him in his -dying hour." - -"You know not what you say, Stephania. Your grief has maddened you! Is -not the word of the King assurance enough, that he himself is the victim -of some as yet unfathomable deceit? By the memory of my mother I swear -to you--I never wrote that order! Remain here until I hear from -Eckhardt,--your safety--" - -"Who tells you that I wish to be saved?" she cried like a lioness at -bay. "Remain here with you, whose hands are stained with his blood? -Not another moment! You have no claim on Stephania! A crimson gulf has -swallowed up the past and his shade divides us in death as it has -divided us in life! You shall never boast that you have conquered the -wife of the Senator of Rome!" - -"Stephania." - -He raised his arms entreatingly. - -She sprang at him to gain the entrance to the Venus panel, which he -covered with his person. For a moment he held her at bay, then she -pushed him aside, rushed past him and disappeared in the dark passage, -the door of which closed behind her with a sharp clang. She vanished in -the subterranean gloom. - -Haco had silently witnessed the scene. - -Otto seemed to have forgotten his presence, when turning he found -himself face to face with the trusty Saxon. - -"Did you say--execution?" he addressed the man, his brain whirling. - -"Signed by the King!" came the laconic reply. - -"You may go! Bid Eckhardt repair hither at the earliest!" - -Haco departed. Broken in mind and spirit Otto remained alone. Victory -had crowned his cause,--but Death reigned in his heart. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *THE FORFEIT* - - -Crescentius was dead. Stephania's fate was left to the surmise of the -victors. Since she had parted from Otto in that eventful night, no one -had seen the beautiful wife of the luckless Lord of Castel San Angelo. -Eckhardt was gloomier than ever. The storm of the ancient mausoleum had -been accomplished with a terrible loss to the victors. The Romans, awed -for a time into submission, showed ever new symptoms of dissatisfaction, -and it was evident that in the event of a new outbreak, the small band -constituting the emperor's bodyguard would not be able to hold out -against the enmity of the conquered. The monkish processions continued -day and night, and as the Millennium drew nearer and nearer the frenzied -fervour of the masses rose to fever height. Fear and apprehension -increased with the impending hour, the hour that should witness the End -of Time and the final judgment of God. Since the storm of Castel San -Angelo, Otto had locked himself in his chamber in the palace on the -Aventine. No one save Benilo, Eckhardt and Sylvester, the silver-haired -pontiff, had access to his person. Benilo had so far succeeded in -purging himself from the stain of treason, which clung to him since the -summary execution of Crescentius, that he had been entirely restored -into Otto's confidence and favour. It was not difficult for one, gifted -with his consummate art of dissimulation, to convince Otto, that in the -heat of combat, the passions inflamed to fever-heat, his general had -mistaken the order; and Eckhardt, when questioned thereon, exhibited -such unequivocal disgust, even to the point of flatly refusing to -discuss the matter, that Benilo appeared in a manner justified, the more -so, as the order itself could not be produced against him, Eckhardt -having cast it into the flames. His vengeance had not however been -satisfied with the death of Crescentius alone, for on the morning after -the capture of the fortress, eleven bodies were to be seen swinging from -the gibbets on Monte Malo, the carcasses of those who in a fatal hour -had pledged themselves to the Senator's support. - -So far the Chamberlain's victory seemed complete. - -Crescentius and the barons inimical to his schemes were destroyed. -There now remained but Otto and Eckhardt, and a handful of Saxons; for -the main body of the army had marched Northward with Count Ludeger of -the Palatinate, who had exhausted every effort to induce Otto to follow -him. Had Crescentius beaten off Eckhardt's assault, Benilo would in -that fatal night have consigned his imperial friend to the dungeons of -Castel San Angelo. For this he had assiduously watched in the -ante-chamber. At a signal a chosen body of men stationed in the gardens -below were to seize the German King and hurry him through the secret -passage to Hadrian's tomb. - -There now remained but one problem to deal with. With the removal of -the last impediment, arrived on the last stepping stone to the -realization of his ambition, Benilo could offer Theodora what in the -delirium of anticipated possession he had promised, with no intention of -fulfilling. He had not then reckoned with the woman's terrible temper, -he had not reckoned with the blood of Marozia. She had by stages roused -her discarded lover's jealousy to a delirium, which had vented itself in -the mad wager, which he must win--or perish. - -But one day remained until the full of the moon, but one day within -which Theodora might make good her boast. Benilo, who had her carefully -watched, knew that Eckhardt had not revisited the groves, he had even -reason to believe that Theodora had abandoned every effort to that end. -Was she at last convinced of the futility of her endeavour? Or had she -some other scheme in mind, which she kept carefully concealed? The -Chamberlain felt ill at ease. - -As for Eckhardt, he should never leave the groves a living man. Victor -or vanquished, he was doomed. Then Otto was at his mercy. He would -deal with the youth according to the dictates of the hour. - -When Benilo had on that morning parted from Otto in the peristyle of the -"Golden House" on the Aventine, he knew that sombre exultation, which -follows upon triumph in evil. Hesitancies were now at an end. No longer -could he be distracted between two desires. In his eye, at the memory -of the woman, for whom he had damned himself, there glowed the fire of a -fiendish joy. Not without inner detriment had Benilo accustomed himself -for years to wear a double face. Even had his purposes been pure, the -habit of assiduous perfidy, of elaborate falsehood, could not leave his -countenance untainted. A traitor for his own ends, he found himself -moving in no unfamiliar element, and all his energies now centred -themselves upon the achievement of his crime, to him a crime no longer -from the instant that he had irresistibly willed it. - -On fire to his finger-tips, he could yet reason with the coldest clarity -of thought. Having betrayed his imperial friend so far, he must needs -betray him to the extremity of traitorhood. He must lead Eckhardt on to -the fatal brink, then deliver the decisive blow which should destroy -both. But a blacker thought than any he had yet nurtured began to stir -in his mind, raising its head like a viper. Could he but discover -Stephania! Then indeed his triumph would be complete! - -On that point alone Otto had maintained a silence as of the grave even -towards the Chamberlain, to whom he was wont to lay bare the innermost -recesses of his soul. Never in his presence had he even breathed -Stephania's name. Yet Benilo had seen the wife of the Senator in the -King's chamber in the eventful night of the storm of Castel San Angelo, -and his serpent-wisdom was not to be decoyed with pretexts, regarding -the true cause of Otto's illness and devouring grief. - -But lust-bitten to madness, the thoughts uppermost in Benilo's mind -reverted ever to the wager,--to the woman. Theodora must be his, at any, -at every cost. But one day now remained till the hour;--he winced at -the thought. Vainly he reminded himself that even therein lay the -greater chance. How much might happen in the brief eternity of one day; -how much, if the opportunities were but turned to proper account. But -was it wise to wait the fatal hour? He had not had speech with Theodora -since she had laid the whip-lash on his cheek. The blow still smarted -and the memory of the deadly insult stung him to immediate action. Once -more he would bend his steps to her presence; once more he would try -what persuasion might do; then, should fortune smile upon him, should -the woman relent, he would have removed from his path the greater peril, -and be prepared to deal with every emergency. - -How he lived through the day he knew not. Hour after hour crawled by, -an eternity of harrowing suspense. And even while wishing for the day's -end, he dreaded the coming of the night. - -While Benilo was thus weighing the chances of success, Theodora sat in -her gilded chamber brooding with wildly beating heart over what the -future held in its tightly closed hand. The hour was approaching, when -she must win the fatal wager, else--she dared not think out the thought. -Would the memory of Eckhardt sleep in the cradle of a darker memory, -which she herself must leave behind? As in response to her unspoken -query a shout of laughter rose from the groves and Theodora listened -whitening to the lips. She knew the hated sound of Roxané's voice; with -a gesture of profound irritation and disgust, she rose and fled to the -safety of her remotest chamber, where she dropped upon an ottoman in -utter weariness. Oh! not to have to listen to these sounds on this -evening of all,--on this evening on which hung the fate of her life! -Her mind was made up. She could stand the terrible strain no longer. -One by one she had seen those vanish, whom in a moment of senseless -folly she had called her friends. Only one would not vanish; one who -seemed to emerge hale from every trap, which the hunter had laid,--her -betrayer,--her tormentor, he who on this very eve would feast his eyes -on her vanquished pride, he, who hoped to fold her this very night in -his odious embrace. The very thought was worse than death. To what a -life had his villainy, his treachery consigned her! Days of anguish and -fear, nights of dread and remorse! Her life had been a curse. She had -brought misfortune and disaster upon the heads of all, who had loved -her; the accursed wanton blood of Marozia, which coursed through her -veins, had tainted her even before her birth. There was but one -atonement--Death! She had abandoned the wager. But she had despatched -her strange counsellor, Hezilo, to seek out Eckhardt and to conduct him -this very night to her presence. How he accomplished it, she cared not, -little guessing the bait he possessed in a knowledge she did not -suspect. She would confess everything to him,--her life would pay the -forfeit;--she would be at rest, where she might nevermore behold the -devilish face of her tormentor. - -With a fixed, almost vacant stare, her eyes were riveted on the door, as -if every moment she expected to see the one man enter, whom she most -feared in this hour and for whom she most longed. - -"This then is the end! This the end!" she sobbed convulsively, setting -her teeth deep into the cushions in which she hid her face, while a -torrent of scalding tears, the first she had shed in years, rushed from -her half-closed eyelids. - -From the path she had chosen, there led no way back into the world. - -She had played the great game of life and she had lost. - -She might have worn its choicest crown in the love of the man whom she -had deceived, discarded, betrayed, and now it was too late. - -But if Eckhardt should not come? - -If the harper should not succeed? - -Again she relapsed into her reverie. She almost wished his mission -would fail. She almost wished that Eckhardt would refuse to again -accompany him to the groves. Again she relived the scene of that night, -when he had laid bare her arm in the search for the fatal birth-mark. -The terrible expression which had passed into his eyes had haunted her -night and day. A deadly fear of him seized her. - -She dared not remain. She dared not face him again. The very ground -she trod seemed to scorch her feet. She must away. - -The morrow should find her far from Rome. - -The thought seemed to imbue her with new energy and strength. How she -wished this night were ended! Again the shouts and laughter from the -gardens beneath her window broke on her ear. She closed the blinds to -exclude the sounds. But they would not be excluded. Ever and ever they -continued to mock her. The air was hot and sultry even to suffocation: -still she must prepare the most necessary things for her journey, all -the precious gems and stones which would be considered a welcome -offering at any cloister. These she concealed in a mantle in which she -would escape unheeded and unnoticed from these halls, over which she had -lorded with her dire, evil beauty. - -She had scarcely completed her preparations when the sound of footsteps -behind the curtain caused her to start with a low outcry of fear. -Everything was an object of terror to her now and she had barely -regained her self-possession when the parting draperies revealed the -hated presence of Benilo. - -For a moment they faced each other in silence. - -With a withering smile on his thin, compressed lips, the Chamberlain -bowed. - -"I was informed you were awaiting some one," he said with ill-concealed -mockery in his tones. "I am here to witness your conquest, to pay my -forfeit,--or to claim it." - -Theodora with difficulty retained her composure; yet she endeavoured to -appear unconcerned and to conceal her purpose. Her eyelids narrowed as -she regarded the man who had destroyed her life. Then she replied: - -"There is no wager." - -Benilo started. - -"What do you mean?" - -"There was once a man who betrayed his master for thirty pieces of -silver. But when his master was taken, he cast the money on the floor -of the temple, went forth and hanged himself." - -"I do not understand you." - -A look of unutterable loathing passed into her eyes. - -"Enough that I might have reconquered the man,--the love I once -despised, had I wished to enter again into his life, the vile thing I -am--" - -Benilo leered upon her with an evil smile. - -"How like Ginevra of old," he sneered. "Scruples of conscience, that -make the devils laugh." - -She did not heed him. One thought alone held uppermost sway in her -mind. - -"To-morrow," she