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diff --git a/44827-8.txt b/44827-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 74d69c1..0000000 --- a/44827-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17644 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Under the Witches' Moon, by Nathan Gallizier - -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 www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Under the Witches' Moon - A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome - -Author: Nathan Gallizier - -Release Date: February 4, 2014 [EBook #44827] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER THE WITCHES' MOON *** - - - - -Produced by anhhuyalex, Suzanne Shell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and -bold text by =equal signs=. - - - - - - Under the Witches' Moon - - THE ROMANCES - OF - NATHAN GALLIZIER - - * * * * * - - _Each, one volume, 12mo, cloth, illustrated. - Net $1.35; carriage paid, $1.50_ - - Castel del Monte - The Sorceress of Rome - The Court of Lucifer - The Hill of Venus - The Crimson Gondola - - * * * * * - - Under the Witches' Moon - - _12mo, cloth, illustrated. Net $1.50; - carriage paid, $1.65_ - - * * * * * - - THE PAGE COMPANY - 53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, MASS. - -[Illustration: "It was that of a man coming towards her" (_See page -143_)] - - - - - - Under the - Witches' Moon - - A Romantic Tale - _of_ Mediaeval Rome - - _BY - Nathan Gallizier_ - - Author of "The Crimson Gondola," "The Hill of Venus," - "The Court of Lucifer," "The Sorceress of Rome," - "Castel del Monte," Etc. - - [Illustration] - - THE PAGE COMPANY - BOSTON MDCCCCXVII - - - _Copyright, 1917,_ - BY THE PAGE COMPANY - - _All rights reserved_ - - First Impression, October, 1917 - - THE COLONIAL PRESS - C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. - - - _"To some Love comes so splendid and so soon, - With such wide wings and steps so royally, - That they, like sleepers wakened suddenly, - Expecting dawn, are blinded by his noon. - - "To some Love comes so silently and late, - That all unheard he is, and passes by, - Leaving no gift but a remembered sigh, - While they stand watching at another gate. - - "But some know Love at the enchanted hour, - They hear him singing like a bird afar, - They see him coming like a falling star, - They meet his eyes--and all their world's in flower." - - ETHEL CLIFFORD_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - BOOK THE FIRST - - Chapter Page - - I. The Fires of St. John 3 - - II. The Weaving of the Spell 13 - - III. The Dream Lady of Avalon 20 - - IV. The Way of the Cross 30 - - V. On the Aventine 38 - - VI. The Coup 46 - - VII. Masks and Mummers 60 - - VIII. The Shrine of Hekaté 67 - - IX. The Game of Love 79 - - X. A Spirit Pageant 90 - - XI. The Denunciation 97 - - XII. The Confession 102 - - - BOOK THE SECOND - - I. The Grand Chamberlain 115 - - II. The Call of Eblis 128 - - III. The Crystal Sphere 134 - - IV. Persephoné 146 - - V. Magic Glooms 152 - - VI. The Lure of the Abyss 160 - - VII. The Face in the Panel 167 - - VIII. The Shadow of Asrael 173 - - IX. The Feast of Theodora 187 - - X. The Chalice of Oblivion 204 - - - BOOK THE THIRD - - I. Wolfsbane 221 - - II. Under the Saffron Scarf 230 - - III. Dark Plottings 240 - - IV. Face to Face 250 - - V. The Cressets of Doom 259 - - VI. A Meeting of Ghosts 269 - - VII. A Bower of Eden 279 - - VIII. An Italian Night 289 - - IX. The Net of the Fowler 299 - - X. Devil Worship 307 - - XI. By Lethe's Shores 314 - - XII. The Death Watch 323 - - XIII. The Convent in Trastevere 335 - - XIV. The Phantom of the Lateran 341 - - - BOOK THE FOURTH - - I. The Return of the Moor 351 - - II. The Escape from San Angelo 356 - - III. The Lure 367 - - IV. A Lying Oracle 377 - - V. Bitter Waters 384 - - VI. From Dream to Dream 389 - - VII. A Roman Medea 402 - - VIII. In Tenebris 413 - - IX. The Conspiracy 419 - - X. The Broken Spell 427 - - XI. The Black Mass 440 - - XII. Sunrise 453 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - Page - - "It was that of a man coming towards her." (_See page 143_) - - _Frontispiece_ - - "A strange look passed into Theodora's eyes" 83 - - "Pelting the dancing girls for idle diversion" 192 - - "Thrown her saffron scarf over the prostrate youth" 236 - - BOOK THE FIRST - - - - -UNDER THE WITCHES' MOON - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE FIRES OF ST. JOHN - - -It was the eve of St. John in the year of our Lord Nine Hundred -Thirty-Five. - -High on the cypress-clad hills of the Eternal City the evening sun had -flamed valediction, and the last lights of the dying day were fading -away on the waves of the Tiber whose changeless tide has rolled down -through centuries of victory and defeat, of pride and shame, of glory -and disgrace. - -The purple dusk began to weave its phantom veil over the ancient -capital of the Cæsars and a round blood-red moon was climbing slowly -above the misty crests of the Alban Hills, draining the sky of its -crimson sunset hues. - -The silvery chimes of the Angelus, pealing from churches and convents, -from Santa Maria in Trastevere to Santa Maria of the Aventine, began to -sing their message of peace into the heart of nature and of man. - -As the hours of the night advanced and the moon rose higher in the -star-embroidered canopy of the heavens, a vast concourse of people -began to pour from shadowy lanes and thoroughfares, from sanctuaries -and hostelries, into the Piazza Navona. Romans and peasants from the -Campagna, folk from Tivoli, Velletri, Corneto and Terracina, pilgrims -from every land of the then known world, Africans and Greeks, Lombards -and Franks, Sicilians, Neapolitans, Syrians and Kopts, Spaniards and -Saxons, men from the frozen coast of Thulé and the burning sands of -Arabia, traders from the Levant, sorcerers from the banks of the Nile, -conjurers from the mythical shores of the Ganges, adventurers from the -Barbary coast, gypsies from the plains of Sarmatia, monks from the -Thebaide, Normans, Gascons and folk from Aquitaine. - -In the Piazza Navona booths and stalls had been erected for the sale of -figs and honey, and the fragrant products of the Roman osterié. - -Strings of colored lanterns danced and quivered in the air. The fitful -light from the torches, sending spiral columns of resinous smoke into -the night-blue ether, shed a lurid glow over the motley, fantastic -crowd that increased with every moment, recruited from fishermen, -flower girls, water-carriers and herdsmen from the Roman Campagna. - -Ensconced in the shadow of a roofless portico, a relic of the ancient -Circus Agonalis, which at one time occupied the site of the Piazza -Navona, and regarding the bewildering spectacle which presented itself -to his gaze, with the air of one unaccustomed to such scenes, stood -a stranger whose countenance revealed little of the joy of life that -should be the heritage of early manhood. - -His sombre and austere bearing, the abstracted mood and far-away look -of the eyes would have marked him a dreamer in a society of men who had -long been strangers to dreams. For stern reality ruled the world and -the lives of a race untouched alike by the glories of the past and the -dawn of the Pre-Renaissance. - -He wore the customary pilgrim's habit, almost colorless from the -effects of wind and weather. Now and then a chance passer-by would -cast shy glances at the lone stranger, endeavoring to reconcile his age -and his garb, and wondering at the nature of the transgression that -weighed so heavily upon one apparently so young in years. - -And well might his countenance give rise to speculation, were it but -for the determined and stolid air of aloofness which seemed to render -futile every endeavor to entice him into the seething maelstrom of -humanity on the part of those who took note of his dark and austere -form as they crossed the Piazza. - -Tristan of Avalon was in his thirtieth year, though the hardships -of a long and tedious journey, consummated entirely afoot, made him -appear of maturer age. The face, long exposed to the relentless rays -of the sun, had taken on the darker tints of the Southland. The nose -was straight, the grey eyes tinged with melancholy, the hair was of -chestnut brown, the forehead high and lofty. The ensemble was that of -one who, unaccustomed to the pilgrim's garb, moves uneasily among his -kind. Yet the atmosphere of frivolity, while irritating and jarring -upon his senses, did not permit him to avert his gaze from the orgy of -color, the pandemonium of jollity, that whirled and piped and roared -about him as the flow of mighty waters. - -One of many strange wayfarers bound upon business of one sort or -another to the ancient seat of empire, whose worldly sceptre had long -passed from her palsied grip to the distant shores of the Bosporus, -Tristan had arrived during the early hours of the day in the feudal and -turbulent witches' cauldron of the Rome of the Millennium. - -And with him constituents of many peoples, from far and near, had -reached the Leonine quarter from the Tiburtine road, after months of -tedious travel, to worship at the holy shrines, to do penance and to -obtain absolution for real or imaginary transgressions. - -From Bosnia, from Servia and Hungary, from Negropont and the islands -of the Greek Archipelago, from Trebizond and the Crimea it came -endlessly floating to the former capital of the Cæsars, a waste drift -of palaces and temples and antique civilizations, for the End of Time -was said to be nigh, and the dread of impending judgment lay heavily -upon the tottering world of the Millennium. - -A grotesque and motley crowd it was, that sought and found a temporary -haven in the lowly taverns, erected for the accommodation of perennial -pilgrims, chiefly mean ill-favored dwellings of clay and timber, -divided into racial colonies, so that pilgrims of the same land and -creed might dwell together. - -A very Babel of voices assailed Tristan's ear, for the ancient sonorous -tongue had long degenerated into the lingua Franca of bad Latin, though -there were some who could still, though in a broken and barbarous -fashion, make themselves understood, when all other modes of expression -failed them. - -All about him throbbed the strange, weird music of zitherns and lutes -and the thrumming of the Egyptian Sistrum. The air of the summer night -was heavy with the odor of incense, garlic and roses. The higher -risen moon gleamed pale as an alabaster lamp in the dark azure of -the heavens, trembling luminously on the waters of a fountain which -occupied the centre of the Piazza Navona. - -Here lolled some scattered groups of the populace, discussing the -events of the day, jesting, gesticulating, drinking or love-making. -Others roamed about, engaged in conversation or enjoying the antics of -two Smyrniote tumblers, whose contortions elicited storms of applause -from an appreciative audience. - -A crowd of maskers had invaded the Piazza Navona, and the uncommon -spectacle at last drew Tristan from his point of vantage and caused -him to mingle with the crowds, which increased with every moment, -their shouts and gibes and the clatter of their tongues becoming -quite deafening to his ears. Richly decorated chariots, drawn by -spirited steeds, rolled past in a continuous procession. The cries of -the wine-venders and fruit-sellers mingled with the acclaim of the -multitudes. Now and then was heard the fanfare of a company of horsemen -who clattered past, bound upon some feudal adventure. - -Weary of walking, distracted by the ever increasing clamor, oppressed -with a sense of loneliness amidst the surging crowds, whose festal -spirit he did not share, Tristan made his way towards the fountain and, -seating himself on the margin, regardless of the chattering groups, -which intermittently clustered about it, he felt his mood gradually -calm in the monotony of the gurgling flow of the water, which spurted -from the grotesque mouths of lions and dolphins. - -The stars sparkled in subdued lustre above the dark, towering cypresses -which crowned the adjacent eminence of Monte Testaccio, and the -distant palaces and ruins stood forth in distinctness of splendor and -desolation beneath the luminous brightness of the moonlit heavens. -White shreds of mist, like sorrowing spirits, floated above the winding -course of the Tiber, and enveloped in a diaphanous haze the cloisters -upon St. Bartholomew's Island at the base of Mount Aventine. - -For a time Tristan's eyes roamed over the kaleidoscopic confusion which -met his gaze on every turn. His ear was assailed by the droning sound -of many voices that filled the air about him, when he was startled by -the approach of two men, who, but for their halting gait, might have -passed unheeded in the rolling sea of humanity that ebbed and flowed -over the Piazza. - -Basil, the Grand Chamberlain, was endowed with the elegance of the -effeminate Roman noble of his time. Supple as an eel, he nevertheless -suggested great physical strength. The skin was of a deep olive tinge. -The black, beady eyes were a marked feature of the countenance. -Inscrutable and steadfast in regard, with a hint of mockery and -cynicism, coupled with an abiding alertness, they seemed to penetrate -the very core of matter. - -He wore a black mantle reaching almost to his feet. Of his features, -shaded by a hood, little was to be seen, save his glittering minx-eyes. -These he kept alternately fixed upon the crowds that surged around him -and on his companion, a hunchback garbed entirely in black, from the -Spanish hat, which he wore slouched over his face, to the black hose -and sandals that encased his feet. A large red scar across the low -forehead heightened the repulsiveness of his countenance. There was -something strangely sinister in his sunken, cadaverous cheeks, the low -brow, the inflamed eyelids, and his limping gait. - -Without perceiving or heeding the presence of Tristan they paused as by -some preconcerted signal. - -As the taller of the two pushed back the hood of his pilgrim garb, as -if to cool his brow in the night breeze, Tristan peered into a face not -lacking in sensuous refinement. Dark supercilious eyes roved from one -object to another, without dwelling long on any particular one. There -was somewhat of a cynical look in the downward curve of the eyebrows, -the thin straight lips and the slightly aquiline nose, which seemed to -imbue him with an air of recklessness and daring, that ill consorted -with his monkish garb. - -Their discourse was at first almost unintelligible to Tristan. The -language of the common people had, at this period of the history of -Rome, not only lost its form, but almost the very echo of the Latin -tongue. - -After a time, however, Tristan distinguished a name, and, upon -listening more attentively, the burden of the message began to unfold -itself. - -"Why then have you ventured out of your hell-hole of iniquity, when -discovery means death or worse?" said Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. "Do -the keeps and dungeons of the Emperor's Tomb so allure you? Or do you -trust in some miraculous delivery from its vermin-haunted vaults?" - -At these words Rome's most dreaded bravo, Il Gobbo of the Catacombs, -snarled contemptuously. - -"You are needlessly alarmed, my lord. They will not look for Il Gobbo -in this company, though even a mole may walk in the shadow of a saint." - -Basil regarded the speaker with mingled pity and contempt. - -"There is room for all the world in Rome and the devil to boot." - -Il Gobbo chuckled unpleasantly. - -"Besides--folk about here show a great reverence for a holy garb--" - -"Always with fitting reservations," interposed the Grand Chamberlain -sardonically. "I have had it in mind at some time or other to relieve -the Grand Penitentiary. The good man's lungs must be well nigh bursting -with the foul air down there by the Tomb of the Apostle. He will -welcome a rest!" - -"Requiescat," chanted the bravo, imitating the nasal tone of the clergy. - -Basil nodded approval. - -"He at one time did me the honor of showing some concern in my -spiritual welfare. Know you what I replied?"-- - -The bravo gave a shrug. - -"'Father,' I said, when he urged me to confess, 'pray shrive some one -worthier than myself. But--if you must needs have a confession--I shall -whisper into your holy ear so many interesting little episodes, so many -spicy peccadillos, and--to enhance their interest--mention some names -so high in the grace of God--'" - -"And the reverend father?" - -"Looked anathema and vanished"-- - -Basil paused for a moment, after which he continued with a sigh: - -"It is too late! The Church is to be purified. Not even the pale shade -of Marozia will henceforth be permitted to haunt the crypts of Castel -San Angelo--merely for the sake of decorum. There is nothing less well -bred than memory!" - -For a moment they relapsed into silence, watching the shifting crowds, -then Basil continued: - -"Compared with this virtuous boredom the last days of Ugo of Tuscany -were a carnival. One could at least speed the travails of some one who -required swift absolution." - -"Can you contrive to bring about this happy state?" queried Il Gobbo. - -"It is always the unexpurgated that happens," Basil replied -sardonically. - -"I hope to advance in your school," Il Gobbo interposed with a smile. - -"I have long had you in mind. If you are in favor with yourself you -will become an apt pupil. Remember! He who is dead is dead and long -live the survivor." - -"In very truth, my lord, breath is the first and last thing we draw--" -rejoined the bravo, evidently not relishing the thought that death -might be standing unseen at his elbow. - -"Who would end one's days in odious immaculacy," Basil interposed -grandiloquently, "even though you will not incur that reproach from -those who know you from report, or who have visited your haunts? But -to the point. There are certain forces at work in Rome which make -breathing in this fetid air a rather cumbersome process." - -"I doubt me if they could teach your lordship any new tricks," Il Gobbo -replied, somewhat dubiously. - -The Grand Chamberlain smiled darkly. - -"Good Il Gobbo, the darkest of my tricks you have not yet fathomed." - -"Perchance then the gust of rumor blows true about my lord's palace on -the Pincian Hill?" - -"What say they about my palatial abode?" Basil turned suavely to the -speaker. - -There was something in the gleam of his interrogator's eyes that caused -Il Gobbo to hesitate. But his native insolence came to the rescue of -his failing courage. - -"Ask rather, what do they not say of it, my lord! It would require less -time to recite--" - -"Nevertheless, I am just now in a frame of mind to shudder soundly. -These Roman nights, with their garlic and incense, are apt to befuddle -the brain,--rob it of its power to plot. Perchance the recital of these -mysteries would bring to mind something I have omitted." - -The bravo regarded the speaker with a look of awe. - -"They whisper of torture chambers, where knife and screw and pulley -never rest--of horrors that make the blood freeze in the veins--of -phantoms of fair women that haunt the silent galleries--strange wails -of anguish that sound nightly from the subterranean vaults--" - -"A goodly account that ought vastly to interest the Grand -Penitentiary--were it--with proper decorum--whispered in his ear. It -would make him forget--for the time at least--the dirty Roman gossip. -Deem you not, good Il Gobbo?" - -"I am not versed in such matters, my lord," replied the bravo, ill at -ease. "Perhaps your lordship will now tell me why this fondness for my -society?" - -"To confess truth, good Il Gobbo, I did not join you merely to meditate -upon the pleasant things of life. Rather to be inspired to some -extraordinary adventure such as my hungry soul yearns for. As for the -nature thereof, I shall leave that to the notoriously wicked fertility -of your imagination." - -The lurid tone of the speaker startled the bravo. - -"My lord, you would not lay hands on the Lord's anointed?" - -Il Gobbo met a glance that made the blood freeze in his veins. - -"Is it the thing you call your conscience that ails you, or some sudden -indigestion? Or is the bribe not large enough?" - -The bravo doggedly shook his head. - -"Courage lieth not always in bulk," he growled. "May my soul burn to -a crisp in the everlasting flames if I draw steel against the Lord's -anointed." - -"Silence, fool! What you do in my service shall not burden your soul! -Have you forgotten our compact?" - -"That I have not, my lord! But since the Senator of Rome has favored me -with his especial attention, I too have something to lose, which some -folk hereabout call their honor." - -"Your honor!" sneered the Grand Chamberlain. "It is like the skin of an -onion. Peel off one, there's another beneath." - -"My skin then--" the bravo growled doggedly. "However--if the lord -Basil will confide in me--" - -"Pray lustily to your patron saint and frequent the chapel of the -Grand Penitentiary," replied Basil suavely, beckoning to Il Gobbo to -follow him. "But beware, lest in your zeal to confess you mistake my -peccadillos for your own." - -With these words the two worthies slowly retraced their steps in the -direction of Mount Aventine and were soon lost to sight. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE WEAVING OF THE SPELL - - -After they had disappeared Tristan stood at gaze, -puzzled where to turn, for the spectacle had suddenly changed. - -New bands of revellers had invaded the Piazza Navona, and it seemed -indeed as if the Eve of St. John were assuming the character of the -ancient Lupercalia, for the endless variety of costumes displayed -by a multitude assembled from every corner of Italy, Spain, Greece, -Africa, and the countries of the North, was now exaggerated by a wild -fancifulness and grotesque variety of design. - -Tristan himself did not escape the merry intruders. He was immediately -beset by importunate revellers, and not being able to make himself -understood, they questioned and lured him on, imploring his good -offices with the Enemy of Mankind. - -Satyrs, fauns and other sylvan creatures accosted him, diverting -their antics, when they found themselves but ill repaid for their -efforts, and leaving the solitary stranger pondering the expediency of -remaining, or wending his steps toward the Inn of the Golden Shield, -where he had taken lodging upon his arrival. - -These doubts were to be speedily dispelled by a spectacle which -attracted the crowds that thronged the Piazza, causing them to give -way before a splendid procession that had entered the Navona from the -region of Mount Aventine. - -Down the Navona came a train of chariots, preceded by a throng of -persons, clad in rich and fantastic Oriental costumes, leaping, dancing -and making the air resound with tambourines, bells, cymbals and gongs. -They kept up an incessant jingle, which sounded weirdly above the -droning chant of distant processions of pilgrims, hermits and monks, -traversing the city from sanctuary to sanctuary. - -The occupants of these chariots consisted of a number of young women in -the flower of youth and beauty, whose scant apparel left little to the -imagination either as regarded their person or the trade they plied. -The charioteers were youths, scarcely arrived at the age of puberty, -but skilled in their profession in the highest degree. - -The first chariot, drawn by two milk-white steeds of the Berber breed, -was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, with gilded spokes and trappings that -glistened in the light of a thousand colored lanterns and torches, like -a vehicle from fairyland. The reins were in the hands of a youth hardly -over sixteen years of age, garbed in a snow white tunic, but the skill -with which he drove the shell-shaped car through the surging crowds -argued for uncommon dexterity. - -Tristan, from his station by the fountain, was enabled to take in -every detail of the strange pageant which moved swiftly towards him, a -glittering, fantastic procession, as if drawn out of dreamland; and so -enthralled were his senses that he did not note the terrible silence -which had suddenly fallen upon the multitude. - -As a half-slumbering man may note a sudden brilliant gleam of sunshine -flashing on the walls of his chamber, Tristan gazed in confused -bewilderment, when suddenly his stupefied senses were aroused to hot -life and pulsation, as he fixed his straining gaze on the supreme fair -form of the woman in the first car, standing erect like a queen, -surveying her subjects. - -In the silence of a great multitude there is always something ominous. -But Tristan noted it not. Indeed he was deaf and blind to everything, -save the apparition in the shell-shaped car, as it bounded lightly over -the unevenly laid tufa of the Navona. - -Was it a woman, or a goddess? A rainbow flame in mortal shape, a spirit -of earth, air, water or fire? - -He saw before him a woman combining the charm of the girl with the -maturity of the thirties, dark-haired, exquisitely proportioned, with -clear-cut features and dark slumbrous eyes. - -She wore a diaphanous robe of pale silk gauze. Her wonderful arms, -white as the fallen snow, were encircled by triple serpentine coils -of gold. Else, she was unadorned, save for a circlet of rubies which -crowned the dusky head. - -Her sombre eyes rested drowsily on the swarming crowds, while a smile -of disdain curved the small red mouth, as her chariot proceeded through -the frozen silence. - -Suddenly her eye caught the admiring gaze of Tristan, who had indeed -forgotten heaven and earth in the contemplation of this supremest -handiwork of the Creator. A word to the charioteer and the chariot came -to a stop. - -Tristan and the woman faced each other in silence, the man with an -ill-concealed air of uneasiness, such as one may experience who finds -himself face to face with some unknown danger. - -With utter disregard for the gaping crowds which had gathered around -the fountain she bent her gaze upon him, surveying him from head to -foot. - -"Who are you?" she spoke at last, and he, confused, bewildered, -trembling, gazed into the woman's supremely fair face and stammered: - -"A pilgrim!" - -Her lips parted in a smile that revealed two rows of small white, even -teeth. There was something unutterable in that smile which brought the -color to Tristan's brow. - -"A Roman?" - -"From the North!" - -"Why are you here?" - -"For the salvation of my soul!" - -He blushed as he spoke. - -Again the strange smile curved the woman's lips, again the inscrutable -look shone in her eyes. - -"For the salvation of your soul!" she repeated slowly after him. "And -you so young and fair. Ah! You have done some little wickedness, no -doubt?" - -He started to reply, but she checked him with a wave of her hand. - -"I do not wish to be told. Do you repent?" - -Tristan's throat was dry. His lips refused utterance. He nodded -awkwardly. - -"So much the worse! These little peccadillos are the spice of life! -What is your name?" - -She repeated it lingeringly after him. - -"From the North--you say--to do penance in Rome!" - -She watched him with an expression of amusement. When he started back -from her, a strange fear in his heart, a wave of her hand checked him. - -"Let me whisper a secret to you!" she said with a smile. - -He felt her perfumed breath upon his cheek. - -Inclining his ear he staggered away from her dizzy, bewildered. - -Presently, with a dazzling smile, she extended one white hand and -Tristan, trembling as one under a spell, bent over and kissed it. He -felt the soft pressure of her fingers and his pulse throbbed with a -strange, insidious fire, as reluctantly he released it at last. - -Raising his eyes, he now met her gaze, absorbing into his innermost -soul the mesmeric spell of her beauty, drinking in the warmth of those -dark, sleepy orbs that flashed on him half resentfully, half mockingly. -Then the charioteer jerked up the reins, the chariot began to move. -Like a dream the pageant vanished--and slowly, like far-away thunder, -the voice of the multitudes began to return, as they regarded the lone -pilgrim with mingled doubt, fear and disdain. - -With a start Tristan looked about. He was as one bewitched. He felt he -must follow her at all risks, ascertain her name, her abode. - -Dashing through the crowds that gave way before him, wondering and -commenting upon the unseemly haste of one wearing so austere a garb, -Tristan caught a last glimpse of the procession as it entered the -narrow gorge that lies between Mount Testaccio and Mount Aventine. - -With a sense of great disappointment he slowly retraced his steps, -walking as in the thrall of a strange dream, and, after inquiring the -direction of his inn of some wayfarers he chanced to meet, he at last -reached the Inn of the Golden Shield, situated near the Flaminian Gate, -and entered the great guest-chamber. - -The troubled light of a melancholy dusk was enhanced by the glimmer of -stone lamps suspended from the low and dirty ceiling. - -Notwithstanding the late hour, the smoky precincts were crowded with -guests from many lands, who were discussing the events of the day. If -Tristan's wakeful ear had been alive to the gossip of the tavern he -might have heard the incident in the Navona, in which he played so -prominent a part, discussed in varied terms of wonder and condemnation. - -Tristan took his seat near an alcove usually reserved for guests of -state. The unaccustomed scene began to exercise a singular fascination -upon him, stranger as he was among strangers from all the earth, their -faces dark against the darker background of the room. Brooding over -a tankard of Falernian of the hue of bronze, which his oily host had -placed before him, he continued to absorb every detail of the animated -picture, while the memory of his strange adventure dominated his mind. - -Tristan's meagre fund of information was to be enriched by tidings of -an ominous nature. He learned that the Pontiff, John XI, was imprisoned -in the Lateran Palace, by his step-brother Alberic, the Senator of Rome. - -While this information came to him, a loyal son of the Church, as a -distinct shock, Tristan felt, nevertheless, strangely impressed with -the atmosphere of the place. Even in the period of her greatest decay, -Rome seemed still the centre of the universe. - -Thus he sat brooding for hours. - -When, with a start, he roused himself at last, he found the vast -guest-chamber well-nigh deserted. The pilgrims had retired to their -respective quarters, small, dingy cells, teeming with evil odors, heat -and mosquitoes, and the oily Calabrian host was making ready for the -morrow. - -The warmth of the Roman night and the fatigue engendered after many -leagues of tedious travel on a dusty road, under the scorching rays of -an Italian sky, at last asserted itself and, wishing a fair rest to his -host, who was far from displeased to see his guest-chamber cleared for -the night, Tristan climbed the crooked and creaking stairs leading to -the chamber assigned to him, which looked out upon the gate of Castello -and the Tiber, where it is spanned by the Bridge of San Angelo. - -The window stood open to the night air, on which floated the perfumes -from oleander and almond groves. The roofs of the Eternal City formed a -dark, shadowy mass in the deep blue dusk, and the cylindrical masonry -of the Flavian Emperor's Tomb rose ominously against the deep turquoise -of the night sky. - -Soon the events of the day and the scenes of the evening began to melt -into faint and indistinct memories. - -Sleep, deep and tranquil, encompassed Tristan's weary limbs, but in his -dreams the events of the evening were obliterated before scenes of the -past. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE DREAM LADY OF AVALON - - -Like a disk of glowing gold the sun had set upon hill -and dale. The gardens of Avalon lay wrapt in the mists of evening. Like -flowers seemed the fair women who thronged the winding paths. From -fragrant bosquets, borne on the wings of the night wind came the faint -sounds of zitherns and lutes. - -He, too, was there, mingling joyous, carefree, with the rest, gathering -the white roses for the one he loved. Dimly he recalled his delight, as -he saw her approach in the waning light through the dim ilex avenue, an -apparition wondrous fair in the crimson haze of slowly departing day, -entering his garden of dreams. With strangely aching heart he saw them -throng about her in homage and admiration. - -At last he knelt before her, kissing the white hand that lay passive -within his own. - -How wonderful she was! Never had he seen anything like her, not even -in this land of flowers and of beautiful women. Her hair was warm -as if the sun had entered into it. Her skin had the tints of ivory. -The violet eyes with the long drooping lashes seemed to hold the -memories of a thousand love thoughts. And the small, crimson mouth, so -witch-like, so alluring, seemed to hold out promise of fulfilment of -dizzy hopes and desires. - -"It is our golden hour," she smiled down at him, and the white fingers -twined the rose in her hair, wove a girdle of blossoms round her -exquisite, girlish form. - -To Tristan she seemed an enchantment, an embodied rose. Never had he -seen her so fair, so beautiful. On her lips quivered a smile, yet there -was a strange light in her eyes, that gave him pause, a light he had -never seen therein before. - -She beckoned him away from the throng. "Come where the moonlight -dreams." - -Her smile and her wonderful eyes were his beacon light. He rose to his -feet and took her hand. And away they strayed from the rest of the -crowd, far away over green lawns, emerald in the moonlight, with, here -and there, the dark shadow of a cypress falling across the silvery -brightness of their path. Little by little the gardens were deserted. -Fainter and fainter came the sounds of lutes and harps. The shadows of -the grove now encompassed them, as silently they strode side by side. - -"This is my Buen Retiro," she spoke at last. "Here we may rest--for -awhile--far from the world." - -They entered the rose-bower, a wilderness, blossoming with roses and -hyacinths and fragrant shrubs--a very paradise for lovers.-- - -The bells of a remote convent began to chime. They smote the silence -with their silvery peals. The castle of Avalon lay dark in the -distance, shadowy against the deep azure of the night sky. - -When the chimes of the Angelus had died away, she spoke. - -"How wonderful is this peace!" - -Her tone brought a sudden chill to his heart. - -As she moved forward, he dropped his wealth of flowers and held out his -hands entreatingly. - -"Dearest Hellayne," he said, "tarry but a little longer--" - -She seemed to start at his words, and leaned over the back of the stone -bench, which was covered with climbing roses. And suddenly under this -new light, sad and silent, she seemed no longer his fair companion of -the afternoon, all youth, all beauty, all light. Motionless, as if -shadowed by some dire foreboding, she stood there and he dared not -approach. Once he raised his hand to take her own. But something in her -eyes caused the hand to fall as with its own weight. - -He could not understand what stayed him, what stayed the one supreme -impulse of his heart. He did not understand what checked the words that -hovered on his lips. Was it the clear pure light of the eyes he loved -so well? Was it some dark power he wot not of? - -At last he broke through his restraint. - -"Hellayne--" he whispered low. "Hellayne--I love you!" - -She did not move. - -There was a deep silence. - -Then she answered. - -"Oh, why have you said the word!" - -What did she mean? He cried, trembling, within himself. And now he was -no longer in the moonlit rose-bower in the gardens of Avalon, but in a -dense forest. The trees meeting overhead made a night so black, that he -saw nothing, not even their gnarled trunks. - -Hellayne was standing beside him. A pale moonbeam flickered through the -interwoven branches. - -She pointed to the castle of Avalon, dim in the distance. He made a -quick forward step to see her face. Her eyes were very calm. - -"Let us go, Tristan!" she said. - -"My answer first," he insisted, gazing longingly, wistfully into the -eyes that held a night of mystery. - -"You have it," she said calmly. - -"It was no answer," he pleaded, "from lover to lover--" - -"Ah!" she replied, in her voice a great weariness which he had never -noted before. "But here are neither loves nor lovers.--Look!" - -And he looked. - -Before them lay a colorless and lifeless sea, under the arch of a -threatening sky. Across that sky dark clouds, with ever-changing -shapes, rolled slowly, and presently condensed into a vague shadowy -form, while the torpid waves droned a muffled and unearthly dirge. - -He covered his eyes, overcome by a mastering fear of that dread shape -which he knew, yet knew not. - -He knelt before her, took the hands he loved so well into his own and -pressed upon them his fevered lips. - -"I do not understand--" he moaned. - -She regarded him fixedly. - -"I am another's wife--" - -His head drooped. - -"When my eyes first met yours they begged that my love for you might -find response in your heart," he said, still holding on to those -marvellous white hands. "Did you not accept my worship?" - -She neither encouraged nor repulsed him by word or gesture. And he -covered her hands with burning kisses. After his passionate outburst -had died to silence she spoke quietly, tremulously. - -"Tristan," she began, and paused as if she were summoning courage to do -that which she must. "Tristan, this may not be." - -"I love you," he sobbed. "I love you! This is all I know! All I shall -ever know. How can I support life without you? heart of my heart--soul -of my soul?--What must I do, to win you for my own--to give you -happiness?" - -A negative gesture came in response. - -"Is sin ever happiness?" - -"The priests say not! And yet--our love is not sinful--" - -"The priests say truth." Hellayne interposed calmly. - -He felt as if an immense darkness, the chaos of a thousand spheres, -suddenly encompassed him, threatening to plunge him into a bottomless -abyss of despair. - -Then he made a quick forward step. Her face was close to his. Wide eyes -fastened upon him in a compelling gaze. - -"Tell me!" he urged, his own eyes lost in those unfathomable -wells of dreams. "When love is with you--does aught matter? Does -sin--discovery--God himself--matter?" - -With a frightened cry she drew back. - -But those steady, questioning eyes, sombre, yet aflame, compelled the -shifting violet orbs. - -"Tell me!" he urged again, his face very close to her face. - -"Naught matters," she whispered faintly, as if under a spell. - -Then her gaze relinquished his, as she looked dreamily out upon the -woods. There was absolute silence, lasting apace. It was the stillness -of a forest where no birds sing, no breezes stir. Then a twig snapped -beneath Hellayne's foot. He had taken her to his heart and, his strong -arms about her, kissed her eyes, her mouth, her hair. She suffered his -caresses dreamily, passively, her white arms encircling his neck. - -Suddenly he stiffened. His form was as that of one turned to stone. - -In the shadow of the forest beneath a great oak, hooded, motionless, -stood a man. His eyes seemed like glowing coals, as they stared at -them. Hellayne did not see them, but she felt the tremor that passed -through Tristan's frame. The mantle's hood was pulled far down over the -man's face. No features were visible. - -And yet Tristan knew that cowled and muffled form. He knew the eyes -that had surprised their tryst. - -It was Count Roger de Laval. - -The muffled shadow was gone as quickly as it had come. - -It was growing ever darker in the forest, and when he looked up again -he saw that Hellayne's white roses were scattered on the ground. Her -scarf of blue samite had fallen heedlessly beside them. He lifted it -and pressed it to his lips. - -"Will you give it to me?" he said tremulously. "That it may be with me -always--" - -There was no immediate response. - -At last she said slowly: - -"You shall have it--a parting gift--" - -He seized her hands. They lay passively within his own. - -There was a great fear in his eyes. - -"I do not understand--" - -She loosened the roses from her hair and garb before she made reply. -Silently, like dead leaves in autumn, the fragrant petals dropped one -by one to earth. Hellayne watched them with weary eyes as they drifted -to their sleep, then, as she held the last spray in her hand, gazing -upon it she said: - -"When you gave them to me, Tristan, they were sweet and fresh, the -fairest you could find. Now they have faded, perished, died--" - -He started to plead, to protest, to silence her, but she continued: - -"Ah! Can you not see? Can you not understand? Perchance," she added -bitterly, "I was created to adorn the fleeting June afternoon of your -life, and when this scarf is torn and faded as these flowers, let the -wind carry it away,--like these dead petals at our feet--" - -She let fall the withered spray, but he snatched it ere it touched the -ground. - -"I love you," he stammered passionately. "I love you! Love you as no -woman was ever loved. You are my world--my fate-- Hellayne! Hellayne! -Know you what you say?"-- - -She gazed at him, with eyes from which all life had fled. - -"I am another's," she said slowly. "I have sinned in loving you, in -giving to you my soul. And even as you stood there and held me in your -arms, it flashed upon me, like lightning in a dark stormy night--I saw -the abyss, at the brink of which we stand, both, you and I."-- - -"But we have done no wrong--we have not sinned," he protested wildly. - -She silenced him with a gesture of her beautiful hands. - -"Who may command the waters of the cataract, go here,--or go there? -Who may tell them to return to their lawful bed? I have neither power -nor strength, to resist your pleading. You have been life and love to -me, all,--all,--and all this you are to-day. And therefore must we -part,--part, ere it be too late--" she concluded with a wild cry of -anguish, "ere we are both engulfed in the darkness."-- - -And he fell at her feet as if stunned by a thunderbolt. - -"Do not send me away--" he pleaded, his voice choked with anguish. "Do -not send me from you." - -"You will go," she said softly, deaf to his prayers. "It is the supreme -test of your love, great as I know it is." - -"But I cannot leave you, I cannot go, never to see you more--" and he -grasped the cool white hands of the woman as a drowning man will grasp -a straw. - -She did not attempt, for the time, to take them from him. She looked -down upon him wistfully. - -"Would you make me the mock of Avalon?" she said. "Once my lord -suspects we are lost. And, I fear, he does even now. For his gaze has -been dark and troubled. And I cannot, will not, expose you to his -cruelty. You know him not as I do--" - -"Even therefore will I not leave you," he interposed, looking into -the sweet face. "He has not been kind to you. His pride was flattered -by your ready surrender, and your great beauty is but one of the many -dishes that go to satiate his varied appetites. Of the others you know -naught--" - -She gave a shrug. - -"If it be so," she said wearily, "so let it be. Nevertheless, I know -whereof I speak. This thing has stolen over us like a madness. And, -like a madness, it will hurl us to our doom." - -Though he had seen the dark, glowering face among the branches, he -said nothing, not to alarm her, not to cause her fear and misgiving. -He loved her spotless purity as dearly as herself. To him they were -inseparable. - -His head fell forward on her hands. Her fingers played in his soft -brown hair. - -"What would you have me do?" he said, his voice choked by his anguish. - -"Go on a pilgrimage to Rome, to obtain forgiveness, as I shall visit -the holy shrines of Mont Beliard and do likewise," she said, steadying -her voice with an effort. "Let us forget that we have ever met--that we -have ever loved,--or remember that we loved--a dream."-- - -"Can love forget so readily?" he said, bitter anguish and reproach in -his tones. - -She shook her head. - -"It is my fate,--for better--or worse--no matter what befall. As for -you--life lies before you. Love another, happier woman, one that is -free to give--and to receive. As for me--" - -She paused and covered her face with her hands. - -"What will you do?" he cried in his over-mastering anguish. - -A faint, far-off voice made reply. - -"I shall do that which I must!" - -He staggered away from her. She should not see the scalding tears that -coursed down his cheeks. But, as he turned, he again saw the dark and -glowering face, the brow gloomy as a thunder-cloud, of the Count -de Laval. But again it was not he. It was the black-garbed, lithe -stranger, the companion of the hunchback, who was regarding Hellayne -with evil, leering eyes. - -He wanted to cry out, warn her, entreat her to fly.-- - -But it was too late. - -Like a bird that watches spellbound the approach of the snake, Hellayne -stood pale and trembling--her cheeks white as death--her eyes riveted -on the evil shape that seemed the fiend. But he, Tristan, also was -encompassed by the same spell. He could not move--he could not cry out. -With a bound, swift and noiseless as the panther's, he saw the sinewy -stranger hurl himself upon Hellayne, picking her up like a feather and -disappear in the gloom of the forest. - -With a cry of horror, bathed from head to foot in perspiration, Tristan -started from his slumber. - -The moonbeams flooded the chamber. The soft breeze of the summer night -stole through the open casement. - -With a moan as of mortal pain he sat up and looked about. - -Was he indeed in Rome? - -Had it been but a dream, this echo of the past, this visualized parting -from the woman he had loved better than life? - -Was he indeed in Rome, to do as she had bid him do, not in the misty, -flower-scented rose-gardens of Avalon in far Provence?-- - -And she--Hellayne--where was she at this hour? - -Tristan stroked his clammy brow with a hot, dry hand. For a moment the -memories evoked by the magic wand of the God of Sleep seemed to banish -all consciousness of the present. He cast a fleeting, bewildered glance -at the dim, distant housetops, then fell back among his cushions, -his lips muttering the name of her who had filled his dream with her -never-to-be-forgotten presence, wondering and questioning if they -would ever meet again. Thus he tossed and tossed. - -After a time he became still. - -Once again consciousness was blotted out and the dream realm reigned -supreme. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE WAY OF THE CROSS - - -It was late on the following morning when Tristan -waked. The sun was high in the heavens and the perfumes from a thousand -gardens were wafted to his nostrils. He looked about bewildered. The -dream phantoms of the night still held his senses captive, and it was -some time ere he came to a realization of the present. In the dream of -the night he had lived over a scene in the past, conjuring back the -memory of one who had sent him on the Way of the Cross. The pitiless -rays of the Roman sun, which began to envelop the white houses and -walls, brought with them the realization of the present hour. He had -come to Rome to do penance, to start life anew and to forget. So she -had bade him do on that never-to-be forgotten eve of their parting. So -she had willed it, and he had obeyed. - -How it all flooded back to him again in waves of anguish, the memory of -those days when the turrets of Avalon had faded from his aching sight, -when, together with a motley pilgrims' throng, he had tramped the dusty -sun-baked road, dead to all about him save the love that was cushioned -in his heart. How that parting from Hellayne still dominated all other -events, even though life and the world had fallen away from him and he -had only prayer for oblivion, for obliteration. - -Yet even Hellayne's inexorable decree would not have availed to speed -him on a pilgrimage so fraught with hopelessness, that during all -that long journey Tristan hardly exchanged word or greeting with his -fellow pilgrims. It was her resolve, unfalteringly avowed, to leave the -world and enter a convent, if he refused to obey, which had eventually -compelled. Her own self-imposed penance should henceforth be to live, -lonely and heartbroken, by the side of an unbeloved consort, while -Tristan atoned far away, in the city of the popes, at the shrines of -the saints. - -At night, when Tristan retired, at dawn, when he arose, Hellayne's -memory was with him, and every league that increased the distance -between them seemed to heighten his love and his anguish. But human -endurance has its limits, and at last he was seized by a great torpor, -a chill indifference that swept away and deadened every other feeling. -There was no longer a To-day, no longer a Yesterday, no longer a -To-morrow. - -Such was Tristan's state of mind, when from the Tiburtine road he -first sighted the walls and towers of Rome, without definite purpose -or aim, drawn along, as it were, towards an uncertain goal by Fate's -invisible hand. Utterly indifferent as to what might befall among the -Seven Hills, he was at times dimly conscious of a presentiment that -ultimately he would end up his own days in one of those silent places -where all earthly hopes and desires are forever stilled. So much was -clear to him. Like the rest of the pilgrims who had wended their way to -St. Peter's seat, he would complete the circuit of the holy shrines, -kiss the feet of the Father of Christendom, do such penance as the -Pontiff should impose, and then attach himself to one party or another -in the pontifical city which held out hope for action, since the return -to his own native land was barred to him for evermore. - -How he would bear up under the ordeal he did not know. How he would -support life away from Hellayne, without a word, a message, without -the assurance that all was well with her, whether now, his own fate -accomplished, others thronged about her in love and adulation,--he knew -not. - -For the nonce he was resolved to let new scenes, new impressions sweep -away the great void of an aching heart, lighten the despair that filled -his soul. - -In approaching the Eternal City he had felt scarcely any of the -elevation of spirit which has affected so many devout pilgrims. He -knew it was the seat of God's earthly Vice-regent, the capital of the -universal kingdom of the Church. He reminded himself of this and of the -priceless relics it contained, the tombs of the Apostles St. Peter and -St. Paul, the tombs of so many other martyrs, pontiffs and saints. - -But in spite of all these memories he drew near the place with a -sinking dread, as if, by some instinct of premonition, he felt himself -dragged to the Cross on which at last he was to be crucified. - -Many a pilgrim may have seen Rome for the first time with an -involuntary recollection of her past, with the hope that for him, too, -the future might hold the highest greatness. - -Certainly no ambitious fancy cast a halo of romantic hope over the -great city as Tristan first saw her ancient walls. He felt safe enough -from any danger of greatness. He had nothing to recommend him. On the -contrary, something in his character would only serve to isolate him, -creating neither admiration nor sympathy. - -All the weary road to Rome, the Rome he dreaded, had he prayed for -courage to cast himself at the feet of the Vicar of Christ. He did not -think then of the Pope, as of one of the great of the earth, but simply -as of one who stood in the world in God's place. So he would have -courage to seek him, confess to him and ask him what it was it behooved -him to do. - -Thus he had walked on--with stammering steps, bruising his feet -against stones, tearing himself through briars--heeding nothing by the -way. - -And now, the journey accomplished, he was here in supreme loneliness, -without guidance, human or divine, thrown upon himself, not knowing how -to still the pain, how to fill the void of an aching heart. - -Would the light of Truth come to him out of the encompassing realms of -Doubt? - -When Tristan descended into the great guest-chamber he found it almost -deserted. The pilgrims had set out early in the day to begin their -devotions before the shrines. The host of the Golden Shield placed -before his sombre and silent guest such viands as the latter found most -palatable, consisting of goat's milk, stewed lamb, barley bread and -figs, and Tristan did ample justice to the savory repast. - -The heat of the day being intense, he resolved to wait until the sun -should be fairly on his downward course before he started out upon his -own business, a resolution which was strengthened by a suggestion from -the host, that few ventured abroad in Rome during the Siesta hours, the -Roman fever respecting neither rank nor garb. - -Thus Tristan composed himself to patience, watching the host upon his -duties, and permitting his gaze to roam now and then through the narrow -windows upon the object he had first encountered upon his arrival: the -brown citadel, drowsing unresponsive in the noon-tide glow, a monument -of mystery and dark deeds, the Mausoleum of the Flavian Emperor--or, as -it was styled at the period of our story, the Castle of the Archangel. - -From this stronghold, less than a decade ago, a woman had lorded it -over the city of Rome, as renowned for her evil beauty as for the -profligacy and licentiousness of her court. In time her regime had been -swept away, yet there were rumors, dark and sinister, of one who had -succeeded to her evil estate. None dared openly avow it, but Tristan -had surprised guarded whispers during his long journey. Some accounted -her a sorceress, some a thing wholly evil, some the precursor of the -Anti-Christ. And he had never ceased to wonder at the tales which -enlivened the camp-fires, the reports of her beauty, her daring, her -unscrupulous ambition. - -On the whole, Tristan's prospects in Rome seemed barren enough. Service -might perchance be obtained with the Senator, who would doubtlessly -welcome a stout arm and a true heart. This alternative failing, Tristan -was utterly at sea as to what he would do, the prescribed rounds of -obediences before the shrines and the penances accomplished. He felt as -one who has lost his purpose in life, even before he had been conscious -of his goal. - -The strange incidents of his first night in Rome had gradually faded -from Tristan's mind with the re-awakening memory of Hellayne, never -once forgotten, but for the moment drowned in the deluge of strange -events that had almost swept him off his feet. - -As the sun was veering towards the west and the lengthening shadows, -presaging dusk, began to roll down from the hills it suffered Tristan -no longer in the Inn of the Golden Shield. He strode out and made for -the heart of Rome. - -The desolate aspect of high-noon had changed materially. Tristan began -to note the evidences of life in the Pontifical City. Merchants, -beggars, monks, men-at-arms, condottieri, sbirri,--the followers of the -great feudal houses, hurried to and fro, bent upon their respective -pursuits, and above them, silent and fateful in the evening glow, -towered the Archangel's Castle, the tomb of a former Master of the -World. It reared its massive honey-colored bulk on the edge of the -yellow Tiber and beyond rose the dark green cypresses of the Pincian -Hill. Innumerable spires, domes, pinnacles and towers rose, red-litten -by the sunset, into the stilly evening air. Bells were softly tolling -and a distant hum like the bourdon note of a great organ, rose up from -the other side of the Tiber, where the multitudes of the Eternal City -trod the dust of the Cæsars into the churches of the Cross. - -Interminable processions traversed the city amidst anthems and chants, -for, on this day, masses were being sung and services offered up in the -Lateran Basilica, the Mother Church of Rome, in honor of Him who cried -in the wilderness. - -In silent awe and wonder Tristan pursued his way towards the heart of -the city. And, as he did so, the spectacle which had unfolded itself to -his gaze became more varied and manifold on every turn. - -The lone pilgrim could not but admit that the shadows of worldly -empire, which had deserted her, still clung to Rome in her ruins, even -though to him the desolation which dominated all sides had but a vague -and dreamlike meaning. - -Even at this period of deepest darkness and humiliation the world -still converged upon Rome, and in the very centre of the web sat the -successor of St. Peter, the appointed guardian of Heaven and Earth. - -The chief pagan monuments still existed: the Pantheon of Agrippa and -the Septizonium of Alexander Severus; the mighty remains of the ancient -fanes about the Forum and the stupendous ruins of the Colosseum. But -among them rose the fortress towers of the Roman nobles. Right there, -before him, dominating the narrow thoroughfare, rose the great fortress -pile of the Frangipani, behind the Arch of the Seven Candles. Farther -on the Tomb of Cæcilia Metella presented an aspect at once sinister -and menacing, transformed as it now was into the stronghold of the -Cenci, while the Cætani castle on the opposite side attracted a sort of -wondering attention from him. - -This then was the Rome of which he had heard such marvelous tales! -The city of palaces, basilicas and shrines had sunk to this! Her -magnificent thoroughfares had become squalid streets, her monuments -were crumbled and forgotten, or worse, they were abused by every -lawless wretch who cared to seize upon them and build thereon his -fortress or palace. A dismal fate indeed to have fallen to the former -mistress of the world! Far better, he thought, to be deserted and -forgotten utterly, like many a former seat of empire, far better to -be overgrown with grass and dock and nettle, to be left to dream and -oblivion than to survive in low estate as had this city on the banks of -the Tiber. - -With these reflections, engendered no less by the air of desolation -than by the occasional appearance of armed bands of feudal soldiery who -hurled defiance at each other, Tristan found himself drawn deeper and -deeper into the heart of Rome, a hotbed of open and silent rebellion -against the rule of any one who dared to lord it over the degenerate -descendants of the former masters of the world. Here representatives -of the nations of all the earth jostled one another and the poor dregs -of Romulus; or peoples of wilder aspect from Persia or Egypt, within -whose mind floated mysterious Oriental wisdom, bequeathed from the dawn -of Time. And as the scope of Tristan's observation widened, the demon -of disillusion unfolded gloomy wings over the far horizon of his soul. -And the Tiber rolled calmly on below, catching in its turbid waves the -golden sunset glow. - -Now and then he encountered the armed retinue of some feudal baron -clattering along the narrow ill-paved streets, chasing pedestrians into -adjacent doorways and porticoes and pursuing their precipitate retreat -with outbursts of banter and mirth. - -Unfamiliar as Tristan was with the factions that usurped the dominion -of the Seven Hills, the escutcheons and coats-of-arms of these -marauding parties meant little to him. Now and then however it would -chance that two rival factions clashed, each disputing the other's -passage. Then, only, did he become alive to the dangers that beset the -unwary in the city of the Pontiff, and a sudden spirit of recklessness -and daring, born of the moment, prompted the desire to plunge into -this seething vortex, if but to purchase temporary oblivion and relief. - -He faced the many dangers of the streets, loitering here and there and -curiously eyeing all things, and would eventually have lost himself, -when the mantle of night began to fall on the Seven Hills, had he not -instinctively remarked that the ascending road removed him from the -river. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -ON THE AVENTINE - - -When Tristan at last regained his bearings, he found himself among the -convents and cloisters on Mount Aventine. His eyes rested wearily on -the eddying gleam of the Tiber as it wound its coils round the base -of the Mount of Cloisters, thence they roamed among the grass and -weed-grown ruins of ancient temples and crumbling porticoes, which rose -on all sides in the silent desolation. - -Just then a last gleam of the disappearing sun touched the bronze -figure of the Archangel on the summit of Castel San Angelo, imbuing -it for an instant with a weird effect, as though the ghost of some -departed watchman were waving a lighted torch aloft in the heavens. -Then the glow faded before a dead grey twilight, which settled solemnly -over the melancholy landscape. - -The full moon was rising slowly. Round and large she hung, like a -yellow shield, on the dark, dense wall of the heavens. In the distance -the faint outlines of the Alban Hills and the snow-capped summit of -Monte Soracté were faintly discernible in the night mists. In the -background the ill-famed ruins of the ancient temple of Isis rose into -the purple dusk. The Tiber, in the light of the higher rising moon, -gleamed like a golden ribbon. The gaunt masonry of the Septizonium of -Alexander Severus was dimly rimmed with light, and streaks of amber -radiance were wandering up and down the shadowy slopes of the Mount of -Cloisters, like sorrowing ghosts bound upon some sorrowful errand. - -All sense of weariness had suddenly left Tristan. A compelling -influence, stronger than himself, seemed to urge him on as to the -fulfillment of some hidden purpose. - -Once or twice he paused. As he did so, he became aware of the -extraordinary, almost terrible stillness, that encompassed him. He felt -it enclosing him like a thick wall on all sides. Earth and the air -seemed breathless, as if in the throes of some mysterious excitement. -The stars, flashing out with the brilliant lustre of the south, were -as so many living eyes eagerly gazing down on the solitary human being -whose steps led him into these deserted places. The moon herself seemed -to stare at him in open wonderment. - -At last he found himself before the open portals of the great Church of -Santa Maria of the Aventine. From the gloom within floated the scent -of incense and the sound of chanting. He could see tapers gleaming on -the high altar in the choir. Women were passing in and out, and a blind -beggar sat at the gate. - -Moved more by curiosity than the desire for worship, Tristan entered -and uncovered his head. The Byzantine cupola was painted in vermilion -and gold. The slender pillars of white marble were banded with silver -and inlaid with many colored stones. The basins for holy water were of -black marble, their dark pools gleaming with the colors of the vault. -Side chapels opened on either hand, dim sanctuaries steeped in mystery -of incense-saturated dusk. - -The saints and martyrs in their stiff, golden Byzantine dalmaticas -seemed to endow each relic with an air of mystery. The beauty and the -mystery of the place touched Tristan's soul. As in a haze he seemed -again to see the pomp and splendor of the sanctuaries of far-away, -dream-lost Avalon. - -Tristan took his stand by one of the great pillars, and, setting his -back to it, looked round the place. There were some women in the -sanctuary, engaged in prayer. Tristan watched them with vacant eyes. - -Suddenly he became conscious that one of these worshippers was not -wholly absorbed in prayer under her hood. Two watchful eyes seemed to -consider him with a suggestiveness that no man could mistake, and her -thoughts seemed to be very far from heaven. - -Once or twice Tristan started to leave the sanctuary, but some -invisible hand seemed to detain him as with a magic hold. - -In due season the woman finished her devotions and stood with her -hood turned back, looking at Tristan across the church. Her women had -gathered about her and outside the gates Tristan saw the spear points -of her guard. Turning, with a glance cast at him over her shoulder, she -swept in state out of the church, her women following her, all save one -tall girl, who loitered at the door. - -Suddenly it flashed upon Tristan, as he stood there with his back -leaning against the pillar. Was not this the woman he had met by the -fountain, the woman who had spoken strange words to him in the Navona? - -Had she recognized him? Her eyes had challenged him unmistakably when -first they had met his own, and now again, as she left the church. They -puzzled Tristan, these same eyes. Far in their depths lurked secrets he -dreaded to fathom. Her scented garments perfumed the very aisles. - -Tristan was roused from his reverie by a woman's hand plucking at his -sleeve. By his side stood a tall girl. She was very beautiful, but her -eyes were evil. She looked boldly at Tristan and gave her message. - -"Follow my mistress," were her words. - -Tristan looked at her, his face almost invisible in the gloom. Only the -moonlight touched his hair. - -"Whom do you serve?" he replied. - -"The Lady Theodora!" came the answer. - -Tristan's heart froze within him. Theodora--the woman who had succeeded -to Marozia's dread estate! - -In order to conceal his emotions he brought his face closer to the fair -messenger, forcing his voice to appear calm as he spoke. - -"What would your mistress with me?" - -The girl glanced up at him, as if she regarded the question strangely -superfluous. - -"You are to come with me!" she persisted, touching his arm. - -Tristan's mouth hardened as he considered the message, without -relinquishing his station by the pillar. - -What was he to Theodora--Theodora to him? She was a woman, evil, -despite her ravishing beauty, so he had gathered during the days of -his journey. The spell she had cast over him on the previous evening -had vanished before the memory of Hellayne. Her sudden appearance, her -witch-like beauty had, for the time, unmanned him. The hardships and -privations of a long journey had, for the moment, caused his senses -to run rampant, and almost hurled him into the arms of perdition. Yet -he had not then known. And now he remembered how they all had fallen -away from him, as from one bearing on his person the germs of some -dread disease. The terrible silence in the Navona seemed visualized -once again in the silence which encompassed him here. Yet she was all -powerful, so he had heard. She ruled the men and the factions. In some -vague way, he thought, she might be of service to him. - -Tossed between two conflicting impulses, Tristan slowly followed the -girl from the church and, crossing the great, moonlit court that lay -without, entered the gardens which seemed to divide the sanctuary from -some hidden palace. Mulberry trees towered above the lawns, studded -with thick, ripening fruit. Weeping ashes glittered in the moonlight. -Cedars and oaks cast their shade over broad beds of mint and thyme. - -The girl watched Tristan closely, as she walked beside him, making no -effort to conceal her own charms before eyes which she deemed endowed -with the power of judgment in matters of this kind. Her mistress had -not put her trust in her in vain. She studied Tristan's race in order -to determine, whether or not he would waver in his resolve and--she -began to speak to him as they crossed the gardens with a simplicity, an -interest that was well assumed. - -"A good beginning indeed!" she said. "You are in favor, my lord! To -have seen her fair face is no small boast, but to be summoned to her -presence--I cannot remember her so gracious to any one, since--" she -paused suddenly, deliberately. - -Tristan regarded her slantwise over his shoulder, without making -response. At last, irritated, he knew not why, he asked curtly: "What -is your mistress?" - -The girl's glance wandered over the great trees and flowers that -overshadowed the plaisaunce. - -"She bears her mother's name," she replied with a shrug, "and, like her -mother, the blood that flows in her veins is mingled with the fire that -glitters in the stars in heaven, a fire affording neither light nor -heat, but serving to dazzle, to bewilder.--I am but a woman, but--had I -your chance of fortune, my lord, I should think twice, ere I bartered -it for a vow, an empty dream." - -He gave her a swift glance, wondering at her woman's wit, yet resenting -her speech. - -"You would prosper?" she queried tentatively at last, casting about in -her mind, how she might win his confidence. - -"I have business of my own," he replied, evading her question. - -She looked up at him, her eyes trembling into his. - -"How tall and strong you are! I could almost find it in my heart to -love you myself!" - -The flattery seemed so spontaneous that it would have puzzled one -possessed of greater guile than Tristan to have uncovered her cunning. -Nor was Tristan unwilling to seem strong to her; for the moment he was -almost tempted to continue questioning her regarding her mistress. - -"You may make your fortune in Rome," the girl said with a meaning smile. - -"How so?" - -"Are you blind? Do you not know a woman's ways? My mistress loves a -strong arm. You may serve her." - -"That is not possible!" - -The girl stared at him and for the moment dropped the mask of innocence. - -"What was possible once, is possible again," she said. - -Then she added: - -"Are you not ambitious?" - -"I have a task to perform that may not permit of two masters! Why are -you so concerned?" - -The question came almost abruptly. - -"I serve my lady!" she said, edging towards him. "Is it so strange a -thing to serve a woman?" - -They had left the garden and had arrived before a high stone wall that -skirted the precincts of Theodora's palace. Cypresses and bays raised -their tops above the stones. Great cedars cast deep shadows. In the -wall there was a door studded with heavy iron nails. The girl took a -key that dangled from her girdle, unlocked the door and beckoned to -Tristan to enter. - -Tristan stood and gazed. In the light of the moon which drenched all -things he saw a garden in which emerald grass plots alternated with -beds of strange-tinted orchids, flowers purple and red. At the end -of the plaisaunce there opened an orange thicket and under the trees -stood a woman clad in crimson, her white arms bare. She wore sandals of -silver, and her dusky hair was confined in a net of gold. - -As Tristan was about to yield to the overmastering temptation the -memory of Hellayne conquered all other emotions. He turned back from -the door and looked full into the girl's dark eyes. - -"You will speak to your mistress for me," he said to her, casting a -swift glance into the moonlit garden. - -The girl looked at him with a puzzled air, but did not stir. - -"What am I to say to her?" she said. - -"That I will not enter these gates!" - -"You will not?" - -"No!" He snapped curtly. - -"Fool! How you will regret your speech!" - -Her face changed suddenly like a fickle sky, and there was something in -her eyes too wicked for words. - -Without vouchsafing a reply, Tristan turned and lost himself in the -desolation of Mount Aventine. - -The night marched on majestically. - -The moon and her sister planets passed through their appointed spheres -of harmonious light and law, and from all cloisters and convents -prayers went up to heaven for pity, pardon and blessing on sinful -humanity that had neither pity, pardon nor blessing for itself, till, -with magic suddenness, the dense purple skies changed to a pearly grey, -the moon sank pallidly beneath the earth's dark rim and the stars were -extinguished one by one. - -Morning began to herald its approach in the freshening air. - -Tristan still slept on his improvised couch, a marble slab he had -chosen when he discovered that he had lost his way in the wilderness -of the Aventine. His head on his arm he lay quite still among the -flowers, wrapt in a sort of dizzy delirium in which the forms of -Theodora and Hellayne strangely intermingled, until the riddles of life -were blotted out together with the riddles of Fate. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE COUP - - -Tristan spent the greater part of the day visiting the churches and -sanctuaries, offering up prayers for oblivion and peace. His heart -was heavy within him. Like the stray leaf that has been torn from -its native branch and flutters resistlessly, aimlessly hither and -thither, at the mercy of the chance breeze, nevermore to return to -its sheltering bough, so the lone wanderer felt himself tossed about -by the waves of destiny, a human derelict without a haven where he -might escape the storms of life. Guiltless in his own conscience of -an imputed sin, in that his love for Hellayne had been pure and holy, -Tristan could find little comfort in the enforced penance, while his -hungry heart cried out for her who had so willed it. And, as with weary -feet he dragged himself through the streets of the pontifical city, he -vaguely wondered, if his would ever be the peace of the goal. In the -darkness in which he walked, in the perturbation of his mind, he longed -more than ever to open his heart to some one who would understand and -counsel and guide his steps. - -The Pontiff being a prisoner in the Lateran, Tristan's ardent wish to -confide in the successor of St. Peter had suffered a sudden and a keen -disappointment. There were but Odo of Cluny, Benedict of Soracté or -the Grand Penitentiary, holding forth in the subterranean chapel at -St. Peter's, to whom he might turn for ease of mind, and a natural -reluctance to lay bare the holiest thoughts man may give to woman, -restrained him for the nonce from seeking these channels. - -Thus three days had sped, yet naught had happened to indicate that -events would shape the course so ardently desired by Tristan. - -It was there, on one of the terraces crowning the splendid heights -of immortal Rome, with a view of the distant Sabine and Alban hills, -fading into the evening dusk, that the memory of the golden days of -Avalon returned to him in waves of anguish that almost mastered his -resolve to begin life anew under conditions that seemed insupportable. - -Again Hellayne was by his side, as in dream-forgotten Avalon. Again -side by side they wandered where the shattered columns of old grey -temples, all that remained of a sunny Greek civilization of which they -knew nothing, crowned the heights above the lazy lapping waves of the -tideless Tyrrhenian sea. There, for whole hours would they sit, the air -full of the scent of orange and myrtle; under almond trees, covered -with blossoms that sprinkled the emerald ground like rosy snowflakes, -and watch the white sails of the far feluccas that trailed the waves -in monotonous rhythm to or from the sunlit shores of Africa. The -distant headlands looked faint and dreamy, and the sparkling sea broke, -gurgling, foaming among the rocks at their feet, as it had broken at -the feet of other lovers who had sat there centuries ago, when those -shattered columns had been white in their freshness and the temples had -been wreathed with the garlands of youth. And the eternal waves said to -them what they had said to the dead and forgotten; and the fickle winds -sang to them what they had sung to the fair and the nameless, and they -stretched forth their hands, and saw but the sea and the sun. - -And they knew not the deity to whom those temple columns had been -raised, just as he knew not to whose worship those fallen columns had -been erected, nor guessed they who had knelt at the holy shrines. -And as they sat there, the man and the woman, their eyes probing the -depths of living sapphire, they would watch the restless sea-weed that -seemed to coil and uncoil like innumerable blue snakes upon a bed of -bright blue flames, and the luminous mosses that trembled like blue -stars ceaselessly towards the surface that they never, never reached. -And down there in the crystal palaces they would fancy that they saw -faces as of glancing mermen, even as the lovers of older days had seen -passing Tritons and the scaly children of Poseidon. - -And again she would croon those sad melancholy songs that came from -her lips like faint echoes of Aeolian harps. Now she flung them upon -the air in bursts of weird music, to the accompaniment of a breaking -wave, songs so passionate and elemental that they seemed the cry of -these same radiant waters when churned by the storm into fury. Or they -might have been such wailings as spirits imprisoned in old sea caves -would utter to the hollow walls, or which the ghosts of ship-wrecked -crews might send forth from the rocks where they had perished. Or again -they might suggest some earthly passion, love, jealousy, the cry of a -longing heart, till the dirge seemed to wear itself out and the soul of -the listener seemed to sail out of the tempest into bright and peaceful -waters like those that skirted dream-lost Avalon, scarcely rippled by -the faint breeze of summer, breaking in long unfurling waves among the -rocks at their feet. Thus they used to sit long hours, heart listening -to heart, soul clinging to soul, while she bared her throat to the -scent-laden breezes that fanned her and looked out on the dazzling -horizon--till a lightning flash from the clear azure splintered the -dream and broke two lives. - -For a long time Tristan gazed about, vainly trying to order his -thoughts. Could he but forget! Would but the present engulf the past!-- - -His adventure at the Church of Santa Maria of the Aventine and his -chance meeting with Theodora recurred to him at intervals throughout -the day, and he could not but admit that the reports of the woman's -beauty were far from exaggerated. Perchance, if the memory of Hellayne -had been less firmly rooted in his soul, he, too, might, like many -another, have sought solace at the forbidden fount. However, he was -resolved to avoid her, for he had seen something in the swift glance -she had bestowed upon him that discoursed of matters it behooved him to -beware of. And yet he wondered how she had received his denial, she, -whom no man had denied before. Then this memory also faded before the -exigencies of the hour. - -The sun had sunk to rest in a sky of turquoise, crimson and gold, when -Tristan found himself standing on the eminence where seven decades -later Crescentius, the Senator of Rome, was to build the Church of -Santa Maria in Ara Coeli. - -Leaning on a broken pillar, Tristan watched the evening light as it -spread a veil of ethereal splendor over the Seven Hills and there came -to him a strange feeling of remoteness as to one standing upon some -hill-set shrine. - -Far beneath him lay the Forum. White columns shone roseate in the dying -light of day. - -Wrapt in deep thoughts and meditations, Tristan descended the stairs -leading from the summit whence in after time the name of Santa Maria in -Ara Coeli--Holy Mother at the Altar of Heaven--was to ring in the ears -of thousands like a beautiful rhythmic chant, and after a time he found -himself in the Piazza fronting the Lateran. - -Seized with a sudden impulse he entered the church. - -Slowly the worshippers began to assemble. Their numbers increased to -almost a hundred, though they seemed but as so many shadows in the vast -nave. There was something in their faces, touched by the uncertain -glimmer of the tapers and lamps, that filled him with awe, as if he -were standing among the ghosts of the past. - -At last the holy office commenced. - -A very old priest, whose features Tristan could not distinguish, began -to chant the Introitus, in deep long drawn notes. Through the narrow -windows filtered the light of the rising moon. It did little more -than stain the dusk. Over the sombre high altar hung the white ivory -figure of the Christ, bowed, sagged, in the last agony. A few blood-red -poppies were the only flowers upon the altar. The fumes of incense rose -in spiral columns to the vaulted ceiling. - -The Kyrie had been chanted, the Gloria in Excelsis Deo. Later the Host -was consecrated and the cup before the kneeling worshippers, and the -priest was turning to those near him who, as was still the custom in -those days, were present to communicate in both kinds. - -To each came from his lips the solemn words: - -"Corpus Domini Nostri Jesu Christi custodiat animam tuam ad Vitam -aeternam!" - -He dipped his fingers in the cup, cleansing them with a little wine. He -consumed the cleansings and turned to read the antiphony with resonant -voice. - -"I saw the heavens opened and Jesus at the right hand of God. Lord -Jesus receive their spirit and lay not this sin to their charge!" - -Then, with hands folded over his breast, he moved towards the altar in -the centre, touched it with his lips, and, turning once more to the -people, said: - -"Dominus Vobiscum!" - -"Et cum spiritu tuo," was not answered. - -For at that moment rough shouts were heard and through a side door, -near a chapel, a body of ruffians rushed into the Basilica, their faces -vizored and masked. - -With shouts and oaths they made their way towards the altar. The -worshippers scattered, the mail-clad ruffians smiting their way -through their kneeling ranks up to the altar where stood the form of a -youth clad in pontifical vestments, pale but calm in the face of the -impending storm. - -It was Pope John XI., held prisoner in the Lateran by Alberic, the -Senator of Rome. Tristan had not noted his presence during the -ceremony. Now, like a revelation, the import of the scene flashed upon -his mind. - -Bearing Tristan down by the sheer weight of their numbers, they rushed -upon the Pontiff, stripped him of his pallium and chasuble, leaving him -but one sacred vestment, the white albe. - -Unable to reach the Pontiff's side, unable to aid him, Tristan stood -rooted to the spot, an impotent witness of the most heinous sacrilege -his mind could picture, almost turned to stone. - -Before Tristan's very eyes, before the eyes of the worshippers, who -outnumbered the ruffians ten to one, an outrage was being committed at -which the fiends themselves would shudder. Violence was being done to -the Father of Christendom in his own city, and the craven cowards had -but their own safety in mind. - -Just what happened Tristan could not immediately remember. For, as he -rushed towards the spot where he saw the Pontiff struggling helplessly -against his assailants, he was violently thrust back and the ruffians -made their way towards a side chapel with their captive. Thus he found -himself helplessly borne along in the darkness, and thrust out into the -night. Tristan fell beneath their feet and was for a moment so utterly -stunned that he could not rise. - -As in a dream he heard the leader of the band give a command to his -followers. They mounted their steeds which were tethered outside and -tramped away into the night. - -The sudden appearance of an armed band in the sacred precincts of the -Lateran had so terrified and cowed the crowd of worshippers that even -when the doors of the Basilica were left unguarded, not one ventured to -give assistance. Like shadows they fled into the night. - -When Tristan regained some sort of consciousness he looked about in -vain for aid. - -Dimly he remembered that the ruffians were mounted, and by the time he -summoned succor they would have stowed their captive safely away in one -of their castellated fortresses, where one might search for him in vain -forever more. - -The Piazza in front of the Lateran was deserted. Not a human being was -to be seen. Tristan pursued his way through waste spaces that offered -no clue. He rushed through narrow and deserted streets, abandoned of -the living. He felt like shouting at the top of his voice: "Romans -awake! They have abducted the Pontiff." But, stranger as he was, and -dreading lest he might share John's fate or worse, he withstood the -impulse and at last found himself upon the Bridge of San Angelo before -the fortress tomb of the former master of the world, dreaming in the -surrounding desolation. Before the massive bronze gate cowered a -man-at-arms, drowsing over his pike. - -Without a moment's hesitation, Tristan shook the drowsy guardian of the -Angel's Castle into blaspheming alertness. - -"They have abducted the Pontiff!" he shouted, without releasing his -clutch on the gaping Burgundian. "Sound the alarums! Even now it may be -too late!" - -The man in the brown leather jerkin and steel casque stared -open-mouthed at the speaker. - -"The Lord Alberic is within--" he stammered at last, with an effort to -shake off the drowsiness that held his senses captive. - -"Then rouse him in the devil's name," shouted Tristan. - -The last words had their effect upon the stolid Northman. After the -elapse of some precious moments Alberic himself emerged from the -Emperor's Tomb and Tristan repeated his account of the outrage, little -guessing the rank of him with whom he was standing face to face. - -But now they were confronted with a dilemma which it seemed would put -all Tristan's efforts to naught. - -Who were the leaders of the party that had abducted the Pontiff? For -thereon hinged their success of intercepting the outlaws. - -Tristan's description of the leader did not seem to make any marked -impression on the Senator of Rome. - -He questioned Tristan with regard to their coat-of-arms or other -heraldic emblems. But the author of the outrage had shown sufficient -foresight to avoid a hazardous display. There seemed but one -alternative; to scour the city of Rome in the uncertain hope of -intercepting the outlaws, if they were still within the walls. - -Tristan attached himself to the senatorial party, joining in the -pursuit. At first their task seemed hopeless indeed. Those they -met and questioned had seen no armed band, or, if they had, denied -all knowledge thereof. The frowning masonry of the Cenci, Savelli, -Frangipani, and Odescalchi, which they passed in turn, returned but an -inscrutable reply to their questioning glances. - -For a time they continued their fruitless quest. But as if an outrage -so horrible had ignited the very air about them, they soon found people -stirring, shutters opening and shadowy figures issuing from dark -doorways, while folk were running and shouting to one another: - -"The Pontiff has been abducted!" - -Between cries of rage and shouts of command and indecision on the part -of the leader, who knew not in which direction to pursue, an hour had -elapsed, when they suddenly heard the clatter of hoofs. A company of -horsemen came galloping down the street. Alberic's suspicions that the -ruffians would prefer carrying their victim by devious byways to one -or the other of their Roman lairs, rather than attempt to leave the -city in the teeth of the Senator's guard, seemed realized. Oaths and -sharp orders broke the silence of the night. - -It was amongst a gigantic pile of ruins, apart from all habitations -of the living, that they came to a halt. To a gaunt brick-built tower -they drew close, knocking against the iron-studded door, but ere those -within could open, they were surrounded, outnumbered ten to one. - -Tristan was the first to bound in amongst them. - -His eyes quivered upon the steel-clad form of the leader of the band. - -At the next moment a blow from Tristan's fist struck him down and, ere -he could recover himself, he had been bound, hand and foot, and turned -over to the Senator's guards. - -His followers, despairing of success, made a sudden dash through the -ranks of the people who had been attracted by the melee, riding down a -number, injuring and maiming many. - -The Senator of Rome ranged his men, now re-inforced by the Prefect's -guard, round the drooping form of John, while a howling and shouting -mob, ready to wreak vengeance on the first object it encountered in its -path, followed in their wake as they made their way towards the Lateran. - -An hour later, in a high vaulted, dimly lighted chamber of the -Archangel's Castle, Tristan, the pilgrim, and Alberic, the Senator of -Rome, faced each other for the second time. - -In the course of the pursuit of the ruffians in which he participated, -Tristan had been casually informed of the rank of him who led the -Senatorial guard in person and when, their object accomplished, he -started to detach himself from the men-at-arms, Alberic had foiled his -intention by commanding him to accompany him to the fortress-tomb where -he himself held forth. - -Seated opposite each other, each seemed to scan the other's -countenance before a word was spoken between them. - -Alberic's regard of the man who seemed utterly unconscious of the -importance of the service he had rendered the Senator betokened -approval, and his eyes dwelt for some moments on the frank and open -countenance of this stranger, perchance contrasting it inwardly with -the complex nature of those about his person in whom he could trust but -so long as he could tempt them with earthly dross, and who would turn -against him should a higher bidder for their favor appear. - -Tristan's first impression of the son of Marozia was that of one born -to command. Dark piercing eyes were set in a face, stern, haughty, yet -strangely beautiful. Alberic's tall, slender figure, dressed in black -velvet, relieved by slashes of red satin, added to the impressiveness -of his personality. Upon closer scrutiny Tristan could discover a -marked resemblance between the man before him and his half-brother, the -ill-fated Pontiff, whom, for political reasons, or considerations of -his personal safety, he kept prisoner in the pontifical palace. - -But there was yet another present, who apparently took little heed -of the stranger, engaged as he seemed in the perusal of a parchment, -spread out upon a table before him,--Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. - -A whispered conversation had taken place between the Senator and -his confidential adviser, for this was Basil's true station in the -senatorial household. In the evil days of Marozia's regime he had -occupied the same favored position at the Roman court, and, when -Alberic's revolt had swept the regime of Ugo of Tuscany and Marozia -from Roman soil, the son had attached to himself the man who had shown -a marked sagacity and ability in the days that had come to a close. - -Basil's complex countenance proved somewhat more of an enigma to the -silent on-looker than did the Senator's stern, though frank face. - -He was garbed in black, a color to which he seemed partial. A flat cap -of black velvet with a feather curled round the brim, above a doublet -of black velvet, close fitting, the sleeves slashed, to show the -crimson tunic underneath. The trunk hose round the muscular legs were -of black silk and gold thread, woven together and lined with sarsenet. -His feet were encased in black buskins with silver buckles, and puffed -silk inserted in the slashings of the leather. - -The whole suggestion of the dark, sable figure was odd. It was exotic, -and the absence of a beard greatly intensified the impression. -The face, as Tristan saw it by the light of the taper, was -expressionless--a physical mask. - -At last Alberic broke the silence, turning his eyes full upon the man -who met his gaze without flinching. - -"You have--at your own risk--saved Rome and Holy Church from a calamity -the whole extent of which we may not even surmise, had the Pontiff -been carried away by the lawless band of Tebaldo Savello. We owe you -thanks--and we shall not shirk our duty. You are a stranger. Who are -you and why are you here?" - -To the same questions that another had put to him on the memorable -eve of his arrival, in the Piazza Navona, Tristan replied with equal -frankness. His words bore the stamp of truth, and Alberic listened to a -tale passing strange to Roman ears. - -And, unseen by Tristan, something began to stir in the dark, -unfathomable eyes of Basil, as some unknown thing stirs in deep waters, -and the hidden thing therein, to him who saw, was hidden no longer. -Some nameless being was looking out of these windows of the soul. One -looking at him now would have shrank away, cold fear gripping his heart. - -For a moment, after Tristan had finished his tale, there was silence. -Alberic had risen and, seemingly unconscious of the presences in his -chamber, was perambulating its narrow confines until, of a sudden, he -stopped directly before Tristan. - -"These penances completed, whereof you speak--do you intend returning -to the land of your birth?" - -A blank dismay shone in Tristan's eyes. Not having referred to the -nature of the transgression, for which he was to do penance, and obtain -absolution, he found it somewhat difficult to answer Alberic's question. - -"This is a matter I had not considered," he replied with some -hesitancy, which remained not unremarked by the Senator. - -Alberic was a man of few words, and he possessed a discernment far -beyond his years. At the first glance at this stranger whom fate had -led across his path, he had known that here was one he might trust, -could he but induce him to become his man. - -He held out his hand. - -"I am going to be your friend and I mean to requite the service you -have done the Senator, ere the dawn of another day breaks in the sky. -There is a vacancy in the Senator's guard. I appoint you captain of -Castel San Angelo." - -Ere Tristan could sufficiently recover from his surprise to make reply, -another voice was audible, a voice, soft and insinuating--the voice of -Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. - -"My lord--the chain of evidence against Gamba is not completed. In -fact, later developments seem to point to an intrigue of which he is -but the unwitting victim--" - -Alberic turned to the speaker. - -"The proofs, my Lord Basil, are conclusive. Gamba is a traitor -convicted of having conspired with an emissary of Ugo of Tuscany, to -deliver the Archangel's Castle into his hands. He is sentenced--he -shall die--as soon as we discover his abode--" - -Basil's face had turned to ashen hues. - -"What mean you, my lord? Gamba is awaiting sentence in the dungeon -where he has been confined, ever since his trial--" - -"The cage is still there," Alberic interposed sardonically. "The bird -has flown." - -"Escaped?" stammered the Grand Chamberlain, rising from his seat -and raising his furtive eyes to those of the Senator. "Then he has -confederates in our very midst--" - -"We shall know more of this anon," came the laconic reply. "Will you -accept the trust which the Senator of Rome offers you?" Alberic turned -from the Grand Chamberlain to Tristan. - -The latter found his voice at last. - -"How shall I thank you, my lord!" he said, grasping the Senator's hand. -"Grant me but a week, wherein to absolve the business upon which I -came--and I shall prove myself worthy of the lord Alberic's trust!" - -"So be it," the son of Marozia replied. "A long deferred pilgrimage to -the shrines of the Archangel at Monte Gargano will take me from Rome -for the space of a month or more. I should like to be assured that this -keep is in the hands of one who will not fail me in the hour of need! -My Lord Basil--greet the new captain of Castel San Angelo--" - -Approaching almost soundlessly over the tiled floor, the Grand -Chamberlain extended his hand to Tristan, offering his congratulations -upon his sudden advancement. - -Whatever it was that flashed in Basil's eyes, it was gone as quickly as -it had come. His thin lips parted in an inscrutable smile as Tristan, -with a bend of the head, acknowledged the courtesy. - -For a moment, following his acceptance, Tristan was startled at his own -decision. Another would have felt it to be an amazing streak of luck. -Tristan was frightened, though his misgivings vanished after a time. - -Owing to the lateness of the hour and the insecurity of the streets -Alberic offered Tristan the hospitality of his future abode for the -night and the latter gladly accepted. - -After Basil had departed, he remained closeted with the Senator for the -space of an hour or more. What transpired between these two remained -guarded from the outer world, and it was late ere the sentinel on the -ramparts saw the light in the Senator's chamber extinguished, wondering -at the nature of the business which detained the lord Alberic and the -tall stranger in the pilgrim's garb. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -MASKS AND MUMMERS - - -Amid the ruin of cities and the din of strife during the tenth century -darkness closed in upon the Romans, while the figures of strange -despots emerged from obscurity only to disappear as quickly into the -night of oblivion. Little of them is known, save that they ruled the -people and the pope with merciless severity, and that the first one of -them was a woman. - -The beautiful Theodora the older was the wife of Theophylactus, Consul -and Patricius of Rome, but the permanence of her power seemed to have -been due entirely to her own charm and personality. - -Her daughter Marozia, with even greater beauty, greater fascination -and greater gift of daring, played even a more conspicuous part in -the history of her time. She married Alberic, Count of Spoleto, whose -descendants, the Counts of Tusculum, gave popes and mighty citizens to -Rome. One of their palaces is said to have adjoined the Church of S. S. -Apostoli, and came later into the possession of the powerful house of -Colonna. - -Alberic of Spoleto soon died and Marozia, as the chronicles tell -us, continued as the temporal ruler of the city and the arbitress -of pontifical elections. She held forth in Castel San Angelo, the -indomitable stronghold of mediaeval Rome. - -In John X. who, in the year 914, had gained the tiara through Theodora, -she found a man of character, whose aim and ambition were the dominion -of Rome, the supremacy of the Church. - -By the promise of an imperial crown, the pope gained Count Ugo of -Tuscany to his party, but Marozia outwitted him, by giving her hand to -his more powerful half-brother Guido, then Margrave of Tuscany. - -John X., after trying for two years, in spite of his enemies, to -maintain his regime from the Lateran, at last fell into their hands and -was either strangled or starved to death in the dungeons of Castel San -Angelo. - -After the death of Guido, Marozia married his half-brother Ugo. The -strange wedding took place in the Mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian, -where a bridal hall and nuptial chamber had been arranged and adorned -for them. - -From the fortress tomb of the Flavian Emperor, Ugo lorded it over the -city of Rome, earning thereby the hatred of the people and especially -of young Alberic, his ambitious step-son, the son of Marozia and Count -Alberic of Spoleto. - -The proud youth, forced one day to serve him as a page, with -intentional awkwardness, splashed some water over him and in return -received a blow. Mad with fury, Alberic rushed from Castel San Angelo -and summoned the people to arms. The clarions sounded and the fortress -tomb was surrounded by a blood-thirsty mob. In no time the actors -changed places. Ugo escaped by means of a rope from a window in the -castello and returned to Tuscany, leaving behind him his honor, his -wife and his imperial crown, while the youth Alberic became master of -Rome, cast Marozia into a prison in Castel San Angelo and kept his -half-brother, John XI., a close prisoner in the Lateran. - -But the imprisonment of Marozia, and her mysterious disappearance from -the scenes of her former triumphs and baleful activity did not end the -story of the woman regime in Rome. - -There lived in a palace, built upon the ruins of nameless temples -and sanctuaries, and embellished with all the barbarous splendor of -Byzantine and Moorish arts, in the remote wilderness of Mount Aventine, -a woman, who, in point of physical charms, ambition and daring had not -her equal in Rome since the death of Marozia. Theodora the younger, as -she is distinguished from her mother, the wife of Theophylactus, by -contemporary chroniclers, was the younger sister of Marozia. - -The boundless ambition of the latter had left nothing to achieve for -the woman who had reached her thirtieth year when Alberic's revolution -consigned her sister to a nameless doom. - -Strange rumors concerning her were afloat in Rome. Strange things were -whispered of her palace on Mount Aventine, where she assembled about -her the nobility of the city and the surrounding castelli, and soon -her court vied in point of sumptuousness and splendor with the most -splendid and profligate of her time. - -Her admirers numbered by thousands, and her exotic beauty caused new -lovers to swell the ranks of the old with every day that passed down -the never returning tide of time. - -Some came openly and some came under the cover of night, heavily -muffled and cloaked: spendthrifts, gamblers, gallants, men of fashion, -officers of the Senator's Court, poets, philosophers, and the feudal -lords of the Campagna. - -Wealthy debauchees from the provinces, princes from the shores of -the Euxine, Lombard and Tuscan chiefs, Northmen from Scandinavia and -Iceland, wearing over their gnarled limbs the soft silken tunics of -Rome, Greeks, sleek, furtive-eyed, rulers from far-off Cathay, wearing -coats of crimson with strange embroidery from the scented East, men -from the isles of Venetia and the stormy plains of Thessaly, men with -narrow slanting eyes from the limitless steppes of Sarmatia, blond -warriors from the amber coasts of the Baltic, Persian princes who -worshipped the Sun, and Moors from the Spanish Caliphate of Cordova; -chieftains from the Lybian desert, as restive as their fiery steeds; -black despots from the hidden heart of Africa, with thick lips and -teeth like ivory, effete youths from Sicily and the Ionian isles, -possessed of the insidious beauty of the Lesbian women, adventurers -from Samarkand and Bokhara, trading in strange wares and steeped in -odor of musk and spices; Hyperboreans from the sea-skirt shores of an -ever frozen unimaginable ocean;--from every land under the sun they -came to Rome, for the sinister fame of Theodora's beauty, the baleful -mystery that surrounded her, and her dark repute proved powerful -incentives to curiosity, which soon gave way to overmastering passion, -once the senses had been steeped in the intoxicating atmosphere of the -woman's presence. - -And, indeed, her physical charms were such as no mortal had yet -resisted whom she had willed to make her own. Her body, tall as a -column, was lustrous, incomparable. The arms and hands seemed to have -been chiselled of ivory by a master creator who might point with pride -to the perfection of his handiwork--the perfection of Aphrodité, Lais -and Phryné melted into one. The features were of such rare mould and -faultless type that even Marozia had to concede to her younger sister -the palm of beauty. The wonderful, deep set eyes, with their ever -changing lights, now emerald, now purple, now black; the straight, -pencilled brows, the broad smooth forehead and the tiny ears, hidden in -the wealth of her raven hair, tied into a Grecian knot and surmounted -by a circlet of emeralds, skillfully worked into the twining bodies of -snakes with ruby eyes; the satin sheen of the milk-white skin whose -ivory pallor was tinted with the faintest rose-light that never changed -either in heat or in cold, in anger or in joy: such was the woman -whose long slumbering, long suppressed ambition, coupled with a daring -that had not its equal, was to be fanned into a raging holocaust after -Marozia's untimely demise. - -Concealing her most secret hopes and ambitions so utterly that even -Alberic became her dupe, Theodora threw herself into the whirl of life -with a keen appreciation of all its thrilling excitement. Vitally -alive with the pride of her sex and the sense of its power, she found -in her existence all the zest of some breathlessly fascinating game. -Men to her were mere pawns. She regarded them almost impersonally, as -creatures to taunt, to tempt, to excite, to play upon. Deliberately and -unstintingly she applied her arts. She delighted to see them at her -feet, but to repel them as the mood changed, with exasperating disdain. -Love to her was a word she knew but from report,--or, from what she had -read. She knew not its meaning, nor had she ever fathomed its depths. - -To revel through delirious nights with some newly-chosen favorite -of the moment, who would soon thereafter mysteriously disappear, to -be tossed from the embrace of one into the arms of another; in the -restless, fruitless endeavor to kill the pain of life, the memory -of consciousness, to fill the void of a heart, that, alive to the -shallowness of existence, clutches at the saving hope of power, to -rule and to crush the universe beneath her feet, a dream, vague, vain, -unattainable: this desire filled Theodora's soul. - -Her soul was burning itself to cinders in its own fires,--those baleful -fires that had proven the undoing of her equally beautiful sister. - -Alone she would pace her gilded chambers, feverishly, unable to think, -driven hither and thither by the demons of unrest, by the disquietude -of her heart. Desperately she threw herself into whatever excitement -offered. - -But it was always in vain. - -She found no respite. Ever and ever a reiterant, restless craving -gnawed, like a worm, at her heart. - -As she approached the thirtieth year of her life, Theodora had grown -more dazzling in beauty. Her body had assumed the wonderful plasticity -of marble. Her eyes had become more unfathomable, more wondrously -changeful in hues, like the iridescent waters of the sea. - -Living as she did in an age where a morbid trend pervaded the world, -where the approach of the Millennium, though no one of the present -generation would see the day, was heralded as the End of Time; living -as she did in the darkest epoch of Roman history, Theodora felt the -utter inadequacy of her life, a hunger which nothing but power could -assuage. - -Slowly this desire began to grow and expand. She wished to wield her -will, not only on men's emotions, but upon their lives as well. Perhaps -even the death of Marozia, with its paralyzing influence over her soul, -the captivity in the Lateran of her sister's son, and the hateful rule -of Alberic, would not have brought matters to a focus, had not the -appearance upon the stage of a woman, who, in point of beauty, spirit -and daring bade fair to constitute a terrible rival, roused all the -dormant passions in Theodora's soul and when Roxana openly boasted -that she would wrest the power from the hands of her rival and rule in -the Emperor's Tomb in spite of the Pontiff, of Alberic and Marozia's -blood-kin, the soul of Theodora leaped to the challenge of the other -woman and she craved for the conflict as she had never longed for -anything in her life, save perchance, a love of which she had but -possessed the base counterfeit. - -No one knew whence Roxana had come, nor how long she had been in Rome, -when an incident at San Lorenzo in Lucina had brought the two women -face to face. Both, with their trains, had simultaneously arrived -before the portals of the sanctuary when Roxana barred Theodora's way. -Some mysterious instinct seemed to have informed each of the person -and ambition of the other. For a moment they faced each other white -to the lips. Then Roxana and her train had entered the church, and as -she passed the other woman, a deadly challenge had flashed from her -blue eyes into Theodora's dark orbs. The populace applauded Roxana's -daring, and, in order to taunt her rival, she had established her court -on desert Aventine, assembling about her the disgruntled lovers of -Theodora and others, whom her disdain had driven to seek oblivion and -revenge. - -The land of Roxana's birth was shrouded in mystery. Some reported her -from the icy regions of the North, others credited her with being the -fugitive odalisque of some Eastern despot, a native of Kurdistan, the -beauty and fire of whose women she possessed to a high degree. - -Such was Roxana, who had challenged Theodora for the possession of the -Emperor's Tomb. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE SHRINE OF HEKATÉ - - -Athwart the gleaming balconies of the east the morning sun shone -golden and the shadows of the white marble cornices and capitals and -jutting friezes were blue with the reflection of the cloudless sky. -Far below Mount Aventine the soft mists of dawn still hovered over the -seven-hilled city, whence the distant cries of the water carriers and -fruit venders came echoing up from the waking streets. - -A fugitive sunbeam stole through a carelessly closed lattice of a -chamber in the palace of Theodora, and danced now on the walls, bright -with many a painted scene, now on the marble inlaid mosaic of the -floor. Now and then a bright blade or the jewelled rim of a wine cup of -eastern design would flash back the wayward ray, until its shaft rested -on a curtained recess wherein lay a faintly outlined form. Tenderly -the sunbeams stole over the white limbs that veiled their chiselled -roundness under the blue shot webs of their wrappings, which, at the -capricious tossing of the sleeper, bared two arms, white as ivory and -wonderful in their statuesque moulding. - -The face of the sleeper showed creamy white under a cloud of dark, -silken hair, held back in a net of gold from the broad smooth forehead. -Dark, exquisitely pencilled eyebrows arched over the closed, -transparent lids, fringed with lashes that now and then seemed to -flicker on the marble pallor of the cheeks, and the proudly poised head -lay back, half buried in the cushions, supported by the gleaming white -arms that were clasped beneath it. - -Then, as if fearful of intruding on the charms that his ray had -revealed, the sunbeam turned and, kissing the bosom that swelled and -sank with the sleeper's gentle breathing, descended till it rested on -an overhanging foot, from which a carelessly fastened sandal hung by -one vermilion strap. - -Of a sudden a light footfall was audible without and in an instant the -sleeper had heard and awakened, her dark eyes heavy with drowsiness, -the red lips parted, revealing two rows of small, pearly teeth, with -the first deep breath of returning consciousness. - -At the sound one white hand drew the silken wrappings over the limbs, -that a troubled slumber and the warmth of the Roman summer night had -bared, while the other was endeavoring to adjust the disordered folds -of the saffron gossamer web that clung like a veil to her matchless -form. - -"Ah! It is but you! Persephoné," she said with a little sigh, as a -curtain was drawn aside, revealing the form of a girl about twenty-two -years old, whose office as first attendant to Theodora had been firmly -established by her deep cunning, a thorough understanding of her -mistress' most hidden moods and desires, her utter fearlessness and a -native fierceness, that recoiled from no consideration of danger. - -Persephoné was tall, straight as an arrow, lithe and sinuous as a -snake. Her face was beautiful, but there was something in the gleam -of those slightly slanting eyes that gave pause to him who chanced to -cross her path. - -She claimed descent from some mythical eastern potentate and was a -native of Circassia, the land of beautiful women. No one knew how she -had found her way to Rome. The fame of Marozia's evil beauty and her -sinister repute had in time attracted Persephoné, and she had been -immediately received in Marozia's service, where she remained till the -revolt of Alberic swept her mistress into the dungeons of Castel San -Angelo. Thereupon she had attached herself to Theodora who loved the -wild and beautiful creature and confided in her utterly. - -"Evil and troubled have been my dreams," Theodora continued, as the -morning light fell in through the parted curtains. "At the sound of -your footfall I started up--fearing--I knew not what--" - -"For a long time have I held out against his pleadings and commands," -Persephoné replied in a subdued voice, "knowing that my lady slept. But -he will not be denied,--and his insistence had begun to frighten me. So -at last I dared brave my lady's anger and disturb her--" - -"Frighten you, Persephoné?" Theodora's musical laughter resounded -through the chamber. "You--who braved death at these white hands of -mine without flinching?" - -She extended her hands as if to impress Persephoné with their beauty -and strength. - -Whatever the circumstance referred to, Persephoné made no reply. Only -her face turned a shade more pale. - -The draped figure had meanwhile arisen to her full height, as she -stretched the sleep from her limbs, then, her question remaining -unanswered, she continued: - -"But--of whom do you speak? A new defiance from Roxana? A new insult -from the Senator of Rome? I would have it understood," this with a -slight lift of the voice, "that even were the end of the world at hand, -of which they prate so much of late, and heaven and earth to crumble -into chaos, I would not be disturbed to listen to shallow plaints and -mock heroics." - -"It is neither the one nor the other," replied Persephoné with an -apprehensive glance of her slanting eyes over her shoulder, "but my -Lord Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. He waits without where the eunuchs -guard your slumber, and his eyes are aflame with something more than -impatience--" - -At the mention of the name a subtle change passed over the listener's -face, and a sombre look crept into her eyes as she muttered: - -"What can he be bringing now?" - -Then, with a sudden flash, she added, tossing back her beautiful head: - -"Let the Lord Basil wait! And now, Persephoné, remove from me the -traces of sleep and set the couches in better order." - -Silently and quickly the Circassian sprang forward and rolled back the -curtains from the lattices, letting a stronger but still subdued light -enter the chamber, revealing, as it did, many a chased casket, and -mirrors of polished steel and bronze, and lighting up exquisite rainbow -hued fabrics, thrown carelessly over lion-armed chairs, with here and -there an onyx table wonderfully carved. - -The chamber itself looked out upon a terrace and garden, a garden -filled with such a marvellous profusion of foliage and flowers, that, -looking at it from between the glistening marble columns surrounding -the palace, it seemed as though the very sky above rested edgewise on -towering pyramids of red and white bloom. Awnings of softest pale blue -stretched across the entire width of the spacious outer colonnade, -where a superb peacock strutted majestically to and fro, with -boastfully spreading tail and glittering crest, as brilliant as the -gleam of the hot sun on the silver fringe of the azure canopies, amidst -the gorgeousness of waving blossoms that seemed to surge up like a sea -to the very windows of the chamber. - -Filling an embossed bowl with perfumed water, Persephoné bathed the -hands of her mistress, who had sunk down upon a low, tapestried -couch. Then, combing out her luxuriant hair, she bound it in a -jewelled netting that looked like a constellation of stars against the -dusky masses it confined. Taking a long, sleeveless robe of amber, -Persephoné flung it about her subtle form and bound it over breast and -shoulders with a jewelled band. But Theodora's glance informed her that -something was still wanting and, following the direction of her gaze, -Persephoné's eye rested on a life-size statue of Hekaté that stood with -deadly calm on its inexorable face and slightly raised hands, from one -of which hung something that glittered strangely in the subdued light -of the recess. - -Obeying Theodora's silent gesture, Persephoné advanced to the image and -took from its raised arm a circlet fashioned of two golden snakes with -brightly enamelled scales, bearing in their mouths a single diamond, -brilliant as summer lightning. This she gently placed on her mistress' -head, so that the jewel flamed in the centre of the coronet, then, -kneeling down, she drew together the unlatched sandals. - -Persephoné's touch roused her mistress from a day dream that had set -her features as rigid as ivory, as she surveyed herself for a moment -intently in a great bronze disk whose burnished surface gave back her -flawless beauty line for line. - -In Persephoné's gaze she read her unstinted admiration, for, beautiful -as the Circassian was, she loved beauty in her own sex, wherever she -found it. - -Theodora seemed to have utterly forgotten the presence of the Grand -Chamberlain in the anteroom, yet, in an impersonal way, her thoughts -occupied themselves with the impending tete-a-tete. - -Her life had been one constant round of pleasure and amusement, yet she -was not happy, nor even contented. - -Day by day she felt the want of some fresh interest, some fresh -excitement, and it was this craving probably, more than innate -depravity, which plunged her into those disgraceful and licentious -excesses that were nightly enacted in the sunken gardens behind her -palace. Lovers she had had by the scores. Yet each new face possessed -for her but the attraction of novelty. The favorite of the hour had -small cause to plume himself on his position. No sooner did he believe -himself to be secure in the possession of Theodora's love, than he -found himself hurled into the night of oblivion. - -A strange pagan wave held Rome enthralled. Italy was in the throes of -a dark revulsion. A woman, beautiful as she was evil, had exercised -within the past decade her baleful influence from Castel San Angelo. -Theodora had taken up Marozia's tainted inheritance. Members of a -family of courtesans, they looked upon their trade as a hereditary -privilege and, like the ancient Aspasias, these Roman women of the -tenth century triumphed primarily by means of their feminine beauty -and charms over masculine barbarism and grossness. It was an age -of feudalism, when brutal force and murderous fury were the only -divinities whom the barbarian conqueror was compelled to respect. -Lombards and Huns, Franks and Ostrogoths, Greeks and Africans, the -savage giants issuing from the deep Teutonic forests, invading the -classic soil of Rome, became so many Herculeses sitting at the feet of -Omphalé, and the atmosphere of the city by the Tiber--the atmosphere -that had nourished the Messalinas of Imperial Rome--poured the flame of -ambition into the soul of a woman whose beauty released the strongest -passions in the hearts of those with whom she surrounded herself, in -order to attain her soul's desire. To rule Rome from the fortress -tomb of the Flavian emperor was the dream of Theodora's life. It had -happened once. It would happen again, as long as men were ready to -sacrifice at the shrines of Hekaté. - -Unbridled in her passions as she was strong in her physical -organization, an unbending pride and an intensity of will came to -her aid when she had determined to win the object of her desire. In -Theodora's bosom beat a heart that could dare, endure and defy the -worst. She was a woman whom none but a very bold or ignorant suitor -would have taken to his heart. Perchance the right man, had he appeared -on the stage in time, might have made her gentle and quelled the -wild passions that tossed her resistlessly about, like a barque in a -hurricane. - -Suddenly something seemed to tell her that she had found such a one. -Tristan's manly beauty had made a strong appeal upon her senses. The -anomaly of his position had captivated her imagination. There was -something strangely fascinating in the mystery that surrounded him, -there was even a wild thrill of pleasure in the seeming shame of loving -one whose garb stamped him as one claimed by the Church. He had braved -her anger in refusing to accompany Persephoné. He had closed his eyes -to Theodora's beauty, had sealed his ears to the song of the siren. - -"A man at last!" she said half aloud, and Persephoné, looking up from -her occupation, gave her an inquisitive glance. - -The splash of hidden fountains diffused a pleasant coolness in the -chamber. Spiral wreaths of incense curled from a bronze tripod into the -flower-scented ether. The throbbing of muted strings from harps and -lutes, mingling with the sombre chants of distant processions, vibrated -through the sun-kissed haze, producing a weird and almost startling -effect. - -After a pause of some duration, apparently oblivious of the fact -that the announced caller was waiting without, Theodora turned to -Persephoné, brushing with one white hand a stray raven lock from the -alabaster forehead. - -"Can it be the heat or the poison miasma that presages our Roman fever? -Never has my spirit been so oppressed as it is to-day, as if the gloomy -messengers from Lethé's shore were enfolding me in their shadowy -pinions. I saw his face in the dream of the night"--she spoke as if -soliloquizing--"it was as the face of one long dead--" - -She paused with a shudder. - -"Of whom does my lady speak?" Persephoné interposed with a swift glance -at her mistress. - -"The pilgrim who crossed my path to his own or my undoing. Has he been -heard from again?" - -A negative gesture came in response. - -"His garb is responsible for much," replied the Circassian. "The city -fairly swarms with his kind--" - -The intentional contemptuous sting met its immediate rebuke. - -"Not his kind," Theodora flashed back. "He has nothing in common with -those others save the garb--and there is more beneath it than we wot -of--" - -"The Lady Theodora's judgment is not to be gainsaid," the Circassian -replied, without meeting her mistress' gaze. "Do they not throng to her -bowers by the legion--" - -"A pilgrimage of the animals to Circé's sty--each eager to be -transformed into his own native state," Theodora interposed -contemptuously. - -"Perchance this holy man is in reality a prince from some mythical, -fabled land--come to Rome to resist temptation and be forthwith -canonized--" - -Persephoné's mirth suffered a check by Theodora's reply. - -"Stranger things have happened. All the world comes to Rome on one -business or another. This one, however, has not his mind set on the -Beatitudes--" - -"Nevertheless he dared not enter the forbidden gates," the Circassian -ventured to object. - -"It was not fear. On that I vouch. Perchance he has a vow. Whatever it -be--he shall tell me--face to face--and here!" - -"But if the holy man refuse to come?" - -Theodora's trained ear did not miss the note of irony in the -Circassian's question. - -"He will come!" she replied laconically. - -"A task worthy the Lady Theodora's renown." - -"You deem it wonderful?" - -"If I have read the pilgrim's eyes aright--" - -"Perchance your own sweet eyes, my beautiful Persephoné, discoursed to -him something on that night that caused misgivings in his holy heart, -and made him doubt your errand?" Theodora purred, extending her white -arms and regarding the Circassian intently. - -Persephoné flushed and paled in quick succession. - -"On that matter I left no doubt in his mind," she said enigmatically. - -There was a brief pause, during which an inscrutable gaze passed -between Theodora and the Circassian. - -"Were you not as beautiful as you are evil, my Persephoné, I should -strangle you," Theodora at last said very quietly. - -The Circassian's face turned very pale and there was a strange light -in her eyes. Her memory went back to an hour when, during one of the -periodical feuds between Marozia and her younger sister, the former -had imprisoned Theodora in one of the chambers of Castel San Angelo, -setting over her as companion and gaoler in one Persephoné, then in -Marozia's service. - -The terrible encounter between Theodora and the Circassian in the -locked chamber, when only the timely appearance of the guard saved each -from destruction at the hands of the other, as Theodora tried to take -the keys of her prison from Persephoné, had never left the latter's -mind. Brave as she was, she had nevertheless, after Marozia's fall, -entered Theodora's service, and the latter, admiring the spirit of -fearlessness in the girl, had welcomed her in her household. - -"I am ever at the Lady Theodora's service," Persephoné replied, with -drooping lids, but Theodora caught a gleam of tigerish ferocity -beneath those silken lashes that fired her own blood. - -"Beware--lest in some evil hour I may be tempted to finish what I left -undone in the Emperor's Tomb!" she flashed with a sudden access of -passion. - -"The Lady Theodora is very brave," Persephoné replied, as, stirred by -the memory, her eyes sank into those of her mistress. - -For a moment they held each other's gaze, then, with a generosity -that was part of her complex nature, Theodora extended her hand to -Persephoné. - -"Forgive the mood--I am strangely wrought up," she said. "Cannot you -help me in this dilemma, where I can trust in none?" - -"There dwells in Rome one who can help my lady," Persephoné replied -with hesitation; "one deeply versed in the lore and mysteries of the -East." - -"Who is this man?" Theodora queried eagerly. - -"His name is Hormazd. By his spells he can change the natural event of -things, and make Fate subservient to his decrees." - -"Why have you never told me of him before?" - -"Because the Lady Theodora's will seemed to do as much for her as -could, to my belief, the sorcerer's art!" - -The implied compliment pleased Theodora. - -"Where does he abide?" - -"In the Trastevere." - -"What does he for those who seek him?" - -"He reads the stars--foretells the future--and, with the aid of strange -spells of which he is master, can bring about that which otherwise -would be unattainable--" - -"You rouse my curiosity! Tell me more of him." - -An inscrutable expression passed over Persephoné's face. - -"He was Marozia's trusted friend." - -A frozen silence reigned apace. - -"Did he foretell that which was to happen?" Theodora spoke at last. - -"To the hour!" - -"And yet--forewarned--" - -"Marozia, grown desperate in the hatred of her lord, derided his -warnings." - -"It was her Fate. Tell me more!" - -"He has visited every land under the sun. From Thulé to Cathay his -fame is known. Strange tales are told of him. No one knows his age. He -seems to have lived always. As he appears now he hath ever been. They -say he has been seen in places thousand leagues apart at the same time. -Sometimes he disappears and is not heard of for months. But--whoever -he may be--whatever he may be engaged in--at the stroke of midnight -that he must suspend. Then his body turns rigid as a corpse, bereft of -animation, and his spirit is withdrawn into realms we dare not even -dream of. At the first hour of the morning life will slowly return. But -no one has yet dared to question him, where he has spent those dread -hours." - -Theodora had listened to Persephoné's tale with a strange new interest. - -"How long has this Hormazd--or whatever his name--resided in Rome?" she -turned to the Circassian. - -"I met him first on the night on which the lady Marozia summoned him to -the summit of the Emperor's Tomb. There he abode with her for hours, -engaged in some unholy incantation and at last conjured up such a -tempest over the Seven Hills, as the city of Rome had not experienced -since it was founded by the man from Troy--" - -Persephoné's historical deficiency went hand in hand with a -superstition characteristic of the age, and evoked no comment from one -perchance hardly better informed with regard to the past. - -"I well remember the night," Theodora interposed. - -"We crept down into the crypts, where the dog-headed Egyptian god keeps -watch over the dead Emperor," Persephoné continued. "The lady Marozia -alone remained on the summit with the wizard--amidst such lightnings -and crashing peals of thunder and a hurricane the like of which the -oldest inhabitants do not remember--" - -"I shall test his skill," Theodora spoke after a pause. "Perchance he -may give me that which I have never known--" - -"My lady would consult the wizard?" Persephoné interposed eagerly. - -"Such is my intent." - -"Shall I summon him to your presence?" - -"I shall go to him!" - -In Persephoné's countenance surprise and fear struggled for mastery. - -"Then I shall accompany my lady--" - -"I shall go alone and unattended--" - -"It is an ill-favored region, where the sorcerer dwells--" - -An inscrutable look passed into Theodora's eyes. - -"Can he but give me that which I desire I shall brave the hazard, be it -ever so great." - -The last words were uttered in an undertone. Then she added imperiously: - -"Go and summon the lord Basil and bid two eunuchs attend him hither! -And do you wait with them within call behind those curtains." - -Then, as Persephoné silently piled cushions behind her in the -lion-armed chair and withdrew bowing, Theodora murmured to herself: - -"Hardly can I trust even him in an hour so fraught with darkness and -peril. Yet strive as he will, he may not break the chains his passion -has woven around his senses." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE GAME OF LOVE - - -The pattering of footsteps resounded on the marble floor of the -corridor and the hangings once more parted, revealing the form of a -man sombre even in the shadows which seemed part of the darkness that -framed his white face. - -With eyes that never left the woman's graceful form the visitor slowly -advanced and, concealing his chagrin at having been kept waiting like a -slave in the anteroom, bent low over Theodora's hand and raised it to -his lips. - -She had seated herself on a divan which somewhat shaded her face and -invited him with a mute gesture to take his seat beside her. Persephoné -and the eunuchs had left the chamber. - -"Fain would I have departed, Lady Theodora, when the maid Persephoné, -who has the devil in her eyes, told me that the Lady Theodora slept," -Basil spoke as, with the light of a fierce passion in his eyes, he sank -down beside the wondrous form, and his hot breath fanned her shoulder. -"But my tidings brook no delay. Closer, fairest lady, that your ear -alone may hear this new perplexity that does beset us, for it concerns -that which lies closest to our heart, and the time is brief--" - -"I cannot even guess your tidings," replied Theodora, withdrawing -herself a little from his burning gaze. "For days mischance has emptied -all her quivers at me, leaving me not a dart wherewith to strike." - -"It is as a bolt from the clear blue," interposed the Grand -Chamberlain. "Yet--how were we to reckon with that which did happen? -Every detail had been carefully planned. In the excitement and turmoil -which roared and surged over the Navona the task could not fail of its -accomplishment and he who was to speed the holy man to his doom had but -to plunge into that seething vortex of humanity to make his escape. -Surely the foul fiend was abroad on that night and stalked about -visibly to our undoing. For not a word have I been able to get out of -Il Gobbo who raves that at the very moment when he was about to strike, -St. John himself towered over him, paralyzed his efforts, and gave him -such a blow as sent him reeling upon the turf. Some say,"--the speaker -added meditatively, "it was a pilgrim--" - -"A pilgrim?" Theodora interposed, a sudden gleam in her eyes. "A -pilgrim? What was he like?" - -"To Il Gobbo he appeared no doubt of superhuman height, else had he not -affrighted him. For the bravo is no coward--" - -"A pilgrim, you say," Theodora repeated, meditatively. - -"Whosoever he is," Basil continued after a pause, "he seems to scent -ample entertainment in this godly city. For, no doubt it was the same -who thwarted by his timely appearance the abduction of the Pontiff by -certain ruffians, earning thereby much distinction in the eyes of the -Senator of Rome who has appointed him captain of Castel San Angelo--and -Gamba in whom we placed our trust has fled. If he is captured--if he -should confess--" - -The color had died out of Theodora's cheeks and she sat bolt upright as -a statue of marble, gazing into the shadows with great wide eyes, as in -a low voice, hardly audible even to her visitor, she said: - -"God! Will this uncertainty never cease? What is to be done? -Speak!--For I confess, I am not myself today."-- - -Basil hesitated, and a sudden flame leaped into his eyes as they -devoured the beauty of the woman beside him, and raising to his lips -the hand that lay inert on the saffron-hued cushion, he replied: - -"The lady Theodora has many who do her bidding, yet is the heart of -none as true as his, who is even now sitting beside her. Therefore ask -of me whatever you will and, if a blade be needed, your slightest favor -will fire me to any deed,--however unnameable."-- - -Lower the man bent, until his hot breath scorched her pale cheeks. But -neither by word nor gesture did she betray that she was conscious of -his nearer approach as, in a calm voice, she replied: - -"Full well do I know your zeal and devotion, my lord Basil. Yet there -hangs in the balance the keen and timely stroke that shall secure for -me the dominion of the Seven Hills and the Emperor's Tomb. For failure -would bring in its wake that which would be harder to endure than -death itself. Therefore," she added slowly, "I would choose one whose -devotion is only equalled by his blind indifference to that which I am -minded to bring about; not one only fired with a passion, which when -cooled might leave nothing but fear and hesitation behind."-- - -"Has all that has passed between us left you with so ill an opinion -of me?" Basil replied, drawing back somewhat ostentatiously. "There -are few that can be trusted with that which must be done--and trusted -blades are scarce." - -"The more reason that we choose wisely and well," came the reply in -deliberate tones. "How much longer must I suffer the indignity which -this stripling dares to put upon his own flesh and blood,--upon myself, -who has striven for this dominion with all the fire of this restless -soul? How much longer must I sit idly by, pondering over the mystery -that enshrouds Marozia's untimely end? How much longer must I tremble -in abject fear of him whom the Tuscan's churlishness has set up in -yonder castello and who conspires with my rival to gain his sinister -ends?" - -"By what sorcery she holds him captive, I cannot tell," Basil -interposed. "Yet, if we are not on our guard, we shall awaken one day -to the realization that even the faint chance which remains to us now -has passed from our hands. I doubt not but that Roxana will enlist the -services of the stranger who in the space of a week, during the lord -Alberic's absence, will lord it over the city of Rome!" - -With a smothered cry of hate, that drove from Theodora's face every -trace of her former mood, she bounded upright. - -"What demon of madness possesses you, my lord Basil, to taunt me with -your suspicions?" she flashed. - -Basil had sped his shaft at random, but he had hit the mark. - -In suave and insinuating tones, without relinquishing his gaze upon the -woman, he replied: - -"I voice but my fears, Lady Theodora, and the urgency of assembling -your friends under the banners of your house. What is more natural," he -continued with slow and sinister emphasis, "than for a beautiful woman -to harbor the desire for conquest, and to profit from so auspicious a -throw of fate as the stranger's espousing her part against an equally -beautiful, hated rival? Is not the inference justified, that, ignorant -of the merits of the feud, which has been raging these many months, he -will take the part of the one whose beauty had compelled the Senator's -unwitting tribute--as it were?" - -He paused for a moment, watching the woman before him from under -half-shut lids, then continued slowly: - -"Roxana is consumed with the desire to stake soul and body upon -attaining her ends, humbling her rival in the dust and set her foot -upon her neck. Time and again has she defied you! At the banquet she -gave in honor of the Senator of Rome, when one of the guests lamented -the Lady Theodora's absence from the festal board, she openly boasted, -that in youth as well as in beauty, in strength as in love, -she would vanquish Marozia's sister utterly--and when one of the -guests, commenting upon her boast, suggested with a smile that in the -time of the Emperor Gallus women fought in the arena, she bared her -arms and replied: 'Are there no chambers in this demesne where a woman -may strangle her rival?'" - -[Illustration: "A strange look passed into Theodora's eyes"] - -Theodora had listened to Basil's recital, white to the lips. Her bosom -heaved and a strange fire burnt in her eyes as she replied: - -"Dares she utter this boast, woman to woman?"-- - -Basil, checking himself, gave a shrug. - -"Misinterpret not my words, dearest lady," he said solicitously. "It -is to warn you that I came. Alberic's attitude is no longer a secret. -Roxana is leaving no stone unturned to drive you from the city, to -encompass your death--and Alberic is swayed by strange moods. Roxana -is growing bolder each day and the woman who dares challenge the Lady -Theodora is no coward." - -A strange look passed into Theodora's eyes. - -"Three days hence," she said, "I mean to give a feast to my friends, -if," she continued with lurid mockery, "I can still number such among -those who flock to my bowers. I shall ask the Lady Roxana to grace the -feast with her presence--" - -A puzzled look passed into Basil's eyes. - -"Deem you she will come?" - -Theodora's lips curved in a smile. - -"You said but just now, my lord, the woman who dares challenge Theodora -is no coward--" - -"Yet--as your guest--suspecting--knowing--" - -"I doubt not, my lord, she is well informed," Theodora interposed -with the same inscrutable smile. "Yet--if she is as brave as she is -beautiful--she will come--doubt not, my lord--she will come--" - -"Nevertheless, I question the wisdom," Basil ventured to interpose. "A -sudden spark--from nowhere--who will quench the holocaust?" - -"When Roxana and Theodora meet,--woman to woman--ah, trust me, my lord, -it will be a festive occasion--one long to be remembered. Perchance -you, my lord, who boast of a large circle know young Fabio of the -Cavalli--a comely youth with the air and manners of a girl. Persephoné, -my Circassian, could strangle him." - -"I know the youth, Lady Theodora," Basil interposed with a puzzled air. -"What of him?" - -"He once did me the honor to imagine himself in love with me. Did he -not pursue me with amorous sighs and burning glances and oaths--my -lord--such oaths! Cerberus would wince in Tartarus could he hear but -one of them--" - -Basil's lips straightened and his eyelids narrowed. - -"Pardon, Lady Theodora, if I do not quite follow the trend of your -reminiscent mood--" - -Theodora smiled. - -"You will presently, my lord--believe me--you will presently. When -I became satiated with him I sent him on his way and straightway he -sought my beautiful rival. I am told she is very fond of him--" - -A strange nervousness had seized Basil. - -"I shall bid him to the feast," Theodora continued. "'Twere scant -courtesy to request the Lady Roxaná's presence without that of her -lover. And more, my lord. Since you boast your devotion to me in such -unequivocal terms--your task it shall be to bring as your honored -guest the valiant stranger who took so brave a part in aiding the Lord -Alberic to regain his prisoner, and who, within a week, is to be the -new captain of Castel San Angelo."-- - -Basil was twitching nervously. - -"Lady Theodora, without attempting to fathom the mood which prompts -the request, am I to traverse the city in quest of a churl who has -hypnotized the Lord Alberic and has destroyed our fondest hopes?"-- - -"That it shall be for myself to decide, my Lord Basil," Theodora -replied with her inscrutable smile. "I do not desire you to fathom my -mood, but to bring to me this man. And believe me, my Lord Basil--as -you value my favor--you will find and bring him to me!" - -Half turning she flung a light vesture from off her bosom and the faint -light showed not the set Medusa face that meditated unnameable things, -but eyes alight with desire and a mouth quivering for kisses. - -As he gazed, Basil was suddenly caught in the throes of his passion. -He clutched at the ottoman's carved arms, striving to resist the tide -of emotion that tossed him like a helpless bark in its clutches and, -suddenly bearing down every restraint, his arms went round the supple -form as he crushed her to him with a wild uncontrolled passion, bending -her back, and his eyes blazed with a baleful fire into her own, while -his hot kisses scorched her lips. - -She struggled violently, desperately in his embrace, and at last -succeeded, bruised and crushed, in releasing herself. - -"Beast! Coward!" she flashed, "Can you not bridle the animal within -you? I have it in mind to kill you here and now." - -Basil's face was ashen. His eyes were bloodshot. The touch of her lips, -of her hands, had maddened him. He groaned, and his arms fell limply by -his side. Presently he raised his head and, his eyes aflame with the -madness of jealousy, he snarled: - -"So I did not go amiss, when I long suspected another in the bower of -roses. Who is he? Tell me quickly, that I may at least assuage this -hatred of mine, for its measure overflows." - -His hand closed on his dagger's hilt that was hidden by his tunic, but -Theodora rose and her own eyes flashed like naked swords as with set -face she said: - -"Have you not yet learned, my lord, how vain it is to probe the -clouds of my mind for the unseen wind that stirs behind its curtains? -Aye--crouch at my feet, you miserable slave, gone mad with the dream of -my favor possessed and wake to learn, that, as Theodora's enchantments -compel all living men, nevertheless she gives herself unto him she -pleases. I tell you, you jealous fool, that, although I serve the -goddess of night yonder, never till yesterday was my heart touched by -the divine enchantments of Venus, nor have the lips ever closed on -mine, that could kindle the spark to set my breast afire with longing." - -"Ah me!" she continued, speaking as though she thought aloud. "Will -Hekaté ever grant me to find amongst these husks of passion and -plotting that great love whereof once I dreamed, that love which I am -seeking and which ever flits before me, disembodied and unattainable, -like a ghost in the purple twilight? Or, must I wander, ever loved yet -unloving, until I am gathered to the realms of shadows, robbed of my -desire by Death's cold hand?" - -She paused, her lips a-quiver, the while Basil watched her with -half-closed eyes, filled with sudden and ominous brooding. - -"Who is the favored one?" he queried darkly, "who came and saw and -conquered, while others of long-tried loyalty are starving at the -fount?" - -She gave him an inscrutable glance, then answered quickly: - -"A man willing to risk life and honor and all to serve me as I would be -served." - -Basil gave her a baffled look. - -"Can he achieve the impossible?" - -Theodora gave a shrug. - -"To him who truly loves nothing is impossible. You are the trusted -friend of the Senator who encompasses my undoing--need I say more?" - -"Were I not, Lady Theodora, in seeming,--who knows, but that your blood -would long have dyed this Roman soil, or some dark crypt contained your -wonderful beauty? Bide but the time--" - -An impatient wave of Theodora's hand interrupted the speaker. - -"Time has me now! Will there ever be an end to this uncertainty?" - -"You have not yet told me the name of him whose sudden advent on the -stage has brought about so marvellous a transformation," Basil said -with an air of baffled passion and rage. - -"What matters the name, my lord?" Theodora interposed with a sardonic -smile. - -"A nameless stranger then," he flashed with a swiftness that staggered -even the woman, astute as she was. - -"I said not so--" - -"A circumstance that should recommend him to our consideration," he -muttered darkly. "I shall find him--and bring him to the feast--" - -There was something in his voice that roused the tigress in the woman. - -"By the powers of hell," she turned on the man whose fatal guess had -betrayed her secret, "if you but dare touch one hair of his head--" - -Basil raised his hand disdainfully. - -"Be calm, Lady Theodora! The Grand Chamberlain soils not his steel with -such carrion," he said with a tone of contempt that struck home. "And -now I will be plain with you, Lady Theodora. All things have their -price. Will you grant to me what I most desire in return for that which -is ever closest to your heart?" - -Theodora gave a tantalizing shrug. - -"Like the Fata Morgana of the desert, I am all things to all men," she -said. "Remember, my lord, I must look for that which I desire wherever -I may find it, since life and the future are uncertain." - -There was a silence during which each seemed intent upon fathoming the -secret thoughts of the other. - -It was Basil who spoke. - -"What of that other?" - -Theodora had arisen. - -"Bring him to me--three days hence--as my guest. Thrice has he crossed -my path.--Thrice has he defied me!--I have that in store for him at -which men shall marvel for all time to come!" - -Basil bent over the white hand and kissed it. Then he took his leave. -Had he seen the expression in the woman's eyes as the heavy curtains -closed behind him, it would have made the Grand Chamberlain pause. - -Theodora passed to where the bronze mirror hung and stood long before -it, with hands clasped behind her shapely head, wrapt in deepest -thought. - -And while she gazed on her mirrored loveliness, an evil light sprang up -in her eyes and all her mouth's soft lines froze to a mould of dreaming -evil, as she turned to where the image of Hekaté gazed down upon her -with inhuman calm upon its face, and, holding out shimmering, imploring -arms, she cried: - -"Help me now, dread goddess of darkness, if ever you looked with love -upon her whose prayers have been directed to you for good and for evil. -Fire the soul of him I desire, as he stands before me, that he lose -reason, honor, and manhood, as the price of my burning kisses--that he -become my utter slave." - -She clapped her hands and Persephoné appeared from behind the curtains. - -"For once Fate is my friend," she turned with flashing eyes to the -Circassian. "Before his departure to the shrines of the Archangel, -Alberic has appointed this nameless stranger captain of Castel San -Angelo. Go--find him and bring him to me! Now we shall see," she added, -"if all this beauty of mine shall prevail against his manhood. Your -eyes express doubt, my sweet Persephoné?" - -Theodora had raised herself to her full height. She looked regal -indeed--a wonderful apparition. What man lived there to resist such -loveliness of face and form? - -Persephoné, too, seemed to feel the woman's magic, for her tone was -less confident when she replied: - -"Such beauty as the Lady Theodora's surely the world has never seen." - -"I shall conquer--by dread Hekaté," Theodora flashed, flushed by -Persephoné's unwitting tribute. "He shall open for me the portals of -the Emperor's Tomb, he shall sue at my feet for my love--and obtain his -guerdon. Not a word of this to anyone, my Persephoné--least of all, the -Lord Basil. Bring the stranger to me by the postern--" - -"But--if he refuse?" - -There was something in Persephoné's tone that stung Theodora's soul to -the quick. - -"He will not refuse." - -Persephoné bowed and departed, and for some time Theodora's dark -inscrutable eyes brooded on the equally inscrutable face of the goddess -of the Underworld, which was just then touched by a fugitive beam of -sunlight and seemed to nod mysteriously. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A SPIRIT PAGEANT - - -When, on the day succeeding his appointment Tristan returned to the -Inn of the Golden Shield he felt as one in a trance. Like a puppet of -Fate he had been plunged into the seething maelstrom of feudal Rome. -He hardly realized the import of the scene in which he had played so -prominent a part. He had acted upon impulse, hardly knowing what it was -all about. Dimly at intervals it flashed through his consciousness, -dimly he remembered facing two youths, the one the Senator of Rome--the -other the High Priest of Christendom, even though a prisoner in the -Lateran. Vaguely he recalled the words that had been spoken between -them, vaguely he recalled the fact that the Senator of Rome had -commended him for having saved the city, offering him appointment, -holding out honor and preferment, if he would enter his service. -Vaguely he remembered bending his knee before the proud son of Marozia -and accepting his good offices. - -In the guest-chamber Tristan found pilgrims from every land assembled -round the tables discoursing upon the wonders and perils hidden in the -strange and shifting corridors of Rome. Not a few had witnessed the -scene in which he had so conspicuously figured and, upon recognizing -him, regarded him with shy glances, while commenting upon the -prevailing state of unrest, the periodical seditions and outbreaks of -the Romans. - -Tristan listened to the buzz and clamor of their voices, gleaning here -and there some scattered bits of knowledge regarding Roman affairs. - -He could now review more calmly the events of the preceding day. -Fortune seemed to have favored him indeed, in that she had led him -across the path of the Senator of Rome. - -Thus Tristan set out once again, to make the rounds of worship and -obedience. These absolved, he wandered aimlessly about the great city, -losing himself in her ruins and gardens, while he strove in vain to -take an interest in what he beheld, rather distracted than amused by -the Babel-like confusion which surrounded him on all sides. - -Nevertheless, once more upon the piazzas and tortuous streets of Rome, -his pace quickened. His pulses beat faster. At times he did not feel -his feet upon those stony ways which Peter and Paul had trod, and many -another who, like himself, had come to Rome to be crucified. People -stared at his dark and sombre form as he passed. Now and then he was -retarded by chanting processions, that wound their interminable coils -through the tortuous streets, pilgrims from all the world, the various -orders of monks in the habits peculiar to their orders, wine-venders, -water-carriers, men-at-arms, sbirri, and men of doubtful calling. -Sacred banners floated in the sunlit air and incense curled its -graceful spiral wreaths into the cloudless Roman ether. - -Surely Rome offered a wide field for ambition. A man might raise -himself to a certain degree by subservience to some powerful prince, -but he must continue to serve that prince, or he fell and would never -aspire to independent domination, where hereditary power was recognized -by the people and lay at the foundation of all acknowledged authority. -It was only in Central Italy, and especially in Romagna and the States -of the Church, where a principle antagonistic to all hereditary claims -existed in the very nature of the Papal power, so that any adventurer -might hope, either by his individual genius or courage, or by services -rendered to those in authority, to raise himself to independent rule or -to that station which was only attached to a superior by the thin and -worn-out thread of feudal tenure. - -Rome was the field still open to the bold spirit, the keen and -clear-seeing mind. Rome was the table on which the boldest player was -sure to win the most. With every change of the papacy new combinations, -and, consequently, new opportunities must arise. Here a man may, as -elsewhere, be required to serve, in order at length to command. But, if -he did not obtain power at length, it was his fault or Fortune's, and -in either event he must abide the consequences. - -Revolving in his mind these matters, and wondering what the days to -come would hold, Tristan permitted himself to wander aimlessly through -the desolation which arose on all sides about him. - -Passing by the Forum and the Colosseum, ruins piled upon ruins, he -wandered past San Gregorio, where, in the garden, lie the remains of -the Servian Porta Capena, by which St. Paul first entered Rome. The Via -Appia, lined with vineyards and fruit-trees, shedding their blossoms -on many an ancient tomb, led the solitary pilgrim from the memories of -the present to the days, when the light of the early Christian Church -burned like a flickering taper hidden low in Roman soil. - -The ground sweeping down on either side in gentle, but well-defined -curves, led the vision over the hills of Rome and into her valleys. -Beneath a cloudless, translucent sky the city was caught in bold shafts -of crystal light, revealing her in so strong a relief that it seemed -like a piece of exquisite sculpture. - -Fronting the Coelian, crowned with the temple church of San Stefano -in Rotondo, fringed round with tall and graceful poplars, rose the -immeasurable ruins of Caracalla's Baths, seeming more than ever the -work of titans, as Tristan saw them, shrouded in deep shadows above -the old churches of San Nereo and San Basilio, shining like white -huts, a stone's throw from the mighty walls. Beyond, as a beacon of -the Christian world in ages to come, on the site of the ancient Circus -of Nero, arose the Basilica of Constantine, still in its pristine -simplicity, ere the genius of Michel Angelo, Bramanté and Sangallo -transformed it into the magnificence of the present St. Peter's. - -For miles around stretched the Aurelian walls, here fallen in low -ruins, there still rising in their proud strength. Weathered to every -shade of red, orange, and palest lemon, they still showed much of -their ancient beauty near the closed Latin gate. High towers, arched -galleries and battlements cast a broad band of shade upon a line of -peach trees whose blossoms had opened out to the touch of the summer -breeze. - -Beneath Tristan's feet, unknown to him, lay the sepulchral chambers of -pagan patricians, and the winding passage tombs of the Scipios. Out of -the sunshine of the vineyard Tristan's curiosity led him into the dusk -of the Columbaria of Pomponius Hylas, full of stucco altar tombs. He -descended into the lower chambers with arched corridors and vaulted -roofs where, in the loculi, stood terra-cotta jars holding the ashes -of the freedmen and musicians of Tiberius with their servants, even to -their cook. - -Returning full of wonder to the golden light of day, Tristan retraced -his steps once again over the Appian Way. Passing the ruined Circus -of Maxentius, across smooth fields of grass, he saw the fortress tomb -of Cæcilia Metella, set grandly upon the hill. It appeared to break -through the sunshine, its marble surface of a soft cream color, looking -more like the shrine of some immortal goddess of the Campagna than the -tomb of a Roman matron. - -And, as he wandered along the Appian Way, past the site of lava -pools from Mount Alba, remains of ancient monuments lay thicker -by the roadside. Prostrate statues appeared in a setting of wild -flowers. Sculptured heads gazed out from half-hidden tombs, while one -watch-tower after another rose out of the undulating expanse of the -Campagna. - -To Tristan the memories of an ancient empire which clung to the place -held but little significance. - -Here emperors had been carried by in their litters to Albano. -Victorious generals returning in their chariots from the south, drove -between these avenues of cypress-guarded tombs to Rome. The body of -the dead Augustus had been brought with great following from Bovilæ to -the Palatine, as before him Sulla had been borne along to Rome amid -the sound of trumpets and tramp of horsemen. Near the fourth milestone -stood Seneca's villa, where he received his death warrant from an -emissary of Nero, and nearby was that of his wife who, by her own -desire, bravely shared his fate. - -And, last to haunt the Appian Way in the spirit pageant of the Golden -Age, a memory destined to lie dormant till the dawn of the Renaissance, -was Paul the Apostle, the tent-maker from Tarsus, who entered Rome -while Nero reigned in the white marble city of Augustus and suffered -martyrdom for the Faith. - -It was verging towards evening when Tristan's feet again bore him past -the stupendous ruins of the Colosseum, through the roofless upper -galleries of which streamed the light of the sinking sun. - -After reaching the Forum, almost deserted by this hour, save for a few -belated ramblers, he seated himself on a marble block and tried to -collect his thoughts, at the same time drinking in the picture which -unrolled itself before his gaze. - -If Rome was indeed, as the chroniclers of the Middle Ages styled her, -"Caput Mundi," the Forum was the centre of Rome. From this centre -Rome threw out and informed her various feelers, farther and farther -radiating in all directions, as she swelled out with greatness, drawing -her sustenance first from her sacred hills and groves, then from the -very marbles and granites of the mountains of Asia and Africa, from the -lives of all sorts of peoples, races and nations. And like the Emperor -Constantine, as we are told by Ammianus Marcellinus, on beholding the -Forum from the Rostra of Domitian, stood wonder-stricken, so Tristan, -even at this period of decay, was amazed at the grandeur of the ruins -which bore witness to Rome's former greatness. - -The sound of the Angelus, whose silvery chimes permeated the tomb-like -stillness, roused Tristan from his reveries. - -He arose and continued upon his way, until he found himself in the -square fronting the ancient Basilica of Constantine. - -Notwithstanding the fact that it was a Vigil of the Church, popular -exhibitions of all sorts were set upon the broad flagstones before -St. Peter's. Street dancing girls indulged on every available spot in -those gliding gyrations, so eloquently condemned by the worthy Ammianus -Marcellinus of orderly and historical memory. Booths crammed with -relics of doubtful authenticity, baskets filled with fruits or flowers, -pictorial representations of certain martyrs of the Church, basking -in haloes of celestial light, tempted in every direction the worldly -and unworldly spectators. Cooks perambulated, their shops upon their -backs, merchants shouted their wares, wine-sellers taught Bacchanalian -philosophy from the tops of their casks; poets recited spurious -compositions which they offered for sale; philosophers indulged in -argumentations destined to convert the wavering, or to perplex the -ignorant. Incessant motion and noise seemed to be the sole aim and -purpose of the crowd which thronged the square. - -Nothing could be more picturesque than the distant view of the joyous -scene, this Carnival in Midsummer, as it were. - -The deep red rays of the westering sun cast their radiance, partly -from behind the Basilica, over the vast multitude in the piazza. In -unrivalled splendor the crimson light tinted the water that purled from -the fountain of Bishop Symmachus. Its roof of gilded bronze, supported -by six porphyry columns, was enclosed by small marble screens on which -griffins were carved, its corners ornamented by gilded dolphins and -peacocks in bronze. The water flowed into a square basin from out -of a bronze pine cone which may have come from Hadrian's Mausoleum. -Bathed in the brilliant glow the smooth porphyry colonnades reflected, -chameleon-like, ethereal and varying hues. The white marble statues -became suffused with delicate rose, and the trees gleamed in the -innermost of their leafy depths as if steeped in the exhalations of a -golden mist. - -Contrasting strangely with the wondrous radiance around it, the bronze -pine-tree in the centre of the piazza rose up in gloomy shadow, -indefinite and exaggerated. The wide facade of the Basilica cast its -great depth of shade into the midst of the light which dominated the -scene. - -Tristan stood for a time gazing into the glowing sky, then he slowly -made his way towards the Basilica, the edifice which commemorated the -establishment of Christianity as the state religion of Rome, as in its -changes it has reflected every change wrought in the spirit of the new -worship up to the present hour. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE DENUNCIATION - - -The Basilica of Constantine no longer retained its pristine splendor, -its pristine purity as in the days, ere the revival of paganism by the -Emperor Julian the Apostate had put a sudden and impressive check upon -the meretricious defilement of the glory, for which it was built. - -The exterior began to show signs of decay. The interior, too, had -changed with the inexorable trend of the times. The solemn recesses -were filled with precious relics. Many hued tapers surrounded the -glorious pillars, and eastern tapestries wreathed their fringes round -the massive altars. - -As Tristan entered the incense-saturated dusk of St. Peter's, the first -part of the service had just been concluded. The last faint echoes from -the voices in the choir still hovered upon the air, and the silent -crowds of worshippers were still grouped in their listening attitudes -and absorbed in their devotions. - -The only light was bestowed by the evening sun, duskily illuminating -the emblazoned windows, or by the glimmer of lamps in distant -shrines, hung with sable velvet and attended each by its own group of -ministering priests. - -Struck with an indefinable awe Tristan looked about. At first he only -realized the great space, the four long rows of closely set columns, -and the great triumphal arch which framed the mosaics of the apse, -where Constantine stood in the clouds offering his Basilica to the -Saviour and St. Peter. Then he looked towards the sacred shrines -above the Apostle's grave, where lamps burned incessantly and cast a -dazzling halo above the high altar, reflected in the silver paving of -the presbytery and on the golden gates and images of the Confessio. -Immediately behind the altar was revealed a long panel of gold, studded -with gems and ornaments, with figures of Christ and the Apostles, a -native offering from the Emperor Valentinian III. The high altar and -its brilliant surroundings were seen from the nave between a double row -of twisted marble columns, white as snow. A beam covered with plates of -silver united them and supported great silver images of the Saviour, -the Virgin and the Apostles with lilies and candelabra. - -To their shrines, to do homage, had in time come the Kings from all -the earth: Oswy, King of the Northumbrians, Cædwalla, King of the -West Saxons, Coenred, King of the Mercians, and with him his son -Sigher, King of the East Saxons. Even Macbeth is said to have made -the pilgrimage. Ethelwulf came in the middle of the ninth century, -and with him came his son Alfred. In the arcades beneath the columned -vestibule of the Basilica, tomb succeeded tomb. Here the popes were -buried, Leo I, the Great, being first in line, the Saxon Pilgrim Kings, -the Emperors Honorius III and Theodosius II, regarding whom St. John -Chrysostomus has written: "Emperors were proud to stand in the hall -keeping guard at the fisherman's door." - -During the interval between the divisions of the service, Tristan, -like many of those present, found his interest directed towards the -relics, which were inclosed in a silver cabinet with crystal doors and -placed above the high altar. Although it was impossible to obtain a -satisfactory view of these ecclesiastical treasures, they nevertheless -occupied his attention till it was diverted by the appearance of a -monk in the habit of the Benedictines, who had mounted the richly -carved pulpit fixed between two pillars. - -As far as Tristan was enabled to follow the trend of the sermon it -teemed with allusions to the state of society and religion as it -prevailed throughout the Christian world, and especially in the city -of the Pontiff. By degrees the monk's eloquence took on darker and -more terrible tints, as he seemed slowly to pass from generalities to -personal allusions, which increased the fear and mortification of the -great assembly with every moment. - -From the shadows of the shrine, where he had chosen his station, -Tristan was enabled to mark every shade of the emotions which swayed -the multitudes and, as his eyes roamed inadvertently towards the chapel -of the Father Confessor, he saw a continuous stream of penitents enter -the dark passage leading towards the crypts, many of whom were masked. - -Turning his head by chance, Tristan's glance fell upon two men who had -apparently just entered the Basilica and paused a few paces away, to -listen to the words which the monk hurled like thunderbolts across the -heads of his listeners. Despite their precaution to wear masks, Tristan -recognized the Grand Chamberlain in the one, while his companion, the -hunchback, appeared rather uncomfortable in the sanctified air of the -Basilica. - -Hitherto Odo of Cluny's attacks on the existing state had been general. -Now he glanced over the crowd, as if in quest of some special object, -as with strident voice he declaimed: - -"Repent! Death stands behind you! The flag of your glory shall cease -to wave on the towers of your strong citadel. Destruction clamors at -your palace gates, and the enemy that cometh upon you unaware is an -enemy that none shall vanquish or subdue, not even they who are the -mightiest among the mighty. Blood stains the earth and the sky. Its -red waves swallow up the land! The heavens grow pale and tremble! The -silver stars blacken and decay, and the winds of the desert make lament -for that which shall come to pass, ere ever the grapes be pressed or -the harvest gathered. It is a scarlet sea wherein, like a broken and -deserted ship, Rome flounders, never to rise again--" - -He paused for a moment and caught his breath hard. - -"The Scarlet Woman of Babylon is among us!" he cried. "Hence! accursed -tempter. Thou poisoner of peace, thou quivering sting in the flesh, -destroyer of the strength of manhood! Theodora!--thou abomination--thou -tyrannous treachery! What shall be done unto thee in the hour of -darkness? Put off the ornaments of gold, the jewels, wherewith thou -adornest thy beauty, and crown thyself with the crown of endless -affliction. For thou shalt be girdled about with flame and fire shall -be thy garment. Thy lips that have drunk sweet wine shall be steeped -in bitterness! Vainly shalt thou make thyself fair and call upon thy -legion of lovers. They shall be as dead men, deaf to thine entreaties, -and none shall respond to thy call! None shall hide thee from shame -and offer thee comfort! In the midst of thy lascivious delights shalt -thou suddenly perish, and my soul shall be avenged on thy sins, -queen-courtesan of the earth!" - -Scarcely had the last word died to silence when a blinding flash of -lightning rent the gloom followed by a tremendous crash of thunder -that shook the great edifice to its foundation. The bronze portals -opened as of their own accord and a terrific gust of wind extinguished -every light in the thousand-jetted candelabrum. Impenetrable darkness -reigned--thick, suffocating darkness, as the thunder rolled away in -grand, sullen echoes. - -There was a momentary lull, then, piercing the profound gloom, came -the cries and shrieks of frightened women, the horrible, selfish -scrambling, struggling and pushing of a bewildered multitude. A -veritable frenzy of fear seemed to possess every one. Groans and sobs, -entreaties and curses from those, who, intent on saving themselves, -were brutally trying to force a passage to the door, the heart-rending, -frantic appeals of the women--all these sounds increased the horror -of the situation, and Tristan, blind, giddy and confused, listened to -the uproar about him with somewhat of the affrighted, panic-stricken -compassion that a stranger in hell might feel, while hearkening to the -ceaseless plaints of the self-tortured damned. - -Lost in a dim stupefaction of wonderment, Tristan remained where he -stood, while the crowds rushed from the Basilica. As he was about to -follow in their wake, his gaze was attracted towards the chapel of the -Grand Penitentiary, from which came a number of masked personages while -he, to whose keeping were confided crimes of a magnitude that seemed -beyond the extensive powers of absolution, was barely visible under the -cowl, which was drawn deeply over his forehead. - -The thought occurred to Tristan to seek the ear of the Confessor, in as -much as the Pontiff to whom he had hoped to lay bare his heart could -not grant him an audience. - -The lateness of the hour and the uncertainty of the fate of the Monk -of Cluny prevented him from following the prompting of the moment and, -staggering rather than walking, Tristan made for the portals of St. -Peter's and walked unseeing into the gathering dusk. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -THE CONFESSION - - -The storm had abated, but the sheen of white lightnings to southward -and the menacing growl of distant thunder that seemed to come from the -bowels of the earth held out promise of renewed upheavals of disturbed -nature. - -The streets of Rome were comparatively deserted with the swiftly -approaching dusk, and it occurred to Tristan to seek the Monk of Cluny -in his abode on Mount Aventine whither he had doubtlessly betaken -himself after his sermon in the Basilica of St. Peter's. For ever and -ever the memory of lost Hellayne dominated his thoughts, and, while he -poured out prayers for peace at the shrines of the saints, with the -eyes of the soul he saw not the image of the Virgin, but of the woman -for the sake of whom he had come hither and, having come, knew not -where to find that which he sought. - -From a passing friar Tristan learned the direction of Mount Aventine, -where, among the ruins near the newly erected Church of Santa Maria of -the Aventine, Odo of Cluny abode. Tristan could not but marvel at the -courage of the man whose life was in hourly jeopardy and who, in the -face of an ever present menace could put his trust so completely in -Heaven as to brave the danger without even a guard.-- - -Taking the road indicated by the friar, Tristan pursued his solitary -path. In seeking the Monk of Cluny his purpose was a twofold one, -certainty with regard to his own guilt, in having loved where love was -a crime, and counsel with regard to the woman who, he instinctively -felt, would not stop at her first innuendos. - -As Tristan proceeded on his way his feelings and motives became more -and more perplexed, and so lost was he in thought that, without heeding -his way or noting the scattered arches and porticoes, he lost himself -in the wilderness of the Mount of Cloisters. The hush was intensified -rather than broken by the ever louder peals of thunder, which -reverberated through the valleys, and the Stygian darkness, broken at -intervals by vivid flashes of lightning, seemed to hem him in, as a -wall of basalt. - -Gradually all traces of a road vanished. On both sides rose woody -acclivities, covered with ruins and melancholy cypresses, whose -spectral outlines seemed to stretch into gaunt immensity, in the sheen -of the lightnings which grew more and more frequent. The wind rose -sobbingly among the trees, and a few scattered rain-drops began to warn -Tristan that a shelter of any sort would be preferable to exposing -himself to the onslaught of the elements. - -Entering the first group of ruins he came to, he penetrated through -a series of roofless corridors and chambers into what seemed a dark -cylindrical well at the farther extremity of which there gleamed an -infinitesimal light. Even through the clamor of the storm that raged -outside there came to him the sound of voices from the interior. - -Impelled as much by curiosity as by the consideration of his own safety -Tristan crept slowly towards the aperture. As he did so, the light -vanished, but a crimson glow, as of smouldering embers, succeeded, -and heavy fumes of incense, wafted to his nostrils, informed him that -his fears regarding the character of the abode were but too well -founded. He cowered motionless in the gloom until the storm had abated, -determined to return at some time to discover what mysteries the place -concealed. - -A fresher breeze had sprung up, driving the thunderclouds to northward, -and from a clear azure the stars shone in undimmed lustre upon the -dreaming world beneath. - -For a moment Tristan stood gazing at the immense desolation, the -wilderness of arches, shattered columns and ivy-covered porticoes. The -hopelessness of finding among these relics of antiquity the monk's -hermitage impressed itself at once upon him. Pausing irresolutely, -he would probably have retraced his steps, had he not chanced to see -some one emerge from the adjacent ruins, apparently bound in the same -direction. - -Whether it was a presentiment of evil, or whether the fear bred of -the region and the hour of the night prompted the precaution, Tristan -receded into the shadows and watched the approaching form, in whom he -recognized Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. He at once resolved to follow -him and the soft ground aided the execution of his design. - -The way wound through a veritable labyrinth of ruins, nevertheless -he kept his eyes on the tall dark form, stalking through the night -before him. At times an owl or bat whirled over his head. With these -exceptions he encountered no living thing among the ruins to break the -hush of the sepulchral desolation. - -The distance between them gradually diminished. Tristan saw the other -turn to the right into a wilderness of grottoes, the tortuous corridors -of which were at times almost choked up with weeds and wild flowers, -but when he reached the spot, there was no vestige of a human presence. -Basil had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him. - -Possessed by a sudden fear that some harm might be intended the monk -and remembering certain veiled threats he had overheard against his -life, he proceeded more slowly and cautiously by the dim light of the -stars. - -Before long he found himself before a flight of grass grown steps that -led up to a series of desolate chambers which, although roofless -and choked with rank vegetation, still bore traces of their ancient -splendor. These corridors led to a clumsy door, standing half ajar, -from beyond which shone the faint glimmer of a light. - -After having reached the threshold Tristan paused. - -High, oval-shaped apertures admitted light and air at once, and the -dying embers of a charcoal fire revealed a chamber, singularly void of -all the comforts of existence. Almost in the centre of this chamber, -before a massive stone table, upon which was spread a huge tome, sat -the Monk of Cluny, shading his eyes with his right hand and reading -half aloud. - -For a few moments Tristan regarded the recluse breathlessly, as if he -dreaded disturbing his meditations, when Odo suddenly raised his eyes -and saw the dark form standing in the frame of the door. - -The look which he bestowed upon Tristan convinced the latter -immediately of the doubt which the monk harbored regarding the quality -of his belated caller, a doubt which he deemed well to disperse before -venturing into the monk's retreat. - -Therefore, without abandoning his position, he addressed the inmate of -the chamber and, as he spoke, the tone of his voice seemed to carry -conviction, that the speaker was sincere. - -"Your pardon, father," Tristan stammered, "for one who is seeking you -in an hour of grave doubt and misgiving." - -The monk's ear had caught the accent of a foreign tongue. He beckoned -to Tristan to enter, rising from the bench on which he had been seated. - -"You come at a strange hour," he said, not without a note of suspicion, -which did not escape Tristan. "Your business must be weighty indeed -to embolden one, a stranger on Roman soil, to penetrate the desolate -Aventine when the world sleeps and murder stalks abroad." - -"I am here for a singular purpose, father,--having obeyed the impulse -of the moment, after listening to your sermon at St. Peter's." - -"But that was hours ago," interposed the monk, resting his hand on the -stone table, as he faced his visitor. - -"I lost my way--nor did I meet any one to point it," Tristan replied, -as he advanced and kissed the monk's hand reverently. - -"What is your business, my son?" asked the monk. - -Tristan hesitated a moment. At last he spoke. - -"I came to Rome not of my own desire,--but obeying the will of another -that imposed the pilgrimage. I have sinned, father--and yet there are -moments, when I would almost glory in that which I have done. It was -my purpose, while at St. Peter's to confess to the Grand Penitentiary. -But--I know not why--I chose you instead, knowing that you would give -truth for truth." - -The monk regarded his visitor, wondering what one so young and -possessed of so frank a countenance might have done amiss. - -"You are a pilgrim?" he queried at last. - -"For my sins--" - -"Of French descent, yet not a Frenchman--" - -Tristan started at the monk's penetration. - -"From Provence, father," he stammered, "the land of songs and flowers--" - -"And women--" the monk interposed gravely. - -"There are women everywhere, father." - -"There are women and women. Perchance I should say 'Woman.'" - -Tristan bowed his head in silence. - -The monk cast a penetrating glance at his visitor. He understood the -gesture and the silence with that quick comprehension that came to him -who was to reform Holy Catholic Church from the abuse of decades--as an -intuition. - -"But now, my son, speak of yourself," said the monk after a pause. - -"I lived at the court of Avalon, the home of Love and Troubadours." - -"Of Troubadours?" the monk interposed dreamily. "A worldly lot--given -to extolling free love and what not--" - -"They may sing of love and passion, father, but their lives are pure -and chaste," Tristan ventured to remonstrate. - -"You are a Troubadour?" came the swift query. - -"In my humble way." Tristan replied with bowed head. - -The monk nodded. - -"Go on--go on!" - -"At the court of Avalon I met the consort of Count Roger de Laval. He -was much absent, on one business or another,--the chase--feuds with -neighboring barons.--He chose me to help the Lady Hellayne to while -away the long hours during his absence--" - -"His wife! What folly!" - -"The Count de Laval is one of those men who would tempt the heavens -themselves to fall upon him rather than to air himself beneath them. -That his fair young wife, doing his will among men given to the chase -and drinking bouts, and the society of tainted damsels, should long for -something higher, she, whom he regarded with the high air of the lord -of creation--that she should dare dream of some intangible something, -for which she hungered, and craved and starved--" - -"If you are about to confess, as I conceive, to a wrong you have done -to this same lord," interposed the monk, "your sin is not less black if -you paint him you have wronged in odious tints." - -"Nevertheless I am most sorry to do so, father," Tristan interposed, -"else could I not make you understand to its full extent his folly and -conceit by placing me, a creature of emotion, day by day beside so -fair a being as his young wife. Therefore I would explain." - -"It needs some explanation truly!" the monk said sternly. - -"The Count de Laval is a man whose conceit is so colossal, father, that -he would never think it possible that any one could fail in love and -admiration at the shrine which he built for himself. A man of supreme -arrogance and self-righteousness." - -"Sad, indeed--" mused the monk. - -"Our thoughts were pagan, drifting back to the days when the world was -peopled with sylvan creatures--with the deities of field and stream--" - -"Mere heathen dreams," interposed the monk. "Go on! Go on!" - -"I then felt within myself the impulse to throw forth a minstrelsy -prophetic of a new world resembling that old which had vanished. It was -not to be a mere chant of wrath or exultation--it was to sound the joy -of the earth, of the air, of the sun, of the moon and the stars,--the -song of the birds, the perfume of the flowers--" - -"Words that have but little meaning left in this stern world wherein we -dwell--" - -"They had meaning for me, father. Also for her. They were to both of -us a bright and mystical ideal, in the fumes of which we steeped our -souls,--our very selves, till our natures seemed to know no hurt, -seemed incapable of evil--" - -"Alas--the greater the pity!" - -"I was sure of myself. She was sure of me. I loved her. Her presence -was to me as some intoxication of the soul--some rare perfume that -captivates the senses, raising the spirit to heights too rarefied for -breath--" - -"And you fell?" - -The words came from the monk's lips, slowly, inexorably, as the knell -of fate. - -"I--all, but fell!" stammered Tristan. "One day in a chamber far -removed from the inhabited part of the castle we sat and read. And -suddenly she laid her face close to mine and with eyes in whose mystic -depths lurked something more than I had ever seen in them before asked -why, through Fate's high necessity, two should forever wander side by -side, longing for each other--their longing unsatisfied--when the hour -was theirs--" - -Again Tristan paused. - -The monk regarded him in silence. - -"You fell?" the question came again. - -"In that moment, father, I was no more myself, no more the one whose -art is sacred and alone upon the mountain summit of his soul. Its -freedom and aspirations were no more. I was undone, a tumbled, wingless -thing. My pride had fled. Long, long I looked into her eyes, and when -she put her wonderful white arms about me, I, in a dizzy moment of -desire, dropped my face to hers. Then was love all uttered. Straightway -I arose. I clasped her in my arms. I kissed--I kissed her--" - -The monk regarded him sternly, yet not unkindly. - -"It was a sin. Yet--there is more?" - -Tristan's hands were clasped. - -"One evening in the rose garden--at dusk--the evening on which she sent -me from her--bade me go to Rome to obtain forgiveness for a sin of -which I could not repent." - -The monk nodded. "Go on! Go on!" - -"The world had fallen away from us. We stood in a grove, our arms about -each other. Suddenly I saw a face. I withdrew my arm, overwhelmed by -all the shame of guilt. The face vanished and, passion overmastering -once more, we touched our lips anew. It was the last time we were to -see each other. I left behind the wondrous silken hair my hands had -touched in our last mad caress. I left behind that tender face and -form. She made no attempt to follow, or to call me back. I hastened -to my chamber, and there I fought anew with all that evil impulse of -my youth, to face the shame, as long as joy endured. If I had sinned -in mind against my high ideal might I not some day recover it and be -purified?" - -"What of God and Holy Church?" queried the monk. - -"To them I gave no heed, but to my honor. This upheld me." - -The monk gave a nod. - -"I left Avalon. It seemed as if without her my life were ebbing away. I -joined a pilgrim party, and now my pilgrimage is ended. What must I do -to still this inward craving that will not leave my soul at peace?" - -He ended in a sob. - -The monk had relapsed into deep thought, and Tristan's eyes were -riveted on the ascetic form in silent dread, as to what would be the -verdict. - -At last Odo broke the heavy silence. - -"You have committed a grievous sin--adultery--nay, speak not!" he said, -as Tristan attempted to remonstrate against the dire accusation. "The -seed of every act slumbers in the mind ere its pernicious shoots are -manifest in deeds. He who looks upon a woman with the desire to possess -her has already committed adultery with her. Yet--not one in a thousand -would have done so nobly under such temptation!" - -The monk's voice betrayed some feeling as he placed his hand on -Tristan's bowed head. - -"I shall consider what penances are most fit for one who has -transgressed as you have, my son. It is for your future life--perchance -Holy Orders--" - -Tristan raised his head imploringly. - -"Not that, father,--not that! I am not fit!" - -The monk regarded him quizzically. - -"The lust of the eye is mighty and the fever of the world still burns -in your veins, my son, rebelling against the passion that chastens and -purifies. Nevertheless, the Church desires no enforced service. She -wishes to be served through love, not with aversion and fear. Continue -to do penance, implore His forgiveness, and that He may take from you -this worldly desire." - -Kissing anew the hand which the monk extended, Tristan arose, after Odo -had made upon him the holy sign. - -"I shall obey your behest," he said in a low, broken voice, then -withdrew, while the Monk of Cluny returned to his former pursuit, -unconscious that another had witnessed and overheard the strange -confession from a recess in the wall. - -As one in a trance Tristan left the Monk of Cluny, his heart filled -with gratitude for the man who, in the midst of a world of strife and -unrest, had listened to his tale and had not dealt harshly with him, -but had received him sympathetically, even while rebuking the offence. -While the penances imposed upon him were not severe, Tristan chafed -nevertheless under the restraint they laid upon his soul. - -What was his future life to be? What new vistas would open before him? -What new impressions would superimpose themselves upon the memories of -the past--the memory of Hellayne? - -As he passed the church of Santa Maria of the Aventine, Tristan saw -the portals open. Puzzled over the problems he was face in the days to -come, he entered the dim shadows of the sanctuary. - -All that night Tristan knelt in solitary prayer. - -The great church was empty and silent, unlit save for the lamp upon the -altar. There Tristan kept his vigil, his tired, tearful eyes upon the -crucifixion, searching his own heart. - -The night of silence brought him no vision and shed no light upon his -path. The pale dawn found him still upon his knees before the altar, -his eyes upon the drooping form of the crucified Christ. - -Thus the monks found him when they entered for early Matins. At last he -arose, in his sombre eyes a touching resignation and infinite regret. - -END OF BOOK THE FIRST - - - - -BOOK THE SECOND - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE GRAND CHAMBERLAIN - - -Castel San Angelo, the Tomb of the Flavian Emperor, seemed rather to -have been built for a great keep, a breakwater as it were to stem the -rush of barbarian seas which were wont to come storming down from -the frozen north, than for the resting-place of the former master -of the world. Its constructors had aimed at nothing less than its -everlastingness. So thick were its bastioned walls, so thick the -curtains which divided its inner and outer masonry, that no force of -nature seemed capable of honeycombing or weakening them. - -Hidden within its screens and vaults, like the gnawings of a foul and -intricate cancer, ran dark passages which discharged themselves here -and there into dreadful dungeons, or secret places not guessed at in -the common tally of its rooms. - -These oubliettes were hideous with blotched and spotted memories, -rotten with the dew of suffering, eloquent in their terror and -corruption and darkness of the cruelty which turned to these walls for -security. The hiss and purr of subterranean fires, the grinding of low, -grated jaws, the flop and echo of stagnant water that oozed from a -stagnant inner moat into vermin-swarming, human-haunted cellars: these -sounds spoke even less of grief than the hellish ferment in the souls -of those who had lorded it in this keep since the fall of the Western -Empire. - -On this night there hung an air of menace about the Mausoleum of the -Flavian Emperor which seemed enhanced by the roar and clatter of -the tempest that raged over the seven-hilled city. Snaky twists of -lightning leaped athwart the driving darkness, and deafening peals of -thunder reverberated in deep, booming echoes through the inky vault of -the heavens. - -In one of the upper chambers of the huge granite pile, which seemed to -defy the very elements, in a square room, dug out of the very rock, -containing but one window that appeared as a deep wedge in the wall, -piercing to the sheer flank of the tower, there sat, brooding over a -letter he held in his hand, Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. - -The drowsy odor of incense, smouldering in the little purple shrine -lamp, robbed the air of its last freshness. - -A tunic of dark velvet, fur bound and girt with a belt of finest -Moorish steel, was relieved by an undervest of deepest crimson. Woven -hose to match the tunic ended in crimson buskins of soft leather. The -mantle and the skull cap which he had discarded lay beside him on the -floor, guarded by a tawny hound of the ancient Molossian breed. - -By the fitful light of the two waxen tapers, which flickered dismally -under the onslaught of the elements, the inmate of the chamber slowly -and laboriously deciphered the letter. Then he placed it in his -doublet, lapsing into deep rumination, as one who is vainly seeking to -solve a problem that defies solution. - -Rising at last from his chair Basil paced the narrow confines of the -chamber, whose crimson walls seemed to form a fitting background for -the dark-robed occupant. - -Outside, the storm howled furiously, flinging gusty dashes of rain and -hail against the stone masonry and clattering noisily with every blow -inflicted upon the solid rock. - -When, spent by its own fury, the hurricane abated for a moment, the -faint sound of a bell tolling the Angelus could be heard whimpering -through the night. - -When Basil had left Theodora after their meeting at the palace, there -had been a darker light in his eyes, a something more ominous of evil -in his manner. While his passion had utterly enslaved him, making -him a puppet in the hands of the woman whose boundless ambition must -inevitably lead her either to the heights of the empire whereof she -dreamed, or to the deepest abyss of hell, Basil was far from being -content to occupy a position which made him merely a creature of her -will and making. To mount the throne with the woman whose beauty had -set his senses aflame, to rule the city of Rome from the ramparts of -Castel San Angelo, as Ugo of Tuscany by the side of Marozia, this was -the dream of the man who would leave no stone unturned to accomplish -the ambition of his life. - -In an age where certain dark personalities appeared terribly sane to -their contemporaries, their occult dealings with powers whose existence -none questioned must have seemed terribly real to themselves and to -those who gazed from afar. When the mad were above the sane in power, -and beyond the reach of observation, there was no limit to their -baleful activity. - -Basil, from the early days of his youth, had lived in a world of evil -spirits, imaginary perhaps for us, but real enough for those who might -at any moment be at his mercy. Stimulating his mad desire with the -potent drug which the Saracens had brought with them from the scented -East, he pushed his hashish-born imaginings to the very throne of -Evil. His ambition, which was boundless, and centred in the longed for -achievement of a hope too stupendous even for thought, had intimately -connected him with those whose occult researches put them outside the -pale of the Church, and the power he wielded in the shadowy world of -demons was as unchallenged as that which he felt himself wielding in -the tangible world of men. - -Among the people there was no end to the dark stories of magic and -poison, some of them real enough, that were whispered about him, and -many a belated rambler looked with a shudder up to the light that -burned in a chamber of his palace on the Pincian Hill till the wee, -small hours of the night. Had he been merely a practitioner of the -Black Arts he would probably long since have ended his career in the -dungeons of Castel San Angelo. But he was safe enough as one of the -great ones of the world, the confidant of the Senator of Rome; safe, -because he was feared and because none dared to oppose his baleful -influence. - -Basil pondered, as if the solution of the problem in his mind had at -last presented itself, but had again left him, unsatisfied, in the -throes of doubt and fear. - -Rising from his seat he again unfolded the letter and peered over its -contents. - -"Can we regain the door by which we have entered?" he soliloquized. -"Can we conquer the phantom that haunts the silent chambers of the -brain? Were it an eye, or a hand, I could pluck it off. However, if I -cannot strangle it, I can conquer it! Shall it forever blot the light -of heaven from my path? Shall I forever suffer and tremble at this -impalpable something--this shade from the abyss--of hell--that is -there--yet not there?" - -He paused for a moment in his perambulation, gazing through the narrow -unglazed window into the storm-tossed night without. Now and then a -flash of lightning shot athwart the inky darkness, lighting up dark -recesses and deep embrasures. The sullen roar of the thunder seemed to -come from the bowels of the earth. - -And as the Grand Chamberlain walked, as if driven by some invisible -demon, the great Molossian hound followed him about with a stealthy, -noiseless gait, raising its head now and then as if silently inquiring -into its master's mood. - -When at length he reseated himself, the huge hound cowered at his feet -and licked its huge paws. - -The mood of the woman for whom his lust-bitten soul yearned as it had -never yearned for anything on earth, her words of disdain, which had -scorched his very brain, and, above all, the knowledge that she read -his inmost thoughts, had roused every atom of evil within his soul. -This state of mind was accentuated by the further consideration that -she, of all women whom he had sent to their shame and death, was not -afraid of him. She had even dared to hint at the existence of a rival -who might indeed, in time, supersede him, if he were not wary. - -For some time Basil had been vaguely conscious of losing ground in the -favor of the woman whom no man might utterly trust save to his undoing. -The rivalry of Roxaná, who, like her tenth-century prototypes, was but -too eager to enter the arena for Marozia's fateful inheritance, had -poured oil on the flames when Theodora had learned that the Senator -of Rome himself was frequenting her bowers, and she was not slow to -perceive the agency that was at work to defeat and destroy her utterly. - -By adding ever new fuel to the hatred of the two women for each other -Basil hoped to clear for himself a path that would carry him to the -height of his aspirations, by compelling Theodora to openly espouse -him her champion. Sooner or later he knew they would ignite under each -other's taunts, and upon the ruins of the conflagration he hoped to -build his own empire, with Theodora to share with him the throne. - -Alberic had departed for the shrines of the Archangel at Monte Gargano. -Intent upon the purification of the Church and upon matters pertaining -to the empire, he was an element that needed hardly be reckoned with -seriously. A successful coup would hurl him into the dungeons of his -own keep, perchance, by some irony of fate, into the very cell where -Marozia had so mysteriously and ignominiously ended her career. Once -in possession of the Mausoleum, the Germans and Dalmatians bought and -bribed, he would be the master--unless-- - -Suddenly the huge beast at his feet raised its muzzle, sniffing the air -and uttering a low growl. - -A moment later Maraglia, the Castellan of Castel San Angelo, entered -through a winding passage. - -"What brings you here at this hour, with your damned butcher's face?" -Basil turned upon the newcomer who had paused when his gaze fell upon -the Molossian. - -The brutal features of Maraglia looked ghastly enough in the flickering -light of the tapers and Basil's temper seemed to deepen their ashen -pallor. - -"My lord--it is there again,--in the lower gallery--near the cell where -the Lady Marozia was strangled--" - -"By all the furies of Hell! Since when are you in the secrets of the -devil?" - -"Since I held the noose, my Lord Basil," replied the warden of the -Emperor's Tomb doggedly. "Though I knew not at the time whose breath -was being shortened. It was all too dark--a night just like this--" - -"Perchance your memory, going back to that hour, has retained something -more than the mere surmise," Basil glowered from under the dark, -straight brows. "How many were there?" - -"There were three--all masked, my lord. But their voices were their -own--" - -"You possess a keen ear, my man, as one, accustomed to dark deeds and -passages, well should," Basil interposed sardonically. "Deem you, in -your undoubted wisdom, the lady has returned and is haunting her former -abode? Once upon a time she was not wont to abide in estate so lowly. -And, they say, she was beautiful--even to her death." - -"And well they may," Maraglia interposed. "I saw her but twice. When -she came, and before she died." - -"Before she died?" - -"And the look she bent upon him who led the execution," Maraglia -continued thoughtfully. "She spoke not once. Dumb and silent she went -to the fishes. When the Lord Alberic arrived, it was all too late--" - -"All too late!" Basil interposed sardonically. "The fishes too were -dumb. Profit by their example, Maraglia. Too much wisdom engenders -death." - -"The death rattle of one sounds to my ears just like that of another, -my lord," Maraglia replied, quaking under the look that was upon him. -"And the voices of the few who still abide are growing weaker day by -day." - -"They shall not much longer annoy your delicate ears," Basil replied. -"The Senator who has found this abode somewhat too draughty has -departed for the holy shrines, to do penance for the death of his -mother. He suspects all was not well. He would know more. Perchance the -Archangel may grant him a revelation. Meanwhile, we must to work. The -new captain appointed by the Senator enters his service on the morrow. -A holy man, much given to contemplation over the mysteries of love. His -attention must be diverted. Every trace of life must be extinct--this -very night. No proofs must be allowed to remain. Meanwhile, what of the -apparition whereof you rave?" - -"It is there, my lord, as sure as my soul lives," replied the -castellan. "A shapeless something, preceded by a breath, cold as from a -newly dug grave." - -"A shapeless something, say you? Whence comes it and where goes it? For -whose diversion does it perambulate?" - -"The astrologer monk perchance who improvises prophecies." - -"Then let his improvising damn himself," replied Basil sullenly. "To -call himself inspired and pretend to read the stars! How about his -prophecy now?" - -"He holds to it!" - -"What! That I have less than one month to live?" - -"Just that--no more!"-- - -Basil gave the speaker a quick glance. - -"What niggardly dispensation and presumption withal! This fellow to -claim kinship with the stars! To profess to be in their confidence, to -share the secrets of the heavens while he is smothered by darkness, -utter and everlasting. The heavens mind you, Maraglia! My star! It is a -star of darker red than Mars and crosses Hell--not Heaven! In thought I -watch it every night with sleepless eyes. Is it not well to cleanse the -earth of such lying prophets that truth may have standing room? Where -have you lodged him?" - -"In the Hermit's cell--" - -"Well done! Thereby he shall prove his asceticism. Let practised -abstinence save him in such a pass! He shall eat his words--an -everlasting banquet. A fat astrologer--by the token--as I hear, was he -not?" - -"He was fat when he entered." - -"Wretch! Would you starve him? Remember the worms and the fishes--your -friends. Would you cheat them? Hath he foretold his end?" - -"Ay--by starvation." - -"He lies! You shall take him in extremis and, with your knife in his -throat, give him the lie. An impostor proved. What of the night?" - -"It rains and thunders." - -"Why should we mind rain and thunder? Lead me to this madman, and, -incidentally, to this phantom that keeps him company. Why do you gape, -Maraglia? Move on! I follow!" - -Maraglia was ill at ease, but he dared not disobey. Taking up one -of the candles, he led the way, trembling, his face ashen, his teeth -chattering, as if in the throes of a chill. - -Through a panel door in the wall they descended a winding stairway, -leaving the dog behind. The flight conducted them to a private postern, -well secured and guarded inside and out. As they issued from this the -howl of blown rain met and staggered them. Looking up at the cupola of -basalt from the depths of that well of masonry, it seemed to crack and -split in a rush of fusing stars. Basil's mad soul leapt to the call -of the hour. He was one with this mighty demonstration of nature. His -brain danced and flickered with dark visions of power. He appeared to -himself as an angel, a destroying angel, commissioned from on high to -purge the world of lies. - -"Take me to this monk!" he screamed through the thunder. - -Deep in the foundation of the northeastern crypts the miserable -creature was embedded in a stone chamber as utterly void and empty as -despair. The walls, the floor, the roof were all chiselled as smooth as -glass. There was not a foothold anywhere even for a cat, neither door, -nor traps, nor egress, nor window of any kind save where, just under -the ceiling, the grated opening by which he had been lowered, admitted -by day a haggard ghost of light. And even that wretched solace was -withdrawn as night fell, became a phantom, a diluted whisp of memory, -sank like water into the blackness, and left the fancy suddenly naked -in the self-consciousness of hell. Then the monk screamed like a madman -and threw himself towards the flitting spectre. He fell on the smooth -surface of the polished rock and bruised his limbs horribly. Yet the -very pain was a saving occupation. He struck his skull and revelled in -the agonizing dance of lights the blow procured him. But one by one -they blew out; and in a moment dead negation had him by the throat -again, rolling him over and over, choking him under enormous slabs of -darkness. Gasping, he cursed his improvidence, in not having glued his -vision to the place of the light's going. It would have been something -gained from madness to hold and gloat upon it, to watch hour by hour -for its feeble redawn. Among all the spawning monstrosities of that -pit, with only the assured prospect of a lingering death before him, -the prodigy of eternal darkness quite overcrowded that other of thirst -or starvation. - -Yet the black gloom broke, it would seem, before its due. Had he -annihilated time and was this death? He rose rapturously to his feet -and stood staring at the grating, the tears gushing down his sunken -cheeks. The bars were withdrawn, in their place a dim lamp was intruded -and a face looked down. - -"Barnabo--are you hungry and a-thirst?" - -The voice spoke to him of life. It was the name he had borne in the -world and he wondered who from that world could be addressing him. - -He answered quaveringly. - -"Of a truth, I am hungry and a-thirst." - -"It is a beatitude," replied the voice suavely. "You shall have your -fill of justice." - -"Justice!" screamed the prisoner. "I fear it is but an empty phrase." - -"Comfort yourself," said the other. "I shall make a full measure of it! -It shall bubble and sparkle to the brim like a goblet of Cyprian. Know -you the wine, monk? A cool fragrant liquid, that gurgles down the arid -throat and brings visions of green meadows and sparkling brooks--" - -"I ask no mercy," cried the monk, falling on his knees and stretching -out his lean arms. "Only make an end of it--of this hellish torment." - -"Torment?" came the voice from above. "What torment is there in the -vision of the wine cup--or, for that matter, a feast on groaning tables -under the trees? Are you not rich in experiences, Barnabo,--both of -the board and of love? Remember the hours when she lay in your arms, -innocent, save of original sin? Ah! Could she see you now, Barnabo--how -you have changed! No more the elegant courtier that wooed Theodora ere -despair drove you to don the penitential garb and, like Balaam's ass, -to raise your voice and prophesy! Deem you--as fate has thrown her into -these arms of mine--memory will revive the forgotten joys of the days -of long ago?" - -"Mercy--demon!" gasped the monk. His swollen throat could hardly shape -the words. - -Basil laughed and bent lower. - -"Answer me then--you who boast of being inspired from above--you -who listen to the music of the spheres in the dead watches of the -night--tell me then, you man of God--how long am I to live?" - -"Monster, relieve me of your sight!" shrieked the unhappy wretch. - -"It is the light," mocked Basil. "The light from above. Raise your -voice, monk, and prophesy. You who would hurl the anathema upon Basil, -the Grand Chamberlain, who arrogated to yourself the mission to -purge the universe and to summon me--me--before the tribunal of the -Church--tell me, you, who aspired to take to his bed the spouse of the -devil, till the white lightnings of her passion seared and blasted your -carcass,--tell me--how long am I to live?" - -An inarticulate shriek came from within. - -"By justice--till the dead rise from their graves." - -"Live forever--on an empty phrase?" Basil mocked. "Are you, too, -provisioned for eternity?" - -He held out his hand as if he were offering the starving wretch food. - -The monk fell on his knees. His lips moved, but no sound was audible. - -"Perchance he hath a vision," Basil turned to Maraglia who stood -sullenly by. - -"Oh, dull this living agony." - -"How long am I to live?" - -"Now, hear me, God," screamed the monk. "Let not this man ever again -know surcease from torment in bed, at board, in body or in mind. Let -his lust devour him, let the worm burrow in his entrails, the maggot in -his brain! May death seize and damnation wither him at the moment when -he is nearest the achievement of his fondest hopes!" - -Basil screamed him down. - -An uncontrollable terror had seized him. - -"Silence, beast, or I shall strangle you!" - -"Libertine, traitor, assassin--may heaven's lightnings blast you--" - -For a moment the two battled in a war of screeching blasphemy. - -At the next moment the grate was flung into place, the light whisked -and vanished, a door slammed and the Stygian blackness of the cell -closed once more upon the moaning heap in its midst. - -Basil's eyes gleamed like live coals as he turned to Maraglia, who, -quaking and ashen, was babbling a prayer between white lips. - -"Make an end of him!" he snarled. "He has lived too long. And now, in -the devil's name, lead the way above!" - -A flash of lightning that seemed to rend the very heavens illumined for -a moment the dark and tortuous passage, its sheen reflected through -the narrow port-holes on the blackness of the walls. It was followed -by a peal of thunder so terrific that it shook the vast pile of the -Emperor's Tomb to its foundations, clattering and roaring, as if a -thousand worlds had been rent in twain. - -Maraglia, who had preceded the Grand Chamberlain with the taper, -uttered a wild shriek of terror, dropped the light, causing it to be -extinguished and his fleeting steps carried him down a night-wrapped -gallery as fast as his limbs would carry him, utterly indifferent to -Basil's fate in the Stygian gloom. - -Paralyzed with terror, the Grand Chamberlain stared into the inky -blackness. For a moment it had seemed to him as if a breath from an -open grave had indeed been wafted to his nostrils. - -But it was neither the thunder, nor the lightning, neither the swish of -the rain nor the roar of the hurricane, that had prompted Maraglia's -outcry and precipitate flight and his abject terror, as we shall see. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE CALL OF EBLIS - - -In the lurid flash that had illumined the gallery, lighting up rows of -cells and deep recesses, Basil had seen, as if risen from the floor, -a black, indefinable shape, wrapped in a long black mantle, the hood -of which was drawn over its face. Through its slits gleamed two eyes, -like live coals. Of small stature and apparently great age, the bent -apparition supported itself by a crooked staff, the fleshless fingers -barely visible under the cover of the ample sleeve, and resembling the -claws of some bird of prey. - -At last the terror which the uncanny apparition inspired changed to its -very counterpart, as, defiance in his tone, the Grand Chamberlain made -a forward step. - -"Who goes there?--Friend or foe of the Lord Basil?"-- - -His voice sounded strange in his own ears. - -A gibbering response quavered out of the gloom. - -"What matters friend or foe as long as you grasp the tenure of power?" - -Basil breathed a sigh of relief. - -"I ought to know that voice. You are Bessarion?" - -"I have waited long," came the drawling reply. - -There was a pause brief as the intake of a breath. - -"What do you demand?"-- - -"You shall know in time." - -"In time comes death!" - -"And more!" - -"It is the hour that calls!" - -"Are you prepared?" - -"Show me what you can do!" - -"For this I am here! Are you afraid?" - -The air of mockery in the questioner's tone cut the speaker to the -quick. - -In the intermittent flashes of lightning Basil saw the shapeless form -cowering before him in the dusk of the gallery, barring the way. But -again it mingled quickly with the darkness. - -"Of whom?" Basil queried. - -There was another pause. - -"Of the Presence!" - -"That craven hound Maraglia has upset the light," muttered Basil. "I -cannot see you." - -"Can you not feel my presence?" came the gibbering reply. - -"Even so!" - -"Know you what high powers of night control your life--what dark-winged -messengers of evil fly about you?" - -"Your words make my soul flash like a thunder cloud." - -"And yet does your power stand firm?" - -"It rests on deep dug dungeons, where the light of heaven does not -intrude. I spread such fear in men's white hearts as the craven have -never known." - -A faint chuckle came in reply. - -"Only last night I saw you in the magic crystal sphere in which I read -the dire secrets of Fate. Above your head flew evil angels. Beneath -your horse's hoofs a corpse-strewn path." - -"The time is not yet ripe." - -"Time does not wait for him who waits to dare." - -An evil light flashed from Basil's eyes. - -"What can you do?" - -Response came as from the depths of a grave. - -"I shall conjure such shapes from the black caves of fear as have not -ventured forth since madness first began to prowl among the human race, -when the torturing dusk drowns every helpless thing in livid waves of -shadow. It is the spirit of your sire that draws the evil legions to -you." - -Basil straightened in surprise. - -"What know you of him?" he exclaimed. "Dull prayers and fasts and -penances, not such freaks as this, were the only things he thought of." - -From the cowled form came a hiss. - -"Fool! Not that grunting and omnivorous swine who took the cowl, begat -you! Your veins run with fiery evil direct from its fountainhead. No, -no,--not he!" - -"Not he?" shrieked the Grand Chamberlain. "If I am not his progeny, -then whose?" - -"Some mighty lord's." - -"The Duke of Beneventum?" - -"One greater yet." - -"King Berengar?" - -"One adored by him as his liege." - -"Ha! I guess it now! It was Otto the Great, he whose fury gored the -heart of the Romans." - -"One greater still." - -"Earth hath no greater lord." - -"Is there not heaven above and hell below? Your sire rules the millions -who have donned fear's stole forever. He is lord of lords, where all -the lips implore and none reply." - -A flash of lightning gleamed through the gallery. - -A shadow passed over Basil's countenance, like a swift sailing cloud. - -Darkness supervened, impenetrable, sepulchral. - -"Well may you cower," gibbered the shape in its inexorable monotone. -"For you came into this life among the death-fed mushrooms that grow -where murder rots. The moon-struck wolves howled for three nights, and -ill-omened birds flapped for three days around the tower where she who -gave you life breathed her last." - -A fitful muttering as of souls in pain seemed to pervade the -night-wrapped galleries, with sultry storm gusts breathing inarticulate -evil. No light save the white flash of the lightning revealed now and -then the uncanny form of the speaker. The smell of rotting weeds came -through the crevices of the wall. - -When Basil, spell-bound, found no tongue, the dark shape continued: - -"Wrapped in midnight's cloak, nine witches down in the castle moat sang -a baptismal hymn of horror as you saw the light. As mighty brazen wings -sounded the roaring of the tempest-churned seas. And above you stood -he who holds the keys to thought's dark chambers, he in whose ranks -the sullen angels serve, whose shadowy dewless wings cast evil on the -world. And I am he whose palace rings with the eternal Never!" - -Frozen with terror Basil listened. - -The thunder growled ever louder. A vampire's bark stabbed the darkness; -the shriek of witches rose above the tempest, there was a rattling of -bones as if skeletons were rising from their graves. All round the -Emperor's Tomb the ghouls were prowling, and the soulless corpses were -as restless as the fleshless souls that whimpered and moaned in the -night. Giant bats flew to and fro like evil spirits. The great peals -shook the huge pile from vault to summit. The running finger of the -storm scribbled fiery, cabalistical zigzags on the firmament's black -page. And in every peal, louder and louder as the echoes spread, Basil -seemed to hear his name shrieked by the weird powers of darkness, till, -half mad with terror, he cried: - -"Away! Away! Your presence flings dark glare like glowing lava--" - -"I come across the night," replied the voice, "ere death has made you -mine! Deserve the doom that is prepared for those who do my bidding. -You have shot into my heart a ray of blackest light--" - -Basil held out his hands, as if to ward off some unseen assailant. - -"Whirl back into the night--" he shrieked, but the voice resumed, -mocking and gibbering. - -"Only a coward will shrink from the dreadful boundaries between things -of this earth and things beyond this earth. I have sought you by night -and by day--as fiercely as any of those athirst pant round hell's mock -springs! In the great vaults of wrath, in the sleepless caverns, whose -eternal darkness is only lighted by pools of molten stone that bathe -the lost, where, in the lurid light, the shadows dance--I sit and -watch the lakes of torment, taciturn and lone. I summon you to earthly -power--to the fulfillment of all your heart desires!"-- - -The voice ceased. All the elements of hell seemed to roar and shriek -around the battlemented walls. - -There was a pause during which Basil regained his composure. - -At last the dread shadow was looming across his path. An undefined awe -crept over him, such as dark chasms instill; an awe at his own self. -He would fain have been screened from his own substance. By degrees he -welcomed the tidings with a dark rapture. In himself lay the substance -of Evil. It was not the Angel of Light that ruled the reeling universe. -It was the shadow of Eblis looming dark and terrible over the lives of -men. Long before he had ever guessed what rills of flaming Phlegethon -ran riot in his veins, had he not felt his pulses swell with joy at -human pain, had he not played the fiend untaught? Could not the -Fiend, as well as God, live incarnate in human clay? Was not the earth -the meeting ground of Heaven and Hell? And why should not he, Basil, -defying Heaven, be Hell's incarnation?-- - -Ay--but the day of death and the day of reckoning! Would his parentage -entail eternal fire, or princely power and sway in the dark vaults of -nameless terror? Should he quail or thrill with awful exaltation? - -"And--in return for that which I offer up--King of the dark red -glare--will you give to me what I crave--boundless power and the woman -for which my soul is on fire?" - -"Have you the courage to snatch them from the talons of Fate?" came -back the gibbering reply. - -A blinding flash of lightning was succeeded by an appalling crash of -thunder. - -"From Hell itself!" shrieked Basil frenzied. "Give me Theodora and I -will fill the cup of torture that I have seized on your shadowy altars, -and quaff your health at the terrific banquet board of Evil in toasts -of torment--in wine of boundless pain!" - -In the quickly succeeding flashes of lightning the dark form seemed to -rise and to expand. - -"I knew you would not fail me! Come!" - -For a moment Basil hesitated, fingering the hilt of his poniard. - -"Where would you lead me?" he queried, his tone far from steady. "How -many of these twilights must I traverse before I see him whom you -serve?" - -"That you shall know to-night!" - -In the deep and frozen silence which succeeded the terrible peals of -thunder their retreating footsteps died to silence in the labyrinthine -galleries of the Emperor's Tomb. - -Only the dog-headed Anubis seemed to stare and nod mysteriously. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE CRYSTAL SPHERE - - -Outwardly and in daylight there was nothing noticeable about the sixth -house in the Lane of the Sclavonians in Trastevere beyond the fact that -it was a dwelling of a superior kind to those immediately surrounding -it, which were chiefly ill-favored cottages of fishermen and boatmen, -and had about it an air of almost sombre retirement. - -It stood alone within a walled court, containing a few shrubs. The -windows were few, high and narrow, and the front bore a rather -forbidding appearance. One ascending to the flat roof would have found -it to command on the left a desolate view of a square devoted to -executions, and on the right a scarcely more cheerful prospect over the -premises belonging to the convent of Santa Maria in Trastevere. Had -the visitor been farther able to penetrate into the principal chamber -of the first floor, on the night of the scene about to be related, he -might indeed have found himself well repaid for his trouble. - -This chamber, which was of considerable size and altogether devoid of -windows, being lighted during the daytime by a skylight, carefully -blinded from within, was now duskily illumined by a transparent device -inlaid into the end wall and representing the beams of the rising moon -gleaming from a sky of azure. The extremity of the room, which fronted -the symbol, was semi-circular and occupied by a narrow table, before -which moved a tall, shadowy form that paused now and then before a -fire of fragrant sandal wood, which burned in a brazen tripod, passing -his fingers mechanically, as it would seem, through the bluish flame. -In its unsteady flicker the strange figures on the walls, which had -defied the decree of Time, seemed to nod fantastically when touched by -a fitful ray. - -This was Hormazd, the Persian, the former confidant and counsellor of -Marozia, in the heyday of her glory. In those days he had held forth -in a turret chamber on the summit of Castel San Angelo, where he would -read the stars and indulge his studies in the black arts to his heart's -content. Driven forth by Alberic, after Marozia's fall, the Persian had -taken up his abode in the Trastevere, where he continued to serve those -who came to him for advice, or on business that shunned the light of -day. - -Now and then the Oriental bent his tall, spare form over a huge tome -which lay open upon the table, the inscrutable, ascetic countenance -with the deep, brilliant eyes seemingly plunged in deep, engrossing -thought, but in reality listening intently, as for the approach of some -belated caller. - -The soft patter of hurried footsteps on the floor of the corridor -without soon rewarded his attention. The rustle of a woman's silken -garments caused him to give a start of surprise. A heavy curtain was -raised and she glided noiselessly into his presence. - -The woman's face was covered with a silken vizor, but her coronet of -raven hair no less than the matchless figure, outlined against the -crimson glow, at once proclaimed her rank. - -The first ceremony of silent greeting absolved, the Persian's visitor -permitted the black silken cloak which had enveloped her from head to -toe, to fall away, revealing a form exquisitely proportioned. The ivory -pallor of the throat, which rose like a marble column from matchless -shoulders, and the whiteness of the bare arms, seemed even enhanced by -the dusky background whose incense-laden pall seemed to oppress the -very walls. - -"I am trusting you to-night with unreserved confidence," the woman -spoke in her rich, vibrant voice. "Many serve me from motives of -selfishness and fear. Do you serve me, because I trust you." - -She laid her white hand frankly upon his arm and the Persian, isolated -above and below the strongest impulses of humanity, shivered under her -touch. - -"What is it you desire?" he questioned after a pause. - -"If you possess the knowledge with which the vulgar credit you," the -woman said slowly, not without an air of mockery in her tone, "I hardly -need reveal to you the motives which prompted this visit! You knew -them, ere I came, even as you knew of my coming!" - -"You speak truly," said Hormazd slowly, now completely master of -himself. "For even to the hour it was revealed to me!" - -The woman scanned him with a searching look. - -"Yet I had confided in none!" she said musingly. "Tell me then who I -am!" - -"You are Theodora!" - -"When have we met before?"-- - -"Not in this life, but in a previous existence. Our souls touched then, -predestined to cross each other on a future plane." - -She removed her silken vizor and faced him. - -The dark eyes at once challenged and besought. No sculptor could have -chiselled those features on which a divinity had recklessly squandered -all it had to bestow for good or for evil. No painter could have -reproduced the face which had wrought such havoc in the hearts of men. - -Like summer lightnings in a dark cloudbank, all the emotions of the -human soul seemed to have played therein and left it again, forging it -in the fires of passion, but leaving it more beautiful, more mysterious -than before. - -The Oriental regarded her in silence, as she stood before him in the -flickering flame of the brazier. - -"In some previous existence, you say?" she said with dreamy interest. -"Who was I then--and who were you?" - -"Two driftless spirits on the driftless sea of eternity," he replied -calmly. "Foredoomed to continue our passage till our final destiny be -fulfilled." - -"And this destiny is known to you?" - -"Else I had watched in vain. But you--queen and sorceress--do you -believe in the message?" - -She pondered. - -"I believe," she said slowly, "that we make for ourselves the destiny -to which hereafter we must submit. I believe that some dark power can -foretell that destiny, and more--compel it!"