said, "I leave Rome for ever." - -With a stifled curse the Chamberlain started up. - -"With him? Never!" - -"I did not say with him." - -"No!" he retorted venomously. "But for once the truth had trapped the -falsehood on your tongue." - -She ignored his brutal speech. He watched her narrowly. As she made no -reply he continued: - -"Deem you that I would let you go back to him, even if he did not spurn -you, the thing you are? You think to deceive me by telling me that the -hot blood of Marozia has been chilled to that of a nun? A lie! A -thousand lies! Your virtue! This for the virtue of such as you," and he -snapped his fingers into her white face. "The virtue of a serpent,--of -a wanton--" - -There was a dangerous glitter in her eyes. - -Her voice sounded hardly above a whisper as she turned upon him. - -"Monster, you--who have wrecked my life, destroyed its holiest ties and -glory in the deed! Monster, who made my days a torture and my nights a -curse! I could slay you with my own hands!" - -He laughed; a harsh grating laugh. - -"What a charming Mary of Magdala!" - -Her voice was cold as steel. - -"Benilo,--I warn you--stop!" - -But his rage, at finding himself baffled at the last moment, caused the -Chamberlain to overstep the last limits of prudence and reserve. With -the stealthy step of the tiger he drew nearer. - -"You tell me in that lying, fawning voice of yours that to-morrow you -will leave Rome,--to go to him? To give him the love which is -mine,--mine--by the redeemed gauge of the sepulchre? And I tell you, -you shall not! Mine you are,--and mine you shall remain! Though," he -concluded, breathing hard, "you shall be meek enough, when, learning -from my own lips what manner of saint you are, he has cast you forth in -the street, among your kind! And I swear by the host, I will go to him -and tell him!" - -She advanced a step towards him, her eyes glowing with a feverish -lustre. Her white hands were upon her bosom as if to calm its -tempestuous heaving. - -He heeded it not, feasting his eyes on her great beauty with the -inflamed lust of the libertine. - -"I will save you the trouble," she said calmly, "I will tell him -myself." - -"And what will you tell him? That he has espoused one of the harlot -brood of Marozia, one, who has sold his honour--defiled his bed--" - -"And slain the fiend who betrayed her!" - -A wild shriek, a tussle,--a choked outcry,--she struck--once, twice, -thrice:--for a moment his hands wildly beat the air, then he reeled -backward, lurched and fell, his head striking the hard marble floor. - -The bloody weapon fell from Theodora's trembling hands. - -"Avenged!" she gasped, staring with terrible fascination at the spot -where he lay. - -Benilo had raised himself upon his arm, filing his wild bloodshot eyes -on the woman. He attempted to rise,--another moment, and the death -rattle was in his throat. He fell back and expired. - -There was no pity in Theodora's eyes, only a great, nameless fear as she -looked down upon him where he lay. It had grown dark in the chamber. -The blue moon-mist poured in through the narrow casement, and with it -came the chimes from remote cloisters, floating as it were on the -silence of night, cleaving the darkness, as it is cloven by a falling -star. Theodora's heart was beating, as if it must break. Lighting a -candle she softly opened the door and made her way through a labyrinth -of passages and corridors in which her steps re-echoed from the high -vaulted ceilings. Farther and farther she wandered away from the -inhabited part of the building, when her ear suddenly caught a metallic -sound, sharp, like the striking of a gong. - -For a moment she remained rooted to the spot, staring straight before -her as one dazed. Then she retraced her steps towards the Pavilion, -whence came singing voices and sounds of high revels. - -Sometime after she had left her chamber, two Africans entered it, picked -up the lifeless body of the Chamberlain, and, after carrying it to a -remote part of the building, flung it into the river. - -The yellow Tiber hissed in white foam over the spot, where Benilo sank. -The mad current dragged his body down to the slime of the river-bed, -picked it up again in its swirl, tossed it in mocking sport from one -foam-crested wave to another, and finally flung it, to rot, on some -lonely bank, where the gulls screamed above it and the gray foxes of the -Maremmas gnawed and snapped and snarled over the bleached bones in the -moonlight. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *NEMESIS* - - -While these events, so closely touching his own life, transpired in the -Groves of Theodora, while a triple traitor met his long-deferred doom, -and a trembling woman cowered fear-struck and tortured by terrible -forebodings in her chambers, Eckhardt sat in the shaded loggia of his -palace, brooding over the great mystery of his life and its impending -solution; meditating upon his course in the final act of the weird -drama. But one resolution stood out clearly defined in all the chaos of -his thoughts. He would not leave Rome ere he had broken down behind him -every bridge leading back into the past. - -It had been a day such as the oldest inhabitants of Rome remembered none -at this late season. The very heavens seemed to smoke with heat. The -grass in the gardens was dry and brittle, as if it had been scorched by -passing flames. A singularly profound stillness reigned everywhere, -there being not the slightest breeze to stir the faintest rustle among -the dry foliage. - -How long Eckhardt had thus been lost in vague speculations on the -impending crisis of his life he scarcely knew, when the sound of -footsteps approaching over the gravel path caused him to shake off the -spell which was heavy upon him, and to peer through the interstices of -the vines in quest of the new-comer who wore the garb of a monk, the -cowl drawn over his face either for protection against the heat, or to -evade recognition. Yet no sooner had he set foot in the vineshaded -loggia, than Eckhardt arose from his seat, eager, breathless. - -"At last!" he gasped, extending his hand, which the other grasped in -silence. "At last!" - -"At last!" said Hezilo. - -The word seemed fraught with destinies. - -"Is the time at hand?" queried Eckhardt. - -"To-night!" - -A groan broke from the Margrave's lips. - -"To-night!" - -Then he beckoned his visitor to a seat. - -"I have come to fulfil my promise," spoke Hezilo. - -"Tell me all!" - -Hezilo nodded; yet he seemed at a loss how to commence. After a pause he -began his tale in a voice strangely void of inflection, like that of an -automaton gifted with speech. - -Dwelling briefly on the events of his own life from the time of his -arrival in Rome with the motherless girl Angiola, on her chance meeting -with Benilo and the latter's pretence of interest in his child, Hezilo -touched upon the Chamberlain's clandestine visits at the convent, where -he had placed her, upon the girl's strange fascination for the courtier, -the latter's promises and advances, culminating in Angiola's abduction. -After having betrayed his credulous victim, the Chamberlain had revealed -himself the fiend he was by causing her to be concealed in an old ruin, -and, to secure immunity for himself, he had her deprived of the sight of -her eyes. In a voice resonant with the echoes of despair, Hezilo -described the long and fruitless hunt for his lost child, of whose -whereabouts the disconsolate nuns at the convent disclaimed all -knowledge, till chance had guided him to the place of Angiola's -concealment, in the person of an old crone, whom he had surprised among -the ruins of the ill-famed temple of Isis, whither she carried food to -the blind girl at certain hours of the day. At the point of his dagger -he had forced a confession and by a sufficiently large bribe purchased -her silence regarding his discovery. The rest was known to Eckhardt, who -had witnessed Angiola's rescue from her dismal prison, as he had been -present in her dying hour. - -There was a long silence between them. Then Hezilo continued his -account. Step for step he had fastened himself to the heels of the -betrayer of his child, whose name the crone had revealed to him. Again -and again he might have destroyed the libertine, had he not reserved him -for a more summary and terrible execution. He had discovered Benilo's -illicit amour with one Theodora, a woman of great beauty but of -mysterious origin, who had established her wanton court at Rome. As a -wandering minstrel Hezilo had found there a ready welcome, and had in -time gained her confidence and ear. - -Eckhardt's senses began to reel as he listened to the revelations now -poured into his ears. Much, which the confession of the dying wretch in -the rock-caves under the Gemonian stairs had left obscure, was now -illumined, as a dark landscape by lightnings from a distant cloud-bank. -Ginevra's smouldering discontent with Eckhardt's seeming lack of -ambition, her inordinate desire for power,--the Chamberlain's covert -advances and veiled promises, aided by his chance discovery of her -descent from Marozia; their conspiracy, culminating in the woman's -simulated illness and death; the substitution of a strange body in the -coffin, which had been sealed under pretence of premature -decay,--Ginevra's flight to a convent, where she remained concealed till -after Eckhardt's departure from Rome:--from stage to stage Hezilo -proceeded in his strange unimpassioned tale, a tale which caused his -listener's brain to spin and his senses to reel. - -The monk conducting the last rites, having chanced upon the fraud, had -been promised nothing less than the Triple Tiara of St. Peter as reward -for his silence and complicity, as soon as Ginevra should have come into -her own. Continuing, Hezilo touched upon Ginevra's reappearance in Rome -under the name of Theodora; on the Chamberlain's betrayal of the woman. -He dwelt on the events leading up to the wager and the forfeit, the -woman's share in luring Eckhardt from the Basilica, and Benilo's attempt -to poison him at the fateful meeting in the Grotto. He concluded by -pointing out the Chamberlain's utter desperation and the woman's mortal -fear,--and Eckhardt listened as one dazed. - -Then Hezilo briefly outlined his plans for the night. - -Eckhardt's destruction had been decreed by the Chamberlain and nothing -short of a miracle could save him. The utmost caution and secrecy were -required. Benilo, whose attention would be divided between Theodora and -Eckhardt, was to be dealt with by himself. The blood of his child cried -for vengeance. Thus Eckhardt would be free to settle last accounts with -the woman. - -Burying his head in his hands the strong man wept like a disconsolate -child, his whole frame shaken by convulsive sobs, and it was some time, -ere he regained sufficient composure to face Hezilo. - -"It will require all your courage," said the harper, rising to depart. -"Steel your heart against hope or mercy! I will await you at sunset at -the Church of the Hermits." - -And without waiting the Margrave's reply, Hezilo was gone. - -Eckhardt felt like one waking from a terrible dream, the oppression of -which remains after its phantoms have vanished. The suspense of waiting -till dusk seemed almost unendurable. Now that the hour seemed so nigh, -the dread hour of final reckoning, there was a tightening agony at -Eckhardt's heart, an agony that made him long to cry out, to weep, to -fling himself on his knees and pray, pray for deliverance, for oblivion, -for absolute annihilation. Walking up and down the vineshaded loggia, -he paused now and then to steal a look at the flaming disk of the sun, -that seemed to stand still in the heavens, while at other times he -stared absently into the gnarled stems, in whose hollow shelter the -birds slept and the butterflies drowsed. - -Even as the parted spirit of the dead might ruthfully hover over the -grave of its perished mortal clay, so Eckhardt reviewed his own forlorn -estate, torturing his brain with all manner of vain solutions. - -This night, then,--the night which quenched the light of this agonizing -day, must for ever quench his doubts and fears. He drew a long breath. -A great weariness weighed down his spirit. An irresistible desire for -rest came over him. The late rebellion, brief but fierce, the constant -watch at the palace on the Aventine, the alarming state of the young -King, who was dying of a broken heart, the futility of all counsel to -prevail upon him to leave this accursed city, the lack of a friend, to -whom he might confide his own misgivings without fear of betrayal,--all -these had broken down his physical strength, which no amount of bodily -exertion would have been able to accomplish. - -After a time he resumed his seat, burying his head in his hands. - -The air of the late summer day was heavy and fragrant with the peculiar -odour of decaying leaves, and the splashing of the fountain, which sent -its crystal stream down towards Santa Maria del Monte, seemed like a -lullaby to Eckhardt's overwrought senses. Night after night he had not -slept at all; he had not dared to abandon the watch on Aventine for even -a moment. Now nature asserted her rights. - -Lower and lower drooped his aching lids and slowly he was beginning to -slip away into blissful unconsciousness. How long he had remained in -this state, he scarcely knew, when he was startled, as by some unknown -presence. - -Rousing himself with an effort and looking up, he was filled with a -strange awe at the phenomenon which met his gaze. Right across the -horizon that glistened with pale green hues like newly frozen water, -there reposed a cloud-bank, risen from the Tyrrhene Sea, black as the -blackest midnight, heavy and motionless like an enormous shadow fringed -with tremulous lines of gold. - -This cloud-bank seemed absolutely stirless, as if it had been thrown, a -ponderous weight, into the azure vault of heaven. Ever and anon silvery -veins of lightning shot luridly through its surface, while poised, as it -were immediately above it, was the sun, looking like a great scarlet -seal, a ball of crimson fire, destitute of rays. - -For a time Eckhardt stood lost in the contemplation of this fantastic -sky-phenomenon. As he did so, the sun plunged into the engulfing -darkness. Lowering purple shadows crept across the heavens, but the -huge cloud, palpitating with lightnings, moved not, stirred not, nor -changed its shape by so much as a hair's breadth. - -It appeared like a vast pall, spread out in readiness for the state -burial of the world, the solemn and terrible moment: The End of Time. - -Fascinated by an aspect, which in so weird a manner reflected his own -feelings, Eckhardt looked upon the threatening cloud-bank as an evil -omen. A strange sensation seized him, as with a hesitating fear not -unmingled with wonder, he watched the lightnings come and go. - -A shudder ran through his frame as he paced up and down the -white-pillared Loggia, garlanded with climbing vines, roses and passion -flowers, dying or decayed. - -"Would the night were passed," he muttered to himself, and the man who -had stormed the impregnable stronghold of Crescentius quailed before the -impending issue as a child trembles in the dark. - -At the hour appointed he traversed the solitary region of the -Trastevere. The vast silence, the vast night, were full of solemn -weirdness. The moon, at her full, soared higher and higher in the -balconies of the East, firing the lofty solitudes of the heavens with -her silver-beams. But immobile in the purple cavity of the western -horizon there lay that ominous cloud, nerved as it were with living -lightnings, which leaped incessantly from its centre, like a thousand -swords, drawn from a thousand scabbards. - -The deep booming noise of a bell now smote heavily on the silence. -Oppressed by the weight of unutterable forebodings, Eckhardt welcomed -the sound with a vague sense of relief. At the Church of the Hermits he -was joined by the harper and together they rapidly traversed the region -leading to the Groves. In the supervening stillness their ears caught -the sound of harptones, floating through the silent autumnal night. - -The higher rising moon outlined with huge angles of light and shadow the -marble palaces, which stood out in strong relief against a transparent -background and the Tiber, wherein her reflections were lengthened into a -glittering column, was frosted with silvery ripples. - -At last they reached the entrance of the groves. - -"Be calm!" said Eckhardt's guide. "Let nothing that you may see or hear -draw you from the path of caution. Think that, whatever you may suffer, -there are others who may suffer more! Silence! No questions now! -Remember--here are only foes!" - -The harper spoke with a certain harsh impatience, as if he were himself -suffering under a great nervous strain, and Eckhardt, observing this, -made no effort to engage him in conversation, aside from promising to be -guided by his counsel. He felt ill at ease, however, as one entering a -labyrinth from whose intricate maze he relies only on the firm guidance -of a friend to release him. - -They now entered the vast garden, fraught with so many fatal memories. -At the end of the avenue there appeared the well-remembered pavilion, -and, avoiding the main entrance, the harper guided Eckhardt through a -narrow corridor into the great hall. - -A faint mist seemed to cloud the circle of seats and the high-pitched -voices of the revellers seemed lost in infinite distance. In no mood to -note particulars, Eckhardt's gaze penetrated the dizzy glare, in which -ever new zones of light seemed to uprear themselves, leaping from wall -to wall like sparkling cascades. As in the throes of a terrible -nightmare he stood riveted to the spot, for at that very moment his eyes -encountered a picture which froze the very life-blood in his veins. - -In the background, revealed by the parting draperies there stood, -leaning against one of the rose-marble columns, the image of Ginevra. -Her robe of crimson fell in two superb folds from the peaks of her bosom -to her feet. The marble pallor of her face formed a striking contrast -to the consuming fire of her eyes, which seemed to rove anxiously, -restlessly over the diminished circle of her guests. The most execrable -villain of them all,--Benilo,--had at her hands met his long-deferred -doom. Those on whom she had chiefly relied for the realization of her -strange ambition now swung from the gibbets on Monte Malo,--their -executioner Eckhardt. Strange irony of fate! From those remaining, who -polluted the hall with their noisome presence, she had nothing to hope, -nothing to fear. - -And this then was the end! - -It required Hezilo's almost superhuman efforts to restrain Eckhardt from -committing a deed disastrous in its remotest consequences to himself and -their common purpose. For in the contemplation of the woman who had -wrecked his life, a tide of such measureless despair swept through -Eckhardt's heart, that every thought, every desire was drowned in the -mad longing to visit instant retribution on the woman's guilty head and -also to close his own account with life. But the mood did not endure. -A strange delirium seized him; the woman's siren-beauty entranced and -intoxicated him like the subtle perfume of some rare exotic; mingled -love and hate surged up in his heart; he dared not trust himself, for -even though he resented, he could not resist the fatal spell of former -days. The absence of Benilo, of whose doom he was ignorant, inspired the -harper with dire misgivings. After peering with ill-concealed -apprehension through the shadowy vistas of remote galleries, he at last -whispered to Eckhardt, to follow him, and they were entering a dimly -lighted corridor, leading into the fateful Grotto, which Eckhardt had -visited on that well-remembered night, when a terrific event arrested -their steps, and caused them to remain rooted to the spot. - -A blinding, circular sweep of lightning blazed through the windows of -the pavilion, illumining it from end to end with a brilliant blue glare, -accompanied by a deafening crash and terrific peal of thunder which -shook the very earth beneath. A flash of time,--an instant of black, -horrid eclipse,--then, with an appalling roar, as of the splitting of -huge rocks, the murky gloom was rent, devoured and swept away by the -sudden bursting forth of fire. From twenty different parts of the great -hall it seemed at once to spring aloft in spiral coils. With a wild cry -of terror those of the revellers who had not outright been struck dead -by the fiery bolt, rushed towards the doors, clambering in frenzied fear -over the dead, trampling on the scorched disfigured faces of the dancing -girls, on whose graceful pantomime they had feasted their eyes so short -a time ago. - -There was no safety in the pavilion, which a moment had transformed into -a seething furnace. Volumes of smoke rolled up in thick, suffocating -clouds, and the crimson glare of the flames illumined the dark night-sky -far over the Aventine. - -Half mad with fear from the shrieks and groans of the dying, which -resounded everywhere about her, Theodora stood rooted to the spot, still -clinging to the great column. Over her face swept a strange expression -of loathing and exultation. Her eyes wandered to the red-tongued -flames, that leaped in eddying rings round the great marble pillars, -creeping every second nearer to the place where she stood, and in that -one glance she seemed to recognize the entire hopelessness of rescue and -the certainty of death. - -For a moment the thought seemed terrifying beyond expression. None had -thought of her,--all had sought their own safety! She laughed a laugh -of uttermost, bitter scorn. - -At last she seemed to regain her presence of mind. Turning, she started -to the back of the great pavilion, with the manifest object of reaching -some private way of egress, known but to herself. But her intention was -foiled. No sooner had she gone back than she returned--this exit too -was a roaring furnace. In terrible reverberations the thunder bellowed -through the heavens, which seemed one vast ocean of flame; the elements -seemed to join hands in the effort at her destruction:--So be it! It -would extinguish a life of dishonour, disgrace and despair. - -A haughty acceptance of her fate manifested itself in her stonily -determined face. It would be atonement--though the end was terrible! - -Suddenly she heard a rush close by her side. Looking up, she beheld the -one she dreaded most on earth to meet, saw Eckhardt rushing blindly -towards her through smoke and flames, crying frantically: - -"Save her! Save her!" - -Her wistful gaze, like that of a fascinated bird, was fixed on the -Margrave's towering stature. - -She tarried but a moment. - -At the terrible crisis, on one side a roaring furnace,--on the other the -man whom of all mortals she had wronged past forgiveness, her courage -failed her. Remembering a secret door, leading to a tower, connected -with a remote wing of the pavilion, where she might yet find safety, she -dashed swift as thought through the panel, which receded at her touch, -and vanished in the dark corridor beyond. Without heeding the dangers -which might beset his path, Eckhardt flew after her through the gloom, -till he found himself before a spiral stairway, at the terminus of the -passage. A faint glimmer of light from above penetrated the gloom, and -following it, he was startled by a faint outcry of terror, as on the -last landing, to which he madly leaped, he found himself once more face -to face with the woman, whom even at this moment he loved more in the -certainty of having lost her, than ever in the pride and ecstasy of -possession. - -Seemingly hemmed in by an obstacle, the nature, which he knew not, she -stood before him paralyzed with horror. As his hand went out towards -her, the gesture seemed to break the spell, and uttering a despairing -shriek, she sprang towards a door behind the landing and rushed out. - -Eckhardt's breath stopped. - -A moment,--he heard an outcry of inexpressible horror,--a struggle, then -a hollow dash. Hardly conscious of his own actions he uttered a shrill -whistle, when the door of the tower was broken down, and the stairs were -suddenly crowded with the soldiers of the imperial guard, whom the -conflagration had brought to the scene. - -"What woman was that?" exclaimed their leader, pointing to the place -whence Theodora had made the fatal leap. - -"Whoever she is--she must be dashed to pieces," replied his companion, -rushing up the stairs to the trap-door and throwing his lighted torch -down the murky depths. But the light was soon lost in the profound -gloom. - -"A rope! A rope! She must not, she shall not die thus!" cried Eckhardt -in mad, heart-rending despair. - -"Here is one, but it is not long enough!" exclaimed the captain of the -guard, hardly able to conceal his mortification at finding himself face -to face with his general. - -"Hark! She groans! Help! Help me!" exclaimed Eckhardt, and tearing -his cloak into strips, he fastened them together. The work was swiftly -completed. These strips fastened to the rope and securely knotted, -Eckhardt tied around his waist, and though the leader of the men-at-arms -sought to dissuade him from his desperate purpose, he started down, -clinging and swinging over a dreadful depth. - -The captain of the guard swung the torch down after him as far as -possible, but soon the light grew misty, the voices above indistinct, -and it seemed to Eckhardt as if he were encompassed by a black mist. -Still he continued his descent. His next sensation was that of an -intolerable stench and a burning heat in the hand, caused no doubt by -friction with the rope. A difficulty in breathing, increased darkness -and singing noises in his ears were successive sensations; he began to -feel dizzy and a dread assailed him, that he was about to swoon and -abandon his hold. Suddenly he felt the last notch of the rope and, not -knowing what depth remained, argued that any further effort was in vain. -Extending first one arm, then another, he groped wildly about, striving -to shout for light; but his voice died in the gloom. Gasping and almost -stifled as he was, he made one last desperate effort, when suddenly his -groping hand grasped something, which appeared to him either like hair -or weeds. At this critical moment the captain of the guard sent down a -lamp, which he had procured. It fell hissing in the mire, but it -afforded him sufficient light to see that the object of his search lay -buried in the slime, and that she was gasping convulsively. Eckhardt's -strength was now almost spent, but this sight seemed to restore it all. -Noting a projecting ledge of stone lower down, he leaped upon it and was -thus obliged to abandon his hold on the rope. Eckhardt seized the woman -by the gown, dragged her from the mire and making a desperate leap, -regained the ledge, then signalled to those above to draw him up by -jerking the rope. - -Motionless she lay on his arm and it was only by twisting it in a -peculiar manner round the rope, that he was enabled to support the -terrible burden. For a time they hung suspended over the abyss, yet -they were gradually nearing the top. If he could only endure the agony -of his twisted limbs a little longer, both were safe. He could not -shout, for he felt that suffocation must ensue; his eyes and ears seemed -bursting as from some stunning weight; and a deadly faintness seemed to -benumb his limbs. Suddenly, as by some miracle, the burden seemed -lightened, though he felt it still reclining in his arms. A wonderful -support seemed to raise up his own sinking frame, then all grew bright -and numerous faces strained down on him. In a few moments he was on a -level with the floor and many arms stretched out, to help him land. -Heedless of the roaring sea of fire in the pavilion, they carried the -wretched woman to the landing, where they laid her on the floor, -attempting, for a time in vain, to restore her. She seemed suffering -from some severe internal injury and her lips bubbled with gore. At -length she opened her eyes and with a shriek of agony made signs that -she was suffocating and desired to be raised. Eckhardt, who stood -beside her, raised her, and as he did so, she regarded him with a wild -and piteous gaze and murmured his name in a tone which went to the heart -of all. - -As he bent over her, she made a convulsive effort to rise. - -"I have slain the fiend, who came between us--forgive me if you can--" -she muttered, then gasping: "Heaven have mercy on my soul!" she fell -back into Eckhardt's arms. - -At a sign from the Margrave the men-at-arms withdrew, leaving him alone -with his gruesome burden. - -After they had descended, he bent over the prostrate form, he had loved -so well, touching with gentle fingers the soft, dark hair, which lay -against his breast. Once,--he recalled the mad delirium of holding her -thus close to his heart. Now there was something dreary, weird, and -terrible in what would under other conditions have been unspeakable -rapture. A chill as of death ran through him as he supported the dying -woman in his arms. Her silken robe, her perfumed hair, the cold contact -of the gems about her,--all these repelled him strangely; his soul was -groaning under the anguish, his brain began to reel with a nameless, -dizzy horror. - -At last she stirred. Her body quivered in his hold, consciousness -returned for a brief moment, and, with a heavy sigh, she whispered as -from the depths of a dream: - -"Eckhardt!" - -A fierce pang convulsed the heart of the unhappy man. He started so -abruptly, that he almost let her drop from his supporting arms. But his -voice was choked; he could not speak. - -A groan,--a convulsive shudder,--a last sigh,--and Theodora's spirit had -flown from the lacerated flesh. - -In silent anguish Eckhardt knelt beside the body of the woman, heedless -of the hurricane which raged without, heedless of the flames, which, -creeping closer and closer, began to lick the tower with their crimson -tongues. At last, aroused by the warning cries of the men-at-arms -below, Eckhardt staggered to his feet with the dead body, and scarcely -had he emerged from the tower, when a terrible roar, a deafening crash -struck his ear. The roof and walls of the great pavilion had fallen in -and millions of sparks hissed up into the flaming ether. - -For a moment Eckhardt paused, stupefied by the sheer horror of the -scene. The pavilion was now but a hissing, shrieking pyramid of flames; -the hot and blinding glare almost too much for human eyes to endure. -Yet so fascinated was he with the sublime terror of the spectacle that -he could scarcely turn away from it. A host of spectral faces seemed to -rise out of the flames and beckon to him, to return,--when a tremendous -peal of thunder, rolling in eddying vibrations through the heavens, -recalled him to the realization of the moment, and gave the needful spur -to his flagging energies. Raising his aching eyes, Eckhardt saw -straight before him a gloomy archway, appearing like the solemn portal -of some funeral vault, dark and ominous, yet promising relief for the -moment. Stumbling over the dead bodies of Roxané and Roffredo and -several other corpses strewn among fallen blocks of marble, and every -now and then looking back in irresistible fascination on the fiery -furnace in his rear, he carried his lifeless burden to the nearest -shelter. He dared not think of the beauty of that dead face, of its -subtle slumbrous charm, and stung to a new sense of desperation he -plunged recklessly into the dark aperture, which seemed to engulf him -like the gateway of some magic cavern. He found himself in a circular, -roofless court, paved with marble, long discoloured by climate and age. -Here he tenderly laid his burden down, and kneeling by Ginevra's side, -bid his face in his hands. - -A second crash, that seemed to rend the very heavens, caused Eckhardt at -last to wake from his apathy of despair. A terrible spectacle met his -eyes. The east wall of the tower, in which Ginevra had sought refuge -and found death, had fallen out; the victorious fire roared loudly round -its summit, enveloping the whole structure in clouds of smoke and jets -of flame; whose lurid lights crimsoned the murky air like a wide Aurora -Borealis. But on the platform of the tower there stood a solitary human -being, cut off from retreat, enveloped by the roaring element, by a sea -of flame! - -With a groan of anguish, Eckhardt fixed his straining eyes on the dark -form of Hezilo the harper, whom no human intervention could save from -his terrible doom. Whether his eagerness, to avenge his dead child or -her betrayer, had carried him too far, whether in his fruitless search -for the Chamberlain he had grown oblivious of the perils besetting his -path, whether too late he had thought of retreat,--clearly defined -against the lurid, flame-swept horizon his tall dark form stood out on -the crest of the tower;--another moment of breathless horrid suspense -and the tower collapsed with a deafening crash, carrying its lonely -occupant to his perhaps self-elected doom. - -All that night Eckhardt knelt by the dead body of his wife. When the -bleak, gray dawn of the rising day broke over the crest of the Sabine -hills he rose, and went away. Soon after a company of monks appeared -and carried Theodora's remains to the mortuary chapel of San Pancrazio, -where they were to be laid to their last and eternal rest. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *VALE ROMA* - - -It was the eve of All Souls Day in the year nine hundred ninety -nine,--the day so fitly recalling the fleeting glories of summer, of -youth, of life, a day of memories and tributes offered up to the -departed. - -Afar to westward the sun, red as a buckler fallen from Vulcan, still -cast his burning reflections. On the horizon with changing sunset tints -glowed the departing orb, brightening the crimson and russet foliage on -terrace and garden walls. At last the burning disk disappeared amid a -mass of opalescent clouds, which had risen in the west; the fading -sunset hues swooned to the gray of twilight and the breath of scanty -flowers, the odour of dead leaves touched the air with perfume faint as -the remembered pathos of autumn. No breeze stirred the dead leaves -still clinging to their branches, no sound broke the silence, save from -a cloister the hum of many droning voices. Now and then the air was -touched with the fragrance of hayfields, reclaimed here and there upon -the Campagna, and mists were slowly descending upon the snow-capped peak -of Soracté. In the dim purple haze of the distance the circle of walls, -a last vestige of the defence of the ancient world, stood a sun-browned -line of watch-towers against the horizon. From their crenelated ramparts -at long distances, a sentinel looked wearily upon the undulating stretch -of vacant, fading green. - -In the portico of the imperial palace on the Aventine sat Eckhardt, -staring straight before him. Since the terrible night, which had -culminated in the crisis of his life, the then mature man seemed to have -aged decades. The lines in his face had grown deeper, the furrows on -his brow lowered over the painfully contracted eyebrows. No one had -ventured to speak to him, no one to break in upon his solitude. The -world around him seemed to have vanished. He heard nothing, he saw -nothing. His heart within him seemed to be a thing dead to all the -world,--to have died with Ginevra. Only now and then he gazed with -longing, wistful glances towards the far-off northern horizon, where the -Alps raised their glittering crests,--a boundary line, not to be -transgressed with impunity. Would he ever again see the green, waving -forests of his Saxon-land, would his foot ever again tread the -mysterious dusk of the glades over which pines and oaks wove their -waving shadows, those glades once sacred to Odhin and the Gods of the -Northland? Those glades undefiled by the poison-stench of Rome? How he -longed for that purer sphere, where he might forget--forget? Can we -forget the fleeting ray of sunlight, that has brightened our existence, -and departing has left sorrow and anguish and gloom? - -Eckhardt's heart was heavy to breaking. - -As evening wore on, it was evident, that there was some new, great -commotion in the city. From every quarter pillars of dun smoke rose up -in huge columns which, spreading fan-like, hung sullenly in the yellow -of the sunset. Houses were burning. Swords were out. In the distance -straggling parties could be seen, hurrying hither and thither. - -"There is a devil's carnival brewing, or I am forsworn," muttered the -Margrave as he arose and entered the palace. There he ordered every gate -to be closed and barricaded. He knew Roman treachery, and he knew the -weakness of the garrison. - -The roar of the populace grew louder and nearer, minute by minute. -Eckhardt had hardly reached the imperial antechamber, ere the crest of -the Aventine fairly swarmed with a rebellious mob, whose numbers were -steadily increasing. Already they outnumbered the imperial guard a -hundred to one. - -It soon became evident, that their clamour could not be appeased by -peaceful persuasion. Disregarding Eckhardt's protests, Otto had made -one last effort to try the spell of his person upon the Romans;--but -hootings and revilings had been the only reply vouchsafed by the rabble -of Rome to the son of Theophano. - -"Where is Benilo? We will speak to Benilo,--the friend of the people!" -they shouted, and when he failed to appear, they cried: "They have slain -him, as they slew Crescentius," and a shower of stones hailed against -the walls of the palace. - -Otto escaped unscathed. Once more in his chamber he broke down. His -powers were waning; his resistance spent. The death of Crescentius,--the -loss of Stephania filled him with unutterable despair. He thought of -the mysterious death of Benilo, whose gashed body some fisherman had -discovered in the Tiber, and whose real character Eckhardt's account of -his crimes and misdeeds had at last revealed to him. He knew now that -he had been the dupe of a traitor, who had systematically undermined the -lofty structure of his dreams, whose fall was to bury under its ruins -the last of the glorious Saxon dynasty,--a traitor, who had deliberately -set about to break the heart whose unspoken secret he had read. And -this was the end! - -"Hark! The Romans are battering at the gates!" Haco, the captain of the -guard, addressed Eckhardt, entering breathlessly and unannounced. - -"Where they shall batter long enough," Eckhardt growled fiercely. "The -gates are triple brass and bolted! Hold the yelping curs in check, till -we are ready!" - -Haco departed and Eckhardt now prepared Otto for the necessity of -flight. All Rome was in arms against them! This time it was not the -Senator. The people themselves were bent upon Otto's capture or death. -Resistance was madness. Without a word Otto yielded. Sick, body and -soul, he cared no longer. A slow fever seemed to consume him, since -Stephania had gone from him. The malady was past cure,--for he wished -to die. The mute grief of the stricken youth went to Eckhardt's heart. -Of his own despair he dared not even think at this hour, when the -destinies of a dynasty weighed upon his shoulders, weighed him down:--he -must get Otto safely out of Rome--at any, at every cost. - -"Hark, below!" - -An uproar of voices and heavy blows against the portals rang up to their -ears. - -Eckhardt seized a torch and, sword in hand, opened the secret panel. - -"The back way,--the garden,--'tis for our lives!" he whispered to Otto, -who had hastily thrown a dark mantle over his person which might serve -to evade detention in case they met some chance straggler. The panel -closed behind them and Eckhardt locked every door in the long corridor, -through which they passed, to delay pursuit. They descended a flight of -stairs, and found themselves in a hall, which through a ruined portico, -terminated in a garden. Here Eckhardt extinguished the torch and they -paused and listened. - -Before them lay a deserted garden with marble statues and weed-grown -terraces. The gravel walks were strewn with tiny twigs and leaves of -faded summer, and stained in places with a dark green mould. There was -the soft splash of water trickling from huge mossy vases, and here and -there through a break in the foliage, peered an arrowy shaft of -moonlight. - -Here they were to await the arrival of Haco and his men. Suddenly the -glint of a halberd beyond the wall caught Eckhardt's ever watchful eye; -he counted three in succession on the other side of the wall. The -Romans seemed bent to deprive them of their only way of flight. -Eckhardt glanced about. The wall on the western side seemed unguarded. -Here the Aventine fell in a steep declivity towards the Tiber. Eckhardt -perceived there was but one course and took it instantly. - -At this moment Haco and his men-at-arms emerged with drawn swords from -the laurel thickets, in whose concealment they had awaited their leader -and King. Motioning to Otto and his companions to imitate his -movements, Eckhardt crouched down and stole cautiously along the edge of -the wall. Meanwhile the tumult without was increased by the hoarse -braying of a horn. Men could be seen rushing about with drawn swords or -any other weapons close at hand, staves, clubs and sticks, shouting and -yelling in direst confusion. - -Amidst this uproar the small band reached the edge of the Tiber and -their repeated signals caused a boat rowed by a gigantic fellow to -approach. The oarsman, however, insisted on his pay before he would -take them across. - -After they had safely reached the opposite shore they bound and gagged -the owner of the craft, to insure his secrecy. Then the party sped up a -narrow lane and paused before a ruinous house which, to judge from its -black and crumbling beams, seemed to have been recently destroyed by -fire. Here they waited until one of the party secured their steeds. - -During all this time Otto had not spoken a word. - -Now that he was about to mount the steed, which was to bear him from -Rome for ever, he turned with one last heart-breaking look toward the -city. - -A desire, fierce as that of hunger, wearing as that of sleep, filled -him,--the desire of death. - -At last he rode away with the others. - -The night grew darker. The sky was full of clouds and the wind shrieked -through the spectral branches of the pines. The travellers pursued their -way along the well beaten tracks of the Flaminian Way, keeping a -constant look-out for surprises. They re-crossed the Tiber at a ford -above the city, and then only they brought their steeds to a more -leisurely gait. - -Gradually the ground began to ascend. - -A turn in the road brought them to a high plateau. Its rising knolls -were crowned with broad and ancient plane-trees, in the midst of which -towered a gibbet, from which swung the bodies of two malefactors, -recently executed. Otto shuddered at the omen. Death on every -turn,--death at every step. The moon at fitful intervals cast from -between the rifts in the clouds a feeble radiance upon desolate fields. -A company of hungry crows rose at the approach of the horsemen from the -stubble, filled the air with their cawing and flapped their way swiftly -out of sight. At that moment a horseman galloped past with great -rapidity, seeming eagerly to scan the cavalcade. He was closely muffled -and had vanished in the night, ere he could be hailed or recognized. - -Rome swiftly vanished behind them. After passing the last scattered -houses on the outskirts, they finally reached the open Campagna. The -darkness increased and the night wore every appearance of proving a -dismal one. The wind was high and swept the clouds wildly over the face -of the moon. - -In silence they proceeded on their way, until they espied a low range of -hills, white on the summits with lightning. A dense wood skirted the -road on the left for several miles. But as far as the eye could -penetrate the murky twilight, no human being, no human habitation -appeared. - -In the ruins of an old monastery they spent the night, and for the first -in three, Otto slept. But his sleep did not refresh him, nor restore -his strength. Throughout his fitful slumbers, he saw the pale face of -Stephania, the face, which with so mad a longing he had dreamed into his -heart, the heart she had broken, but which loved her still. - -Gloomily the morning light of the succeeding day broke upon the Roman -Campagna. The sun was hidden behind a lowering sky and fitful gusts of -wind swept the great, barren expanse. Undaunted, though their hearts -were filled with dire misgivings, the small band continued their march, -northward, ever northward,--towards the goal of their journey, the -Castel of Paterno, perched on the distant slopes of Soracté. - - - - - *Book the Third* - - *Our Lady - of Death* - - - - - "As I came through the desert, thus it was, - As I came through the desert: From the right - A shape came slowly with a ruddy light, - A woman with a red lamp in her hand, - Bareheaded and barefooted on that strand. - A large black sign was on her breast that bowed, - A broad black band ran down her snow-white shroud. - That lamp she held, was her own burning heart, - Whose blood-drops trickled step by step apart." - --_James Thomson_. - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *PATERNO* - - -The sun was nigh the horizon, and the whole west glowed with exquisite -colour, reflected in the watery moors of the Campagna, as a troop of -horsemen approached the high tableland skirting the Cimminian foothills. -Not a human being was visible for many miles around; only a few wild -fowl fluttered over the pools and reedy islets of the marshes and the -lake of Bolsena gleamed crimson in the haze of the sunset. - -The boundless, undulant plain spread before them, its farms, villas and -aqueducts no less eloquent of death than the tombs they had passed on -the silent Via Appia. The still air and the deep hush seemed to speak -to man's soul as with the voice of eternity. On the left of the -horsemen yawned a deep ravine, from which arose towering cliffs, crowned -with monasteries and convents. On their right lay the mountain chains -of the Abruzzi, resembling dark and troubled sea-waves, and to southward -the view was bounded by the billowy lines of the Sabine hills, rolling -infinitely away. Beyond they saw the villages scattered through the -gray Campagna and in the farthest distance the mountain shadows began to -darken over the roofs of ancient Tusculum and that second Alba which -rises in desolate neglect above the vanished palaces of Pompey and -Domitian. - -It was the day on which is observed the poetic Festa dell' Ottobrata, a -festival of pagan significance, with the archaic dance and garlanded -processions of harvest and vintage, when the townsfolk go out into the -country, to look upon the mellow tints of autumn, to walk in the -vineyards, to taste the purple grapes, and to breathe the fragrance, -filling the air with odours finer than the flavour of wine. The fields -were mellowed to yellow stubble and the creepers touched by the first -chill of autumn hung in crimson garlands along the russet hedges. Here -and there, among the stately poplars loomed up farmhouses with thatched -roofs, which from afar resembled pointed haystacks on the horizon. At -intervals among the crimson and russet leafage rose a spectral cypress, -like a sombre shadow. In the haze of the distance crooked olive-trees -raised their branches in tints of silver-gray. The air was still, but -for an occasional hum of insect life. The faint, white outlines of the -Apennines shone brilliant and glistening in the evening glow. The -travellers passed Camaldoli with its convents reared upon high, almost -inaccessible cliffs; the cloisters of Monte Cassino had vanished behind -them in silvery haze. They approached Paterno by a road skirted with -villas and gardens, with ancient statues and shady alleys. The -proximity of the mountains made the air chill; here and there a ray of -sunlight filtered through the branches of the plane-trees. - -High Paterno towered above, among its rocks and steeps. - -Ever since their flight from Rome, Otto had been in the throes of a -benumbing lethargy, which had deprived him of interest in everything, -even life itself. Vain had been his companions' effort to rouse him -from his brooding state, vainly had they pointed out to him the beauties -of the landscape. Was it the ghost of Johannes Crescentius, the Senator -of Rome, that was haunting the son of Theophano? - -After having crossed a swinging bridge, which swayed to and fro under -the weight of their iron mail, they arrived at a narrow causeway, above -which, like some contemplative spirit above the conflicting problems of -life, rose the cloisters, environing the ancient Castel of Paterno. -Eckhardt knocked at the barred gate with the hilt of his sword, -whereupon a monk appeared at the window of a tower above the portcullis, -and after reconnoitring, set some machinery in motion, by which the -portcullis was raised. They then found themselves in a long, narrow -causeway cut in the rock. The monk who had admitted them disappeared; -another ushered them into the great hall of the cloister. The air was -full of the lingering haze of License, and traces of devotional -paintings on the weather-beaten walls appeared like fragments of prayers -in a world-worn mind. - -The hall had been made from a natural cavern and was of an exceedingly -gloomy aspect, being of great extent, with deep windows only on one -side, hewn in the solid granite. It was at intervals crossed by arches, -marking the termination of several galleries leading to remoter parts of -the monastery. In the centre was a long stone table, hewn from the rock; -a pulpit, supported on a pillar was similarly sculptured in the wall. -Five or six pine-wood torches, stuck at far intervals in the granite, -shed a dismal illumination through the gloom, enhanced rather than -diminished by the glow of red embers on a vast hearth at the farthest -extremity of the hall. - -Eckhardt was about to prefer his request to the monk, who had conducted -them hither, when he was interrupted by the entrance of the abbot and a -long train of monks from their devotions. The monks advanced in solemn -silence, their heads sunk humbly on their breasts; their superior so -worn with vigils and fasts, that his gaunt and powerful frame resembled -a huge skeleton. He was the only one of the group who uttered a word of -welcome to his guests. - -After having ordered Haco to attend to the wants of his lord, Eckhardt -sought a conference with the abbot on matters which lay close to his -heart. For his sovereign was ill--and his illness seemed to defy human -skill. The abbot listened to Eckhardt's recital of the past events, but -his diagnosis was far from quieting the latter's fears. - -"You learn to speak and think very dismally among these great, sprawling -pine forests," Eckhardt said moodily, at the conclusion of the -conference. - -"We learn to die!" replied the monk with melancholy austerity. - -Consideration for his sovereign's safety, however, prompted Eckhardt, -who had been informed that straggling bands of their pursuers had -followed them to the base of the hill, to continue that same night under -guidance of a monk, the ascent to the almost impregnable heighths of -Castel Paterno. Here Otto and his small band were welcomed by Count -Tammus, the commander, who placed himself and his men-at-arms at the -disposal of the German King. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *MEMORIES* - - -Otto found himself in a state chamber, whose gloomy vastness was -lighted, or rather darkened by one single taper. Through the high oval -windows in the deep recess of the wall peered an errant ray of -moonlight, which illumined the quaint monastic paintings on the walls, -and crossing the yellow candle-light, imbued them with a strange ghostly -glare. - -When his host had ministered to his comfort and served him with the -frugal fare of the cloister, Otto hinted his desire for sleep, and his -trusty Saxons entered on their watch before their sovereign's chamber. - -At last, left alone, Otto listened with a heavy heart to the monotonous -tread of the sentries. It seemed to him as if he could now take a -survey of the events of his life, and pass sentence upon it with the -impartiality of the future chronicler. Recollection roused up -recollection; and as in a panorama, the scenes of his short, but -eventful career passed in review before his inner eye. He thought of -what he was, contrasting it painfully with all he might have been. The -image of the one being, for whom his soul yearned in its desolation, -with the blinding hunger of man for woman and woman's love, rose up -before his eyes, and for the first time he thought of death,--death,--in -its full and ghastly actuality. - -What was it, this death? Was it a sleep? Merely the absence, not the -privation of those powers and senses, called life? What sort of passage -must the thinking particle pass through, whatever it may be,--ere it -stood naked of its clay? The breaking of the eyes in darkness,--what -then succeeded? Would the thinking atom survive,--would it become the -nothing that it was? - -The aspect of the chamber was not one to dispel the gloomy visions that -haunted him. It was scantily furnished in the crude style of the tenth -century, with massive tables and chairs. A curious tapestry of eastern -origin, representing some legend of the martyrs, divided it from an -adjoining cabinet serving at once as an oratory and sleeping apartment. -A low fire, burning in the chimney to dispel the miasmas of the marshes, -shed a crimson glow over the chamber and its lonely inmate. - -For a long time those who watched before his door heard him walk -restlessly up and down. At last weariness came over him and he threw -himself exhausted into a chair. Then the haunting memory of Stephania -conjured up before his half-dreaming senses an alluring, shimmering Fata -Morgana--a castle on one of those far-away Apulian head-lands, with -their purpling hills in the background and the scent of strange flowers -in the air. On many a summer morning they should walk hand in hand -through the Laburnum groves, and find their love anew. But the amber -sheen of the landscape faded into the violet of night. The vision faded -into nothingness. A peal of thunder reverberated through the -heavens,--Otto started with a moan, rose, and staggered to his couch. - -[Illustration: "The haunting memories of Stephania."] - -He closed his eyes; but sleep would not come. - -Where was she now? Where was Stephania? Weeks had passed, since they -had last met. It seemed an eternity indeed! He should have remained in -Rome, till he was assured of her fate! She had left him with words of -hatred, of scorn, bitter and cruel. And yet! How gladly he would have -saved the man, his mortal enemy, forsooth, had it lain in his power. -Gladly?--No! The man who had thrice forsworn, thrice broken his faith, -deserved his doom. Now he was dead. But Rome was lost. What mattered -it? There was but one devouring thought in Otto's mind. Where was -Stephania? The mad longing for her became more intense with every -moment. Now that the worst had come to pass, now that the stunning blow -had fallen, he must rouse himself, he must rally. He must combat this -fever, which was slowly consuming him; he must find her, see her once -more on earth, if but to tell her how he loved her, her and no other -woman. Would the pale phantom of Crescentius still stand between -them,--still part them as of yore? Not if their loves were equal. His -hands were stainless of that blood. On the morrow he would despatch -Haco to Rome. Surely some one would have seen her; surely some one knew -where the wife of the Senator of Rome was hiding her sorrow,--her grief. - -The dim light of the ceremonial lamp, which burned with a dull, veiled -flame before an image of the crucified Christ, flickered, as if fanned -by a passing breath. - -There was deep silence in the king's bed-chamber, and the drawn tapestry -shut out every sound from without. - -Noiselessly a secret panel in the wall opened behind Otto's couch. -Noiselessly it closed in the gray stone. Then an exquisite white hand -and arm were thrust through the draperies and the lovely face of -Stephania beamed on the sleeping youth. She was pale as death, but the -transparency of her skin and the absolute perfection of her form and -features made her the image of an Olympian Goddess. Her dark hair, -bound by a fillet of gold, enhanced the marble pallor of the exquisite -face. - -Never had the wonderful eyes of Stephania seemed so full of fire and of -life. Stooping over the sleeper, she softly encircled his head with her -snowy arms and pressed a long kiss on the dry, fevered lips. - -With a moan Otto opened his eyes. For a moment he stared as if he faced -an apparition from dream-land.--His breath stopped, then he uttered a -choked outcry of delirious joy, while his arms tightly encircled the -head which bent over him. - -"At last! At last! At last! Oh, how I have longed, how I have pined -for you! Stephania--my darling--my love--tell me that you do not hate -me--but is it you indeed,--is it you? How did you come here--the -guards,--Eckhardt,--" - -He paused with a terrible fear in his heart, ever and ever caressing the -dark head, the beloved face, whose eyes held his own with their magnetic -spell. She suffered his kisses and caresses while stroking his damp -brow with soothing hand. Then with a grave look she enjoined silence and -caution, crept to the door of the adjoining room and locked it from -within. - -"They guard you so well, not a ghost could enter," she said with the -sweet smile of by-gone days. - -He arose and drew the curtains closer. Then he sat down by her side. - -"How came you here, Stephania?" he whispered with renewed fear and -dread. "If you are discovered,--God have mercy on you,--and me!" - -She shook her head. - -"I have followed you hither from Rome,--I passed you on the night of -your flight. Count Tammus, the commander of Paterno, at one time the -friend of the Senator of Rome, has offered me the hospitality of the -castelio. No one knows of my presence here, save an old monk, who -believes me some itinerant pilgrim, in search of the End of Time," she -whispered with her far-away look. "The End of Time." - -"They say it is close at hand," Otto replied, holding her hands tightly -in his. "Oh, Stephania, how beautiful you are! That which has broken my -spirit, seems not to have touched your life!" - -"My life is dead," she replied. "What remains,--remains through you. -Therefore time has lacked power. But that which has been and is no -more, stands immovable before my soul." - -He gazed at her with large fear-struck eyes. - -"Then--your heart is no longer mine?" - -The grasp of the hands in his own tightened. - -"Would I be here, silly dreamer? I love you--my heart knows no change. -It loved but once--and you!" - -All the happiness, slumbering in the deep eyes of the son of Theophano, -burst forth as in a glorious aureole of light. - -"Then you have never--" - -She raised her hand forbiddingly. - -"I could not give to him who is gone that which I gave to you! When we -first met I was your foe. I hated you with all the hate which a Roman -has for the despoiler of his lands. When I gave you my love,--which, -alas, was not mine to give, I did so, a powerless instrument of Fate. -Side by side have we trod life's narrow path,--neither of us could turn -to right or left without standing accounted to the other. It was not -ours to say love this one or that other. We were brought together by -that same mysterious force, to which it is vain to cry halt. We -knew,--I knew,--that it must, sooner or later, carry us to doom and -death; but resistlessly the whirlwind had taken us up in its glistening -cloud: Thus are we lost;--you and I!" - -He listened to her with a great fear in his soul. - -"How cold your hands are, my love," he whispered. "Cold as if the flow -of blood had ceased. Can you feel how it rushes through my veins,--so -hot--so boiling hot?" - -"You have the fever! Therefore my hands appear cold to you. But,--you -spoke truly,--in my hand is death,--and death is cold! Life I have -none,--you have taken it from me!" - -"Stephania!" - -It sounded like the last outcry of a broken heart. - -"Why recall that which could not be averted? Were it mine to change it, -oh, that I could!" - -"Do you really wish it?" - -"I wish but your happiness. Can you doubt?" - -"I do not doubt. I love you!" - -"Stephania--my darling,--my all!" - -And he kissed her eyes, her lips, her hair, and she suffered his -caresses as one wrapt in a blissful dream. - -"I learned you were stricken with the fever,--the last defence left to -us by nature against our foes. I have come, to watch over you, to care -for you,--to nurse you back to health,--to life--" - -"And you braved the dangers that beset your path on every turn?" - -"How should I fear,--with such love in my heart for you!" - -"Then you--will remain?" he whispered, his very life in his eyes. - -"For a time," she answered, in a halting tone, which passed not -unremarked. - -"And then?" he queried. - -Her head sank. - -"I know not!" - -"Then I will tell you, my own love! We will return to Rome together, -you and I; Stephania, the empress of the West,--would not that reconcile -your Romans,--appease their hate?" - -Stephania gazed for a moment thoughtfully at Otto, then she shook her -head. - -"I fear," she replied after a pause, "we shall nevermore return to -Rome." - -As she spoke, her soft fingers stroked caressingly the youth's head, -which rested on her bosom, while her right hand remained tightly clasped -in his. - -"I do not understand you," he said with a pained look. - -"Do not let us speak of it now," she replied. "You are ill;--the fever -burns in your blood. It likes you well, this Roman fever,--and yet you -persist in returning hither ever and ever,--as to your destiny--" - -"You are my destiny, Stephania! I cannot live without you! Had you not -come, I should have died! God, you cannot know how I love you, how I -worship you, how I worship the very air you breathe. Stephania! On -that terrible, never-to-be-forgotten day, when your words planted death -in my heart, he, who of all my Saxons hates you with a hatred strong and -enduring as death, warned me of you! 'Must you love a Roman,' he said -to me--'and of all Romans, Stephania, the wife of the Senator? Once in -the toils of the Sorceress, you are lost! Nothing can save you.'--Can I -say to my heart, you shall love this one,--or you shall not love this -one? Shall I say to my soul, you shall harbour the image of this one, -but that other shall be to you even as a barred Eden, guarded by the -angel with the flaming sword? I have seen the maidens of my native -land; I have seen the women of Rome;--but my heart was never touched -until we met. My soul leaped forth to meet your own, when first we -stood face to face in the chapel of the Confessor. Stephania,--my love -for you is so great that I fear you." - -"And why should you fear me? Were I here, did I not love you?" - -"My life has been a wondrous one," he spoke after a pause. "From -dazzling sun-kissed heights I have been hurled into the blackest abyss -of despair. And what is my crime? Wherein have I sinned? I have loved -a woman,--a woman wondrous fair,--Stephania!" - -"You have loved the wife of the Senator of Rome!" - -His eyes drooped. For a time neither spoke. - -"Thrice have I crossed the Alps, to see, to rule this fabled land,--and -now I want but rest,--peace,--Stephania--" he said with a heart-breaking -smile. - -"You are tired, my love," replied the beautiful Roman. "From this hour, -I shall be your leech,--I shall be with you, to share your solitude,--to -watch over you till the dread fever is broken. And then--" - -"And then?" he repeated with anxious look. - -"But will you not weary of me?" she said, avoiding the question. - -He drew her close to him. - -"My sweetheart---my own--" - -"And you will not fear, you will trust and obey me?" - -"Were you to give me poison with your own hands, I would drain the -goblet without fear or doubt." - -Stephania had arisen. She was pale as death. - -"If love were all!" she muttered. "If love were all!" - -Then she drew the curtains closer and extinguished the light. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *THE CONSUMMATION* - - -Some weeks had elapsed since Otto's arrival at Paterno. But the fever -which consumed the son of Theophano had not yielded to the skill of the -monkish mediciners, though a change for the better had been noticed -after the first night of the King's arrival. But it lasted only a short -time and all the danger symptoms returned anew. The monks shook their -heads and the hooded disciples of Aesculapius conversed in hushed -whispers, regarding the strange ailment, which would not cede before -their antidotes. But they continued their unavailing efforts to save -the life of the last of the glorious Saxon dynasty, the grandson of the -vanquisher of the Magyars, the son of the vanquisher of the Saracens. - -It was a bleak December evening. - -At sunset a mist rose from the fields and the clouds grew heavier with -every hour. The rain-drops hung on the branches of the plane-trees, -until an occasional stir sent them pattering down. - -Otto lay within, asleep. - -In the door-way sat Eckhardt, muffled in a cloak. Near-by, half -recumbent under a blanket, the cowl drawn over his face, sat the leech, -his eyes fixed upon the log-fire on the hearth, as it sent showers of -sparks into the murky darkness. In their search for fire-wood the monks -had brought from the edge of a neighbouring mill-pond the debris of a -skiff, whose planks had for years been alternately soaked in water and -dried in the sun. When tossed upon the blaze of forest branches, these -fragments emitted an odour sweet as oriental spices and their flames -brightened with prismatic tints. But to the leech's brooding gaze their -lurid embers seemed touched with the spell of some unholy incantation. - -Without the sick-chamber two sentries, chilled and drowsy, leaned -against a column supporting the low vaulting, their halberds clasped -between their folded arms. - -After a pause of some duration, Eckhardt arose and entering Otto's -chamber bent over the couch on which he lay. After having convinced -himself by the youth's regular breathing that he was resting and did not -require his attendance, the Margrave strode from the sick-chamber. The -fever was intermittent; now it came, now it left the youth's body. But -the pale wan face and the sunken eyes gave rise to the gravest fears. - -Night came swiftly and with it the intense hush deepened. Only the -pattering of rain-drops broke the stillness. In the sick-chamber -nothing was to be heard save the regular breathing of the sleeper. - -Thus the hours wore on. After the monk and Eckhardt had departed for -the night, the secret panel opened noiselessly and Stephania entered the -apartment with a strange expression of triumph and despair in her look. -She glanced round, but her eyes passed unheedingly over their -surroundings; she saw only that there was no one in the chamber, that no -one had seen her enter. There was something utterly desperate in that -glance. Noiselessly she stepped to the narrow oval window gazing out -into the mist-veiled landscape. - -But it seemed without consciousness. - -A single thought seemed to have frozen her brain. - -She stepped to Otto's couch and for a moment bent over him. - -Then she retreated, as if seized with a secret terror. - -For a few moments she stood behind him, with closed eyes, her face -almost stony with dread and the fear of something unknown. - -Near the bed there stood a pitcher which the monks replenished every -evening with water cold from a mountain spring. Approaching it, she -took a powder from her bosom and shook it into it, every grain. Then -she turned the pitcher round and round, to mix the fine powder, which -stood on the surface. Suddenly she started, and set it down, while -scalding tears slowly coursed down her pale cheeks. Desperate thoughts -crowded thickly on her brain, as her stony gaze was riveted on the -water, whose crystal clearness had not been clouded by the subtle -poison. - -"Between us stands the shade of Crescentius," she muttered. "Still I can -not cease to love him,--each bound to each,--together, yet perpetually -divided,--our love a flower that the hand of death will gather." - -Again there was a long, intense hush. She crept to Otto's bed and knelt -down by his side, hiding her wet face on her bare arms. - -"When he is dead," she continued speaking softly, so as not to wake him, -"the unpardonable sin will be condoned.--Otto, Otto,--how I love -you,--if I loved you less,--you might live--" - -At these words he stirred in the cushions. A deep sigh came from his -lips, as if the mountain of a heavy dream had been lifted from his -breast. - -She drew back terrified, but noting that he did not open his eyes, she -spoke with a moan of weariness: - -"How often thus in my dreams have I seen his dead face--" - -Again she bent over the sleeper. Now she could not discern a breath. A -strange dread seized her, and her face became as wan and haggard as that -of the fever-stricken youth. Obeying a sudden impulse she removed the -pitcher of water, placing it in a remote niche. Then she crept back to -Otto's couch. - -"Is he dead?" she whispered, as if seized by a strange delirium. "Is he -dead? I know not,--yet none knows,--but I! None,--but I!" - -She gave a start, as if she had discovered a listener, glanced wildly -about the room, at each familiar object in the chamber, and met Otto's -eyes. - -She raised herself with a gasp of terror, as he grasped her hand. - -"Who is dead?" he asked. "And who is it, that alone knows it?" - -She stroked the soft fair hair from his clammy brow. - -"You are delirious, my love," she whispered. "No one is dead;--you have -been dreaming." - -"I thought I heard you say so," he replied wearily. - -The horror and bewilderment at his awakening at this moment of all, when -she required all her strength for her purpose, left her dazed for a -moment. - -The clock struck the second hour after midnight. The sound cut the air -sharply, like a stern summons. It seemed to demand: Who dares to watch -at this hour of death? - -Otto had again closed his eyes. Delirium had regained its sway. He was -whispering, while his fingers scratched on the cover of his couch, as if -he were preparing his own grave. - -Again he relapsed into a fitful slumber, filled with dreams and visions -of the past. - -He stands at the banks of the Rhine. The night is still. The moon is -in her zenith, her yellow radiance reflected in the calm majestic tide -of the river. He hears the sighing, droning swish of the waters; the -sinuous dream-like murmuring of the waves resolving into tinkling -chimes, far-away and plaintive, that steal up to him in the moon mists, -ravishing his soul. In cadenced, languorous rhythm the song of the -Rhine-daughters weeps and wooes through the night; their shimmering -bodies gleam from the waters in a silvery sphere of light; they seem to -beckon to him--to call to him--to lure him back-- - -"Home! Home!" he cries from the depths of his dream; then his voice -becomes inarticulate and sinks into silence. - -New phantoms crowded each other, a shifting phantasmagoria of the very -beings who at that dreadful hour were most vividly fixed in his mind. -And among them stood out the image of the woman, who was kneeling at his -side, the woman he loved above all women on earth. Again his lips -moved. He called her by name, with passionate words of love. - -"Let me not die thus, Stephania! Leave me not in this dreary abyss! -Oh! Drive away those infernal spectres that stare in my face," and his -words became wild and confused, as all these phantoms seemed to rush on -him together, forming lurid groups, flaming and tremulous, like -prolonged flashes of lightning, but growing fainter and fainter as they -died away, when every faculty of the young sufferer seemed utterly -suspended. - -Dark clouds passed over the moon. - -The wind blew in fierce gusts, howling like an imprisoned beast between -the chinks of the wall. Then the night relapsed once more into silence, -and in intermittent pauses large drops of rain could be heard, splashing -from the height of the roof upon the ringing flagstones. To Stephania's -listening ear it seemed like a dreadful pacing to and fro of spirits -meditating on the past. She dragged herself to a seat in a recess of -the wall, whence she could watch the sufferer and minister to his wants. - -Another fit of delirium seized Otto. Restlessly he tossed on his -pillows. Again a dream murmured his own impending fate into his ears. - -Again he is in Aix-la-Chapelle. Again he beholds Charlemagne seated -erect in his chair as in that memorable night when he visited the dead -emperor in the crypts. He touches the imperial vestments; the crown -glitters in the smoky flare of the torches. But through the heavy -Arabian perfumes of the emperor's fantastic shroud penetrates the odour -of the corpse. - -The night wore on. - -Recovering consciousness, Otto knew by the dying candle, by the strokes -of the clocks from adjacent cloisters, that hours had passed into -eternity, and that it was long past midnight. It was very still. The -tread of the sentries was no longer heard. Through the window were seen -pale blue flashes of lightning in a remote cloudbank, as on that -memorable night in the temple of Neptune at Rome. The dull rumbling of -distant thunder seemed to come from the bowels of the earth. - -His head ached, his mouth was parched, thirst tormented him. He dimly -remembered the pitcher of water. Who had removed it? Why had it been -taken away? He tried to rise, to drag himself to the wall, but his -strength was not equal to the task. He fell back in the cushions where -for a time he lay motionless. Then a moan broke from his lips, which -startled the figure seated by the bed. Opening his eyes Otto gazed into -the pale face of Stephania. She started up with a low cry,--as from a -trance. Waking and watching had benumbed her senses. - -Now from her own suffering she lifted to Otto her face, wherein was -reflected the great love she bore him. - -He looked at her with all the love of his soul in his eyes. - -"I am dying," he spoke calmly, "I know it." - -An outcry of mortal anguish broke from her lips. - -"No, no, no!" she moaned, entwining him with her arms. "Otto, my -love--you will live,--live--live-- Can you fancy us parted," she -sobbed, "one from the other for ever? Or can you go from me and leave me -to the great loneliness of the world? To me all on earth, but you, -seems a fleeting shadow; but in this hour, I think only of the greater -pang of my own fate, and pray that in another world I may be judged more -mercifully,--even by you." - -For some moments they remained locked in close embrace. - -"Kiss me!" he whispered hungrily. "Kiss me, Stephania!" - -She drew back. - -"My kisses are cold, Otto, cold as those of a dead love." - -"Kiss me, Stephania," he moaned, "kiss me, even if your kisses were -death itself." - -She breathed hard, as he held to her with all his might. - -"A dead hand is drawing me downward, hold me up, Otto!" she gasped. -"Hold me up! Do not let me go! Do not let me go!" - -And she kissed him, until he was almost delirious, drawing him close to -her heart. - -"Now you are mine--mine--mine!" she whispered, kissing him again and -again, while his fingers were buried in the soft, silken wealth of her -hair. - -"The hour is brief,--life is short and uncertain--oh, let the hour be -ours! Let us drain the glittering goblet to the dregs! Then we may -cast it from us and say we have been happy! Death has no terror for us! -I am thirsty, Stephania,--give me the pitcher." - -She trembled in every limb. - -"Do not let me go! Hold me, Otto,--do not let me go!" she almost -shrieked, entwining him so tightly with her arms that he could scarcely -breathe. - -"I feel the fever returning--the water--Stephania--" - -"Do not let me go!" she begged with mortal dread. - -"I am burning up." - -He struggled in her arms to rise, gasping: - -"Water--Water!" - -And he pointed to the niche, where he had espied the pitcher. - -She almost dropped him, as raising himself he pushed her from him. Her -head swam giddily and she felt a feebleness in all her limbs; shudders -of icy cold ran through her, followed by waves of heat, that sickened -and suffocated her. But she paid little heed to these sensations. -Stephania felt death in her heart, she strove to sustain herself, but -failing in the effort, fell moaning across his couch. - -Otto had fallen back on his pillows with eyes closed. He was spared the -sight of the terrible agony of the woman he loved. At last she clutched -the pitcher and staggering feebly forward, step by step, she pushed back -her hair from her brows and softly called his name. - -He opened his eyes, but did not speak. - -Trembling in every limb she bent over him and placing one hand under his -head raised him to a sitting posture, glancing fear-struck round the -chamber. She thought she had heard the tread of approaching steps. - -Greedily Otto grasped the vessel, pressing his hot hands over the -woman's which held it to his lips. Greedily he drank the poisoned -beverage, while a heart-breaking moan came from Stephania's lips. He -heard it not. He sank back into the cushions, while she knelt down by -his side, weeping as if her heart would break. - -The Senator of Rome was avenged. - -Avenged? On whom? Whose tortures were the greater, if a spirit still -possessed the power to suffer? Alas! It was not the death of her lord -and husband she had avenged! She had sacrificed the love which filled -her heart to the Infernals! - -While these reflections were whirling through her maddened brain, the -fatal poison was coursing serpent-like through Otto's veins, and -creeping to his head. For a time he lay still; then he began to move -uneasily in his pillows, his breathing became laboured, he beat the -covers with his hands. Then he moaned, as in the last agony, and -Stephania, to whom every sound of suffering from his lips was as a -thousand deaths, knelt by his side, unable to avert her gaze from the -youth, dying by the hand he loved and trusted. - -Fixedly she stared at the inert form on the bed. Then only the full -realization of her deed seemed to burst upon her brain. She clutched -despairingly at the cover, beneath which lay his restless form, his face -averted, the face she so loved, yet feared, to see. - -"Otto!" she moaned, "Otto!" - -Her voice broke. She suddenly withdrew her hands and looked at them in -horror, those white, beautiful hands, that had mixed the fatal draught. -Then with a bewildered, vacant smile she beamed on her victim. - -Otto had lost consciousness. Nothing stirred in the chamber. Profound -silence reigned unbroken, save for the slow chime of a distant bell, -tolling the hour. - -Was he dead? Had the light of the eyes, she loved so well, gone out for -ever? - -Her hand hovered fearfully above him, as if to drive away the grim -spectre of death. At last, nerving herself with a supreme effort, she -touched with trembling hand the cover that hid him from view. Lifting -it tearfully, she turned it back softly,--softly, murmuring his name all -the time. - -Then she stooped down close, and closer yet. Her red lips touched the -purple ones; she stroked the damp and clammy brow, and thrust her -fingers into his soft hair. A moan came from his lips. Then, fastening -her white robe more securely about her, and stepping heedfully on -tip-toe, she passed out of the chamber. With uncertain step she glided -along the corridor, a ghostly figure, with a white, spectral face and -fevered eyes. At the foot of the spiral stairway she paused, gazing -eagerly around. - -Stepping to a low casement she peered into the night. Flickering lights -and shadows played without; the late moon had disappeared, leaving but a -silvery trail upon the sky, to faintly mark her recent passage among the -stars. Everything was still. Only the plaintive cry of an owl echoed -from afar. Her sandalled feet sounded on the stone-paved floor, like the -soft pattering of falling leaves in autumn. Unsteadily she moved along -the gray discoloured wall towards the secret panel, known but to -herself. Soon her perplexed wandering gaze found what it sought, and -Stephania disappeared, as if the stones had receded to receive her. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *THE ANGEL OF THE AGONY* - - -The morning of the following day broke hazy and threatening. But as the -hours wore on, the sky, which had been overcast, brightened slowly and -in that instant's change the earth became covered with a radiance of -sunshine and the heavens seemed filled with ineffable peace. - -It was late in the day, when Otto woke from his lethargy. Hour after -hour he had raved without recovering consciousness. His breathing grew -weaker. He was thought to be in his last agony. Little by little the -vigour of his youth had reasserted itself, little by little he had -opened his eyes. His sight had become dimmed from the effects of the -poison, and his reason seemed to sway and to totter; the fevered flow of -blood, the wild beating of his temples, caused everything around him to -scintillate in a crimson haze and flit before his vision with fitful -dazzling gleams. But his eyes seemed fixed steadily in a remote recess -of the room. - -Those surrounding his couch had believed him nearing dissolution, and -when he opened his eyes, Otto looked upon the faces of those who had -guided his steps ever since he set his foot upon Italian soil, Eckhardt, -Count Tammus, and Sylvester, the silver-haired pontiff who had come from -Rome. Their faces told him the worst. He attempted to raise himself in -his cushions, but his strength failed him, and he fell heavily back. -Anew his ideas became confused and his gaze resumed its former -fixedness. - -His lips moved and Eckhardt, who bent over him, to listen, turned white -with rage. - -"Again her accursed name," he growled, turning to the monk by his side. - -"Stephania--where is Stephania?" moaned the dying youth. - -A voice almost a shriek rent the silence. - -"I am here,--Otto,--I am here!" - -A shadow passed before the eyes of the amazed visitors in the -sick-chamber, a shadow which seemed to come out of the wall itself, and -the wife of the Senator of Rome staggered towards Otto's couch, who made -a feeble effort to stretch out his hands toward her. He could not raise -them. They were like lead. She rushed to his side, ere Eckhardt could -prevent, and with a sob fell down before the couch and grasped them -tightly in her own. - -The petrified amazement, which had pictured itself in the features of -those assembled, at the unexpected apparition, gave vent to a flurry of -whispers and conjectures during which Eckhardt, with face drawn and -white and haggard, had rushed through the outer chamber to the door. - -"Guards!" he thundered, "Guards!" - -Two spearmen appeared in the doorway. - -"Seize this woman and throw her over the ramparts!" the Margrave said -with a voice whose calm formed a fearful contrast to the blazing fury in -his eyes. - -The men-at-arms approached with hesitation, but Sylvester barred their -progress with uplifted arm. - -"Vengeance is the Lord's!" he turned to Eckhardt, whose eyes, aflame -with wrath, seemed the only living thing in his stony face. - -A terrible laugh broke from the Margrave's lips. - -"His mad pleadings saved her once! Now, all the angels in heaven and -demons in hell combined shall not save her from her doom!" he replied to -the Pontiff. "Seize her, my men! She has killed your king! Over the -ramparts with her!" - -They dared deny obedience no longer. Approaching the couch they laid -hands on the kneeling woman. But the sight of violence for a moment so -incensed the prostrate form in the cushions, that he started up, as he -had done in the vigour of his health. - -With eyes glowing with fever and wrath, Otto leaped from the bed, -planting himself before the prostrate form of the woman. - -"Back!" he cried. "The first who lays hand on her dies by my hand, a -traitor! Down on your knees before the Empress of the Romans!" - -Terror and amazement accomplished Stephanie's salvation. - -Even Eckhardt was stunned. He knelt with the rest with averted face. - -"Leave the room!" Otto turned to the men-at-arms, and with heads bowed -down they strode from the sick chamber and resumed their watch outside. -What did it all mean? The presence of the Senator's wife at their -sovereign's bedside, Eckhardt's contradictory demeanour, Otto's strange -words; mystified they shook their heads, glad the terrible task had been -spared them. - -Otto's exertion was followed by a complete collapse, and he fell back in -a swoon. After a time he seemed to rally. Without assistance he sat up -straight and rigid, and turned towards the woman, whose wan face and -sunken eyes made her fatal beauty all the more terrible. - -"Tell me--shall I live till night?" he whispered. - -And as she hid her face from him with a sob, he continued: - -"Do not deceive me! I am not afraid!" - -His voice broke. Every one in the room knelt down weeping. Sylvester -tried to answer, but in vain. Hiding his face in his hands, the pontiff -sobbed aloud. - -"Softly--softly--" Otto whispered to Stephania, then turning towards the -sky he whispered: - -"How beautiful!" - -The morning clouds were growing rosy; the twilight had become warm and -mellow. The first beam of the sun appeared over the rim of the horizon. -The dying youth held his face with closed eyes towards the light. A -faint shiver ran through his body and with a last effort he stretched -out his arms, as if he would have rushed to meet the rising orb. - -Suddenly he was seized by a convulsion; the veins swelled on neck and -temples. - -"Water--water!" he gasped choking. - -Stephania knew the symptoms. Pale as death she staggered to her feet, -filled a cup with clear spring water and held it to his lips. - -Otto, grasping her hand with the cup, drank thirstily from the ice-cold -draught. - -Then his head fell back. A last murmur came from his half-open lips: - -"Stephania,--Stephania--" - -Then his life went out. With a moan of heart-rending anguish she closed -his eyes. The face of the youth, kissed by the early rays of the -December sun, took on a look as of one sleeping. His soul, freed from -earthly love, had entered on its eternal repose. - -Johannes Crescentius was avenged. - -Eckhardt had watched the last moments of his king. In the awful -presence of Death, he had restrained a new outburst of passion against -the woman, who had so utterly made that dead youth her own. But he had -sworn a terrible oath to himself, that she should pay the penalty, if -that life went out,--it would be cancelling the last debt he owed on the -accursed Roman soil. - -And no sooner had the light faded from Otto's eyes, no sooner had they -been closed under the soft touch of Stephania's hand, than Eckhardt -rushed anew to the door and the terrible voice of the Margrave thundered -through the stillness of the death-chamber: - -"Guards! Throw this woman over the ramparts! She has killed your -King!" - -Again the guards rushed into the chamber. The terrible denunciation had -stirred their zeal. Stephania, kneeling by Otto's couch, never stirred, -but as the men-at-arms, over-awed by the spectacle that met their gaze, -paused for a moment, the sound of falling crystal, breaking on the -floor, startled the silver-haired pontiff. - -He had seen enough. - -Stepping between Stephania and her would-be slayers he waved them back. - -Then he picked up a fragment of the empty flask. - -"This phial," he spoke to Eckhardt, "is of the same shape and size as -one discovered in a witch's grave, when they were digging the -foundations for the monastery of St. Jerome!" - -And he strode towards the woman and laid his hands on her head. - -"She will soon answer before a higher tribunal," said the monk of -Aurillac. - -"Father," she whispered, holding the hands of the corpse in her own, -while her head rested on her arms,--"I cannot see,--stoop down,--and let -me whisper--" - -"I am here, daughter, close--quite close to you." - -He inclined his ear to her mouth and listened. But though her lips -moved, no words would come. - -After a moment or two of intense stillness, she whispered, raising her -head. - -"It is bright again! They are calling me! We will go together to that -far, distant land of peace. I am with you, Otto--hold me up, I cannot -breathe--" - -Gently Sylvester lifted her head. - -"Otto,--my own love--forgive--" she gasped. A convulsive shudder passed -through her body and she fell lifeless over the dead body of her victim. - -Stephania's proud spirit had flown. - -Sylvester muttered the prayer for the departed, and staggered to his -feet. - -Eckhardt pointed to her lifeless clay. In his livid face burnt -relentless, unforgiving wrath. - -"Throw that woman over the ramparts!" he turned to his men. "She shall -not have Christian burial!" - -Anew Sylvester intervened. - -"Back!" he commanded the guards. "Judge not,--that ye may not be -judged. What has passed between those two--lies beyond the pale of -human ken. He alone, who has called, has the right to judge them! She -died absolved.--May God have mercy on her soul!" - -As weeping those present turned to leave the death-chamber, Eckhardt -bent over the still, dead face of Otto. - -"I will hold the death-watch," he turned to Sylvester. "Have the bier -prepared! To-morrow at dawn we start. We return to our Saxon-land,--we -go back across the Alps. In the crypts of Aix-la-Chapelle the grandson -of the great Otto shall rest; he shall sleep by the side of the great -emperor, whom he visited ere he came hither; Charlemagne's phantom has -claimed him at last. Rome shall not have a lock of his hair!" - -"As you say--so shall it be!" replied Sylvester, his gaze turning from -Otto to the lifeless clay of Stephania. - -Softly he raised her dead body and laid it side by side with that of -Theophano's son, joining their hands. - -"Though they shall sleep apart in distant lands, their souls are one in -the great beyond, that holds no mysteries for the departed." - -From the chapel of the cloister at the foot of the hill, stealing -through the solemn stillness of the December morning, came the chant of -the monks: - - "Quando corpus morietur, - Fac ut animae donetur - Paradisi gloria." - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *RETURN* - - -The Eve of the Millennium stood upon the threshold of Time. - -The veiled sun of midwinter was rising and his early rays filled the -blue balconies of the East with curtains of gold. From the slopes of -Paterno a strange procession was to be seen winding its way down into -the plains below. It was the remnant of the German host, carrying the -bier with the body of the third Otto towards its distant, final -resting-place. Eckhardt and Haco jointly headed the mournful cortege, -which after reaching the plain, entered the northern road. Behind them -lay Civita Castellana, the walls of the ancient citadel towering high -above the town, which lay in the centre of a net-work of deep ravines. -To their right the Sabine hills extended in long, airy lines and the -wooded heights of Pellachio and San Gennaro rose to the south-east. -Before them Viterbo with her hundred towers lay dark and frowning inside -her bristling walls; and to northward, surmounted by its mighty -cathedral dome, on a conical hill, above the great lake of Bolsena, the -gray town of Montefiascone rose out of the wintry haze. - -Continually harassed by the Romans the small band hewed their way -through their pursuers who abandoned their onslaughts only when the -Germans reached the Nera and beheld the Campanile of St. Juvenale rising -above Narni. - -Slowly the imperial cortege passed through the ancient town and was soon -lost in the purple mists, which enshrouded mountain and valley. - -Rome lay behind them, the source of their tears and sorrows. - -Onward, ever onward they rode towards the glittering crests of the Alps, -the solemn twilight of the Hercynian forest, towards the distant banks -of the Rhine and the crypts of Aix-la-Chapelle. - - - - THE END. - - - - - * * * * * * * * - - - - - *SMILES, A ROSE OF THE CUMBERLANDS* - - _*By Eliot Harlow Robinson*_ - - _Author of "Man Proposes"_ - - _Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50_ - - -Smiles is a girl that is sure to make friends. Her real name is Rose, -but the rough folk of the Cumberlands preferred their own way of -addressing her, for her smile was so bright and winning that no other -name suited her so well. - -Smiles was not a native of the Cumberlands, and her parentage is one of -the interesting mysteries of the story. Young Dr. MacDonald saw more in -her than the mere untamed, untaught child of the mountains and when, due -to the death of her foster parents a guardian became necessary, he was -selected. Smiles developed into a charming, serious-minded young woman, -and the doctor's warm friend, Dr. Bently, falls in love with her. - -We do not want to detract from the pleasure of reading this story by -telling you how this situation was met, either by Smiles or Dr. -MacDonald--but there is a surprise or two for the reader. - -_Press opinions on "Man Proposes":_ - -"Readers will find not only an unusually interesting story, but one of -the most complicated romances ever dreamed of. Among other things the -story gives a splendid and realistic picture of high social life in -Newport, where many of the incidents of the plot are staged in the major -part of the book."--_The Bookman_. - -"It is well written; the characters are real people and the whole book -has 'go.'"--_Louisville Post_. - - - - *TWEEDIE, THE STORY OF A TRUE HEART* - - _*By Isla May Mullins*_ - - _Author of "The Blossom Shop Stories," etc._ - - _Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.65_ - - -In this story Mrs. Mullins has given us another delightful story of the -South. - -The Carlton family--lovable old Professor Carlton, and his rather wilful -daughter Ruth--twenty-three years old and with decided ideas as to her -future--decide to move to the country in order to have more time to -devote to writing. - -Many changes come to them while in the country, the greatest of which is -Tweedie--a simple, unpretentious little body who is an optimist through -and through--but does not know it. In a subtle, amusing way Tweedie -makes her influence felt. At first some people would consider her a -pest, but would finally agree with the Carlton family that she was -"Unselfishness Incarnate." It is the type of story that will entertain -and amuse both old and young. - -The press has commented on Mrs. Mullins' previous books as follows: - -"Frankly and wholly romance is this book, and lovable--as is a fairy -tale properly told. And the book's author has a style that's all her -own, that strikes one as praiseworthily original throughout."--_Chicago -Inter-Ocean_. - -"A rare and gracious picture of the unfolding of life for the young -girl, told with a delicate sympathy and understanding that must touch -alike the hearts of young and old."--_Louisville (Ky.) Times_. - - - - *ONLY HENRIETTA* - - _*By Lela Horn Richards*_ - - _Author of "Blue Bonnet--Debutante," etc._ - - _Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50_ - - -Henrietta was the victim of circumstances. It was not her fault that -her father, cut off from his expected inheritance because of his -marriage, was unexpectedly thrown upon his own resources, nor that he -proved to be a weakling who left his wife and daughter to shift for -themselves, nor that her mother took refuge in Colorado far away from -their New England friends and acquaintances. Youth, however, will -overcome much, and when Richard Bently appears in the mountains, life -takes on a new interest for Henrietta. - -When her mother dies Henrietta goes to live with Mrs. Lovell, who knew -her father years ago in the little Vermont town. Mrs. Lovell determines -to do what she can to secure for Henrietta the place in society and the -inheritance that is rightfully hers. The means employed and the success -attained--but that's the story. - -"Only Henrietta" is written in the happy vein that has secured for Mrs. -Richards a host of friends and admirers, and is sure to duplicate the -earlier successes achieved for the young people by the Blue Bonnet -Series. - -"The chief charm of the book is that it contains so much of human nature -and it is a book that will gladden the hearts of many girl readers -because of its charming air of comradeship and reality."--_The -Churchman, Detroit, Mich._ - - - - *THE AMBASSADOR'S TRUNK* - - _*By George Barton*_ - - _Author of "The World's Greatest Military Spies and - Secret Service Agents," "The Mystery of the - Red Flame," "The Strange Adventures - of Bromley Barnes," etc._ - - _Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.65_ - - -Bromley Barnes, retired chief of the Secret Service, an important State -document, a green wallet, the Ambassador's trunk--these are the -ingredients, which, properly mixed, and served in attractive format and -binding, produce a draught that will keep you awake long past your -regular bedtime. - -Mr. Barton is master of the mystery story, and in this absorbing -narrative the author has surpassed his best previous successes. - -"It would be difficult to find a collection of more interesting tales of -mystery so well told. The author is crisp, incisive and inspiring. The -book is the best of its kind in recent years and adds to the author's -already high reputation."--_New York Tribune_. - -"The story is full of life and movement, and presents a variety of -interesting characters. It is well proportioned and subtly strong in -its literary aspects and quality. This volume adds great weight to the -claim that Mr. Barton is among America's greatest novelists of the -romantic school; and in many ways he is regarded as one of the most -versatile and interesting writers."--_Boston Post_. - - - - - *THE ROMANCES - OF* - - *NATHAN GALLIZIER* - - _Each, one volume, 12mo, cloth, illustrated, $2.00_ - - -Castel del Monte -The Sorceress of Rome -The Court of Lucifer -The Hill of Venus -The Crimson Gondola -Under the Witches' Moon - - - THE PAGE COMPANY - - 53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SORCERESS OF ROME *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43938 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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