-- - -Hormazd bowed ever so slightly. There was a dawning gleam of satire in -his brilliant eyes, a glimpse which was not lost on her. - -Again the question came. - -"What is it you desire?" - -Theodora gave an inscrutable smile that imparted to her features a -singular softness and beauty, as a ray of sunlight falling on a dark -picture will brighten the tints with a momentary warmth of seeming life. - -"I was told," she spoke slowly, as if trying to overcome an inward -dread, "that you are known in Rome chiefly as being the possessor of -some mysterious internal force which, though invisible, is manifest to -all who place themselves under your spell! Is it not so?" - -The Persian bowed slightly. - -"It may be that I have furnished the Romans with something to talk -about besides the weather; that I have made a few friends, and an -amazing number of enemies--" - -"The latter argues in your favor," Theodora interposed. "They say, -furthermore, that by this same force you are enabled to disentangle the -knots of perplexity that burden the overtaxed brain." - -Hormazd nodded again and the sinister gleam of his eyes did not escape -Theodora's watchful gaze. - -"If this be so," the woman continued, "if you are not an impostor who -exhibits his tricks for the delectation of the rabble, or for sordid -gain--exert your powers upon me, for something, I know not what, has -frozen up the once overflowing fountain of life." - -The Oriental regarded her intently. - -"You have the wish to be deluded--even into an imaginary happiness?" - -Theodora gave a start. - -"You have expressed what I but vaguely hinted. It may be that I -am tired"--she passed her hand across her brow with a troubled -gesture--"or puzzled by some infinite distress of living things. -Perchance I am going mad--who knows? But, whatever the cause, you, -if report be true, possess the skill to ravish the mind away from -its trouble, to transport it to a radiant Elysium of illusions and -ecstasies. Do this for me, as you have done it for another, and, -whatever payment you demand, it shall be yours!" - -She ceased. - -Faintly through the silence came the chimes of convent bells from the -remote regions of the Aventine, pealing through the fragrant summer -night above the deep boom of distant thunder that seemed to come as -from the bowels of the earth. - -Hormazd gave his interrogator a swift, searching glance, half of pity, -half of disdain. - -"The great eastern drug should serve your turn," he replied -sardonically. "I know of no other means wherewith to stifle the voice -of conscience." - -Theodora flushed darkly. - -"Conscience?" she flashed in resentful accents. - -The Persian nodded. - -"There is such a thing. Do you profess to be without one?" - -Theodora's eyes endeavored to pierce the inscrutable mask before her. -The ironical curtness of the question annoyed her. - -"Your opinion of me does little honor to your wisdom," she said after a -pause. - -"A foul wound festers equally beneath silk and sack-cloth," came the -dark reply. - -"How know you that I desire relief from this imaginary malady?" - -The Oriental gave a shrug. - -"Why does Theodora come to the haunts of the Persian? Why does she ask -him to mock and delude her, as if it were his custom to make dupes of -those who appeal to him?" - -"And are they not your dupes?" Theodora interposed, her face a deeper -pallor than before. - -"Of that you shall judge after I have answered your questions," Hormazd -returned darkly. "There are but two things in life that will prompt a -woman like Theodora to seek aid of one like myself."-- - -"You arouse my curiosity!" - -"Disappointment in power--or love!" - -There was a silence. - -"Will you help me?" - -She was pleading now. - -The Oriental sparred for time. It was not his purpose to commit himself -at once. - -"I am but one who, long severed from the world, has long recognized -its vanities. My cures are for the body rather than the soul." - -Theodora's face hardened into an expression of scorn. - -"Am I to understand that you will do nothing for me?" she said in a -tone which convinced the Persian that the time for dallying was past. - -The words came slowly from his lips. - -"I can promise you neither self-oblivion nor visionary joys. I possess -an internal force, it is true, a force which, under proper control, -overpowers and subdues the material, and by exerting this I can, if -I think it well to do so, release your soul, that inner intelligence -which, deprived of its mundane matter, is yourself, from its house of -clay and allow it a brief interval of freedom. But--what in that state -its experience may be, whether joy or sorrow, I cannot foretell." - -"Then you are not the master of the phantoms you evoke?" - -"I am merely their interpreter!" - -She looked at him steadfastly as if pondering his words. - -"And you profess to be able to release the soul from its abode of clay?" - -"I do not profess," he said quietly. "I can do so!" - -"And with the success of this experiment your power ceases? You cannot -tell whether the imprisoned creature will take its course to the -netherworld of suffering, or a heaven of delight?" - -"The liberated soul must shift for itself." - -"Then begin your incantations," Theodora exclaimed recklessly. "Send -me, no matter where, so long as I escape from this den of the world, -this dungeon with one small window through which, with the death rattle -in our throats, we stare vacantly at the blank, unmeaning horror of -life. Prove to me that the soul you prattle of exists, and if mine can -find its way straight to the mainsprings of this revolving creation, it -shall cling to the accursed wheels and stop them, that they may grind -out the torture of life no more." - -She stood there, dark, defiant, beautiful with the beauty of the fallen -angel. Her breath came and went quickly. She seemed to challenge some -invisible opponent. - -The tall sinewy form by her side watched her as a physician might watch -in his patient the workings of a new disease, then Hormazd said in low -and tranquil tones: - -"You are in the throes of your own overworked emotions. You are seeking -to obtain the impossible--" - -"Why taunt me?" she flashed. "Cannot your art supply the secret in -whose quest I am?" - -The Persian bowed, but kept silent. - -Again, with the shifting mood, the rare, half-mournful smile shone in -Theodora's face. - -"Though you may not be conscious of it," she said, laying her white -hand on his trembling arm, "something impels me to unburden my heart to -you. I have kept silence long." - -Hormazd nodded. - -"In the world one must always keep silence, veil one's grief and force -a smile with the rest. Is it not lamentable to think of all the pent-up -suffering, the inconceivably hideous agonies that remain forever -unrevealed? Youth and innocence--" - -Theodora raised her arm. - -"Was I ever--what they call--innocent?" she interposed musingly. "When -I was young--alas, how long it seems, though I am but thirty--the dream -of my life was love! Perchance I inherited it from my mother. She was a -Greek, and she possessed that subtle quality that can never die. What I -was--it matters not. What I am--you know!" - -She raised herself to her full height. - -"I long for power. Men are my puppets. And I long for love! I have -sought it in all shapes, in every guise. But I found it not. Only -disillusion--disappointment have been my share. Will my one desire be -ever fulfilled?" - -"Some day you shall know," he said quietly, keeping his dark gaze upon -her. - -"I doubt me not I shall! But--when and where? Tell me then, you who -know so much! When and where?" - -Hormazd regarded her quizzically, but made no immediate reply. - -After a time she continued. - -"Some say you are the devil's servant! Show me then your power. Read -for me my fate!" - -She looked at him with an air of challenge. - -"It was not for this you came," the Persian said calmly, meeting the -gaze of those mysterious wells of light whose appeal none had yet -resisted whom she wished to bend to her desires. - -The woman turned a shade more pale. - -"Then call it a whim!" - -"What will it avail?" - -Her eyes flashed. - -"My will against--that other." - -A flash of lightning was reflected on the dark walls of the chamber. -The thunder rolled in grand sullen echoes down the heavens. - -She heard it not. - -"What are you waiting for?" she turned to Hormazd. - -There was a note of impatience in her tone. - -"You are of to-day--yet not of to-day! Not of yesterday, nor to-morrow. -To some in time comes love--" - -"But to me?" - -His voice sank to a frozen silence. - -She stood, gazing at him steadily. She was very pale, but the smile of -challenge still lingered on her lips. - -"But to me?" she repeated. - -He regarded her darkly. - -"To you? Who knows?--Some day--" - -"Ah! When my fate has chanced! Are you a cheat then, like the rest?" - -He was silent, as one in the throes of some great emotion. She took a -step towards him. He raised both hands as if to ward her off. His eyes -saw shapes and scenes not within the reach of other's ken. - -"Tell me the truth," she said calmly. "You cannot deceive me!" - -Hormazd sprinkled the cauldron with some white powder that seethed and -hissed as it came in contact with the glowing metal and began to emit a -dense smoke, which filled the interior of the chamber with a strange, -pungent odor. - -Then he slowly raised one hand until it touched Theodora. Dauntless -in spirit, her body was taken by surprise, and as his clammy fingers -closed round her own she gave an involuntary start. With a compelling -glance, still in silence, he looked into her face. - -A strange transformation seemed to take place. - -She was no longer in the chamber, but in a grove dark with trees and -shrubbery. A dense pall seemed to obscure the skies. The atmosphere was -breathless. Even as she looked he was no longer there. Great clouds of -greenish vapor rolled in through the trees and enveloped her so utterly -as to shut out all vision. It was as if she were alone in some isolated -spot, far removed from the ken of man. She was conscious of nothing -save the insistent touch of his hand upon her arm. - -Gradually, as she peered into the vapors, they seemed to condense -themselves into a definite shape. It was that of a man coming towards -her, but some invisible agency seemed ever to retard his approach. In -fact the distance seemed not to lessen, and suddenly she saw her own -self standing by, vainly straining her gaze into space, indescribable -longing in her eyes. - -A flash of lightning that seemed to rend the vault of heaven was -followed by so terrific a peal of thunder that it seemed to shake the -very earth. - -A shriek broke from Theodora's lips. - -"It is he! It is he!" she cried pointing to the curtain. Hormazd -turned, hardly less amazed than the woman. He distinctly saw, in the -recurrent flash, a face, pale and brooding, framed by the darkness, of -which it seemed a part. - -At the next moment it was gone, as if it had melted into air. - -Theodora's whole body was numb, as if every nerve had been paralyzed. -The Persian was hardly less agitated. - -"Is it enough?" she heard Hormazd's deep voice say beside her. - -She turned, but, though straining her eyes, she could not see him. The -flame in the tripod had died down. She was trembling from head to foot. - -But her invincible will was unshaken. - -"Nay," she said, and her voice still mocked. "Having seen the man my -soul desires, I must know more. The end! I have not seen the end! Shall -I possess him? Speak!" - -"Seek no more!" warned the voice by her side. "Seek not to know the -end!" - -She raised herself defiantly. - -"The end!" - -He made no reply. She saw the white vapors forming into faces. The hour -and the place of the last vision were not clear. She saw but the man -and herself, standing together at some strange point, where time seemed -to count for naught. - -Between them lay a scarf of blue samite. - -After a protracted silence a moan broke from Theodora's lips. - -The Persian took no heed thereof. He did not even seem to hear. But, -beneath those half-closed lids, not a movement of the woman escaped his -penetrating gaze. Though possessed with a vague assurance of his own -dark powers, controlled by his nerve and coolness, Hormazd could read -in that fair, inscrutable face far more than in the magic scrolls. - -And as he scanned it now, from under half-shut lids, it was fixed and -rigid as marble, pale, too, with an unearthly whiteness. She seemed to -have forgotten his presence. She seemed to look into space, yet even as -he gazed, the expression of that wonderfully fair face changed. - -Theodora's eyes were fierce, her countenance bore a rigid expression, -bright, cold, unearthly, like one who defies and subdues mortal pain. - -The tools of love and ambition are sharp and double-edged, and Hormazd -knew it was safer to trust to wind and waves than to the whims of woman. - -But already her mood had changed and her face had resumed its habitual -expression of inscrutable repose. - -"Is it the gods or the devil who sway and torture us and mock at our -helplessness?" she turned to the Oriental, then, without waiting his -reply, she concluded with a searching glance that seemed to read his -very heart. - -"Report speaks true of you. Unknowingly, unwittingly you have pointed -the way. Farewell!" - -Long after she had disappeared Hormazd stared at the spot where her -swiftly retiring form had been engulfed by the darkness. Then, weighing -the purse, which she had left as an acknowledgment of his services, and -finding it sufficiently heavy to satisfy his avarice, the Persian stood -for a time wrapped in deep thoughts. - -"That phantom at least I could not evoke!" he muttered to himself. "Who -dares to cross the path of Hormazd?" - -The thunder seemed to answer, for a crash that seemed to split the -seven hills asunder caused the house to rock as with the force of an -earthquake. - -With a shudder the Persian extinguished the fire in the brazier and -retreated to his chamber, while outside thunder and lightning and rain -lashed the summer night with the force of a tropical hurricane. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -PERSEPHONÉ - - -It was not Tristan's other self, conjured by the Persian from the -mystic realms of night which Theodora had seen outlined against the -dark curtain that screened the entrance into the Oriental's laboratory. -The object of her craving had, indeed, been present in the body, -seeking in the storm that suddenly lashed the city the shelter of an -apparently deserted abode. Thus he had unwittingly strayed into the -domain of the astrologer, finding the door of his abode standing ajar -after Theodora had entered. - -A superstition which was part and parcel of the Persian's character, -caused the latter to regard the undesired presence in the same light -as did Theodora, the more so as, for the time, it served his purpose, -although, when the woman had departed, he was puzzled no little over -a phenomenon which his skill could not have conjured up. Tristan had -precipitately retreated, so soon as the woman's outcry had reached his -ear, convinced that he had witnessed some unholy incantation which must -counteract the effect of the penances he had just concluded and during -the return from which the tempest had overtaken him. - -Thoroughly drenched he arrived at the Inn of the Golden Shield and -retired forthwith, wondering at the strange scene which he had -witnessed and its import. - -Tristan arose early on the following day. - -On the morrow he was to enter the service of the Senator of Rome, who -had departed on his pilgrimage to the shrines of Monte Gargano. - -Tristan resolved to make the most of his time, visiting the sanctuaries -and fitly preparing himself to be worthy of the trust which Alberic had -reposed in him. Yet his thoughts were not altogether of the morrow. -Once again memory wandered back to the sunny days in Provence, to the -rose garden of Avalon, and to one who perchance was walking alone in -the garden, along the flower-bordered paths where he had found and lost -his greatest happiness.-- - -Persephoné meanwhile had not been idle. It pleased her for once to -propitiate her mistress, and through her own spies she had long been -informed of Tristan's movements, being not altogether averse to -starting an intrigue on her own account, if her mistress should fail -sufficiently to impress the predestined victim. Her own beauty could -achieve no less. - -Drawing a veil about her head and shoulders so as effectually to -conceal her features, she proceeded to thread her way through the -intricate labyrinth of Roman thoroughfares. When she reached her -destination she concealed herself in a convenient lurking place from -which she took care not to emerge till she had learned all she wished -from one who had dogged Tristan's footsteps all these weary days. - -"What do you want with me?" asked the latter somewhat disturbed by her -sudden appearance, as he came out of the little temple church of San -Stefano in Rotondo on the brow of the Cælian Hill. - -Persephoné had raised her veil and in doing so had taken care to reveal -her beautiful white arms. - -"I am unwelcome doubtless," she replied, after a swift glance had -convinced her that there was no one near to witness their meeting. -"Nevertheless you must come with me--whether you will or no. We Romans -take no denial. We are not like your pale, frozen women of the North." - -Subscribing readily to this opinion, Tristan felt indignant, -nevertheless, at her self-assurance. - -"I have neither time nor inclination to attend upon your fancies," he -said curtly, trying to pass her. But she barred his passage. - -"As for your inclination to follow me," Persephoné laughed--"that is a -matter for you to decide, if you intend to prosper in your new station." - -She paused a moment, with a swift side glance at the man. Persephoné -had not miscalculated the effect of her speech, for Tristan had started -visibly at her words and the knowledge they implied. - -"As for your time," Persephoné continued sardonically, "that is another -matter. No doubt there are still a few sanctuaries to visit," she said -suggestively, with tantalizing slowness and a tinge of contempt in -her tones that was far from assumed. "Though I am puzzled to know why -one of your good looks and courage should creep like a criminal from -shrine to shrine, when hot life pulsates all about us. Are your sins so -grievous indeed?" - -She could see that the thrust had pierced home. - -"This is a matter you do not understand," he said, piqued at her -persistence. "Perchance my sins are grievous indeed." - -"Ah! So much the better," Persephoné laughed, showing her white teeth -and approaching a step closer. "The world loves a sinner. What it -dislikes is the long-faced repentant transgressor. You are a man after -all--it is time enough to become a saint when you can no longer enjoy. -Come!" - -And the white arm stole forth and a white hand took hold of his mantle. - -Every word of the Circassian seemed to sting Tristan like a wasp. His -whole frame quivered with anger at her taunts, but he scorned to show -it, and putting a strong constraint upon his feelings he only asked -quietly: - -"What would you with me? Surely it was not to tell me this that you -have tracked me hither." - -Persephoné thought she had now brought the metal to a sufficiently -high temperature for fusion. She proceeded to mould it accordingly. -Nevertheless she was determined to gain some advantage for herself in -executing her mistress' behest. - -"I tracked you here," she said slowly, "because I wanted you! I wanted -you, because it is in my power to render you a great service. Listen, -my lord,--you must come with me! It is not every man in Rome who would -require so much coaxing to follow a good-looking woman--" - -She looked very tempting as she spoke, but her physical charms were -indeed sadly wasted on the pre-occupied man before her, and if she -expected to win from him any overt act of admiration or encouragement, -she was to be woefully disappointed. - -"I cannot follow you," he said. "My way lies in another direction. -Besides--you have said it yourself--I am now in the service of another." - -"That is the very reason," she interposed. "Have you ever stopped to -consider the thousand and one pitfalls which your unwary feet will -encounter when you--a stranger--unknown--hated perchance--attempt to -wield the authority entrusted to you? What do you know of Rome that you -should hope to succeed when he, who set you in this hazardous place, -cannot quell the disturbances that break out between the factions -periodically?" - -"And why should you be disposed to confer upon me such a favor?" -Tristan asked with instinctive caution. "I am a stranger to you. What -have we in common?" - -Persephoné laughed. - -"Perchance I am in love with you myself--ever since that night when you -would not enter the forbidden gates. Perchance you may be able to serve -me in turn--some day. How cold you are! Like the frozen North! Come! -Waste no more time, if you would not regret it forevermore."-- - -There was something compelling in her words that upset Tristan's -resolution. - -Still, he wavered. - -"You have seen my mistress," Persephoné resumed, "the fairest woman -and the most powerful in Rome--a near kinswoman, too, of your new -master--the Senator." - -The words startled Tristan. - -"It needs but a word from her to make you what she pleases," she -continued, as they delved into the now darkening streets. "She is -headstrong and imperious and does not brook resistance to her will." - -Tristan remembered certain words Alberic had spoken to him at their -final parting. It behooved him to be on his guard, yet without making -of Theodora an open enemy. "Be wary and circumspect," had been the -Senator's parting words. - -"Did the Lady Theodora send you for me?" he asked, with some anxiety in -his tone. "And how did you know where to find me in a city like this?" - -"I know a great many things--and so does my mistress," Persephoné made -smiling reply. "But she does not choose every one to be as wise as she -is. I will answer both your questions though, if you will answer one -of mine in return. The Lady Theodora did not mention you by name," -Persephoné prevaricated, "yet I do not think there is another man in -Rome who would serve her as would you.--And now tell me in turn.--Deem -you not, she is very beautiful?" - -"The Lady Theodora is very beautiful," Tristan replied with a -hesitation that remained not unremarked. "Yet, what is there in common -between two strangers from the farthest extremities of the earth?" - -"What is there in common?" Persephoné smiled. "You will know ere an -hour has sped. But, if you would take counsel from one who knows, you -will do wisely to ponder twice before you choose--your master. Silence -now! Step softly, but follow close behind me! It is very dark under the -trees." - -They had arrived on Mount Aventine. Before them, in the dusk, towered -the great palace of Theodora. - -After cautioning him, Persephoné led Tristan through a narrow door in a -wall and they emerged in a garden. They were now in a fragrant almond -grove where the branches of the trees effectually excluded the rays of -the rising moon, making it hardly possible to distinguish Persephoné's -tall and lithe form. - -Presently they emerged upon a smooth and level lawn, shut in by a -black group of cedars, through the lower branches of which peeped the -crescent moon and, turning the corner of a colonnade, they entered -another door which opened to Persephoné's touch and admitted them into -a long dark passage with a lamp at the farther end. - -"Stay here, while I fetch a light," Persephoné whispered to Tristan -and, gliding away, she presently returned, to conduct him through a -dark corridor into another passage, where she stopped abruptly and, -raising some silken hangings, directed him to enter. - -"Wait here. I will announce you."-- - - - - -CHAPTER V - -MAGIC GLOOMS - - -Floods of soft and mellow light dazzled Tristan's eyes at first, but -he soon realized the luxurious beauty of the retreat into which he had -been ushered. It was obvious that, despite a decadent age, all the -resources of wealth had been drawn upon for its decoration. The walls -were painted in frescoes of the richest colorings and represented the -most alluring scenes. Around the cornices, relics of imperial Rome, -nymphs and satyrs in bas-relief danced hand in hand, wild woodland -creatures, exultant in all the luxuriance of beauty and redundancy of -strength; and yonder, where the lamp cast its softest glow upon her, -stood a marble statue of Venus Anadyomené, her attitude expressive of -dormant passion lulled by the languid insolence of power and tinged -with an imperious coquetry, the most alluring of all her charms. - -Tristan moved uneasily in his seat, wishing that he had not come, -wondering how he had allowed himself to be thus beguiled, wondering -what it was all about, when a rustling of the hangings caused him to -turn his head. There was no more attraction now in bounding nymph or -marble enchantress. The life-like statue of Venus was no longer the -masterpiece of the chamber for there, in the doorway, appeared Theodora -herself. - -Tristan rose to his feet, and thus they stood, confronting each other -in the subdued light--the hostess and her guest--the assailant and the -assailed. - -Theodora trembled in every limb, yet she should have remained the -calmer of the two, inasmuch as hers could scarcely have been the -agitation of surprise. Such a step indeed, as she had taken, she had -not ventured upon without careful calculation of its far reaching -effect. Determined to make this obstinate stranger pliable to her -desires, to instill a poison into his veins which must, in time, work -her will, she had deliberately commanded Persephoné to conduct him to -this bower, the seductive air of which no one had yet withstood. - -Theodora was the first to speak, though for once she hardly knew how -to begin. For the man who stood before her was not to be moulded by a -glance and would match his will against her own. Such methods as she -would have employed under different circumstances would here and now -utterly fail in their intent. For once she must not appear the dominant -factor in Rome, rather a woman wronged by fate, mankind and report. Let -her beauty do the rest. - -"I have sent for you," she said, "because something tells me that I -can rely implicitly on your secrecy. From what I have seen of you, I -believe you are incapable of betraying a trust." - -Theodora's words had the intended effect. Tristan, expecting reproach -for his intentional slight of her advances, was thrown off his guard -by the appeal to his honor. His confusion at the sight of the woman's -beauty, enhanced by her gorgeous surroundings, was such that he did but -bow in acknowledgment of this tribute to his integrity. - -Theodora watched him narrowly, never relinquishing his gaze, which -wandered unconsciously over her exquisite form, draped in a diaphanous -gown which left the snowy arms and hands, the shoulders and the round -white throat exposed. - -"I have been told that you have accepted service with the Lord Alberic, -who has offered to you, a stranger, the most important trust in his -power to bestow." - -Tristan bowed assent. - -"The Lord Alberic has rewarded me, far beyond my deserts, for ever so -slight a service," he replied, without referring to the nature of the -service. - -Theodora nodded. - -"And you--a stranger in the city, without counsellor--without friend. -Great as the honor is, which the Senator has conferred upon you--great -are the pitfalls that lurk in the hidden places. Doubtlessly, the -Lord Alberic did not bestow his trust unworthily. And, in enjoining -above all things watchfulness--he has doubtlessly dropped a word of -warning regarding his kinswoman," here Theodora dropped her lids, as -if she were reluctantly touching upon a distasteful subject, "the Lady -Theodora?" - -As suddenly as she had dropped her lids as suddenly her eyes sank into -the unwary eyes of Tristan. The scented atmosphere of the room and the -woman's nearness were slowly creeping into his brain. - -"The Lord Alberic did refer to the Lady Theodora," he stammered, loth -to tell an untruth, and equally loth to wound this beautiful enigma -before him. - -"I thought so!" Theodora interposed with a smile, without permitting -him to commit himself. "He has warned you against me. Admit it, my Lord -Tristan. He has put you on your guard. And yet--I fain would be your -friend--" - -"The Lord Alberic seems to count you among his enemies," Tristan -replied. The mention of an accepted fact could not, to his mind, be -construed into betraying a confidence. - -Theodora smiled sadly. - -"The Lord Alberic has been beguiled into this sad attitude by one who -was ever my foe, perchance, even his. Time will tell. But it was not -to speak of him that I summoned you hither. It is because I would -appear lovable in your eyes. It is, because I am not indifferent to -your opinion, my Lord Tristan. Am I not rash, foolish, impulsive, in -thus placing myself in the power of one who may even now be planning -my undoing? One who on a previous occasion so grievously misjudged my -motives as to wound me so cruelly?" - -The woman's appeal knocked at the portals of Tristan's heart. Would -she but state her true purpose, relieve this harrowing suspense. She -had propounded the question with a deepening color, and glances that -conveyed a tale. And it was a question somewhat difficult to answer. - -At last he spoke, stammeringly, incoherently: - -"I shall try to prove myself worthy of the Lady Theodora's confidence." - -She seemed somewhat disappointed at the coldness of his answer, -nevertheless her quick perception showed her where she had scored a -point, in making an inroad upon his heart. And her critical eye could -not but approve of the proud attitude he assumed, the look that had -come into his face. - -She edged a little closer to him and continued in a subdued tone. - -"A woman is always lonely and helpless--no matter what may be her -station. How liable we are to be deceived or--misjudged. But I knew -from the first that I could trust you. Do you remember when we first -met in the Navona?" - -Again the warm crimson of the cheek, again the speaking flash from -those luring eyes. Tristan's heart began to beat with a strange -sensation of excitement and surprise. To love this wonder of all -women--to be loved by her in return--life would indeed be one mad -delirium. - -"How could I forget it?" he said, more warmly than he intended, meeting -her gaze. "It was on the day when I arrived in Rome." - -Her eyes beamed on him more benevolently than ever. - -"I saw you again at Santa Maria of the Aventine. I sent for you," she -said, with drooping lids, "because I so wanted some one to confide -in. I have no counsellor,--no champion--no friend. The object of -hatred to the rabble which stones those to-day before whom it cringed -yesterday--I am paying the penalty of the name I bear--kinship to one -no longer among the living. But you scorned my messenger. Why did you?" - -She regarded Tristan with expectant, almost imploring eyes. She saw him -struggling for adequate utterance. Continuing, she held out to him her -beautiful hands. Her tone was all appeal. - -"I want you to feel that Theodora is your friend. That you may turn to -her in any perplexity that may beset you, that you may call upon her -for counsel whenever you are in doubt and know not what to do. And oh! -I want you to know above all things how much you could be to me, did -you but trust--had not the drop of poison instilled by the Senator set -you against the one woman who would make you great, envied above all -men on earth!" - -Tristan bent over Theodora's hands and kissed them. Cool and trusting, -yet with a firm grasp, they encircled his burning palms and their -whiteness caused his senses to reel. - -"In what manner can I be of service to the Lady Theodora?" he spoke at -last, unable to let go of those wonderful hands that sent the hot blood -hurtling to his brain. - -Theodora's face was very close to his. - -As she spoke, her perfumed breath softly fanned his cheeks. - -She spoke with well-studied hesitancy, like a child that, in preferring -an overbold request, fears denial in the very utterance. - -"It is a small thing, I would ask," she said in her wonderfully -melodious voice. "I would once again visit the places where I have -spent the happy days of my childhood, the galleries and chambers of -the Emperor's Tomb. You start, my Lord Tristan! Perchance this speech -may sound strange to the ears of one who, though newly arrived in Rome, -has heard but vituperations showered upon the head of a defenceless -woman, who, if not better, is at least not worse than the rest of her -kind. Yes--" she continued, returning the pressure of his fingers -and noting, not without inward satisfaction, a soft gleam that had -dispelled the sterner look in his eyes, "those were days of innocence -and peace, broken only when the older sister, my equal in beauty, -began to regard me as a possible rival. Stung by her taunts I leaped -to her challenge and the fight for the dominion of Rome was waged -between us with all the hot passion of our blood, Marozia conquered, -but Death stood by unseen to crown her victory. The Mount of Cloisters -is my asylum. The gates of the Emperor's Tomb are sealed to me forever -more. Why should Alberic, disregarding the ties of blood, fear a -woman--unless he hath deeply wronged her, even as he has wronged -another who wears the crown of thorns upon earth?" - -Theodora paused, her lids half-shut as if to repress a tear; in reality -to scan the face of him who found her tale most strange indeed. - -And, verily, Tristan was beginning to feel that he could not depend -upon himself much longer. The subdued lights, the heavy perfume, the -room itself, the seductive beauty of this sorceress so near to him that -her breath fanned his cheeks, the touch of her hands, which had not -relinquished his own, were making wild havoc with his senses and reason. - -Like many a gentle and inexperienced nature, Tristan shrank from -offending a woman's delicacy, by even appearing to question the truth -of her words, and he doubted not but that here was a woman who had -been sinned against much more than she had sinned, a woman capable -of gentler, nobler impulses than were credited to her in the common -reckoning. It required indeed a powerful constraint upon his feelings -not to give way to the starved impulse that drove him to forget past, -present and future in her embrace. - -A sad smile played about the small crimson mouth as Theodora, with a -sigh, continued: - -"I have quaffed the joys of life. There is nothing that has remained -untasted. And yet--I am not happy. The fires of unrest drive me hither -and thither. After years of fiercest conflict, with those of my own -sex and age, who consider Rome the lawful prey of any one that may -usurp Marozia's fateful inheritance, I have had a glimpse of Heaven--a -Heaven that perchance is not for me. Yet it aroused the desire for -peace--happiness--love! Yes, my Lord Tristan, love! For though I have -searched for it in every guise, I found it not. Will the hour every -toll--even for me? Deem you, my Lord Tristan, that even one so guilt -lost as Theodora might be loved?" - -"How were it possible," he stammered, "for mortal eyes to resist such -loveliness?" - -His words sounded stilted in his ears. Yet he knew if he permitted the -impulse to master him he would be swept away by the torrent. - -The woman also knew, and woman-like she felt that the poison rankled in -his veins. She must give it time to work. She must not precipitate a -scene that might leave him sobered, when the fumes had cleared from his -brain. - -Putting all the witchery of her beauty into her words she said, with a -tinge of sadness: - -"I fear I am trespassing, my Lord Tristan. It is so long, since I have -unveiled the depths of my heart. Forget the request I have made. It may -conflict with your loyalty to my Lord Alberic. I shall try to foster -the memories of the place which I dare not enter--" - -She had ventured all upon the last throw, and she had conquered. - -"Nay, Lady Theodora," Tristan interposed, with a seriousness that -even staggered the woman. "There is no such clause or condition in the -agreement between the Lord Alberic and myself. It is true," he added in -a solemn tone, "he has warned me of you, as his enemy. Report speaks -ill of you. Nevertheless I believe you." - -"I thank you, my Lord Tristan," she said, releasing his hands. -"Theodora never forgets a service. Three nights hence I am giving a -feast to my friends. You will not fail me?" - -"I am happy to know," he said, "that the Lady Theodora thinks kindly -of me. I shall not fail her. And now"--he added, genuine regret in his -tone--"will the Lady Theodora permit me to depart? The hour waxes late -and there is much to be done ere the morrow's dawn." - -Theodora clapped her hands and Persephoné appeared between the curtains. - -"Farewell, my Lord Tristan. We shall speak of this again," she said, -beaming upon him with all the seductive fire of her dark eyes, and he, -bowing, took his leave. - -When Persephoné returned, she was as much puzzled at the inscrutable -smile that played about her mistress' lips as she had been at Tristan's -abstracted state of mind, for, hardly noting her presence, he had -walked in silence beside her to the gate, and had there taken silent -leave.-- - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE LURE OF THE ABYSS - - -The sun had sunk to rest in fleecy clouds of crimson and gold. - -The clear and brilliant moonlight of Italy enveloped hill and dale, -bathing in its effulgence the groves, palaces and ruins of the Eternal -City. The huge pile of the Colosseum was bathed in its rosy glow, -raising itself in serene majesty towards the beaming night sky. - -A few hours later a great change had come over the heavens. The wind -had sprung up and had driven the little downy clouds of sunset into -a great, black mass, which it again tore into flying tatters that it -swept before it. The moon rose and raced through the dun and silver. -Below it, in the vast spaces of the deserted amphitheatre, from whose -vomitories pale ghosts seemed to flit, the big boulders and rain-left -pools looked dim and misty. Night had cast her leper's cloak on nature -and the moon seemed the leprous face. - -Deepest silence reigned, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl, -or the swishing of a bat that whirled its crazy flight in and out the -labyrinthine corridors. - -By the largest of these boulders stood the dark cloaked form of a man. -As the moon-thrown shadows of the clouds swept over him and the rude -rock by which he stood looking up at the sky, his black mantle flapped -in the wind and clung to his limbs, making him look even taller than he -was. - -At the feet of Basil cowered the huge Molossian hound. As the wind -grew stronger and the clouds above assumed more fantastic shapes, it -raised its head and gave voice to a low whine. On the distant hillocks -a myriad dusky flames seemed to writhe and hiss and dart through tinted -moon-gleams. - -Three times he whistled--and in the misty, moonlit expanse countless -forms, as weird as himself, seemed to rise and form a great circle -about him. - -Were they the creatures of his brain which had at last given way in the -excitement of the hour? Were they phantoms of mist and moon, wreathing -round him from the desolate marshes? Or were they real beings of flesh -and blood, congregations of crime and despair, mad with the misery of a -starving century, the horrors of serfdom and oppression that had united -in the great reel of a Witches' Sabbat? - -Round him they circled, at first slowly,--like the curls of a marsh, -then faster and ever faster, till his eyes could scarcely follow them -as they rotated about him in their horrible dance of madness and sin. - -Black clouds raced over the moon. The reddish gleam of a forked tongue -of fire illumined the dark heavens, and thunder went pealing down the -hills. Suddenly out of the underbrush arose a black form, about the -height and breadth of a man, but without the distinct outlines of -one. Basil's face grew white as death, and his gaze became fixed as -he clutched at the rock for support. But the next moment he seemed to -gain his reassurance from the knowledge that he had seen this phantom -before. The dog lay at his feet and continued its low tremulous whine. - -"You have kept the tryst," gibbered the bent form as it slowly -approached, supporting itself upon a crooked staff of singular height. - -"Else were I not the man to compel fate to do my bidding," responded -the Grand Chamberlain. "Fear can have no part in the compact which -binds us. I have live things under my feet that clog my steps and grow -more stubborn day by day."-- - -"Deem you, you can keep your footing in the black lobbies of hell?" -gibbered the cowled form. "For you will need all your courage, if you -would reach the goal!" - -Basil, for a moment, faced his shadowy interlocutor in silence. There -was a darker light in his eyes when he spoke. - -"Give me but that which my soul desires and I shall run the gauntlet -unflinchingly. I shall brace my courage to the dread experiment." - -A fierce gust of wind shook the cypresses and holm oaks into shuddering -anxiety. - -"You are about to embark upon an enterprise more perilous than any man -now living has ever ventured upon," spoke the cowled form. "Your soul -will travel through the channels, through which the red and fiery tide -rolls up when the volcano wakes. Each time it wakes the lava washes -over the lost souls, which, chained to rings in the black rock, glow -like living coals, but leaves them whole, to undergo their fate anew. -Do you persist?" - -"Give me what I desire--" - -"Ay--so say they all--but to grovel in the dust before the Unknown -Presence which they have defied." - -"Who are you to taunt me with a fear my soul knows not?" Basil turned -to the black-robed form, stretching out his hand as if to touch his -mantle. - -A magnetic current passed through his limbs that caused him to drop his -arm with a cry of pain. - -Forked lightnings leaped from one cloud-bank to another. - -Distant thunder growled and died among the hills. - -"I have seen the fall of Nineveh and Babylon. I was present at the -destruction of the Holy City by the legions of Titus, I witnessed the -burning of Rome by Nero and the fall of the temple of Serapis. I stood -upon Mount Calvary under the shadow of the world's greatest tragedy." - -The voice of the speaker died to silence. - -Basil's hand went to his head, as if he wished to assure himself -whether he was awake or in the throes of some mad dream. - -It is a narrow boundary line, that divides the two great realms of -sanity and madness. And the limits are as restless as those of two -countries divided from each other by a network of shifting rivers. What -belonged to the one overnight may belong to the other to-morrow. - -An overmastering dread had seized upon Basil at the speech of the -uncanny apparition. Was not he, too, pushing his excursions now into -the one realm, now into the other? And who would know in which of the -two to seek for him? - -"Have you indeed wandered upon earth ever since those days?" he -stammered, once more slave to his superstition. - -The apparition nodded. - -"I have drunk deep from the black wells of despair. I have raised the -shadowy altars of him who was cast out of the heavens, higher and -higher, till they almost touch the throne of the Father." - -"Your master then is Lucifer--" - -"Cannot the Fiend as well as God live incarnate in human clay? Is not -the earth the meeting ground of Heaven and Hell? Why should not Basil, -the Grand Chamberlain, be Hell's incarnation?"-- - -"What then must I do to deserve the crimson aureole?" - -"Espouse the cause of him who rules the shadows. He will give to you -what your soul desires. One of the shadowy congregation that rules the -world through fear, make quick wings for Time, that crawls through -eternity like a monstrous snake, while with starved desire your eyes -glare at the fleeting things of life--dominion, power and love, that -you may snatch from fate! Only by becoming one of us can your soul -slake its thirst. Speak--for my time is brief--" - -When Basil turned towards the bent form of the speaker his gaze fell -upon a gleaming knife which Bessarion had produced from under the loose -folds of his gown. - -For a moment the two stood face to face. Neither spoke, each seemingly -intent upon fathoming the thoughts of the other. The wind hissed and -screamed through the corridors of the Colosseum. - -It was Basil who broke the silence. - -"What is it, you want?" - -"Bare your left arm!" - -There was a natural hollow in the rock, that the weather had scooped -out in the stone altar. - -Basil obeyed. - -The gibbering voice rose again above the silence. - -"Hold it over the basin!" - -The lightnings twisted and streamed like silvery adders through the -dark vaults of the heavens, and terrific peals of thunder shook the -shuddering world in its foundations. - -The bent form raised the knife. - -Three drops of blood dripped, one by one, into the hollow of the stone. - -Bessarion chanted some words in an unintelligible jargon as, with a -claw-like hand, he bound up the wound in Basil's arm. - -"At midnight--in the Catacombs of St. Calixtus--you will stand face to -face with the Presence," the apparition spoke once more. - -The next moment, after a fantastic salutation, he had vanished, as if -the earth had swallowed him, behind a projecting rock. - -Basil remained for a time in deep rumination. The Molossian hound -rose up from the ground as soon as the adept of the black arts had -disappeared, and, sitting on its haunches, gazed inquisitively into its -master's face. - -Suddenly it uttered a growl. - -At the next moment the misshapen form of an African Moor crouched at -the feet of the Grand Chamberlain. Noiselessly and swiftly as a panther -he had sped through the waste spaces of the amphitheatre, and even -Basil could not overcome a feeling of revulsion as he gazed into the -hairy, bestial features of Daoud, whom he employed when secrecy and -despatch were essential to the success of a venture. - -Red inflamed eyelids gleamed from a face whose cadaverous tints seemed -enhanced by wiry black hair that hung in disordered strands from under -a broad Spanish hat. Daoud was undersized in stature, but possessed -prodigious strength, and the size of his hands argued little in favor -of him who had incurred the disfavor of his master or his own. - -This monster in human guise Basil had acquired from a certain nobleman -in the suite of the Byzantine ambassador extraordinary to the Holy See. - -Basil looked up at the moon which just then emerged from the shadow of -a cloud. Then he gave a nod of satisfaction. - -"Your promptness argues well for your success," he turned to his runner -who was cowering at his feet, the ashen face with the blinking and -inflamed eyes raised to his master. "Know you the road to southward, my -good Daoud?" - -The Moor gave a nod and Basil proceeded. - -"You must depart this very night. Take the road that leads by Benevento -to the Shrines of the Archangel. You will overtake the Senator and -deliver into his hands this token. You will return forthwith and bring -to me--his answer. Do I make myself quite clear to your understanding, -my good Daoud?" - -The Moor fell prostrate and touched Basil's buskin with his forehead. - -"Up!" the latter spurned the kneeling brute. "To-morrow night must find -you in the Witches' City." - -With these words he placed into the Moor's hand a small article, -carefully tied and sealed. - -The twain exchanged a mute glance of mutual understanding, then Daoud -gave a bound, darted forward and shot away like an arrow from the bow. -Almost instantly he was out of sight. - -The hound bounded after him but, obedient to his master's call, -instantly returned to the latter's feet. - -For some time Basil remained near the rock where the weird ceremony had -taken place. - -"The Rubicon is passed," he muttered. "The stars--or the abyss." - -Then, slowly quitting the stupendous ruins of the Amphitheatre, he took -the direction of the Catacombs of St. Calixtus. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE FACE IN THE PANEL - - -On the following day Tristan entered upon his duties as captain of the -Senator's guard. - -The first person upon whom he chanced on his rounds at the Lateran -was the Grand Chamberlain, who inquired affably how his penitences -were progressing and expressed the hope that he had received final -absolution, and that his sins would not weigh too heavily upon his -soul. Basil commended him for his zeal in the cause of the Senator, -hinting incidentally that his duties between the Lateran and Castel San -Angelo need not deprive him of the society of the fair Roman ladies, -who would welcome the stranger from Provence and would doubtlessly -enmesh his heart, if it were not well guarded. He then proceeded to -caution Tristan with respect to his exalted prisoner. Numerous attempts -at abduction had been made from time to time, Tristan having, by his -prowess and daring, prevented the last, emanating doubtlessly from the -Pontiff's nearest kith and kin. The men under him could be fully relied -upon. Nevertheless, it behooved him to be circumspect. - -After a time Basil departed, and Tristan went about his business, -inspecting the guard and familiarizing himself with the place where he -was to keep his first watch. - -The level beams of the evening sun filled the Basilica of St. John in -Laterano. There were pearl lights and lights of sapphire; falling -radiances of emerald and blood-red; vague translucent greens, that -seemed to tremble under spiral clouds of incense. - -Now the sun was sinking behind Mount Janiculum. The clouds at the -zenith of the heavens were rose-hued, but it was growing dark in the -valleys, and the great church began to take on sombre hues. It seemed -to frown upon him, to warn him not to enter, an impression he was long -afterwards to remember, as he strode through the high-vaulted corridors. - -He hesitated, till the sound of a distant chant reached his ear. With -a sort of fascination he could not account for, he watched the advance -of the slowly gathering gloom, as an increasing greyness stole into the -chapels. - -Evening was about to take the veil of night. - -The light left the stained-glass windows and the church grew darker and -darker. The altar steps lay now in purple shadows that were growing -deeper and denser each moment. - -Shadowy forms seemed to be moving about in the sanctuaries. Soon a monk -entered with a taper, lighting the lights before some remote shrines. -Tristan could not distinguish his features, for the light was very dim. -Yet it enabled him to see that there were a few belated worshippers in -the church. - -After a time the great nave was deserted. As the lone monk passed -quickly through a sphere of thin light, Tristan gave a start. It seemed -a ghost in a cassock that had vanished in the sacristy. He told himself -that the impression was absurd, but he could not throw it off. He -had caught a momentary glimpse of a face that had no human likeness, -and the way in which the cassock had flapped about the limbs of the -fleeting form seemed to suggest that it clothed a frame that had lost -its flesh. - -Superstitious fear began to creep over him. He felt that he must -seek the open, escape the haunting incense-saturated pall, these dim -sepulchral chapels. Such light as there was, save what emanated from -the candles on the altar, came from a stone lamp which cast its glimmer -on the vanishing form. - -In every corner of the vast nave now lay fast gathering darkness. The -figures of the saints seemed vague and formless. The altar loomed dim -in the shadows. - -All these things Tristan noted. - -The whole interior of the church was now steeped in the dense pall of -night, illumined only by the faint radiance of the lamp upon the altar, -which seemed rather to intensify than to lift the gloom. - -A faint footfall was audible behind the carven screen, near the -entrance to the chapels. A figure, almost lost in the gloom, glided -into the nave, and shadows were falling about him like thin veils. - -It was an unusual hour for monks to be abroad. None the less, he -seemed sure of himself, for he proceeded without hesitation to the -altar, shrouded as it was in utter darkness, but for the light of one -faint taper, which gleamed afar, like a star in the nocturnal heavens, -driving the gloom a few paces from the carven stone. There the shrouded -form seemed to melt into the very pall of night that weighed heavily -upon the time-stained walls of the Mother Church of Rome. - -At first Tristan thought it was some belated penitent seeking -forgiveness for his sins, but when the dark-robed form did not return -he strode towards the altar to see if he might perchance be of -assistance to him. - -When Tristan reached the altar steps he could discover no trace of a -human being, though he searched every nook and corner and peered into -every chapel, examined every shrine. - -Seized with a strange restiveness he began to pace up and down before -the altar steps. He was far from feeling at ease. He remembered the -warning of the Grand Chamberlain. He remembered the strange tales he -had heard whispered of the Pontiff's prison house. - -Tristan suddenly paused. - -He thought he heard sibilant whispers and the low murmur of voices from -behind the screen at the eastern transept of the Capella, and at once -he began assembling the things in his mind which might beset him in the -hour of darkness. - -The Chapel of the Most Holy Saviour of the Holy Stairs, the Scala -Santa of the present day, adjoins the Lateran Church. At the period -of which we write it was still the private chapel of the popes in the -Patriarchium, and was called the Sancta Sanctorum on account of the -great number of precious relics it enshrines. - -To this chapel Tristan directed his steps, oppressed by some mysterious -sense of evil. By a judicious disposition of the men under his command -he had, after a careful survey of the premises, placed them in such a -manner that it would be impossible for any one to gain access to the -stairs leading to the Pontiff's chamber. - -Had it been a hallucination of his senses conjured up by his sudden -fear? - -Not a sound broke the stillness. Only the echoes of his own footsteps -reverberated uncannily from the worn mosaics of the floor. In the dim -distance of the corridors he saw a shadow moving to and fro. It was the -guard before the entrance to a side-chapel of the Basilica. - -What caused Tristan to pause in the night gloom of the corridor leading -to the Pontifical Chapel he did not know. He seemed as under a strange -spell. At a distance from him of some five feet, in the decorated wall, -there was a dark panel some two feet in height and of corresponding -breadth, looking obliquely towards the Pontifical Chapel. The panel -contained a small round opening, a spy-hole which communicated with a -secret chamber in the thickness of the wall. - -A slight rustling noise came from behind the masonry. Tristan heard it -quite distinctly. It suggested the passing of naked feet over marble. - -Suddenly, noiselessly the panel parted. - -A sudden gleam of white, blinding light shot into the chapel like a -spear of silver. - -Tristan paused with a start, looking swiftly and inquiringly at the -black slit in the wall and as he did so the spear of light shifted a -little in its passing. - -A face, white with the pallor of death, ghastly and hideous as a corpse -that has retained upon its set features the agony of dying, peered out -from blackness into blackness. - -A tremor shook Tristan's frame from head to toe. He could not have -cried out, had he wished to. He felt as one grazed by a lightning bolt. -Then, in a flash that made his heart and soul shudder within him, he -knew. - -He had seen looking at him a face--the clean shaven face of a man. But -it was not human. It bore the terrible stigmata of the unquenchable -fire; an abominable vision of the lust that cannot be satiated, the -utter, unconquerable, fiendish malevolence of Hell. A harsh, raven-like -croak broke the stillness, and at the sound of that cry the terrible -face vanished with the swiftness of a trick. Instead, a long arm, -clothed in a black sleeve, stole through the opening. A flash, keen -as that of the lightning, cut the air and a dagger struck the mosaic -floor at Tristan's feet with such force that its point snapped after -shattering the stone, drawing fire from the impact. - -Bounding back, Tristan uttered a shrill cry of terror, but when he -looked in the direction of the panel only dim dun dusk met his eyes. - -Rushing frantically from the corridor he now called with all his might. -His outcries brought the guards to the scene. Briefly, incoherently, -almost mad with terror, he told his tale. They listened with an air of -amazement in which surprise held no small share. Then they accompanied -him back to the chapel. - -Arriving near the spot he was about to point to the dagger, to -corroborate his wild tale. But the dagger had disappeared. Only the -shattered marble of the floor lent testimony and credence to his words. - -On the following morning an outcry of horror arose from all quarters of -Rome. - -On the night which preceded it, the Holy Host had been taken from the -Pontifical Chapel in the Lateran. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE SHADOW OF ASRAEL - - -It was ten in the morning. - -Deep silence reigned in the strange walled garden on the Pincian Hill -that surrounded the marble villa of the Grand Chamberlain. Only the -murmur of the city below and the soft sounds of bells from tower and -campanile seemed to break the dreamlike stillness as they began to toll -for High Mass. - -In a circular chamber lighted only by lamps, for there were no windows, -and daylight never penetrated there, before an onyx table covered with -strange globes and philtres, sat Basil. - -The walls of the chamber were of wood stained purple. The far wall -was hidden by shelves on which were many rolls of vellum and papyrus, -spoils of pagan libraries of the past. There were the works of monks -from all the monasteries of Europe, illuminated by master hands, the -black letter pages glowing with red and gold, almost priceless even -then. In one corner of the room stood an iron chest, secured by locks. -What this contained no one even dared to guess. - -As the chimes from churches and convents reached his ears, Basil's face -paled. Something began to stir in the dark unfathomable eyes as some -unknown thing stirs in deep water. Some nameless being was looking out -of those windows of the soul. Yet the rest of the face was unruffled -and expressionless, and the contrast was so horrible that a spectator -would have shrank away, cold fear gripping his heart, and perhaps a cry -upon his lips. - -Basil had closed the heavy bronze doors behind him when he had entered -from the atrium. The floor of colored marbles was flooded with the -light from the bronze lamps. Before him was a short passage, hardly -more than an alcove, terminating in a door of cedarwood behind a purple -curtain. - -In the dull yellow gleam of the lamps the chamber seemed cold, full of -chill and musty air. - -In a moment however the lamps seemed to burn more brightly, as Basil's -eyes became adjusted to their lights. - -There was the silence of the tomb. The lamps burnt without a flicker, -for there was not a breath of air to disturb their steady glow. The -plan of the room, its yellow lights, its silence, its entire lack of -correspondence with the outside world, was Basil's own. He had designed -it as a port, as it were, whence to put out to sea upon the tide of his -ever-changing moods in the black barque of sin. - -For some time he remained alone in the silent room, dreaming and -brooding over greatness and power, that terrible megalomania that is -the last and rarest madness of all. - -He had read of Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, of Heliogabalus, whose -madness passed the bounds of the imaginable. Like gold and purple -clouds, bursting with sombre light and power, they had passed over Rome -and were gone. - -Then thoughts of the popes came to him, those supreme rulers of the -temporal and spiritual world whose dominion had been so superb, since -they first began to crown the emperors, one hundred and thirty-five -years ago. - -In a monstrous and swiftly moving panorama they passed through a brain -that worked as if it were packed in ice. And yet one and all had gone -into the dark. The power of none had been lasting and complete. - -But into his reverie stole a secret glow, into his blood an intense, -ecstatic quickening. For them the hour had tolled. Each step in life -was but one nearer the grave. Not so was it to be with him. - -A black fire began to burn round his heart, coiling there like a -serpent, as he thought of the illumination that was his, the promise -he had received--deep down in the crypts of the Emperor's Tomb and -again in the Catacombs of St. Calixtus. And he had fallen down and -worshipped, had given his soul to Darkness and abjured the Light. - -Satan should rule again on earth. For this had been revealed to him -by the High Priest of Satan himself, then in a vision by the Lord of -Evil. To penetrate the mysteries of Hell with his whole heart and soul, -to strike chill terror into the hearts of those who worshipped at the -altars of Christ, had become Basil's ambition for which he would live -and die. - -Basil sat dreaming and gloating over his coming glory; a glory in which -the woman whose beauty had stung him with maddening desire should -share, even if he had to drag her before the dark throne upon which sat -the Unspeakable Presence. The yellow light of the lamps fell upon his -unnatural and mask-like face as he sat rigid in his chair hypnotized by -Hell. - -Christ had thrown his great Cross upon the feasts and banquets of the -gods. On his head was a crown of thorns and the Stigmata upon his hands -and feet. And the goblets of red gold had lost their brightness. The -pagan gods were stricken dumb. They had faded away in vapor and were -gone. - -And with them the fierce joy of living had left the world. Christ -reigned upon earth, implanting conscience in the souls of men, that -robbed ecstasy of its fruition and infused the most delicious cup -touched with the Aliquid Amari of the poet. - -Basil paced the narrow confines of the room, and from his lips came the -opening stanza of that dreadful parody of the Good Friday hymn sung by -the votaries of Satan: "Vexilla Regis Prodeunt Inferni." - -Already the banners of the advancing hosts were in the sky. Soon--soon -would he appear himself--the Lord of Darkness! - -The room suddenly grew very chill, as if the three dread winds of -Cocytus were blowing through the chamber. - -There was a slim rod of copper suspended from the wall, close to the -couch of dull grey damask upon which he had been reclining. He pulled -it and somewhere away in the villa a gong sounded. A moment later a -drab man, lean as a skeleton and bald as an egg, with slanting eyes in -an ashen face and a stooping gait, came gliding noiselessly into the -lamplit room. He wore a long black cassock, which covered his fleshless -form from head to toe. - -"Has no one called?" Basil turned to his factotum. - -"A stranger," came the sepulchral reply. "He bade me give you this!" - -Basil took the scroll which his famulus handed to him and cut the cord. - -A fiendish smile passed over his face and lighted up the dark, sinister -eyes. But quickly as the mood had come it left. It fell from him as a -dropped cloak. - -He stood upright, supporting himself on the onyx table, while Horus, -who only understood in a dull dim way his master's moods, assisting -him in all his villainies, but confessing his own share to a household -priest, stood impassively by. - -"Give me some wine!" Basil turned to the sinister Major Domo, and the -latter disappeared and returned with a jug of Malvasian. - -The Grand Chamberlain grasped the jug which Horus had brought him and -held it with shaking fingers to his mouth. When he had drank deep he -dismissed his famulus, struck a flint and burnt the scroll to pallid -ashes. Then he staggered out into the hall of colored marbles and -through it to the garden doors. - -The bronze gates trembled as they swung back upon their hinges, and as -the full noon of the quiet garden burst upon Basil's eyes he fancied he -saw the fold of a dark robe disappear among the cypresses. - -And now the hot air of high noon wrapped him round with its warm -southern life, flowing over the lithe body within the silken doublet, -drawing away the inward darkness and the vaulting flames within his -soul and reminding his sensuous nature that the future held gigantic -promise of love and power. - -The great tenor and alto bells of St. John in Lateran were beating the -echoes to silver far away. The roofs and palaces, domes and towers of -Rome, were bathed in sunlight as he advanced to the embrasure in the -wall and once more surveyed the city. - -The heat shimmered down and, through the quivering sunlit air, the -colors of the buildings shone like pebbles at the bottom of a pool and -the white ruins glowed like a mirage of the desert. - -An hour later, regardless of the vertical sun rays that beat down -upon the tortuous streets of the city with unabated fervor, the Grand -Chamberlain rode through the streets of Rome, attended by a group of -men-at-arms with the crest of the Broken Spear in a Field of Azure -embroidered upon their doublets. - -As the cavalcade swept through the crowded streets, with their -pilgrims from all parts of the world, the religious in their habits, -men-at-arms, flower-sellers, here and there the magnificent chariot of -a cardinal, many of the people lowered their eyes as Basil cantered -past on his black Neapolitan charger, trapped with crimson. More than -one made the sign of the horn, to avert the spell of the evil eye. - -When Basil reached the Lateran he found a captain of the noble guard -with two halberdiers in their unsightly liveries guarding the doors. -They saluted and Basil inquired whether the new captain of the guard -was within. - -"The Lord Tristan is within," came the reply, and Basil entered, -motioning to his escort to await his return outside. - -The Grand Chamberlain traversed several anterooms, speaking to one -or the other of the senatorial guard, and on every face he read -consternation and fear. Little groups of priests stood together in -corners, whispering among each other; the whole of the Lateran was -aroused as by a secret dread. Such deeds, though they were known to -have occurred, were never spoken of, and the priests of the various -churches that had suffered desecration wisely kept their own counsel. - -In this, the darkest age in the history of Rome, when crime and lust -and murder lurked in every corner, an outrage such as this struck every -soul with horror and awe. It was unthinkable, unspeakable almost, -suggesting dark mysteries and hidden infamies of Hell, which caused the -blood to run cold and the heart to freeze. - -When Basil had made his way through the crowded corridors, receiving -homage, though men looked askance at him as he passed, he came to a -chamber usually reserved for a waiting room in times when the Pontiff -received foreign envoys or members of the priesthood and nobility; a -privilege from which the unfortunate prisoner in the Lateran was to be -forever debarred. - -Basil entered this chamber, giving orders that he was to be in no wise -disturbed until he called and those outside heard him lock and bar the -door from within. - -In the exact centre of the wall, reaching within two feet of the -ground, there was a large picture of St. Sebastian, barbarously painted -by some unknown artist. - -Basil approached the picture and pressed upon the flat frame with all -his strength. There was a sudden click, a whirring, as of the wheels of -a clock. Then the picture swung inward, revealing a circular stairway -of stone, mounting upward. Without replacing the panel door, Basil -mounted the stairs for nearly a hundred steps, until he came to a door -upon which he beat with the hilt of his poniard. - -An answering knock came from within, and the door opened. Basil entered -a small chamber, lighted from above by a window in a small dome. - -A bat-like figure stood before a table covered with strange -manuscripts. As Basil entered, a thin black arm emerged from the -folds of the gown, which the inmate of the chamber wore. Then, with a -quick bird-like movement, an immensely thin hand twisted like a claw, -wrinkled, yellow and of incredible age, was stretched out toward the -newcomer. - -On the second finger of this claw was a certain ring. Basil bent and -kissed the ring. There was another deft and almost imperceptible -movement. When the hand reappeared the ring was gone. - -"It has been done?" Basil turned to the dark-robed form in bated -whispers. - -The voice that answered seemed to come from a great distance. The lips -in the waxen face scarcely moved. They parted, that was all. Yet the -words were audible and distinct. - -"It was done. Last night." - -"You were not seen?" - -"I wore the mask." - -"Is it here?" Basil queried, his eyes flickering with a faint -reflection of that hate which had blazed in them earlier in the day. - -"It is not here." - -"Where is it?" - -"You shall know to-night!" - -The light faded out of Basil's eyes. - -"What of the new captain?" - -"His presence is a menace." - -In Basil's eyes gleamed a sombre fire. - -"I, too, owe him a grudge. In good time!" - -"The time is Now!" - -"Patience!" replied the Grand Chamberlain. "He will work his own -undoing. We dare not harm him yet." - -"Only a miracle saved him last night." - -"Are there not other churches in Rome?"-- - -"Ay!" mouthed the black form. "But the time of the great sacrifice -draws near--" - -"I knew not it was so near at hand," interposed Basil with a start. - -"The Becco Notturno demands a bride!" - -"How am I to help you in these matters?" - -"Am I to counsel the Lord Basil?" sneered the shape. "You drew the -crimson ball." - -"When is it to be?" - -"Three weeks from to-night. Mark you--a stainless dove!" - -Basil nodded, an evil smile upon his lips. - -"It shall be as you say! As for that other--I am minded to try his -mettle--" - -"So be it!" said the shape. "Leave me now! You will hear from me. My -familiars are everywhere." - -Without another word Basil arose and left the chamber. In the corridor -below he met Tristan. - -"I know all," he cut short the speech of the new captain of the guard. -"All Rome is full of it. How did it happen? And where?" - -"Attracted by a noise as of slippered feet passing over marble, I -entered the corridor of the Sacred Stairs, when one of the panels -parted. A devilish apparition stood within, throwing the beam of its -lantern into the chapel. When a chance ray of light disclosed my -presence the shape of darkness hurled a poniard. It missed me, thanks -be to Our Lady, struck the mosaic of the floor and broke in two." - -"You have the pieces?" Basil queried affably and with much concern. - -"I ran to the end of the gallery, shouting to my men," Tristan replied. -"When we returned the blade had disappeared." - -"Where was it?" Basil queried with much concern and soon they faced the -shattered mosaic. - -Basil examined the spot minutely. - -"From yonder panel, you say?" he turned to Tristan. - -"The third from the Capella," came the ready reply. - -"Have you searched the premises?" - -"From cellar to garret."-- - -"And discovered nothing?" - -"Nothing." - -"What of the panel?" - -"It defies our combined efforts." - -"Strange, indeed." - -Basil strode to the wall and struck the spot indicated by Tristan with -the hilt of his poniard. Then he tested the wall on either side. - -"Can your ear detect any difference in sound?" - -A negative gesture came in response, and with it a puzzled look passed -into Tristan's eyes. - -"Have you seen the Pontiff?" - -"We reported the matter to His Holiness." - -"And?" - -"His Holiness raised his eyes to heaven and said: 'Even God's Vicar has -no jurisdiction in Hell!'" - -"Was that all he said?" - -"That was all!" - -There was a silence during which Basil seemed to commune with himself. - -"It is indeed a matter of grave concern," he said at last. "Treason -stalks everywhere. I will send for my Spanish Captain, Don Garcia. He -may be of assistance to you." - -And Basil turned and walked down the corridor. - -After a time Tristan walked out upon the terrace looking toward the -Coelian Hill. - -A brilliant light beat upon domes and spires and pinnacles, and flooded -the august ruins of the Cæsars on the distant Palatine and the thousand -temples of the Holy Cross with scintillating radiance which poured down -from the intense blue of heaven.-- - -The long lights of the afternoon were shifting towards the eventide, -giving place to a limpid and colorless light that silvered the adjacent -olive groves. - -Tristan roused himself with a start. The sense of moving like a ghost -among a world of ghosts had left him. He was once more awake and aware. -But even now his sorrow, his fears, his hopes of winning again to some -safe harbor in the storm tossed Odyssey of his life, were numbed. They -lay heavy within him, but without urgency or appeal. - -What did it matter after all? Life was a little thing, a forlorn -minstrel that evoked melancholy strains from a pipe of oaten straw. -Life was a little thing, nor death a great one. For his part he would -not be loth to take his poppies and fall asleep. - -At one time or another such moods must come to all of us and be -endured. We must enter into the middle country, that dull Sahara of the -soul, a broad belt of barren land where no angels seem to walk by our -side, nor can the false voices of demons lure us to our harm. - -This is the land where we are imprisoned by the deeds of others and -never by our own. What we do ourselves will send us to Heaven or to -Hell; but not to the middle country where the plains of disillusion are. - -At last the sunset came. - -The ashen color of the olive-trees flashed out into silver, the -undulating peaks of the Sabine Mountains became faintly flushed and -phantom fair, as in a tempest of fire the sun sank to rest. The groves -of ilex and arbutus seemed to tremble with delight, as the long red -heralds touched their topmost boughs. - -The whole landscape seemed to smile a farewell to departing day. The -chimes of the Angelus trembled on the purple dusk. - -Night came on apace. - -Tristan re-entered the Lateran Basilica, set the watch and arranged -with Don Garcia to spend the night in the sacristy, while Don Garcia -was to guard the approaches to the Pontifical Chapel to prevent a -recurrence of the horrible sacrilege of the preceding night. - -One by one the worshippers left the vast nave of the church. After a -time the sacristans closed the heavy bronze doors and extinguished the -lights, all but the one upon the altar. - -When they, too, had departed, and deepest silence filled the sacred -spaces, Tristan emerged from a side chapel and took his station near -the entrance to the sacristy, where, on the preceding night, he had -seen the shadow disappear. - -How long he had been there in dread and wonder he did not know, when -two cloaked and hooded figures emerged slowly out of the gloom. He -could not tell whence they came or whether they had been there all the -time. They bent their steps towards the sacristy and, as they were -about to pass Tristan in his hiding-place, they paused as if conscious -of another presence. - -"As we proceed in this matter," whispered the one voice, "I grow -fearful. You know my relations to the Senator--" - -"Your anxiety moves me not," croaked the other voice. "Deem you to -attain your ends by mortal means?" - -The voice caused Tristan to shudder as with an ague, though he saw not -him who spoke. - -"What of yourself?" whispered the first speaker. - -"Have you forgotten," came the hoarse reply, "that either I am -soulless, or else my spirit, damned from its beginning, will scarce be -saved by the grace of Him I dare not name! You are defiled in the very -conversing with me." - -The tone in which these words were spoken, either defied answer, or, if -a response was made, it did not reach Tristan's ears as they slowly, -noiselessly, proceeded upon their way. - -Tristan vaguely listened for the echo of their retreating footsteps -as, passing behind the altar, they disappeared, as if the earth had -swallowed them. - -Now he was seized with a terrible fear. What, if they were to repeat -the sacrilege? He thought he recognized the voice of the first speaker; -but this no doubt was but a trick of his excited imagination. - -Determined to prevent so terrible a crime, he crept cautiously down -the narrow passage through which they had disappeared. Six steps he -counted, then he found himself in a room which seemed to be part of -the sacristy, yet not a part, for a postern stood open through which -gleamed the misty moonlight. - -There was little doubt in Tristan's mind that they had passed out -through this postern which had been left unguarded, and he found his -conjectures confirmed, when his eye, accustoming itself to the radiance -without, saw two misty figures passing along the road that leads past -the Coelian Hill through fields of ruins. - -Taking care so they would not be attracted by the sound of his steps, -Tristan crept in the shadows of roofless columns, shattered porticoes -and dismantled temples, half hidden amid the dark foliage that sprang -up among the very fanes and palaces of old. At times he lost sight -of his quarry. Again they would rise up before him like evil spirits -wandering through space. - -As Tristan continued in his pursuit, he began to be beset by dire -misgivings. - -The twain had vanished as utterly as if the earth had swallowed them -and he paused in his pursuit to gain his bearings. Had he followed two -phantoms or two beings in the flesh? Had he abandoned his watch for two -penitents who had perchance been locked in the church? - -What might not be happening at the Lateran at this very moment! How -would Don Garcia construe his absence? - -A tremor passed through his limbs. He started to retrace his steps, but -some unknown agency compelled him onward. - -Penetrating the gloomy foliage, Tristan found himself before a large -ruin, grey and roofless, from the interior of which came, muffled and -indistinct, the sound of voices. - -Two men were stealthily creeping beneath the shadow of a wall that -extended for some distance from the ruin. - -Both wore long monkish garbs and were muffled from head to toe. Over -their faces they wore vizors with slits for eyes and mouth. One of the -twain was spare, yet muscular. His companion walked with a stooping -gait and supported himself by a staff. - -The light which had attracted Tristan, emanated from a lantern which -they had placed on the ground and which they could shade at will, but -which cast its fitful glimmer over the grass plot, revealing what -appeared to be a grave, from which the mould had been thrown up. At a -short distance there stood a black and stunted yew tree. Before this -they paused. - -Now, from under his black cassock, the taller produced a strange -object, the nature of which Tristan was unable to discover by the -fitful light of the moon. - -No sooner was it revealed to his companion, than the latter began to -chant a weird incantation, in which he who held the strange object -joined. - -Louder and more strident grew their voices, and, notwithstanding the -warmth of the summer night, Tristan felt an icy shudder permeate his -whole being while, with a strange fascination, he watched the twain. - -Now he who supported himself by a staff uttered a shrill inarticulate -outcry, and, producing a long, gleaming knife from under his cassock, -stabbed the thing viciously, while his voice rose in mad, strident -screams: - -"Emen Hetan! Emen Hetan! Palu! Baalberi! Emen Hetan!" - -The fit of madness seemed to have caught his companion. Producing a -knife similar to that of the other he, too, stabbed the object he held -in his hand, shrieking deliriously: - -"Agora! Agora! Patrisa! Agora!" - -An hour was to come when Tristan was to learn the terrible import -of the apparently meaningless jumble which struck his ear with mad -discordance. - -Suddenly he felt upon himself the insane gleam of two eyes, peering -from the slits of the bent figure's mask. - -There was a death-like stillness, as both looked towards the intruder. -Tristan would have fled, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot. His -energies were paralyzed as under the influence of a terrible spell. - -The stooping form raised aloft a small phial. A bluish vapor floated -upward, in thin spiral curls. - -The effect was instantaneous. Tristan was seized by a great drowsiness. -His limbs refused to support him. He no longer felt the ground under -his feet. His hand went to his head and, reeling like a drunken man, -he fell among the tall weeds that grew in riotous profusion around the -ancient masonry. - -The setting moon shone out from behind a fleecy cloud, and in the -pallid crimson of her light the ill-famed ruins of the ancient temple -of Isis rose weird and ghostly in the summer night. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE FEAST OF THEODORA - - -A fairy-like radiance pervaded the great pavilion in the sunken gardens -of Theodora on Mount Aventine. - -It was a vast circular hall, roofed in by a lofty dome of richest -malachite, from the centre of which was suspended a huge globe of -fire, flinging blood-red rays on the amber colored silken carpets and -tapestries that covered floors and walls. The dome was supported by -rows upon rows of tall tapering crystal columns, clear as translucent -water and green as the grass in spring, and between and beyond these -columns were large oval shaped casements set wide open to the summer -night, through which the gleam of a broad lake, laden with water -lilies, could be seen shimmering in the yellow radiance of the moon. - -The centre of the hall was occupied by a long table in the form of a -horseshoe, upon which glittered vessels of gold, crystal and silver -in the sheen of the revolving globe of fire, heaped with all the -accessories of a sumptuous banquet, such as might have been spread -before the ancient gods of Olympus in the heyday of their legendary -prime. - -Strange scents assailed the nostrils: pomegranate and frankincense, -myrrh, spikenard and saffron, cinnamon and calamus mingled their -perfume with the insidious distillations of the jasmine, and spiral -clouds of incense rose from tripods of bronze to the vaulted ceiling. - -Inside the horseshoe, black African slaves, attired in fantastic -liveries of yellow and blue, crimson and white, orange and green, -carried aloft jewelled flagons and goblets, massive gold dishes and -great platters of painted earthenware. - -There were wines from Cyprus and Malvasia, from Montepulciano and the -sunny slopes of Hymettus, Chianti and Lacrymae Christi. - -The almost incredible brilliancy of the assembled company, contrasting -with the fantastic background, caught the eye as with a stab of pain, -held the gaze for a single instant of frozen incredulity, then gripped -the throat in a choking sensation by reason of its wonder. - -Lounging on divans of velvet and embroidered satin from the looms of -fabled Cathay, set in the old Roman fashion round the table, eating, -drinking, gossiping and occasionally bursting into wild snatches of -song, were a company of distinguished looking personages, richly -and brilliantly attired, bent upon enjoying the pleasures offered -by the immediate hour. All who laid claim to any distinction in the -seven-hilled city were there, the lords of the Campagna and of the -adjacent fiefs of the Church. Strangers from all parts of the inhabited -globe were there, steeping their bewildered brain in the splendors -that assailed their eyes on every point; from Africa and Iceland, from -Portugal and India, from Burgundy and Aquitaine, from Granada and from -Greece, from Germania and Provence, from Persia and the Baltic shores. -Their fantastic and semi-barbaric costumes seemed to enhance the -grotesque splendor of the banquet hall. - -The Romans were acquainting their guests with the exalted rank of -the woman who ruled the city as surely as ever had Marozia from the -Emperor's Tomb. And the strangers listened wide-eyed and with bated -breath. - -Near the raised dais which Theodora was to occupy, at the head of -the table, there were three couches reserved for guests who, like the -hostess, had not yet arrived. - -Below these, by the side of a martial stranger with the air of one -who would fain sweep the board clear of his neighbors on either -hand, devouring his food in fierce silence, sat the Prefect of Rome, -endeavoring to expound the qualities of his countrymen to the silent -guest, interspersing his encomiums now and then with a rapturous eulogy -of Theodora. - -"Monstrous times have robbed us Romans of the power of the sword. -But they cannot rob us of the power of the spirit, which will endure -forever." - -The stranger replied with a stony stare of contempt. - -Beside the Lord Atenulf of Benevento sat a tall girl with heavy coils -of blue black hair, eyes that smouldered with a sombre light, curved -carnation lips set in a perfect, oval face, and seeming more scarlet -than they were, owing to her ivory pallor, the tint of the furled -magnolia bud which is, perhaps, only seen to perfection in Italy and -especially in Rome. - -She looked at the grave-faced guest with quickened eyes. - -Snatching some vine leaves from a pyramid of grapes, as purple as the -tapestries of Tyre, she arose and laying her hand on the stranger's -arm, said laughingly: - -"Oh, what a brow! Dark as a thundercloud in June. Let me crown you with -the leaves of the vine! Perchance the hour will evoke the mood!" - -She twisted the leaves into a wreath and dropped them lightly on his -head. The eyes of the silent guest, set in a face of sanguine color, -leered viciously, with the looks of one who believes himself, however -mistakenly, master of himself. There was a contemptuous curl about his -lips. They were thick lips and florid. - -"Ah!" he turned to the girl in a barbarous jargon, "you are one of -those who go veiled in the streets." - -And as he spoke his eyes leered with yet livelier malice. - -The girl shrank back. - -"Those who go veiled know more than ordinary folk," she replied, then -mingled with the other guests. - -A young woman of great beauty, with light hair and blue eyes, sat -beside young Fabio of the Cavalli. Her bare arms, white as snow, and of -exquisite contour, encircled his neck, while he drank and drank. Now -and then she sipped of the wine, Lacrymae Christi from Viterbo, of the -greenish straw color of the chrysoberyl. - -Some one had put red poppy leaves in Roxana's hair, and as she sat by -the side of the youth, she had the air and appearance of a Corybante. - -Now and then she gave a glance at the purple curtain in the background, -and one who watched her closely might have seen a strange sparkle in -the depths of her clear blue eyes. With a look of disappointment she -turned away, as not a ripple of air stirred the curtain's heavy fold. -Then her arms stole anew round the youth, who drained one goblet after -another, as if each succeeding one yielded up a new secret to him. - -Roxana marked it well. - -Her eyes danced to his, whenever Fabio's gaze stole towards the purple -curtain which screened the mysterious garden beyond, in which the spray -of a fountain cast silvery showers into branch-shadowed thickets, -hidden retreats and silent, leafy alcoves, where flowers swooned in the -moonlight and gave up their perfume for love. - -From the immobile sable hangings the youth's eyes wandered back to -Roxana's face, but there lurked something strange in their depths. - -"Am I not more beautiful than Theodora?" whispered the woman by his -side, extending her marble arms before her lover. - -"You are beautiful, my Roxana," he stammered. "But Theodora is the most -beautiful woman on earth." - -Roxana turned very white at his words. - -"She has challenged me to come to her feast," she said in a low tone, -audible only to Fabio. "Let her look to herself!" - -And her eyes were alight with the desire of the meeting. - -On an adjoining couch reclined the huge jelly of a man who looked like -Pan, enormously swollen and bloated. His paunch bellied out over the -table like a full blown sail. His face was stained with many a night -of wine. The mulberry eyes twinkled merrily. The swollen lips babbled -incessantly. - -It was the Lord Boso of Caprara. - -"They say that seven devils were cast out of Magdalene--" he turned to -Roxana-- - -The Lord of Norba interposed. - -"De mortuis nil nisi bene! Natura abhorret vacuum! I drink to the -thirst to come!" - -And he raised his goblet and tossed it off. - -The Lord Atenulf rose to his feet, swaying and supporting himself with -one hand on the table. His great swollen face, big as a ham, creased -itself into merriment. - -"Let the wine ferret out the thirst!" he shouted, and drained off his -tankard. - -"Argus hath a hundred eyes! A butler ought to have a hundred hands!" -shouted the Lord of Camerino. "Wine,--slaves! Wine,--fill up in the -name of Lucifer!" - -"My tongue is peeling!" - -"Wine! Wine!" - -The Africans filled up the empty tankards. - -"Privatio praesupponit habitum!" opined the Prefect of Rome. - -"We drink to Life and the fleeting Hour." - -"Pereat Mors." - -And the goblets clanged. - -"Who speaks of Death?" shrieked young Fabio of the Cavalli, attempting -to rise. The wine was taking effect on his brain. - -Roxana drew him back on the couch beside her. - -"Fill the goblets! A brimmer of Chianti, red as blood--" - -"Or the poppies in Roxana's hair!" - -"Wine from Samos--sweetened with honey." - -"A decoction of Nectar and Ambrosia." - -The strangers who crowded the vast hall began to join in the mirth and -jollity of their Roman hosts, their Oriental apathy or frozen stolidity -melting slowly in the fumes of the wines. - -A curtain had parted and a bevy of girls clad in diaphanous gowns of -finest silver gauze made their way into the banquet hall and took their -seats, as choice directed, beside the guests. Peals of laughter echoed -through the vaulted dome, and excited voices were raised in clamorous -disputations and contentious arguments. The wine began to flow more -lavishly. The assembled guests grew more and more careless of their -utterances. They flung themselves full length upon their luxurious -couches, now pulling out handfuls of flowers from the tall malachite -jars that stood near, and pelting the dancing girls for idle diversion, -now summoning the attendant slaves to refill their wine cups, while -they lay lounging at ease among the silken cushions. - -There was a moment's silence, sudden, unexplained, like the presage of -some dark event. - -The slow solemn boom of a bell sounded the hour of midnight. - -The voices had ceased. - -With one accord, as though drawn by some magnetic spell, all turned -their eyes towards the purple curtain through which Theodora had just -entered, and, rising from their seats, they broke into boisterous -welcome and acclaim. Young Fabio of the Cavalli whose flushed face -had all the wanton, effeminate beauty of a pictured Dionysos, reeled -forward, goblet in hand and, tossing the wine in the air, so that it -splashed down at his feet, staining his garments, he shouted: - -"Vanish dull moon and be ashamed, for a fairer planet -rules the midnight sky! To Theodora--the Queen of Love!" - -[Illustration: "Pelting the dancing girls for idle diversion"] - -He staggered a few paces towards her, holding the empty goblet in -his hand. His hair tossed back from his brows and entangled in a -half-crushed wreath of vine-leaves, his garments disordered, his -demeanor that of one possessed of a delirium of the senses, he stared -at the wonderful apparition when, meeting Theodora's icy glance, he -started as if he had been suddenly stabbed. The goblet fell from his -hand and a shudder ran through his supple frame. - -By the side of the Grand Chamberlain, who was garbed in black from head -to toe, Theodora descended the steps that led from the raised platform -into the brilliant hall. - -Greeting her guests with her inscrutable smile, she moved as a queen -through a crowd of courtiers, the changing lights of crimson and green -playing about her like living flame, her head, wreathed with jewelled -serpents, rising proudly erect from her golden mantle, her eyes -scintillating with a gleam of mockery which made them look so lustrous, -yet so cold. - -Thus she strode towards the dais, draped in carnation-colored silks and -surmounted by an arch of ebony. - -For the space of a moment she paused, surveying her guests. A film -seemed to pass over her eyes as her gaze rested upon one who had slowly -arisen and was facing her in white silence. - -With a slight bend of the head Roxana acknowledged Theodora's silent -greeting; then, amidst loud shouts of acclaim she sank languidly upon -her couch, trying to soothe young Fabio, who had raised his fallen -goblet and held it out to a passing slave. The latter refilled it with -wine, which he gulped down thirstily, though the purple liquid brought -no color to his drawn and ashen cheek. - -Theodora paid no heed to the youth's discomfiture, but Roxana's face -was white as death, and her lips were set as the lips of a marble mask -as she gazed towards the ebony arch, upon which the eyes of all present -were riveted. - -With a rustle as of falling leaves Theodora's gorgeous mantle had -released itself from its jewelled clasps, and had slowly fallen on the -perfumed carpet at her feet. - -A sigh quivered audibly through the hall, whether of joy, hope, desire -or despair it was difficult to tell. The pride and peril of matchless -loveliness was revealed in all its fatal seductiveness and invincible -strength. In irresistible perfection she stood revealed before her -guests in a robe of diaphanous silver gauze, which clung like a pale -mist about the wonderful curves of her form and seemed to float about -her like a summer cloud. Her dazzling white arms were bare to the -shoulders. A silver serpent with a head of sapphires girdled her waist. - -Sinking indolently among the silken cushions of the dais, where she -gleamed in her wonderful whiteness like a glistening pearl, set in -ebony, Theodora motioned to her guests to resume their places at the -board. - -She was instantly obeyed. - -The Grand Chamberlain took what appeared to be his accustomed seat -at her right, the seat at her left remaining vacant. For a moment -Theodora's gaze rested thereon with a puzzled air, then she seemed to -pay no farther heed. - -But a close observer might have noted a shade of displeasure on the -brow of the Grand Chamberlain, which no attempt at dissimulation could -dispel. - -A triumphant peal of music, the clash of mingled flutes, hautboys, -tubas and harps rushed through the dome like a wind sweeping in from -tropical seas. - -Basil turned to Theodora with a searching glance. - -"One couch still awaits its guest." - -She nodded languidly. - -"Tristan--the pilgrim. He is late. Know you aught of him, my lord?" - -There was an air of mockery in her tone, not unmingled with concern. - -Basil's thin lips straightened. - -"Perchance the holy man hath other sheep in mind. What is he to you, -Lady Theodora? Your concern for him seems of the suddenest." - -"What is it to you, my lord?" she flashed in return. "Am I accountable -to you for the moods that sway my soul?" - -A mocking laugh startled both the Grand Chamberlain and Theodora. - -Low as the words between them had been spoken, they had reached the ear -of Roxana. Watchful of every shade of expression in Theodora's face, -she was resolved to take up the gauntlet her hated rival had thrown to -her, to draw her out of her defences into open conflict, for which she -longed with all the fire of her soul. Determined to wrest the dominion -of Rome from Marozia's beautiful sister, she was resolved to stake her -all, counting upon the effect of her wonderful beauty and her physical -perfection, which was a match for Theodora's in every point. - -This desire on Roxana's part was precipitated by the strange demeanor -of young Fabio of the Cavalli. From the moment Theodora had entered -the banquet hall his fevered gaze had devoured her wonderful beauty. -A feverish restlessness had taken possession of the youth and he had -rudely repelled Roxana when she tried to soothe his wine-besotten brain. - -"Perchance," she turned to Theodora, "remembering how Circé of old -changed her lovers into swine, the sainted pilgrim no longer worships -at Santa Maria of the Aventine." - -Theodora started at the sound of her rival's hated voice as if an asp -had stung her. - -"Perchance the well-known blandishments of our fair Roxana might -accomplish as much, if report speaks true," she replied, returning the -smouldering challenge in the other woman's eyes. - -"And why not?" came the purring response. "Am I not your match in body -and soul?" - -Every vestige of color had faded from Theodora's cheeks. For a moment -the two women seemed to search each other's souls, their bosoms -heaving, their eyes alight with the desire for the conflict. - -Roxana slowly arose and strode toward the vacant seat at Theodora's -left. - -"When you circled the Rosary on yesternight, fairest Theodora," she -purred, "was he not there--waiting for you?" - -Instead of Theodora, it was Basil who made reply. - -"Of whom do you speak?" - -Again the silvery ripple of Roxana's laughter floated above the din. - -"Perchance, my Lord Basil, our fair Theodora should be able to -enlighten you on that point--" - -"Of whom do you speak?" Basil turned to the woman. - -There was something ominous in his eyes. His face was pale. - -Theodora regarded him contemptuously, her dark slumbrous eyes turning -from him to the woman. - -"Beware lest I be tempted to strangle you," she spoke in a low tone, -her white hands opening and closing convulsively. - -"Like Persephoné, your Circassian,--in the Emperor's Tomb?" came the -taunting reply. - -Theodora's face was white as lightning. - -"I should not leave the work undone!" - -"Neither should I," came the purring reply, as Roxana extended her -wonderful hands and arms. "Meanwhile--will you not inform your guests -of the story of the pilgrim, who wellnigh caused Marozia's sister to -enter a nunnery?" - -A group of listeners had gathered about. - -Basil was swaying to and fro in his seat with suppressed fury. - -"One convent at least would be damned from gable to refectory," he -muttered, emptying the tankard which one of the Africans had just -replenished. - -Theodora regarded him icily. Her inscrutable countenance gave no hint -of her thoughts. She did not even seem to hear the questions which fell -thick and fast about her, but there was something in the velvet depths -of her eyes that would have caused even the boldest to tremble in the -consciousness of having incurred her anger. - -The Lord of Norba reeled towards the couch, where Roxana had taken her -seat, blinking out of small watery eyes and flirting with his lordly -buskins. - -"How came it about?" - -"What was he like?" - -Theodora turned slowly from the one to the other. Then with a voice -vibrant with contempt she said: - -"A man!" - -"And you were counting your beads?" shouted the Lord Atenulf in so -amazed a tone, that the guests broke out into peals of laughter. - -"It was then it happened," Roxana related, without relating. - -"How mysterious," shivered some one. - -"Will you not tell us?" Roxana challenged Theodora anew. - -Their eyes met. Roxana turned to her auditors. - -"Our fair Theodora had been suddenly touched by the spirit," she began -in her low musical voice. "Withdrawing from the eyes of man she gave -herself up to holy meditations. In this mood she nightly circled the -Penitent's Rosary at Santa Maria of the Aventine, praying that the -saint might take compassion upon her and deliver unto her keeping a -perfect, saintly man, pure and undefiled. And to add weight to her -own prayers, we, too, circled the Rosary; Gisla, Adelhita, Pamela and -myself. And we prayed very earnestly." - -She paused for a moment and looked about, as if to gauge the impression -her tale was producing on the assembled guests. Her smiling eyes swept -the face of Theodora who was listening as intently as if the incident -about to be related had happened to another, her sphinx-like face -betraying not a sign of emotion. - -"And then?" - -It was Basil's voice, hoarse and constrained. - -"Then," Roxana continued, "the miracle came to pass before our very -eyes. Behind one of the monolith pillars there stood one in a pilgrim's -garb, young and tall of stature. His gaze followed our rotations, and -each time we circled about him our fair Theodora offered thanks to the -saint for granting her prayer--" - -She paused and again her gaze mockingly swept Theodora's sphinx-like -face. - -"And then?" spoke the voice of Basil. - -"When our devotions had come to a close," Roxana turned to the speaker, -"Theodora sent Persephoné to conduct the saintly stranger to her -bowers. And then the unlooked for happened. The saintly stranger fled, -like Joseph of old. He did not even leave his garb." - -There was an outburst of uproarious mirth. - -"But do these things ever happen?" fluted the Poet Bembo. - -"In the realms of fable," shouted the Lord of Norba. - -"Now men have become wiser." - -"And women more circumspect." - -Theodora turned to the speaker. - -"Perchance traditions have been merely reversed." - -"Some recent events do not seem to support the theory," drawled the -Grand Chamberlain. - -Theodora regarded him with her strange inscrutable smile. - -"Who knows,--if all were told?" - -"The fact remains," Roxana persisted in her taunts, "that our fair -Theodora's power has its limits; that there is one man at least whom -she may not drug with the poison sweetness of her song." - -In Theodora's eyes gleamed a smouldering fire, as she met the -insufferable taunts of the other woman. - -"Why do you not try your own charms upon him, fairest Roxana?" she -turned to her tormentor. "Charms which, I grant you, are second not -even to mine." - -Roxana's bosom heaved. A strange fire smouldered in her eyes. - -"And deem you I could not take him from you, if I choose?" she replied, -the pupils of her eyes strangely dilated. - -"Not if I choose to make him mine!" flashed Theodora. - -Roxana's contemptuous mirth cut her to the quick. - -"You have tried and failed!" - -"I have neither tried nor have I failed." - -"Then you mean to try again, fairest Theodora?" came the insidious, -purring reply. - -"That is as I choose!" - -"It shall be as I choose." - -"What do you mean, fairest Roxana?" - -"I mean to conquer him--to make him mine--to steep his senses in so -wild a delirium that he shall forget his God, his garb, his honor. And, -when I have done with him, I shall send him to the devil--or to you, -fairest Theodora--to finish, what I began. This to prove you a vain -boaster, who has failed to make good every claim you have put forth--" - -Theodora was very pale. In her voice there was an unnatural calm as she -turned to the other woman. - -"You have boasted, you will make this austere pilgrim your own, body -and soul--you will cast the tatters of his soiled virtue at my feet. -I did not desire him. But now"--her eyes sank into those of the other -woman, "I mean to have him,--and I shall--with you, fairest Roxana, and -all your power of seduction against me! I shall have him--and when I -have done with him, not even you shall desire him--nor that other, whom -you serve--" - -Both women had risen to their feet and challenged each other with their -eyes. - -"By the powers of darkness, you shall not!" Roxana returned, pale to -the lips. - -"Take him from me--if you can!" Theodora flashed. "I shall conquer -you--and him!" - -At this point the Grand Chamberlain interposed. - -"Were it not wise," he drawled, looking from the one to the other, "to -acquaint this holy man with the perils that beset his soul, since the -two most beautiful and virtuous ladies in Rome seem resolved to guide -him on his Way of the Cross?" - -There was a moment of silence, then he continued in the same drawl, -which veiled emotions he dared not reveal in this assembly. - -"Deem you, the man who journeyed hundreds of leagues to obtain -absolution for having kissed a woman in wedlock has aught to fear from -such as you?" - -Ere Theodora could make reply the tantalizing purring voice of Roxana -struck her ear. - -"Surely this is no man--" - -"A man he is, nevertheless," Basil retorted hotly. "One night I -wandered out upon the silent Aventine. Losing myself among the ruins, -I heard voices in the abode of the Monk of Cluny. Fearing, lest some -one should attempt to harm this holy friar," he continued, with a side -glance at Theodora, "I entered unseen. I overheard his confession." - -There was profound silence. - -It seemed too monstrously absurd. Absolution for a kiss! - -Roxana spoke at last, and her veiled mockery strained her rival's -temper to the breaking point. Her words stung, as needles would the -naked flesh. - -"Then," she said with deliberate slowness, "if our fair Theodora -persist in her unholy desire, what else is there for me to do but to -take him from her just to save the poor man's soul?" - -Theodora's white hands yearned for the other woman's throat. - -"Deem you, your charms would snare the good pilgrim, should I will to -make him mine?" she flashed. - -"Why not?" Roxana purred. "Shall we try? Are you afraid?"-- - -"Of you?" Theodora shrilled. - -A strange fire burnt in Roxana's eyes. - -"Of the ordeal! Once upon a time you took from me the boy I loved. Now -I shall take from you the man you desire!" - -"I challenge you!" - -"To the death!" Roxana flashed, appraising her rival's charms against -her own. Her further utterance was checked by the sudden entrance of -one of the Africans, who prostrated himself before Theodora, muttering -some incoherent words at which both the woman and Basil gave a start. - -"Have him thrown into the street," Basil turned to Theodora. - -"Have him brought in," Theodora commanded. - -For the space of a few moments intense silence reigned throughout the -pavilion. Then the curtains at the farther end parted, admitting two -huge Africans, who carried between them the seemingly lifeless form of -a man. - -An imperious gesture of Theodora directed them to approach with their -burden, and a cry of surprise and dismay broke from her lips as she -gazed into the white, still features of Tristan. - -He was unconscious, but faintly breathing, and upon his garb were -strange stains, that looked like blood. The Africans placed their -burden on the couch from which Roxana had arisen, and Theodora summoned -the Moorish physician Bahram from the lower end of the table, where he -had indulged in a learned dispute with a Persian sage. The other guests -thronged about, curious to see and to hear. - -The Grand Chamberlain changed color when his gaze first lighted on -the prostrate form and he felt inclined to make light of the matter -hinting at the effect of Italian wines upon strangers unaccustomed -to the vintage. The ashen pallor of Tristan's cheeks had not remained -unremarked by Theodora, as she turned from the unconscious victim of a -villainy to the man beside her, whom in some way she connected with the -deed. - -Basil's comment elicited but a glance of contempt as, approaching the -couch whereon he lay, Theodora eagerly watched the Moorish physician -in his efforts to revive the unconscious man. Tristan's teeth were so -tightly set that it required the insertion of a steel bar to pry them -apart. - -Bahram poured some strong wine down the throat of the still unconscious -man, then placed him in a sitting position and continued his efforts -until, with a violent fit of coughing, Tristan opened his eyes. - -It was some time, however, until he regained his faculties sufficiently -to manifest his emotions, and the bewilderment with which his gaze -wandered from one face to the other, would have been amusing had not -the mystery which encompassed his presence inspired a feeling of awe. -The Moorish physician, upon being questioned by Theodora, stated, some -powerful poison had caused the coma which bound Tristan's limbs and -added, in another hour he would have been beyond the pale of human -aid. More than this he would not reveal and, his task accomplished, he -withdrew among the guests. - -From the Grand Chamberlain, whose stony gaze was riveted upon him, -Tristan turned to the woman who reclined by his side on the divan. His -vocal chords seemed paralyzed, but his other faculties were keenly -alive to the strangeness of his surroundings. Perceiving his inability -to reply to her questions, Theodora soothed him to silence. - -Vainly endeavoring to speak, Tristan partook but sparingly of the -refreshments which she offered to him with her own hands. She was -now deliberately endeavoring to enmesh his senses, and her exotic, -wonderful beauty could not but accomplish with him what it had -accomplished with all who came under its fatal spell. An insidious, -sensuous perfume seemed to float about her, which caused Tristan's -brain to reel. Her bare arms and wonderful hands made him dizzy. Her -eyes held his own by their strange, subtle spell. Unfathomed mysteries -seemed to lurk in their hidden depths. Without endeavoring to engage -him in conversation, much as she longed to question him on certain -points, she tried to soothe him by passing her cool white hands over -his fevered brow. And all the time she was pondering on the nature of -his infliction and the author thereof, as her gaze pensively swept the -banquet hall. - -The guests had, one by one, returned to their seats. Theodora also had -arisen, after having made Tristan comfortable on the couch assigned to -him. - -Unseen, the heavy folds of the curtain behind her parted. A face peered -for a moment into her own, that seemed to possess no human attributes. -Theodora gave a hardly perceptible nod and the face disappeared. -The Grand Chamberlain took his seat by her side and Roxana flinging -Theodora a glittering challenge seated herself beside Tristan. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE CHALICE OF OBLIVION - - -A delirium of the senses such as he had never experienced to this -hour began to steal over Tristan, as he found himself seated between -Theodora, the fairest sorceress that ever triumphed over the frail -spirit of man--and Roxana, who was whispering strange words into his -bewildered ears. - -Across the board the gloomy form of the Grand Chamberlain in his sombre -attire loomed up like a shadow of evil in a garden of strangely tinted -orchids. - -How the time passed on, he could not tell. Peals of laughter resounded -now and then through the vaulted dome and voices were raised in -clamorous disputations that just sheered off the boundary-line of -actual quarrel. - -Theodora seemed to pay but little heed to Tristan. Roxana had coiled -her white arms about him and, whenever he raised his goblet, their -hands touched and a stream of fire coursed through his veins. Only now -and then Theodora's drowsy eyes shot forth a fiery gleam from under -their heavily fringed lids. - -Roxana smiled into her rival's eyes and, raising a goblet of wine to -her lips, kissed the brim and gave it to Tristan with an indescribably -graceful swaying motion of her whole form that reminded one of a tall -white lily, bowing to the breeze. - -Tristan seized the cup eagerly, drank from it and returned it and, as -their hands touched again, he could hardly restrain himself from giving -way to a transport of passion. He was no longer himself. His brain -seemed to reel. He felt as if he would plunge into the crater of a -seething volcano without heeding the flames. - -Even Hellayne's pale image seemed forgotten for the time. - -The guests waxed more and more noisy, their merriment more and more -boisterous. Many were now very much the worse for their frequent -libations, and young Fabio particularly seemed to display a desire to -break away from all bonds of prudent reserve. - -He lay full length on his silken divan, singing little snatches of -song to himself and, pulling the vine-wreath from his tumbled locks, -as though he found it too cumbersome, he flung it on the ground amid -the other debris of the feast. Then, folding his arms lazily behind -his head, he stared straight and fixedly at Theodora, surveying every -curve of her body, every slight motion of her head, every faint -smile that played upon her lips. She was listening with an air of -ill-disguised annoyance to Basil, whose wine-inflamed countenance and -passion-distorted features left little to the surmise regarding his -state of mind. - -On the couch adjoining the one of Fabio of the Cavalli reclined a -nobleman from Gades, who, having partaken less lavishly of the wine -than the rest of the guests, was engaged in a dispute with the burly -stranger from the North, whose temper seemed to have undergone little -change for the better for his having filled his paunch. - -In the barbarous jargon of tenth century Latin they commented upon -Theodora, upon the banquet, upon the guests and upon Rome in general, -and the Spaniard expressed surprise that Marozia's sister had failed to -revenge Marozia's death, contenting herself to spend her life in the -desert wastes of Aventine, among hermits, libertines and fools. - -Notwithstanding his besotten mood Fabio had heard and understood every -word the stranger uttered. Before he, to whom his words was addressed -could make reply, he shouted insolently: - -"Ask Theodora why she is content to live in her enchanted groves -instead in the Emperor's Tomb, haunted by the spectre of strangled -Marozia!" - -A terrible silence followed this utterance. The eyes of all present -wandered towards the speaker. The Grand Chamberlain ground his teeth. -Every vestige of color had faded from his face. - -"Are you afraid?" shouted Fabio, raising himself upon his elbows and -nodding towards Theodora. - -The woman turned her splendid, flashing orbs slowly upon him. A chill, -steely glitter leaped from their velvety depths. - -"Pray, Fabio, be heedful of your speech," said she with a quiver in her -voice, curiously like the suppressed snarl of a tigress. "Most men are -fools, like yourself, and by their utterance shall they be judged!" - -Fabio broke out into boisterous mirth. - -"And Theodora rules with a rod of iron. Even the Lord Basil is but a -toy in her hands! Behold him,--yonder." - -Basil had arisen, his hand on the hilt of his poniard. Theodora laid -her white hand upon his arm. - -"Nay--" she said sweetly, "this is a matter for myself to settle." - -"A very anchorite," the mocking voice of Fabio rose above the silence. - -A young noble of the Cætani tried to quiet him, but in vain: - -"The Lord Basil is no monk." - -"Wherefore then his midnight meditations in the devil's own chapel -yonder, in which our fair Theodora officiates as Priestess of Love?" - -"Midnight meditations?" interposed the Spaniard, not knowing that he -was treading on dangerous ground. - -"Ask Theodora," shouted Fabio, "how many lovers are worshipping at her -midnight shrine!" - -The silence of utter consternation prevailed. Glances of absolute -dismay went round the table, and the stillness was as ominous as the -hush before a thunderclap. Fabio, apparently struck by the sudden -silence, gazed lazily from out the tumbled cushions, a vacant, besotten -smile upon his lips. - -"What fools you are!" he shouted thickly. "Did you not hear me? I -bade you ask Theodora," and suddenly he sat bolt upright, his face -crimsoning as with an access of passion, "why the Lord Basil creeps in -and out her palace at midnight like a skulking slave? Ask him why he -creeps in disguise through the underground passage. Ay--stranger," he -shouted to Tristan, "you are near enough to our lady of Witcheries. Ask -her how many lovers have tasted of the chalice of oblivion?" - -Another death-like silence ensued. - -Even the attendants seemed to move with awed tread among the guests. - -Theodora and Roxana had risen almost at the same time, facing each -other in a white silence. - -Roxana extended her snow-white arms towards Theodora. - -"Why do you not reply to your discarded lover?" she taunted her rival. -"Shall I reply for him? You have challenged me, and I return your -challenge! I am your match in all things, Lady Theodora. In my veins -flows the blood of kings--in yours the blood of courtesans. There is -not room on earth for both of us. Does not your coward soul quail -before the issue?" - -Theodora turned to Roxana a face, white as marble, her eyes -preternaturally brilliant. "You shall have your wish--even to the -death. But--before the dark-winged messenger enfolds you with his sable -wings you shall know Theodora as you have never known her--nor ever -shall again." - -From the woman Theodora turned to the man. - -"Fabio," she said in her sweet mock-caressing tone, "I fear you have -grown altogether too wise for this world. It were a pity you should -linger in so narrow and circumscribed a sphere." - -She paused and beckoned to a giant Nubian who stood behind her chair. - -"Refill the goblets!" - -Her behest executed she clinked goblets with Roxana. An undying hate -shone in the eyes of the two women as they raised the crystal goblets -to their lips. - -Theodora hardly tasted of the purple beverage. Roxana eagerly drained -her cup, then she kissed the brim and offered the fragrant goblet to -Tristan, as her eyes challenged Theodora anew. - -Ere he could raise it to his lips, Theodora dashed the goblet from -Tristan's hands and the purple wine dyed the orange colored carpet like -dark stains of blood. - -White as lightning, her eyes ablaze with hidden fires, her white hands -clenched, Roxana straightened herself to her full height, ready to -bound at Theodora's throat, to avenge the insult and to settle now and -here, woman to woman, the question of supremacy between them, when she -reeled as if struck by a thunderbolt. Her hands went to her heart and -without a moan she fell, a lifeless heap, upon the floor. - -Ere Tristan and the other guests could recover from their -consternation, or fathom the import of the terrible scene, a savage -scream from the couch upon which Fabio reclined, turned the attention -of every one in that direction. - -Fabio, suddenly sobered, had risen from his couch and drained his -goblet. It rolled upon the carpet from his nerveless grasp. For a -moment his arms wildly beat the air, then he reeled and fell prone upon -the floor. His staring eyes and his face, livid with purple spots, -proclaimed him dead, even ere the Moorish physician could come to his -aid. - -Theodora clapped her hands, and at the signal four giant Nubians -appeared and, taking up the lifeless bodies, disappeared with them in -the moonlit garden outside. - -The Grand Chamberlain, rising from his seat, informed the guests that -a sudden ailment had befallen the woman and the man. They were being -removed to receive care and attention. - -Though a lingering doubt hovered in the minds of those who had -witnessed the scene, some kept silent through fear, others whose brains -were befuddled by the fumes of the wine gave utterance to inarticulate -sounds, from which the view they took of the matter, was not entirely -clear. - -The shock had restored to Tristan the lost faculty of speech. For a -moment he stared horrified at Theodora. Her impassive calm roused in -him a feeling of madness. With an imprecation upon his lips he rushed -upon her, his gleaming dagger raised aloft. - -But ere he could carry out his intent, Theodora's clear, cold voice -smote the silence. - -"Disarm him!" - -One of the Africans had glided stealthily to his side, and the steel -was wrenched from Tristan's grip. - -"Be silent,--for your life!" some one whispered into his ear. - -Suddenly he grew weak. Theodora's languid eyes met his own, utterly -paralyzing his efforts. A smile parted her lips as, without a trace of -anger, she kissed the ivory bud of a magnolia and threw it to him. - -As one in a trance he caught the flower. Its fragrance seemed to creep -into his brain, rob his manhood of its strength. Sinking submissively -into his seat he gazed up at her in wondering wistfulness. Was there -ever woman so bewilderingly beautiful? A strange enervating ecstasy -took him captive, as he permitted his eyes to dwell on the fairness -of her face, the ivory pallor of her skin, the supple curves of her -form. As one imprisoned in a jungle exhaling poison miasmas loses all -control over his faculties, feeling a drowsy lassitude stealing over -him, so Tristan gave himself up to the spell that encompassed him, -heedless of the memories of the past. - -Now Theodora touched a small bell and suddenly the marble floor yawned -asunder and the banquet table with all its accessories vanished -underground with incredible swiftness. Then the floor closed again. The -broad centre space of the hall was now clear of obstruction and the -guests roused themselves from their drowsy postures of half-inebriated -languor. - -Tristan drank in the scene with eager, dazzled eyes and heavily beating -heart. Love and hate strangely mingled stole over him more strongly -than ever, in the sultry air of this strange summer night, this night -of sweet delirium in which all that was most dangerous and erring in -his nature waked into his life and mastered his better will. - -Outside the water lilies nodded themselves to sleep among their -shrouding leaves. Like a sheet of molten gold spread the lake over the -spot where Roxana and Fabio had found a common grave. - -Surrounding this lake spread a garden, golden with the sleepy radiance -of the late moon, and peacefully fair in the dreaminess of drooping -foliage, moss-covered turf and star-sprinkled violet sky. In full -view, and lighted by the reflected radiance flung out from within, a -miniature waterfall tumbled headlong into a rocky recess, covered and -overgrown with lotus-lilies and plumy ferns. Here and there golden -tents glimmered through the shadows cast by the great magnolia trees, -whose half-shut buds wafted balmy odors through the drowsy summer -night. The sounds of flutes, of citherns and cymbals floated from -distant bosquets, as though elfin shepherds were guarding their fairy -flocks in some hidden nook. By degrees the light grew warmer and more -mellow in tint till it resembled the deep hues of an autumn sunset, -flecked through the emerald haze, in the sunken gardens of Theodora. - -Another clash of cymbals, stormily persistent, then the chimes of -bells, such as bring tears to the eyes of many a wayfarer, who hears -the silvery echoes when far away from home and straightway thinks of -his childhood days, those years of purest happiness. - -A curious, stifling sensation began to oppress Tristan as he listened -to those bells. They reminded him of strange things, things to which he -could not give a name, odd suggestions of fair women who were wont to -pray for those they loved, and who believed that their prayers would be -heard in heaven and would be granted! - -With straining eyes he gazed out into the languorous beauty of the -garden that spread its emerald glamour around him, and a sob broke from -his lips as the peals of the chiming bells, softened by degrees into -subdued and tremulous semitones, the clarion clearness of the cymbals -again smote the silent air. - -Ere Tristan, in his state of bewilderment, could realize what was -happening, the great fire globe in the dome was suddenly extinguished -and a firm hand imperiously closed on his own, drawing him along, he -knew not whither. - -He glanced about him. In the semi-darkness he was able to discern -the sheen of the lake with its white burden of water lilies, and the -dim, branch-shadowed outlines of the moonlit garden. Theodora walked -beside him, Theodora, whose lovely face was so perilously near his -own, Theodora, upon whose lips hovered a smile of unutterable meaning. -His heart beat faster; he strove in vain to imagine what fate was in -store for him. He drank in the beauty of the night that spread her -star-embroidered splendors about him, he was conscious of the vital -youth and passion that throbbed in his veins, endowing him with a keen -headstrong rapture which is said to come but once in a lifetime, and -which in the excess of its folly will bring endless remorse in its -wake. - -Suddenly he found himself in an exquisitely adorned pavilion of painted -silk, lighted by a lamp of tenderest rose lustre and carpeted with -softest amber colored pile. It stood apart from the rest, concealed -as it were in a grove of its own, and surrounded by a thicket of -orange-trees in full bloom. The fragrance of the white waxen flowers -hung heavily upon the air, breathing forth delicate suggestions of -languor and sleep. The measured cadence of the waterfall alone broke -the deep stillness, and now and then the subdued and plaintive thrill -of a nightingale, soothing itself to sleep with its own song in some -deep-shadowed copse. - -Here, on a couch, such as might have been prepared for Titania, -Theodora seated herself, while Tristan stood gazing at her in a sort -of mad, fascinated wonderment, and gradually increasing intensity of -passion. - -The alluring smile and the quick brightening of the eyes, so rare a -thing with him who, since he had left Avalon, was used to wear so calm -and subdued a mask, changed his aspect in an extraordinary manner. In -an instant he seemed more alive, more intensely living, pulsing with -the joy of the hour. He felt as if he must let the natural youth in his -veins run riot, as Theodora's beauty and the magic of the night began -to sting his blood. - -Theodora's eyes danced to his. She had marked the symptoms and knew. -Her eyes had lost their mocking glitter and swam in a soft languor, -that was strangely bewitching. Her lips parted in a faint sigh and a -glance like are shot from beneath her black silken lashes. - -"Tristan!" she murmured tremulously and waited. Then again: "Tristan!" - -He knelt before her, passion sweeping over him like a hurricane, and -took her unresisting hands in his. - -"Theodora!" he said, bending over her, and his voice, even to his own -ears had a strange sound, as if some one else were speaking. "Theodora! -What would you have of me? Speak! For my heart aches with a burden of -dark memories conjured up by the wizard spell of your eyes!" - -She gently drew him down beside her on the couch. - -"Foolish dreamer!" she murmured, half mockingly, half tenderly. "Are -love and passion so strange a thing that you wonder--as you sit here -beside me?" - -"Love!" he said. "Is it love indeed?" - -He uttered the words as if he spoke to himself, in a hushed, awe-struck -tone. But she had heard, and a flash of triumph brightened her -beautiful face. - -"Ah!" and she dropped her head lower and lower, till the dark perfumed -tresses touched his brow. "Then you do love me?" - -He started. A dull pang struck his heart, a chill of vague uncertainty -and dread. He longed to take her in his arms, forget the past, the -present, the future, life and all it held. But suddenly a vague -thought oppressed him. There was the sense that he was dishonoring -that other love. However unholy it had been, it was yet for him a real -and passionate reality of his past life, and he shrank in shame from -suppressing it. Would it not have been far nobler to have fought it -down as the pilgrim he had meant to be than to drown its memory in a -delirium of the senses? - -And--was this love indeed for the woman by his side? Was it not mere -passion and base desire? - -As he remained silent the silken voice of the fairest woman he had ever -seen once more sent its thrill through his bewildered brain in the -fateful question: - -"Do you love me, Tristan?" - -Softly, insidiously, she entwined him with her wonderful white arms. -Her perfumed breath fanned his cheeks; her dark tresses touched his -brow. Her lips were thirstily ajar. - -He put his arms about her. Hungrily, passionately, his gaze wandered -over her matchless form, from the small feet, encased in golden -sandals, to the crowning masses of her dusky hair. His heart beat with -loud, impatient thuds, like some wild thing struggling in its cage, but -though his lips moved, no utterance came. - -Her arms tightened about him. - -"You are of the North," she said, "though you have hotter blood in -your veins. Now under our yellow sun, and in our hot nights, when the -moon hangs like an alabaster lamp in the sky, a beaten shield of gold -trembling over our dreams--forget the ice in your blood. Gather the -roses while you may! A time will come when their soft petals will have -lost their fragrance! I love you--be mine!" - -And, bending towards him, she kissed him with moist, hungry lips. - -He fevered in her embrace. He kissed her eyes--her hair--her lips--and -a strange dizziness stole over him, a delirium in which he was no -longer master of himself. - -"Can you not be happy, Tristan?" she whispered gently. "Happy as other -men when loved as I love you!" - -With a cold sinking of the heart he looked into the woman's perfect -face. His upturned gaze rested on the glittering serpent heads that -crowned the dusky hair, and the words of Fabio of the Cavalli knocked -on the gates of his memory. - -"Happy as other men when they love--and are deceived," he said, unable -to free himself of her entwining arms. - -"You shall not be deceived," she returned quickly. "You shall -attain that which your heart desires. Your dearest hope shall be -fulfilled,--all shall be yours--all--if you will be mine--to-night." - -Tristan met her burning gaze, and as he did so the strange dread -increased. - -"What of the Grand Chamberlain?" he queried. "What of Basil, your -lover?" - -Her answer came swift and fierce, as the hiss of a snake. - -"He shall die--even as Roxana--even as Fabio, he who boasted of my -love! You shall be lord of Rome--and I--your wife--" - -Her words leaped into his brain with the swift, fiery action of a -burning drug. A red mist swam before his eyes. - -"Love!" he cried, as one seized with sudden delirium. "What have I to -do with love--what have you, Theodora, who make the lives of men your -sport, and their torments your mockery? I know no name for the fever -that consumes me, when I look upon you--no name for the ravishment that -draws me to you in mingled bliss and agony. I would perish, Theodora. -Kill me, and I shall pray for you! But love--love--it recalls to my -soul a glory I have lost. There can be no love between you and me!" - -He spoke wildly, incoherently, scarcely knowing what he said. The -woman's arms had fallen from him. He staggered to his feet. - -A low laugh broke from her lips, which curved in an evil smile. - -"Poor fool!" she said in her low, musical tones, "to cast away that for -which hundreds would give their last life's blood. Madman! First to -desire, then to spurn. Go! And beware!" - -She stood before him in all her white glory and loveliness, one white -arm stretched forth, her bosom heaving, her eyes aflame. And Tristan, -seized with a sudden fear, fled from the pavilion, down the moonlit -path as if pursued by an army of demons. - -A man stepped from a thicket of roses, directly into his path. Heedless -of everything, of every one, Tristan endeavored to pass him, but the -other was equally determined to bar his way. - -"So I have found you at last," said the voice, and Tristan, starting -as if the ground had opened before him, stared into the face of the -stranger at Theodora's board. - -"You have found me, my Lord Roger," he said, after recovering from his -first surprise. "Here I may injure no one--you, my lord, least of all! -Leave me in peace!" - -The stranger gave a sardonic laugh. - -"That I may perchance, when you have told me the truth--the whole -truth!" - -"Ask, my lord, and I will answer," Tristan replied. - -"Where is the Lady Hellayne?"-- - -The questioning voice growled like far off thunder. - -Tristan recoiled a step, staring into the questioner's face as if he -thought he had gone mad. - -"The Lady Hellayne?" he stammered, white to the lips and with a dull -sinking of the heart. "How am I to know? I have not seen her since I -left Avalon--months ago. Is she not with you?" - -The Lord Laval's brow was dark as a thunder cloud. - -"If she were with me--would I be wasting my time asking you concerning -her?" he barked. - -"Where is she, then?" Tristan gasped. - -"That you shall tell me--or I have forgotten the use of this knife!" - -And he laid his hand on the hilt of a long dagger that protruded from -his belt. - -Tristan's eyes met those of the other. - -"My lord, this is unworthy of you! I have never committed a deed I -dared not confess--and I despise your threat and your accusation as -would the Lady Hellayne, were she here." - -Steps were heard approaching from the direction of the pavilion. - -"I am a stranger in Rome. Doubtless you are familiar with its ways. -Some one is coming. Where shall we meet?" - -Tristan pondered. - -"At the Arch of the Seven Candles. Every child can point the way. When -shall it be?" - -"To-morrow,--at the second hour of the night. And take care to speak -the truth!" - -Ere Tristan could reply the speaker had vanished among the thickets. - -For a moment he paused, amazed, bewildered. Roger de Laval in Rome! And -Hellayne--where was she? She had left Avalon--had left her consort. Had -she entered a convent? Hellayne--where was Hellayne? - -Before this dreadful uncertainty all the events of the night vanished -as if they had never been. - -For a long time Tristan remained where Roger de Laval had left him. -The cool air from the lake blew refreshingly on his heated brow. A -thousand odors from orange and jessamine floated caressingly about -him. The night was very still. There, in the soft sky-gloom, moved the -majestic procession of undiscovered worlds. There, low on the horizon, -the yellow moon swooned languidly down in a bed of fleecy clouds. The -drowsy chirp of a dreaming bird came softly now and again from branch -shadowed thickets, and the lilies on the surface of the lake nodded -mysteriously to each other, as if they were whispering a secret of -another world. - -At last the moon sank out of sight and from afar, softened by the -distance, the chimes of convent bells from the remote regions of the -Aventine were wafted through the flower scented summer night. - -END OF BOOK THE SECOND - - - - -BOOK THE THIRD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -WOLFSBANE - - -The early summer dawn was creeping over the silent Campagna when -Tristan reached the Inn of The Golden Shield. - -As one dazed he had traversed the deserted, echoing streets in the -mysterious half-light which flooded the Eternal City; a light in which -everything was sharply defined yet seemed oddly spectral and ghostlike. - -Deep down in his heart two emotions were contending, appalling in their -intensity and appeal. One was an agonized fear for the woman he loved -with a love so unwavering that his love was actually himself, his whole -being, the sacrament that consecrated his life and ruled his destiny. - -She had left Avalon; she had left him to whom she had plighted her -troth. Where was she and why was Roger de Laval in Rome? - -An icy fear gripped his heart at the thought; a nameless dread and -horror of the terrible scene he had witnessed at the midnight feast of -Theodora. - -For a time he was as one obsessed, hardly master of himself and his -actions. In an age where scenes such as those he had witnessed were -quickly forgotten the death of Roxana and young Fabio created but -little stir. Rome, just emerging from under the dark cloud of Marozia's -regime, in the throes of ever-recurring convulsions, without a helmsman -to guide the tottering ship of state, received the grim tidings with a -shrug of apathy; and the cowed burghers discussed in awed whispers the -dread power of one whose vengeance none dared to brave. - -Tristan's unsophisticated mind could not so easily forget. He had -stood at the brink of the abyss, he had looked down into the murky -depths from which there was no escape once the fumes had conquered the -senses and vanquished resistance. With a shudder he called to mind, -how utterly and completely he had abandoned himself to the lure of the -sorceress, how little short of a miracle had saved him. She had led him -on step by step, and the struggle had but begun. - -No one was astir at the inn. - -He ascended the stairs leading to his chamber. The chill of the night -was still lingering in the dusky passages. He lighted the taper of a -tiny lamp that burnt before an image of the Mother of Sorrows in a -niche. - -Then he sank upon his couch. His vitality seemed to be ebbing and his -mind clouding before the problems that began to crowd in upon him. - -Nothing since he left Avalon, nothing external or merely human, had -stirred him as had his meeting with Theodora. It had roused in him -a dormant, embryonic faculty, active and vivid. What it called into -his senses was not a mere series of pictures. It created a visual -representation of the horrified creature, roused from the flattering -oblivion of death to memory and shame and dread, nothing really -forgotten, nothing past, the old lie that death ends all pitifully -unmasked. - -He shuddered as he thought of the consequences of surrender from which -a silent voice out of the far off past had saved him--just in time. - -His life lay open before him as a book, every fact recorded, nothing -extenuated. - -A calm, relentless voice bade him search his own life, if he had done -aught amiss. He had never taken or desired that which was another's. -Yet his years had been a ceaseless perturbation. There had been endless -and desperate clutchings at bliss, followed by the swift discovery that -the exquisite light had faded, leaving a chill gloaming that threatened -a lonely night. And if the day had failed in its promise what would the -night do? - -His soul cried out for rest, for peace from the enemy; peace, not this -endless striving. He was terrified. In the ignominious lament there -was desertion, as if he were too small for the fight. He was demanding -happiness, and that his own burden should rest on another's shoulders. -How silent was the universe around him! He stood in tremendous, eternal -isolation. - -Pale and colorless as a moonstone at first the ghostly dawn had -quickened to the iridescence of the opal, flaming into a glory of gold -and purple in the awakening east. - -And now the wall in the courtyard was no longer grey. A faint, clear, -golden light was beginning to flow and filter into it, dispelling, one -by one, the dark shadows that lurked in the corners. Somewhere in the -distance the dreamer heard the shrill silver of a lark, and a dull -monotonous sound, felt rather than heard, suggested that sleeping Rome -was about to wake. - -And then came the sun. A long golden ray stabbed the mists and leaped -into his chamber like a living thing. The little sanctuary lamp before -the image of the Blessed Virgin glowed no more. - -After a brief rest Tristan arose, noting for the first time with a -degree of chagrin that his dagger had not been restored to him. - -It was day now. The sun was high and hot. The streets and thoroughfares -were thronged. A bright, fierce light beat down upon dome and spire -and pinnacle, flooding the august ruins of the Cæsars and the thousand -temples of the Holy Cross with brilliant radiance from the cloudless -azure of the heavens. Over the Tiber white wisps of mist were rising. -Beyond, the massive bulk of the Emperor's Tomb was revealed above the -roofs of the houses, and the olive groves of Mount Janiculum glistened -silvery in the rays of the morning sun. - -It was only when, refreshed after a brief rest and frugal refreshments, -Tristan quitted the inn, taking the direction of Castel San Angelo, -that the incidents leading up to his arrival at the feast of Theodora -slowly filtered through his mind. - -Withal there was a link missing in the chain of events. From the time -he had left the Lateran in pursuit of the two strangers everything -seemed an utter blank. What mysterious forces had been at work -conveying him to his destiny, he could not even fathom and, in a state -of perplexity, such as he had rarely experienced, he pursued his way, -paying little heed to the life and turmoil that seethed around him. - -Upon entering Castel San Angelo he was informed that the Grand -Chamberlain had arrived but a few moments before and he immediately -sought the presence of the man whose sinister countenance held out -little promise of the solution of the mystery. - -In an octagon chamber, the small windows of which, resembling -port-holes, looked out upon the Campagna, Basil was fretfully -perambulating as Tristan entered. - -After a greeting which was frosty enough on both sides, Tristan briefly -stated the matter which weighed upon his mind. - -The Grand Chamberlain watched him narrowly, nodding now and then by -way of affirmation, as Tristan related the experience at the Lateran, -referring especially to two mysterious strangers whom he had followed -to a distant part of the city, believing they might offer some clue to -the outrage committed at the Lateran on the previous night. - -Basil regarded the new captain with a mixture of curiosity and gloom. -Perchance he was as much concerned in discovering what Tristan knew -as the latter was in finding a solution of the two-fold mystery. -After having questioned him on his experience, without offering any -suggestion that might clear up his visitor's mind, Basil touched upon -the precarious state of the city and its hidden dangers. - -Tristan listened attentively to the sombre account, little guessing its -purpose. - -"Much have I heard of the prevailing lawless state," he interposed at -last, "of dark deeds hidden in the silent bosom of the night, of feud -and rebellion against the Church which is powerless to defend herself -for the want of a master-hand that would evoke order out of chaos." - -The dark-robed figure by his side gave a grim nod. - -"Men are closely allied to beasts, giving rein to their desires and -appetites as the tigers and hyenas. It is only fear that will restrain -them, fear of some despotic invisible force that pervades the universe, -whose chiefest attribute is not so much creative as destructive. It is -only through fear you can rule the filthy rabble that reviles to-day -its idol of yesterday." - -There was an undercurrent of scorn in Basil's voice and Tristan saw, -as it were, the lightning of an angry or disdainful thought flashing -through the sombre depths of his eyes. - -"What of the Lady Theodora?" Tristan interposed bluntly. - -Basil gave a nameless shrug. - -"She bends men's hearts to her own desires, taking from them their -will and soul. The hot passion of love is to her a toy, clasped and -unclasped in the pink hollow of her hand." - -And, as he spoke, Basil suited the gesture to the word, closing his -fingers in the air and again unclosing them. - -"As long as she retains the magic of her beauty so long will her sway -over the Seven Hills endure," he added after a brief pause. - -"What of the woman who paid the penalty of her daring?" Tristan -ventured to inquire. - -Basil regarded the questioner quizzically. - -"There have been many disturbances of late," he spoke after a pause. -"Roxana's lust for Theodora's power proved her undoing. Theodora will -suffer no rival to threaten her with Marozia's fate." - -"I have heard it whispered she is assembling about her men who are -ready to go to any extreme," Tristan interposed tentatively, thrown off -his guard by Basil's affability of manner. - -The latter gave a start, but recovered himself. - -"Idle rumors. The Romans must have something to talk about. Odo of -Cluny is thundering his denunciations with such fervid eloquence that -they cannot but linger in the rabble's mind." - -"The hermit of Mount Aventine?" Tristan queried. - -"Even he! He has a strange craze, a doctrine of the End of Time, to -be accomplished when the cycle of the sæculum has run its course. A -doctrine he most furiously proclaims in language seemingly inspired, -and which he promulgates to farther his own dark ends." - -"A theory most dark and strange," Tristan replied with a shudder, for -he was far from free of the superstition of the times. - -Basil gave a shrug. His tone was lurid. - -"What shall it matter to us, who shall hardly tread this earth when the -fateful moment comes?" - -"If it were true nevertheless?" Tristan replied meditatively. - -A sombre fire burnt in the eyes of the Grand Chamberlain. - -"Then, indeed, should we not pluck the flowers in our path, defying -darkness and death and the fiery chariot of the All-destroyer that is -to sweep us to our doom?" - -Tristan shuddered. - -Some such words he had indeed heard among the pilgrim throngs without -clearly grasping their import. They had haunted his memory and had, -for the time at least, laid a restraining hand upon his impulses. - -But the mystery of the Monk of Cluny weighed lightly against the -mystery of the woman who held in the hollow of her hand the destinies -of Rome. - -Basil seemed to read Tristan's thoughts. - -Reclining in his chair, he eyed him narrowly. - -"You, too, but narrowly escaped the blandishments of the Sorceress, -blandishments to which many another would have succumbed. I marvel at -your self-restraint, not being bound by any vow." - -The speaker paused and waited, his eyes lying in ambush under the dark -straight brows. - -The memory still oppressed Tristan and the mood did not escape Basil, -who stored it up for future reckoning. - -"Perchance I, too, might have succumbed to the Lady Theodora's beauty, -had not something interposed at the crucial moment." - -"The memory of some earlier love, perchance?" Basil queried with a -smile. - -Tristan gave a sigh. He thought of Hellayne and the impending meeting -with Roger de Laval. - -His questioner abandoned the subject. Master in dissimulation he had -read the truth on Tristan's brow. - -"Pray then to your guardian saint, if of such a one you boast," he -continued after a pause, "to intervene, should temptation in its most -alluring form face you again," he said with deliberate slowness. "You -witnessed the end of Fabio of the Cavalli?"-- - -Tristan shuddered. - -"And yet there was a time when he called all these charms his own, and -his command was obeyed in Theodora's gilded halls." - -"Can love so utterly vanish?" Tristan queried with an incredulous -glance at the speaker. - -Basil gave a soundless laugh. - -"Love!" he said. "Hearts are but pawns in Theodora's hands. Her -ambition is to rule, and he who can give to her what her heart desires -is the favorite of the hour. Beware of her! Once the poison of her -kisses rankles in your blood nothing can save you from your doom." - -Basil watched the effect of his words upon his listener and for the -nonce he seemed content. Tristan would take heed. - -When Tristan had taken his leave a panel in the wall opened noiselessly -and Il Gobbo peered into the chamber. - -Basil locked and bolted the door which led into the corridor, and the -sinister, bat-like form stepped out of its dark frame and approached -the inmate of the chamber with a fawning gesture. - -"If your lordship will believe me," he said in a husky undertone, "I am -at last on the trail." - -"What now?" - -"I may not tell your nobility as yet." - -"Do you want another bezant, dog?" - -"It is not that, my lord." - -"Then, who does he consort with?" - -"I have tracked him as a panther tracks its prey--he consorts with no -one." - -"Then continue to follow him and see if he consorts with any--woman." - -"A woman?" - -"Why not, fool?" - -"But had your nobility said there was a woman--" - -"There always is." - -"Your nobility let him go--and yet--one word--" - -"I must know more, before I strike. I knew he would come. There is more -to this than we wot of. Theodora is infatuated with his austerity. He -has jilted her and she smarts under the blow. She will move heaven and -earth to bring him to her feet. Meanwhile there are weightier matters -to be considered. Perchance I shall pay you an early call in your noble -abode. Prepare fitly and bid the ghosts troop from their haunted caves. -And now be off! Your quarry has the start!" - -Il Gobbo bowed grotesquely and receded backward towards the panel which -closed soundlessly behind him. - -Basil remained alone in the octagon cabinet. - -He strode slowly towards one of the windows that faced to southward and -gazed long and pensively out upon the undulating expanse of the Roman -Campagna. - -"Three messengers, yet none has returned," he muttered darkly. "Can it -be that I have lost my clutch on destiny?" - - - - -CHAPTER II - -UNDER THE SAFFRON SCARF - - -Once again the pale planets of night ruled the sky, when Tristan -emerged from his inn and took the direction of the Palatine. - -All memories of his meeting with the Lord Basil had faded before the -import of the coming hour, when he was to stand face to face with him -who held in his hand the fate of two beings destined for each other -from the beginning of time and torn asunder by the ruthless hand of -Fate. - -There was not a sound, save the echo of his own footsteps, as Tristan -wound his way through the narrow streets, high cliffs of ancient houses -on either side, down which the white disk of the moon penetrated but a -yard or two. - -At the foot of the Palatine Hill, cutting into the moonlight, the -Colosseum rose before him, gaunt, vast, sinister, a silhouette of -enormous blackness, pierced as with innumerable empty eyes flooded -by greenish, ghostly moonlight. Necromancers and folk practising the -occult arts dwelled in ancient houses built with the honey-colored -Travertine, stolen from the Hill of the Cæsars. It was said that -strange sounds echoed from the arena at night; that the voices of those -who had died for the faith in the olden days could be heard screaming -in agony at certain periods of the moon. - -Gigantic masses of gaunt masonry rose around him as, with fleet steps, -he traversed the deserted thoroughfares. In the greenish moonlight he -could discern the tumbled ruins of arches and temples scattered about -the dark waste. His gaze also encountered the frowning masonry of more -recent buildings. The castellated palace of one of the Frescobaldi had -been reared right across that ancient site, including in its massive -bulk more than one monument of imperial days. - -As he approached the region of the Arch of the Seven Candles, as the -Arch of Titus with its carving of the Jewish Candelabrum borne in -triumph was then called, Tristan walked more warily. - -The reputed dangers of the Campo Vaccino knocking at the gates of his -memory, he loosened the sword in his scabbard. - -He had, by this time, arrived at the end of the street, that curves -towards the Arch of Titus, which commands the avenue of lone holm-oaks, -leading towards the Appian Way. - -Suddenly a man emerged from the shadows. He was armed with sword and -buckler, his body was covered with hauberk of mail and he wore the -conical steel casque in vogue since Norman arms served as the military -model. - -Roger and Tristan confronted each other, the former's face tense, -drawn, white; the latter with calm eyes in which there was the light -of a great regret. An expression not easy to read lay in Laval's eyes, -eyes that scanned Tristan from under half-shut lids. - -"So you have come?" the stranger said brutally, after a brief and -painful pause. - -"I have never broken my word," Tristan replied. - -"Well spoken! I shall be plain and brief, if you will own the truth." - -"I have nothing to conceal, my lord." - -Roger's eyes gleamed with yet livelier malice. - -"Where is the Lady Hellayne? Where is my wife?" - -"As God lives, I know not. Yet--I would give my life, to know." - -"Indeed! You may be given that chance. You are frank at least--" - -"I may have wronged you in heart, my lord,--but never in deed--" -Tristan replied. - -"What I have seen, I have seen," the other snarled viciously. -"Perchance this silent devotion accounts also for many other things." - -"I do not understand, my lord." - -"Soon after your flight the Lady Hellayne departed, without a word." - -"So you were pleased to inform me." - -"I was not pleased," spat out Laval. "How do you explain her flight?" - -"I do not explain, my lord. I have not seen or heard from the Lady -Hellayne since I left Avalon." - -"Then you still aver the lie?" - -Tristan raised himself to his full height. - -"I am speaking truth, my lord. Why, indeed, should she have left you -without even a word?" - -Roger eyed the man before him as a cat eyes a captured bird at a foot's -distance of mock freedom. - -"Why, indeed, save for love of you?" - -Tristan raised his hands. - -"Deep in my heart and soul I worship the Lady Hellayne," he said. "For -me she had but friendship. Else were I not here!" - -"A sainted pilgrim," sneered the Count, "in the Groves of Enchantment. -And for such a one she left her liege lord." - -His mocking laughter resounded through the ruins. - -"You wrong the Lady Hellayne and myself. Of myself I will not speak. As -concerns her--" - -"Of her you shall not speak! Save to tell me her abode." - -"Of her I shall speak," Tristan flashed. "You are insulting your -wife--" - -"Take care lest worse befall yourself," snarled Laval, advancing -towards the object of his wrath. - -Tristan's look of contempt cut him to the quick. - -"You think to bully me as you bully your menials," he said quietly. "I -do not fear you!" - -"Why, then, did you leave Avalon, if it was not fear that drove you?" -drawled Laval, his eyes a mere slit in the face, drawn and white. - -The utter baseness and conceit in the speaker's nature were so plainly -revealed in his utterance that Tristan replied contemptuously: - -"It was not fear of you, my lord, but the Lady Hellayne's expressed -desire that brought me to Rome." - -"The Lady Hellayne's desire? Then it was she who feared for you?" - -"It was not fear for my body, but my soul." - -"Your soul? Why your soul?" - -"Because my love for her was a wrong to you, my lord,--even though I -loved her but in thought."-- - -"On that night in the garden--you embraced in thought?" - -The leer had deepened on the speaker's face. - -"A resistless something impelled--" - -"And you a fair and pleasant-featured youth, beside Roger de Laval--her -husband. And now you are here doing penance at the shrines, at the Lady -Theodora's shrine?" - -"What I am doing in Rome does not concern you, my lord," Tristan -interposed firmly. "I did not attend the Lady Theodora's feast of my -own choice--" - -"Nor were you in her pavilion of your own choice. Yet a pinch more of -penance will set that right also." - -"I take it, my lord, that I have satisfied your anxiety," Tristan -replied, as he started to pass the other. - -Laval caught him roughly by the shoulder. - -"Not so fast," he cried. "I shall inform you when I have done with -you--" - -Tristan's face was white, as he peered into the mask of cunning that -leered from the other's countenance. Perchance he would not have heeded -the threat had it not been for his anxiety on Hellayne's account. He -suspected that Laval knew more than he cared to tell. - -"For the last time I ask, where is the Lady Hellayne?" - -The Count's form rose towering above him, as he threw the words in -Tristan's face. - -"For the last time I tell you, my lord, I know not," Tristan replied, -eye in eye. "Though I would gladly give my life to know." - -"Perchance you may. I have been told the Lady Hellayne is here in -Rome. Wherefore is she here? Can it be the spirit that prompted the -pilgrimage to her lost lover? Will you take oath, that you have not -seen her?" - -The speaker's eyes blazed ominously. - -Tristan raised his head. - -"I will, my lord, upon the Cross!" - -Roger's heavy hand smote his cheek. - -"Liar!"-- - -A woman who at that moment crept in the shadows of the Arch of Titus -saw Tristan, sword in hand, defending himself against a man apparently -much more powerful than himself. For a moment or two she gazed, -bewildered, not knowing what to do. Tristan at first seemed to stand -entirely on the defensive, but soon his blood grew hot and, in answer -to his adversary's lunge, he lunged again. But the other held a dagger -in his left hand and with it easily parried the blade. The next pass -she saw Tristan reel. She could bear no more and rushed screaming -towards some footmen with torches who were standing outside a dark and -heavily shuttered building. - -Tristan and Roger de Laval rushed at each other with redoubled fury. -Both had heard the cry and their blows rang out with echoing clatter, -filling the desolate spaces with a sound not seldom heard there in -those days. It was a struggle of sheer strength, in which the odds were -all against Tristan. He began to yield step by step. Soon a yet fiercer -blow of his antagonist must bring him down to his knees, and he fell -back farther, as a veritable rain of blows fell upon him. - -Four men followed by a woman rushed to the scene. - -"Haste! Haste!" she cried frantically. "There is murder abroad!" - -She fancied she should behold the younger man already vanquished by his -more vigorous enemy. On the contrary, he seemed to have regained his -strength and was now pressing the other with an agility and vigor that -outweighed the strength of maturity on the part of his adversary. - -All was clear in the bright moonlight, as if the sun had been blazing -down upon them, and, as the woman leaped forward, she beheld Tristan's -assailant gain some advantage. He was pressed back along the Arch -towards the spot where she stood. - -What now followed she could not see. It was all the work of a moment. -But the next instant she saw the elder man raise his arm as if to -strike with his dagger. Tristan staggered and fell, and the other -was about to strike him through when, with a wild, frantic outcry of -terror, she rushed between them, arresting the blow ere it could fall. - -"Hellayne!" - -A cry in which Tristan's smothered feelings broke through every -restraint winged itself from the mouth of the fallen man. - -"Tristan!" came the hysterical response. - -Roger had hurled his wife aside, his eyes flaming like live coals under -their bushy brows. - -Those whom Hellayne had summoned to Tristan's aid, when she first -arrived on the scene of the conflict, unacquainted with the cause of -the quarrel and doubtful which side to aid, stood idly by, since with -Tristan's fall there seemed to be no farther demand for their services, -nor did Roger's towering stature invite interference. - -In the heat of the conflict with its attendant turmoil none of those -immediately concerned had remarked a procession approaching from the -distance which now emerged from the shadow of the great arch into the -moonlit thoroughfare. - -It was headed by four giant Nubians, carrying a litter on silver poles, -from between the half-shut silken curtains of which peered the face of -a woman. In its wake marched a score of Ethiopians in fantastic livery, -their broad, naked scimitars glistening ominously in the moonlight. - -The litter and its escort arrived but just in time. Ere Laval's blade -could pierce the heart of his prostrate victim, Theodora had leaped -from her litter and thrown her saffron scarf over the prostrate youth. - -With all the outlines of her beautiful form revealed through the thin -robe of spangled gauze she faced the irate aggressor and her voice cut -like steel as she said: - -"Dare to touch him beneath this scarf! This man is mine." - -Laval drew back, but his glaring eyes, his parted lips and his labored -breath argued little in favor of the fallen man, even though the blow -was, for the moment, averted. - -With foam-flecked lips he turned to Theodora. - -"This man is mine! His life is forfeit. Stand back, that I may wipe -this blot from my escutcheon." - -Theodora faced the speaker undauntedly. - -Ere he could reply, a woman's voice shrieked. - -"Save him! Save him! He is innocent! He has done naught amiss!" - -Hellayne, whom the Count had hurled against the masonry of the arch, -bruising her until she was barely able to support herself, at this -moment threw herself between them. - -[Illustration: "Thrown her saffron scarf over the prostrate youth"] - -"Who is this woman?" Theodora turned to Tristan's assailant. "Who is -this woman?" Hellayne's eyes silently questioned Tristan. - -Laval's sardonic laughter pealed through the silence. - -"This lady is my wife, the Countess Hellayne de Laval, noble Theodora, -who has followed her perjured lover to Rome, so they may do penance in -company," he replied sardonically. "His life is forfeit. His offence -is two-fold. Within the hour he swore he knew naught of her abode. -But--since you claim him,--by ties this scarf proclaims--take him and -welcome! I shall not anticipate the fate you prepare for your noble -lovers!" - -The two women faced each other in frozen silence, in the consciousness -of being rivals. Each knew instinctively it would be a fight between -them to the death. - -Theodora surveyed Hellayne's wonderful beauty, appraising her charms -against her own, and Hellayne's gaze swept the face and form of the -Roman. - -Tristan had scrambled to his feet, his face white with shame and rage. -From Theodora, in whose eyes he read that which caused him to tremble -in his inmost soul, he turned to Hellayne. - -"Oh, why have you done this thing, Hellayne, why?--oh, why?" - -Roger de Laval laughed viciously. - -"It was indeed not to be expected that the Lady Hellayne would find her -recalcitrant lover in the arms of the Lady Theodora." - -With an inarticulate outcry of rage Tristan was about to hurl himself -upon his opponent, had not Theodora placed a restraining hand upon him, -while her dark eyes challenged Hellayne. - -All the revulsion of his nature against this man rose up in him and -rent him. All the love for Hellayne, which in these days had been -floating on the wings of longing, soared anew. - -But his efforts at vindication in this strangest of all predicaments -were put to naught by the woman herself. - -"Hear me, Hellayne--it is not true!" he cried, and paused with a -choking sensation. - -Hellayne stood as if turned to stone. - -Then her eyes swept Tristan with a look of such incredulous misery that -it froze the words that were about to tumble from his lips. - -With a wail of anguish she turned and fled down the moonlit path like a -hunted deer. - -"Up and after her!" Laval shouted to the men whom Hellayne had summoned -to the scene and these, eager to demonstrate their usefulness, started -in pursuit, Roger leading, ere Tristan could even make a move to -interfere. - -Hellayne had fled into the open portals of a church at the end of the -street. She tottered and fell. Crawling through the semi-darkness she -gasped and leaned against a pillar. She saw a small side chapel, where, -before an image of the Virgin, guttered a brace of tapers. But ere she -reached the shrine her pursuers were upon her. As, with a shriek of -mortal fear she fell, she gazed into the brutal features of Roger de -Laval. His lips were foam-flecked, revealing his wolfish teeth. - -It was then her strength forsook her. She fell fainting upon the hard -stone floor of the church.-- - -For a pace Tristan and Theodora faced each other in silence. - -It was the woman who spoke. - -Her voice was cold as steel. - -"I have saved your life, Tristan! The weapon which my slaves have taken -from you awaits the call of its rightful claimant." - -She reentered her litter while Tristan stood by, utterly dazed. But, -when the slaves raised the silver poles, she gave him a parting glance -from within the curtains that seemed to electrify his whole being. - -After the litter-bearers and their retinue had trooped off, Tristan -remained for a time in the shadow of the Arch of the Seven Candles. - -He knew not where to turn in his misery, nor what to do. - -In the same hour he had found and lost his love anew. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -DARK PLOTTINGS - - -It was past the hour of midnight. - -In a dimly lighted turret chamber in the house of Hormazd the Persian -there sat two personages whose very presence seemed to enhance the -sinister gloom that brooded over the circular vault. - -The countenance of the Grand Chamberlain was paler than usual and there -was a slight gathering of the eyebrows, not to say a frown, which in -an ordinary mortal might have signified little, but in one who had so -habitual a command of his emotions, would indicate to those who knew -him well an unusual degree of restlessness. His voice was calm however, -and now and then a bland smile belied the shadows on his brow. - -At times his gaze stole towards a dimly lighted alcove wherein moved -a dark cowled figure, its grotesque shadow reflected in distorted -outlines upon the floor. - -"The Moor tarries over long," Basil spoke at last. - -"So do the ends of destiny," replied a voice that seemed to come from -the bowels of the earth. - -"He is fleeter than a deer and more ferocious than a tiger," the Grand -Chamberlain interposed. "Nothing has ever daunted him, nor lives the -man who would thwart him and live. Can you tell me where he is now?" - -"Patience!" came the sepulchral reply. "The magic disk reveals all -things! Anon you shall know." - -Informed by daily gossip and the reports of his innumerable spies, -Basil was aware of a growing belief among the people that the power -he wielded was not altogether human, and he would have viewed it with -satisfaction even had he not shared it. Seeing in it an additional -force helpful to the realization of his ambition, he had thrown himself -blindly into the vortex of black magic which was to give to him that -which his soul desired. - -In this chamber, filled with strange narcotic scents and the mysterious -rustling of unseen presences, by which he believed it to be peopled, -with the aid of one who seemed the personified Principle of Evil, Basil -assembled about him the forces that would ultimately launch him at the -goal of his ambition. - -This devil's kitchen was the portal to the Unseen, the shrine of the -Unknown, the observatory of the Past and the Future, and the laboratory -of the Forbidden. There were dim and mysterious mirrors, before which -stood brazen tripods whose fumes, as they wreathed upward, gleamed with -dusky fires. It was in these mirrors that the wizard could summon the -dead and the distant to appear darkly, in scarcely definable glimpses. -But he could also produce apparitions more vivid, more startling and -more beautiful. Once, in the dark depths of the chamber, Basil had -seen a woman's phantom apparition suddenly become strangely luminous, -her garments glowing like flames of many colors, that shifted and -blent and alternated in ceaseless dance and play, waving and trembling -in unearthly glory, till she seemed to be of the very flame herself. -The reflection of the world of shadows was upon her; its splendors -were wrapping her round like a mantle. He watched her with bated -breath, not daring to speak. And brighter, ever brighter, dazzling, -ever more dazzling, had grown the flaming phantom, till the wondrous -transfiguration reached the height of its beauty and its terror. Then -the phantom of murdered Marozia, evoked at his expressed desire from -the land of shadows, had faded, dying slowly away in the mysterious -depths of the mirror, as the fires that produced it sank and died in -white ashes. - -There could be no doubt. It was the emissary of Darkness himself who -held forth in this dim, demon-haunted chamber where he had so often -listened to the record of his awful visions. He had made him see in -his dreadful ravings the great vaults of wrath, where dwelt the dread -power of Evil. He had made him see the King of the Hopeless Throngs -on his black basaltic throne in the terrific glare-illumined caves, -where Michael had cast him and where Pain's roar rises eternally night -and day. He had made him see the great Lord of the Doomed Shadows, -receiving the homage of those dreadful slaves, those terror-spreading -angels of woe whose hand flings destruction over the earth and sea and -air, while flames were fawning and licking his feet with countless -tongues. - -And then he had shown to him a spirit mightier and more subtle than -any of those great wild destroyers who rush blindly through nature, -a spirit who starts in silence on her errand, whom none behold as, -creeping through the gloom, she undermines, unties and loosens all the -pillars of creation, with no more sign nor sound than a black snake in -the tangled grass, till with a thunder that stuns the world the house -of God comes crashing down--dread Hekaté herself. - -Was there any crime he had left undone? - -His subterranean prisons in which limbs unlearned to bend and eyes to -see concealed things whose screams would make the flesh of a ghost -creep, if flesh one had. - -But now there was a darker light in Basil's eyes, a something more -ominous of evil in his manner. The wizard's revelation had possessed -his soul and his whole terrible being seemed intensified. With the -patience of one conscious of a superhuman destiny he waited the -summons that was to come to him, even though his soul was consumed by -devouring flames. - -For he had come yet upon another matter; an inner voice, whose appeal -he dared not ignore, had informed him long ago of his waning power with -Theodora. From the man wont to command he had fallen to the level of -the whimpering slave, content to pick up such morsels as the woman saw -fit to throw at his feet. Only on the morning of this day, which had -gone down the never returning tide of time, a terrible scene had passed -between them. And he knew he had lost. - -Basil had been an unseen witness of Theodora's and Tristan's meeting -in the sunken gardens on the Aventine. Every moment he had hoped to -see the man succumb to charms which no mortal had yet withstood upon -whom she had chosen to exert them, and on the point of his poniard -sat Death, ready to step in and finish the game. From the fate he had -decreed him some unknown power had saved Tristan. But Basil, knowing -that Theodora, once she was jilted by the object of her desire, would -leave nothing undone to conquer and subdue, was resolved to remove from -his path one who must, sooner or later, become a successful rival. By -some miraculous interposition of Providence Tristan had escaped the -fate he had prepared for him on the night when he had tracked the two -strangers from the Lateran. He had had him conveyed for dead to the -porch of Theodora's palace. But Fate had made him her mock. - -Never had Basil met Theodora in a mood so fierce and destructive as on -the morning after she had destroyed Roxana and her lover, and had, in -turn, been jilted by Tristan. And, verily, Basil could not have chosen -a more inopportune time to press his suit or to voice his resentment -and disapprobation. Theodora had driven every one from her presence and -the unwelcome suitor shared the fate of her menials. Her dark hints -had driven the former favorite to madness, for his passion-inflamed -brain could not bear the thought that the love he craved, the body -he had possessed, should be another's, while he was drifting into the -silent ranks of the discarded. He knew for a surety that Theodora was -not confiding in him as of old. Had she somehow guessed the dread -mystery of the crypts in the Emperor's Tomb, or had some demon of Hell -whispered it into her ear during the dark watches of the night? - -A flash of lightning followed by a terrific peal of thunder roused him -from his reveries. The storm which had threatened during the early -hours of the evening now roared and shrieked round the tower and the -very elements seemed in accord with the dark plottings in Hormazd's -chamber. - -"How much longer must I wait ere the fiends will reveal their secrets?" -Basil at last turned to the exponent of the black arts. - -The wizard paused before the questioner. - -"To what investigation shall we first proceed?" - -"You must already have divined my thoughts." - -"I knew the instant you arrived. But there is an incompleteness which -makes my perceptions less exact than usual." - -"Where are my messengers? To the number of three have I sped. None has -returned." - -The Oriental touched a knob and the lamps were suddenly extinguished, -leaving the room illumined by the red glow of the oven. Then he bade -his visitor fix his eyes on the surface of the disk. - -"Upon this you will presently behold two scenes." - -He poured a few drops of something resembling black oil upon the -disk, which at once spread in a mirror-like surface. Then he began to -mutter some words in an Oriental tongue, and lighted a few grains of a -chemical preparation which emitted an odor of bitter aloë. This, when -the flames had subsided, he threw upon the oil which at the contact -became iridescent. - -Basil looked and waited in vain. - -The conjurer exhausted all the selections which he thought -appropriate. The oil gradually lost the changing aspect it had acquired -from the burning substance, and returned to its dull murky tints, and -the interest which had appeared on Basil's features gave place to a -contemptuous sneer. - -"Are you, after all, but a trickster who would impose his art upon the -unwary?" - -The magician did not reply to this insult, nor did it seem to affect -him visibly. - -"We must try a mightier spell," he said, "for hostile forces are in -conjunction against us." - -By a small tongs he raised from the fire the metallic plate that had -been lying upon it. Its surface presented the appearance of oxidized -silver with a deep glow of heat. - -Upon this he claimed to be able to produce the picture of past or -future events, and many scenes had been reflected upon the magic shield. - -He now poured upon it a spoonful of liquid which spread simmering and -became quickly dissipated in light vapors. Then he busied himself with -scattering over the plate some grains that looked like salt which the -heated metal instantly consumed. - -At the end of a few moments he experienced what resembled an electric -or magnetic shock. His frame quivered, his lips ceased to repeat the -muttered incantations, his hand firmly grasped the tongs by which he -raised the metal aloft, now made brighter by the drugs just consumed, -and upon which appeared a white spot, which enlarged till it filled the -lower half of the plate. - -What it represented it was difficult to say. It might have been a sheet -or a snow drift. Basil felt an indefinable dread, as above it shimmered -forth the vague resemblance of a man on horseback, apparently riding at -breakneck speed. - -Slowly his contour became more distinct. Now the horseman appeared to -have reached a ford. Spurring his steed, he plunged into the stream -whose waters seemed for a time to carry horse and rider along with the -swift current. But he gained the opposite shore, and the apparition -faded slowly from sight. - -"It is the Moor!" cried Basil in a paroxysm of excitement. "He has -forded the rapids of the Garigliano. Now be kind to me O Fate--let this -thing come to pass!" - -He gave a gasp of relief, wiping the beads from his brow. - -The cowled figure now walked up to the central brazier, muttering words -in a language his visitor could not understand. Then he bade Basil walk -round and round it, fixing his eyes steadily upon the small blue flame -which danced on the surface of the burning charcoal. - -When giddiness prevented his continuing his perambulation he made him -kneel beside the brazier with his eyes riveted upon it. - -Its fumes enveloped him and dulled his brain. - -The wizard crooned a slow, monotonous chant. Basil felt his senses keep -pace with it, and presently he felt himself going round and round in an -interminable descent. The glare of the brazier shrank and diminished, -invaded from outside by an overpowering blackness. Slowly it became -but a single point of fire, a dark star, which at length flamed into a -torch. Beside him, with white and leering face, stood the dark cowled -figure, and below him there seemed to stretch intricate galleries, -strangled, interminable caves. - -"Where am I?" shrieked the Grand Chamberlain, overpowered by the fumes -and the fear that was upon him. - -"Unless you reach the pit," came the dark reply, "farewell forever to -your schemes. You will never see a crown upon your head." - -"What of Theodora?" Basil turned to his companion, choking and blinded. - -"If the bat-winged fiends will carry you safely across the abyss you -shall see," came the reply. - -A rush as of wings resounded through the room, as of monstrous bats. - -"Gehenna's flame shall smoothe her brow," the wizard spoke again. "When -Death brings her here, she shall stand upon the highest steps, in her -dark magnificence she shall command--a shadow among shadows. Are you -content?" - -There was a pause. - -The storm howled with redoubled fury, flinging great hailstones against -the time-worn masonry of the wizard's tower. - -"Then," Basil spoke at last, his hands gripping his throat with a -choking sensation, "give me back the love for which my soul thirsts and -wither the bones of him who dares to aspire to Theodora's hand." - -The wizard regarded him with an inscrutable glance. - -"The dark and silent angels, once divine, now lost, who do my errands, -shall ever circle round your path. Everlasting ties bind us, the -one to the other. Keep but the pact and that which seems but a wild -dream shall be fulfilled anon. They shall guide you through the dark -galleries of fear, till you reach the goal." - -"Your words are dark as the decrees of Fate," Basil replied, as the -fumes of the brazier slowly cleared in his brain and he seemed to -emerge once more from the endless caverns of night, staring about him -with dazed senses. - -"You heed but what your passion prompts," the cowled figure interposed -sternly, "oblivious of that greater destiny that awaits you! It is a -perilous love born in the depths of Hell. Will you wreck your life for -that which, at best, is but a fleeting passion--a one day's dream?" - -"Well may you counsel who have never known the hell of love!" Basil -cried fiercely. "The fiery torrent that rushes through my veins defies -cold reason." - -The cowled figure nodded. - -"Many a ruler in whose shadow men have cowered, has obeyed a woman's -whim and tamely borne her yoke. Are you of those, my lord?" - -"I have set my soul upon this thing and Fate shall give to me that -which I crave!" Basil cried fiercely. - -The wizard nodded. - -"Fate cannot long delay the last great throw." - -"What would you counsel?" the Grand Chamberlain queried eagerly, -peering into the cowled and muffled face, from which two eyes sent -their insane gleam into his own. - -"Send her soul into the dark caverns of fear--surround her with -unceasing dread--let the ghosts of those you have sent butchered to -their doom surround her nightly pillow, whispering strange tales into -her ears,--then, when fear grips the maddened brain and there seems no -rescue but the grave--then peals the hour." - -Basil gazed thoughtfully into the wizard's cowled face. - -"When may that be?" - -"I will gaze into the silent pools of my forbidden knowledge with the -dark spirits that keep me company. I have mysterious rules for finding -day and hour." - -"I cannot expel the passion that rankles in my blood," Basil interposed -darkly. "But I will tear out my heart strings ere I shirk the call. An -emperor's crown were worth a tenfold price, and ere I, too, descend to -the dread shadows, I mean to see it won." - -"These thoughts are idle," said the wizard. "Only the weak plumb the -depths of their own soul. The strong man's bark sails lightly on -victorious tides. Your soul is pledged to the Powers of Darkness." - -"And by the fiends that sit at Hell's dark gate, I mean to do their -bidding," Basil replied fiercely. "Else were I indeed the mock of -destiny. Tell me but this--how did you obtain a knowledge at which the -fiend himself would pale?" - -The wizard regarded him for a moment in silence. - -"You who have peered behind the curtain that screens the dreadful -boundaries--you who have seen the pale phantom of Marozia, whom you -have sent to her doom,--how dare you ask?" - -Basil had raised both hands as if to ward off an evil spirit. - -"This, too, then is known to you? Tell me! Was what I saw a dream?" - -"What you have seen--you have seen," the cowled form replied -enigmatically. "The cocks are crowing--and the pale dawn glimmers in -the East." - -Throwing his mantle about him, Basil left the turret chamber and, after -creeping down a narrow winding stair, he made for his villa on the -Pincian Hill. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -FACE TO FACE - - -Roger de Laval had chosen for his abode in Rome a sombre and frowning -building not far from the grim ways of the Campo Marzo, half palace -half fortalice, constructed about a huge square tower with massive -doors. Like all palace fortresses of the time which might at any -moment have to stand a siege, either at the hands of a city mob or at -those of some rapacious noble, it contained in its vaulted halls and -tower chambers all the requisites for protracted resistance as well -as aggression. On the walls between flaunting banners hung the many -quartered shields and the dark coats of chain, the tabards of the -heralds and the leathern jerkins of the bowmen. On the shelves between -the arches stood long rows of hauberks and shining steel caps. Dark -tapestries covered the walls and the bright light of the Roman day fell -muted through the narrow slits in the sombre masonry which served as -windows. - -It was not to seek his wife that Roger had come to Rome, and his -meeting with Tristan in the gardens of Theodora had been purely -accidental. While his vanity and selfishness had received a severe -shock in Hellayne's departure, without even a farewell, he had not -allowed an incident in itself so trifling to disturb the even tenor of -his ways. He had loved to display her at his feasts as one displays -some exceeding handsome plaything that gives pleasure to the senses; -otherwise he and the countess had no common bond of interest. Hellayne -was the only child of one of the most powerful barons of Provence, and -had been given in marriage to the older man before she even realized -what the bonds implied. Only after meeting Tristan had the awakening -come, and youth sought youth. - -That which brought every one to Rome in an age when Rome was still by -common consent the centre of the universe, such as the Saxon Chronicles -of the Millennium pronounce it, had also caused Roger de Laval to seek -the Holy Shrines, not in quest of spiritual benefit, but of temporal -aggrandizement, in the character of an investiture from the Vicar of -Christ himself. His disappointment at finding the head of Christendom a -prisoner in his own palace was perhaps only mitigated by the disclosure -that he should have to rely upon his own fertility of mind for the -realization of a long-fostered ambition. - -On one of his visits to the Lateran, hoping to obtain an interview -with the Pontiff, he had met Basil as representative of the Roman -government, in the absence of Alberic, and a sinister attraction had -sprung up between them in the consciousness that each had something -to give the other lacked. This bond was even strengthened by Basil's -promise to aid the stranger in the attainment of his desires, and at -last Roger had confided in Basil the story of the shadow that had -spread its gloomy pinions over the castle of Avalon. Basil had listened -and suggested that the Lord Laval drown his sorrows at the board of -Theodora. Therein the latter had acquiesced, with the result that he -met Tristan on that night. - -Hellayne was sitting alone by the window in a long silent gallery. She -could not take her eyes off the restless outline of the clouds where -head on head and face on face continued taking shape. In vain her -teased brain tried to see but clouds. Two nights ago had not a horrid -face grinned at her from out of these same clouds? The face of a wolf -it had seemed. And it had taken human shape and changed to the face of -the man who had brought her to this abode from the sanctuary where she -had fallen by the shrine. - -And yet, as she looked at the sun, whose beams were fast dwindling on -the bar of the horizon, how she yearned to keep the light a little -longer, if only a few short minutes. She could have cried out to the -sun not to leave her so soon, again to wage her lonely war with the -Twilight and with Fear. For during the hours of day her lord was away. -Business of state he termed what took him from her side. With a leer he -left and with a leer he was wont to return. And with him the memory of -his meeting with Tristan! - -She had found him again, the man she loved! Found him--but how? And -Hellayne covered her burning eyes with her white hands. - -This other woman who had stepped in between her and Tristan, who had -laid a detaining hand upon his arm and had silently challenged her for -his possession--what was she to him? - -For three days and three nights the thought had tormented her even to -the verge of madness. Had she sacrificed everything but to find him -she loved in the arms of another? Silently she had borne the taunts of -her lord, his insults, his vile insinuations. He did not understand. -He never understood. What of it? In the great balance what mattered it -after all? - -She must see Tristan. She must hear the truth from his own lips. In -vain she puzzled her brain how to reach him. She remembered his last -outcry of protest. There was a mystery she must solve. Come what might, -she was once more the woman who loved. And she was going to claim the -payment of love! - -As regarded that other, to whom she had bound herself, her conscience -had long absolved her of an obligation that had been forced upon her. -Had fate and fact not proved the thing impossible? Had fate not cast -them again and again into each other's arms and made mock of their -conscience? Nature had made them lovers, let it be the will of God or -the devil. - -And lovers till death should they be henceforth. He belonged to her. -Away with faith--away with fear of this world, or the next. Away with -all but the dear present, in which the brutality of others had set her -free. For a moment her thoughts turned almost pagan. - -Was she to return to the old, loveless life in that far corner of the -earth, while he whom she loved took up a new existence in the centre -of the world, loving another to whose ambition he might owe a great -career? She needed indeed to sit in silence, she who had done daring -things without a misgiving, as if impelled by a power not her own. She -had done them, marvelling at her own courage, at her own faith in him -she loved, and she had not faltered. - -The torturing dusk was drowning every living thing in pallid waves of -shadow. One by one, through the wan gallery in which she was locked, -the motley spectres of night would pass in all their horrors, and begin -their crazy, soundless nods and becks. - -Suddenly she cowered back, shuddering, with her eyes fixed on the -darkening depths of the gallery and her day dreams died, like pale -ashes crumbling on the hearth. - -Roger de Laval had entered and was regarding her with a malignant leer -that almost froze the blood in her veins. She knew not what business -had taken him abroad. Nevertheless was assured that some dark deed was -slumbering in the depths of his soul. - -"Are you thinking of your fine lover?" he said as he slowly advanced -towards her. "You are grieved to have your thoughts broken into by your -husband? No doubt you wish me dead--" - -"Spare me this torture, my lord," she entreated. "I have answered a -thousand times--" - -"Then answer again--" - -"I swear before God and the Saints he is guiltless. He knew not I was -in Rome." - -"Swear what you will! A woman's oath is but a wind upon one's cheek on -a warm summer day--gone ere you have felt it. The oath of a woman who -has followed her lover--" - -"I have not done so!" - -"You have done your best to make the world believe it." - -"What of yourself?" There was a ring of scorn in her voice. - -"You have brought me to shame!" - -"What of the women you have shared with me?" - -Hellayne's eyes met those of her tormentor. - -"It is a man's part!" - -"And you are a man!" - -"One at least shall have cause to think so." - -"Perchance you will have him murdered. Why not kill me, too? That, too, -is a man's part." - -He gave a great roar. - -"And who says that I shall not?" - -An icy fear, not for herself, but for Tristan, gripped her heart. She -tried to hide it under a mantle of indifference. - -"What have you ever done to make yourself beloved?" - -"By Beelzebub--you--the runaway mistress of a fop--dares to question -me--her rightful lord?" - -"Who made the laws that bound me to your keeping? They are man-made, -and God knows as little of them as he knows of you. It was your -measureless conceit, your boundless egotism, that whispered to you that -any woman should feel honored, should deem it the height of glory, to -be your wife." - -"And is it not?" - -She shuddered. - -"You never dreamed there might be something in the depths of my soul -that cried out for more than the mere comforts and exigencies of -existence! Something that craved love, companionship, and, above all, -friendship. What have you done to waken this little slumbering voice -which died in the shadow of your tremendous egotism?" - -He stared at her. - -"He has taught you this speech, by God!" - -"He has awakened my true self! What was I to you but part of your -magnificence, a thing to make your fellows envious--" - -He roared. She continued: - -"The one decent woman of your life--your world--" - -His eyes glared. - -"So then, this low-born churl is a better man than I?" - -"At least he knew I had a soul of my own." - -"Skillfully cultivated to his own sweet ends." - -"His ends were innocent, else had he not fled." - -"Knowing that you would follow him." - -"He knew naught." - -"That remains to be seen." - -"It was you who brought us together!" she said with quiet scorn. "You -were so sure in your pride and your power and of my own timidity that -you thought it impossible that something might defy them. And you could -not understand that another might be so much closer to my nature, or -that I had a nature of my own. In those days I well remember, ere my -heart had strayed too far, I tried to waken you to the great danger. -I tried to speak of mine. But you would not be apprised of aught that -would seem a concession to your pride. So we are come to this!" - -Her eyes filled with tears. - -"Come to what?" he thundered. - -"My ruin--and your disgrace!" - -His breast heaved. - -"Of you I know nothing. As for myself--I suffer no disgrace. I am too -much a man of sense for that. Not a soul but thinks that you are absent -with my consent. A pilgrimage to Rome! Many a woman has, for her soul's -good gone alone. Not a soul, I warrant, has thought of your connection -with that fellow's plight. Not a soul but thinks that this is the sole -cause of your disappearance. And when I, too, went I was careful to -leave the rumor behind." - -He stepped closer, his breath fanning her pale cheeks. She looked -almost like a ghost in the grey twilight. - -"And now--" he continued, licking his sensuous lips, "you are -found--you are found--my beautiful wife--you are found--and--to the -eyes of the world at least--unstained. One alone whose lips are sealed, -knows." - -Hellayne's lips tightened. - -"And a woman." - -A strange expression came into his face. - -"Have you spied upon me, too?" - -"You forget the meeting at the Arch." - -"No woman will spread the story of a rival's claims!" - -There was a pause, then he continued, with deliberate slowness: - -"You shall come back with me--my beautiful Hellayne--my wife in name, -if not in deed! And you shall submit to my caresses, knowing, as I -do, how loathsome they are. And you shall smile--smile--and appear -happy--my wife henceforth in name only. And you shall smile no less at -what henceforth your lord's pleasure may be with other women--fair as -yourself--and you shall grow old and grey, and the thing you call your -soul shall die and wither up your beauty--and never a word shall pass -your lips anent this chastisement. And at last you shall die--and be -laid by--and not a soul shall ever be the wiser for your shame." - -Hellayne covered her face with her hands. - -"And if I should refuse to accept this fate?" - -"Then you shall be flung into a nunnery." - -"And if I refuse to become a nun?" - -"Then your lover shall pay the price--with his blood instead of yours. -Know you the woman he so madly loves?" - -"It is a lie!" she shrieked. - -There was a moment's silence. - -"Her name is Theodora. Saw you ever fairer creature?" - -"God!" - -"I want your answer!" leered the man. - -"I do not refuse!" - -An evil smile curved his lips. - -"I knew you would be reasonable--my fair Hellayne!" - -His lips were parted in a fatuous smile. He pictured to himself the -pain at the parting and indeed his satisfaction was so great that he -decided to prolong it yet a little longer. How amusing it would be to -watch the face of him who had dared to love Hellayne. Knowing as now -he did all the motives for his actions, it gave him pleasure to think -that he could mar the astonishing good fortune of this adventurer who -had found employment in the service of Alberic by the intrusion of this -passion for another woman. It would be real joy to see this creature -of sentiment thus torn and tortured. And it was yet a greater joy to -force Hellayne to witness the struggle, forced to smile at the conquest -of her lover by another woman. And he would watch the pangs of their -suffering till the day of his departure. - -With her own blue eyes Hellayne should witness the love of him she had -so madly followed, estranged by the beauty of Theodora, whose lure no -mortal might resist. - -After he had entered his own chamber, Hellayne flew like a mad thing -down the gloom-haunted gallery. Could she but escape from this -humiliation--even through death's doors--she would not shrink. She -felt, if she remained, she would go mad. - -It was true, then! Tristan loved another. The old love had been -forgotten and cast aside! All her fears and misgivings returned in one -mad whirl. - -Frantically she tried to remove the heavy bolt when she was paralyzed -by a demoniacal laugh that issued behind her and swooning she fell at -the feet of the man whose name she bore. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE CRESSETS OF DOOM - - -Never had Tristan's feelings been more hopelessly involved than since -that eventful night by the Arch of the Seven Candles when, like a ghost -of the past, Hellayne had once more crossed his path and had given -his solemn pledge the lie. And the more Tristan's thoughts reverted -to that fateful hour, when his oath seemed like so many words written -upon water, and the man who believed him guilty held his life in the -hollow of his hand, the greater grew his misery and unrest. Physically -exhausted, mentally startled at the vehemence of his own feelings, -he was suffering the relapse of a passion which he thought had burnt -itself out, letting his mind drift back to the memory of happier -days--days now gone forever. - -Why had she followed him? What was she doing here? Was the old fight to -be renewed? And withal happiness mingled with the pain. - -In the midst of these thoughts came others. - -Had she accompanied the Count Laval to Rome and were his questionings -mere pretense, to surprise the unguarded confession of a wrong of which -he knew himself sinless? Had she been here all these days, seeking him -perchance, yet not daring to make her presence known? - -And now where was she? Hardly found had he lost her? And see her he -must--whatever the hazard, even to death. How much he had to say to -her. How much he had to ask. Her presence had undone everything. Was -the old life to begin again, only with a change of scenes? - -He had read her love for him in her eyes, and he could have almost -wished that moment to have been his last, ere the untimely arrival of -Theodora saved him from the death stroke of his enraged enemy. For he -had seen the light fade from Hellayne's blue eyes when she faced the -other woman, and Laval's taunts had found receptive ears. Everything -had conspired against him on that night, even to seeming the thing he -was not, and with a heart heavy to breaking Tristan scoured the city of -Rome for three days in quest of the woman, but to no avail. - -His duties were not onerous and the city was quiet. No farther attempts -had been made to liberate the Pontiff and the feuds between the rival -factions seemed for the nonce suspended. - -Nevertheless Tristan felt instinctively, that all was not well. Night -after night Basil descended into the crypts of the Emperor's Tomb, -sometimes alone, sometimes with one or two companions, men Tristan -had never seen. Ostensibly the Grand Chamberlain visited the cells of -certain prisoners of state, and one night Tristan ventured to follow -him. But he was seized with so great a terror that he resolved to -confide in Odo of Cluny, who possessed the entire confidence of the -Senator of Rome, and be guided by his counsel. - -In the meantime, like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky, the terrible -thing had happened again. From the churches of Santa Maria in -Trastevere and Santa Sabina of the Aventine, the Holy Host had been -taken, notwithstanding the increased number of guards keeping watch in -the sanctuaries. - -Rome shivered in the throes of abject terror. People whispered in -groups along the thoroughfares, hardly daring to raise their voices, -and many asserted that the Antichrist had returned once more to earth -and that the End of Time was nigh. Like a dread foreboding of evil it -gripped Tristan's soul. - -And day and night interminable processions of hermits and monks -traversed the city with crosses and banners and smouldering incense. -Their chants could be heard from the ancient Flaminian to the Appian -Gate. - -Once more the shades of evening laid their cool touch upon the city's -fevered brow, and as the distant hills rose into a black mass against -the sunset two figures emerged on the battlements of the Emperor's Tomb -and gazed down on the dimmed outlines of the Pontifical City. - -Before them lay a prospect fit to rouse in the hearts of all who knew -its history an indescribable emotion. There, before them, lay the broad -field of Rome, whereon the first ominous activities of the Old World's -conquerors had been enacted. There in the mellow light of eve, lay the -Latin land, once popular and rich beyond all quarters of the earth -since the plain of Babylon became a desert, and now no less deserted -and forlorn. And from the height from which these two looked down upon -it, its shallow hills and ridges were truly minimized to the aspect of -one mighty plain, increasing the vast sense of desolation. Rome--Rome -alone--denied the melancholy story of disaster, utter and complete, the -work of Goth and Hun and of malarial terror. - -But now over all this solemn prospect was the luminous blue light of -evening, fading to violet and palest yellow in the farthest west, where -lay the Tyrrhene Sea. - -Presently one of the two laid aside his cloak and, baring his arms -to the kiss of the wind that crept softly about them, said in weary -accents: - -"Never in all my life, Father, have I known a day to pass as tardily -as this, for to me the coming hour is fraught with evil that may abide -with me forever, and my soul is eager to know its doom, yet shrinks -from the sentence that may be passed." - -Odo of Cluny looked into Tristan's weary face. - -"I, too, have a presentiment of Evil, as never before," the monk -replied, laying a gentle hand on his companion's shoulder. "There are -things abroad in Rome--one dares not even whisper. The Lord Alberic -chose an evil hour for his pilgrimage to Monte Gargano. Have you no -tidings?" - -"No tidings," reechoed Tristan gloomily. - -Odo of Cluny nodded pensively. - -"It seems passing strange. I know not why--" his voice sank to a -whisper. "I mistrust the Grand Chamberlain. Whom can we trust? A poison -wind is blowing over these hills--withering--destroying. The awful -sacrilege at Santa Maria in Trastevere, following so closely upon -the one at the Lateran, is but another proof that dark powers are at -work--powers defying human ken--devils in human shape, doomed to burn -to a crisp in the eternal fires." - -"Meanwhile--what can we do?" - -"Have you seen the Lord Basil?"-- - -"He was much concerned, examined the place in person, but found no -clue." - -"Are your men trustworthy?" - -"I know not, Father! For a slight service I chanced to do the Lord -Alberic he made me captain of the guard in place of one who had -incurred his displeasure. My men are Swiss and Lombards, a Spaniard or -two--some Calabrians--no Romans." - -"Therein lies your salvation," interposed the Benedictine. "How many -guard this tomb?" - -"Some four score men--why do you ask?" - -"I hardly know--save that there lurks some dark mystery behind the -curtain. Let no man--nor woman--relax your watchfulness. There are -tempests that destroy even the cedars of Lebanon," the monk continued -with meaning. "And such a one may burst one night." - -"Your words are dark, Father, and fill me with misgivings." - -"And well they should," Odo interposed with a penetrating glance at the -young captain. "For rumor hath it that another bird has strayed into -the Lady Theodora's bower--" - -Tristan colored under the monk's scrutiny. - -"I was present at her feast. Yet I know not how I got there!" - -The monk looked puzzled. - -"Now that you have crossed the dark path of Marozia's sister I fear the -ambushed gorge and the black arrow that sings from the hidden depths. -Why seek the dark waters of Satan, when the white walls of Christ rise -luminously before you?" - -"What is the import of these strange words so strangely uttered?" -Tristan turned to the monk with a puzzled air. - -"That shall be made known to you in time. Treason lurks everywhere. -Seal your ears against the Siren's song. Some say she is a vampire -returned to earth, doomed to live on, as long as men are base enough -to barter their soul for her kisses. And yet--how much longer? The -Millennium draws nigh. The End of Time is near." - -There was a pause. Tristan tried to speak, but the words would not come -from his lips. - -At last with an effort he stammered: - -"At the risk of incurring your censure, Father--even to the palace of -Theodora must I wend my steps to recover that which is my own." - -And he informed the Monk of Cluny how he had lost his poniard and his -scarf of blue Samite. - -"Why not send one you trust to fetch them back?" protested the monk. -"It is not well to brave the peril twice." - -"Myself must I go, Father. For once and all time I mean to break her -spell." - -"Deem you to accomplish that which no man hath--and live?" - -"There is that which shall keep my honor inviolate," Tristan replied. - -The cloudless sky was shot with dreamy stars, and cooling breezes were -wafted over the Roman Campagna. Through the stillness came the muffled -challenges of the guard. - -The twain crossed the ramparts of the Mausoleum in silence, holding -to their way which led towards a postern, when suddenly, out of -the battlements' embrazure, peered two gray, ghastly faces, which -disappeared as suddenly. But Tristan's quick eye had marked them and, -plucking at the monk's sleeve, he whispered: - -"Look yonder, Father--where stand two forms that scan us eagerly. My -bewildered brain refuses me the knowledge I seek, yet I could vouch the -sight of them is somehow familiar to my eyes." - -"That may well be," replied the monk. "For all this day long have -I been haunted by the consciousness that our movements are being -watched. Yet, I marvel not, for until Purgatory receive the soul of -this accursed wanton, there is neither peace nor security for us. -Her devilish hand may even now be informing all this dark plot, that -seethes about us," Odo of Cluny concluded in apprehensive tones. - -Presently they drew near the great gateway, before which the flicker of -cressets showed a company of the guard, with breast plates and shields, -their faces hidden by the lowered visors of their Norman casks. Among -them they noted a wizened eunuch, who, after peering at them with his -ferret-like eyes, pointed to a door sunk in the wall, the while he -whispered something in Tristan's ear. Thereupon Odo and Tristan entered -the guard chamber. - -It was deserted. - -Beneath the cressets' uncertain gleam, as they emerged beyond, stood -the eunuch with the same ferret-like glance, pointing across the dim -passage, to, where could be made out the entrance to a gallery. The -group behind them stood immobile in the flickering light and the space -about them was naught but a shadowy void. Yet, as they went, their -ears caught the clink of unseen mail, the murmur of unseen voices, and -Tristan gripped the monk's arm and said in husky tones: - -"By all the saints,--we are fairly in the midst of Basil's creatures. -An open foe I can face without shrinking, but I tell you this peril, -ambushed in impenetrable night, saps my courage as naught else would. -If but one battle-cry would shatter this numbing silence, one simple -sword would flash, as it leaps from its scabbard, I should be myself -again, ready to face any foe!" - -They entered the half gloom of a painted gallery where dog-headed -deities held forth in grotesque representation beside the crucified -Christ. They stole along its whole deserted length until they reached -a door, hardly discernible in the pictured wall. The lamps burned low, -but in the centre of the marble floor a brazier sent up a brighter -flame, filling the air with a fragrance as of sandal wood. - -Tristan's hand groped for a spring along the outer edge of the door. -At his touch a panel receded. Both he and the monk entered and the -door closed noiselessly behind them. Tristan produced a candle and -two flints from under his coat of mail. But ere he could light it by -striking the flints, the approach of a dim light from the farther end -of the tortuous gallery caused him to start, and both watched its -approach with dread and misgiving. - -Soon a voice fell on their ear, answered by another, and Tristan -swiftly drew his companion into a shadowy recess which concealed them -while it yet enabled them to hear every word spoken by the two. - -"Thus we administer justice in Rome," said the one speaker, in whom -Tristan recognized the voice of the Grand Chamberlain. - -"Somewhat like in our own feudal chateaux," came back the surly reply. - -Tristan started as the voice reached his ear. How came Roger de Laval -here in that company? - -"You approve?" said the silken voice. - -"There is nothing like night and thirst to make the flesh pliable." - -"Then why not profit thereby?--But are you still resolved upon this -thing?"-- - -There was a pause. The voice barked reply: - -"It is a fair exchange." - -Their talk died to a vague murmur till presently the harsher voice rose -above the silence. - -"Well, then, my Lord Basil, if these matters be as you say,--if you -will use your good offices with the Lady Theodora--" - -"Can you doubt my sincerity--my desire to promote your interests--even -to the detriment of my own?" - -His companion spat viciously. - -"He who sups with the devil must needs have a long spoon. What is to be -your share?" - -"Your meaning is not quite clear, my lord." - -"Naught for naught!" Roger snarled viciously. "Shall we say--the price -of your services?" - -"My lord," piped Basil with an injured air, "you wrong me deeply. It -is but my interest in you, my desire to see you reconciled to your -beautiful wife--" - -"How know you she is beautiful?" came the snarling reply. - -"I, too, was an unseen witness of your meeting at the Arch of the Seven -Candles," Basil replied suavely. - -"Was all Rome abroad to gaze upon my shame?" growled Basil's companion. -"Though--in a manner--I am revenged," he continued, through his -clenched teeth. "Instead of giving her her freedom, I shall use her -shrinking body for my plaything--I shall use her so that no other lover -shall desire her. As for that low-born churl--" - -With a low cry Tristan, sword in hand, made a forward lunge. The monk's -grip restrained him. - -"Madman!" Odo whispered in his ear. "Would you court certain death?" - -The words of the twain had died to a whisper. Thus they were lost -to Tristan's ear, though he strained every nerve, a deadly fear for -Hellayne weighting down his soul. - -The two continued their walk, passing so near that Tristan could have -touched the hem of their garbs. Basil was importuning his companion on -some matter which the latter could not hear. Laval's reply seemed not -in accord with the Grand Chamberlain's plans, for his voice became more -insistent. - -"But you will come--my lord--and you will bring your beautiful -Countess? Remember, her presence in Rome is no longer a secret. -And--whatever the cause which prompted her--pilgrimage, would you have -the Roman mob point sneering fingers at Roger de Laval?"-- - -"By God, they shall not!" - -"Then the wisdom of my counsel speaks for itself," Basil interposed -soothingly. "It is the one reward I crave." - -There was a pause. Whatever of evil brooded in that brief space of time -only these two knew. - -"It shall be as you say," Roger replied at last, and from their chain -mail the gleam of the lantern they carried evoked intermittent answer. - -When their steps had died to silence Tristan turned to the monk. His -voice was unsteady and there was a great fear in his eyes. - -"Father, I need your help as have I never needed human help before. -There is some devil's stew simmering in the Lord Basil's cauldron. I -fear the worst for her--" - -Odo shot a questioning glance at the speaker. - -"The wife of the Count Laval?" he returned sharply. - -"Father--you know why I am here--and how I have striven to tear this -love from my heart and soul. Would she had not come! Would I had never -seen her more--for where is it all to lead? For, after all, she is his -wife--and I am the transgressor. But now I fear for her life. You have -heard, Father. I must see her! I must have speech with her. I must warn -her. Father--I promise--that shall be all--if you will but consent and -find her--for I know not her abode." - -"You promise--" interposed the monk. "Promise nothing. For if you meet, -it will not be all. All flesh is weak. Entrust your message to my care -and I shall try to do your bidding. But see her no more! Your souls are -in grave peril--and Death stands behind you, waiting the last throw." - -"Even if our souls should be forever stamped with their dark errors I -must see her. I must know why she came hither--I must know the worst. -Else should I never find rest this side of the grave. Father, in mercy, -do my bidding, for gloom and misery hold my soul in their clutches, and -I must know, ere the twilight of Eternity engulfs us both." - -"We will speak of this anon," the Monk of Cluny interposed, as together -they left the gallery, now sunk in the deepest gloom and, passing -through the vaulted corridors, emerged upon the ramparts. No sign of -life appeared in the twilight, cast by the towering walls, save where -in the shadowy passages the dimmed lights of cressets marked the -passing of armed men. - -Below, the city of Rome began to take shape in the dim and ghostly -starlight, thrusting shadowy domes and towers out of her dark slumber. - -In the distance the undulating crests of the Alban Hills mingled with -the night mists, and from the nearby Neronian Field came the croaking -of the ravens, intensifying rather than breaking the stillness. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A MEETING OF GHOSTS - - -A voice whose prompting he could not resist, impelled Tristan, after -his parting from the Monk of Cluny, to follow the Grand Chamberlain, -who had taken the direction of the Pincian Hill. His retreating form -became more phantom-like in the misty moonlight, as viewed from the -ramparts of the Emperor's Tomb. Nevertheless, mindful of the parting -words of the monk, and filled with dire misgivings, Tristan set out -at once. True to his determination, he procured a small lantern and a -piece of coarse thick cloth, which he concealed under his cloak, then, -by a solitary pathway, he followed the direction he had seen Basil -take. The Bridge of San Angelo was deserted and not a human being was -abroad. - -After a time he arrived at a small copse, where Basil's form had -disappeared from sight. Clearing away the underbrush, Tristan came to -what seemed a fissure in a wall, which cast a tremendous shadow over -the surrounding trees and bushes. Creeping in as far as he dared, he -paused, then, with mingled emotions of expectancy and apprehension -which affected him so powerfully that for a moment he was hardly master -of his actions, he slowly and carefully uncovered his lantern, struck -two flints and lighted the wick. - -His first glance was intuitively directed to the cavity that opened -beneath him. - -Of Basil he saw no trace, notwithstanding he had seen him enter -the cavity at the point where he himself had entered. Ere long -however, he heard a thin, long-drawn sound, now louder, now softer; -now approaching, now receding, now verging toward shrillness, now -returning to a faint, gentle swell. This strange, unearthly music was -interrupted by a succession of long, deep rolling sounds, which rose -grandly about the fissures above, like prisoned thunderbolts striving -to escape. Roused by the mystery of the place and the uncertainty of -his own purpose, Tristan was, for a moment, roused to a pitch of such -excitement that almost threatened to unsteady his reason. Conscious of -the danger attending his venture, and the fearful legends of invisible -beings and worlds, he was constrained to believe that demons were -hovering around him in viewless assemblies, calling to him in unearthly -voices, in an unknown tongue, to proceed upon his enterprise and take -the consequences of his daring. - -Thus he remained for a time, fearful of advancing or retracing his -steps, looking fixedly into the trackless gloom and listening to the -strange sounds which, alternately rising and falling, still floated -around him. The fitful light of his lantern suddenly fell upon a -shape that seemed to creep through one of the stone galleries. In the -unsteady gleam it appeared from the distance like a gnome wandering -through the bowels of the earth, or a forsaken spirit from purgatory. - -Had it been but a trick of his imagination, or had his mortal eyes -seen a denizen of the beyond? At last he aroused himself, trimmed with -careful hand his guiding wick and set forth to penetrate the great rift. - -He moved on in an oblique direction for several feet, now creeping -over the tops of the foundation arches, now skirting the extremities -of the protrusions in the ruined brickwork, now descending into dark, -slimy, rubbish-choked chasms, until the rift suddenly diminished in all -directions. - -For a moment Tristan paused and considered. He was almost tempted to -retrace his steps, abandoning the purpose upon which he had come. -Before him stretched interminable gloom, brooding, he knew not over -what caverns and caves, inhabited by denizens of night. - -He moved onward, with less caution than he had formerly employed, -when suddenly and without warning a considerable portion of brickwork -fell with lightning suddenness from above. It missed him, else he -should never had known what happened. But some stray bricks hurled him -prostrate on the foundation arch, dislocating his right shoulder, and -shattering his lantern into atoms. A groan of anguish rose to his lips. -He was left in impenetrable darkness. - -For a short time Tristan lay as one stunned in his dark solitude. -Then, trying to raise himself, he began to experience in all their -severity the fierce spasms, the dull gnawings that were the miserable -consequences of the injury he had sustained. His arm lay numbed by his -side, and for the space of some moments he had neither the strength nor -the will to even move the sound limbs of his body. - -But gradually the anguish of his body awakened a wilder and strange -distemper in his mind, and then the two agonies, physical and mental, -rioted over him in fierce rivalry, divesting him of all thoughts, save -such as were aroused by their own agency. At length, however, the pangs -seemed to grow less frequent. He hardly knew now from what part of his -body they proceeded. Insensibly his faculties of thinking and feeling -grew blank; he remained for a time in a mysterious, unrefreshing repose -of body and mind, and at last his disordered senses, left unguided and -unrestrained, became the victims of a sudden and terrible illusion. - -The black darkness about him appeared, after an interval, to be dawning -into a dull, misty light, like the reflection on clouds which threaten -a thunderstorm at the close of day. Soon this atmosphere seemed to be -crossed and streaked with a fantastic trellis work of white, seething -vapor. Then the mass of brickwork which had fallen in, grew visible, -enlarged to an enormous bulk and endowed with the power of locomotion, -by which it mysteriously swelled and shrank, raised and depressed -itself, without quitting for a moment its position near him. And then, -from its dark and toiling surface, there rose a long array of dusky -shapes, which twined themselves about the misty trellis work above and -took the palpable forms of human countenances. - -There were infantile faces wreathed with grave worms that hung round -them like locks of slimy hair; aged faces dabbled with gore and slashed -with wounds; youthful faces, seamed with livid channels along which -ran unceasing tears; lovely faces distorted into the fixed coma of -despairing gloom. Not one of these countenances exactly resembled the -other. Each was stigmatized by a revolting character of its own. Yet, -however deformed their other features, the eyes of all were preserved -unimpaired. Speechless and bodiless they floated in unceasing myriads -up to the fantastic trellis work, which seemed to swell its wild -proportions to receive them. There they clustered in their goblin -amphitheatre, and fixedly and silently they glared down, without -exception, on the intruder's face. - -Meanwhile the walls at the side began to gleam out with a light of -their own, making jaded boundaries to the midway scenes of phantom -faces. Then the rifts in their surface widened, and disgorged -misshapen figures of priests and idols of the olden time, which came -forth in every hideous deformity of aspect, mocking at the faces of -the trellis work, while behind and over the whole soared shapes of -gigantic darkness. From this ghastly assemblage there came not the -slightest sound. The stillness of a dead and ruined world was about -him, possessed of appalling mysteries, veiled in quivering vapors and -glooming shadows. - -Days, years, centuries seemed to pass, as Tristan lay gazing up in a -trance of horror into this realm of peopled and ghostly darkness. - -At last he staggered to his feet. He must find an egress or go mad. -Slowly raising himself upon his uninjured arm, he looked vainly about -for the faintest glimmer of light. Not a single object was discernible -about him. Darkness hemmed him in, in rayless and triumphant obscurity. - -The first agony of the pain having resolved itself into a dull -changeless sensation, the vision that had possessed his senses was now, -in a vast and shadowy form, present only to his memory, filling the -darkness with fearful recollections and urging him on, in a restless, -headlong yearning, to effect his escape from this lonely and unhallowed -sepulchre. - -"I must pass into light. I must breathe the air of the sky, or I shall -perish in this vault," he muttered in a hoarse voice, which the fitful -echoes mocked by throwing his words as it were, to each other, even to -the faintest whisper of its last recipient. - -Gradually and painfully he commenced his meditated retreat. - -Tristan's brain still whirled with the emotion that had so entirely -overwhelmed his mind, as, staggering through the interminable gloom, he -set forth on his toilsome, perilous journey. - -Suddenly however he paused, bewildered, in the darkness. He had no -doubt mistaken the direction, and a gleam of light, streaming through -the fissure of the rock, informed him that there were others in this -abode of darkness, beside himself. - -Had he come upon the object of his quest? - -For a moment Tristan's heart stood still, then, with all the caution -which the darkness, the danger of secret pitfalls and the risk of -discovery suggested, he crept toward the crevice until the glow -gradually increased. From the bowels of the earth, as it were, voices -were now audible; they seemed to issue from the depths of a cavern -directly below where Tristan stood. Groping his way carefully along -the wall of rock, he at last reached the spot whence the light issued -and presently started at finding himself before an aperture just wide -enough to admit the body of a single man. A sort of perpendicular -ladder was formed in the wall of narrow juttings of stone, and below -these was the rock chamber from which the voices proceeded. - -It was some time ere the confusion of his ideas and the darkness -allowed Tristan to form any notion of the character of the locality, -when it suddenly dawned upon him that he had strayed into a place -regarding which he had heard and wondered much: the Catacombs of St. -Calixtus. - -This revelation was by no means reassuring, although the presence of -others held out hope that he would discover an exit from this shadowy -labyrinth. - -For a moment Tristan remained as one transfixed, as he gazed from his -lofty pinnacle into the shadowy vault below. - -He saw a stone table, lighted with a single taper, in the centre of -which lay an unsheathed dagger, and an object the exact character of -which he could not determine in the half gloom, also a brazen bowl. -About a dozen men in cloaks with black vizors stood around, and one, -taller than the rest, the gleam of whose eyes shone through the slits -of his mask, appeared to be concluding an address to his companions. - -The words were indistinguishable to Tristan but, when the speaker had -concluded, a dark murmur arose which subsided anon. Then those present -crowded around the stone table. The taper was momentarily obscured by -the intervening throng, and Tristan could not see the ceremony, though -he could hear the muttered formula of an oath they seemed to be taking. -What he did see caused the chill of death to run through his veins. - -The group again receding, the man bared his left arm, raised the dagger -on high and let it descend. Tristan saw the blood weltering slowly -from the self-inflicted wound, trickling drop by drop into the brazen -bowl, which another muffled figure was holding. Then each one present -repeated the ceremony, he who was presenting the bowl being the last to -mingle his blood with that of the rest. - -Then another stepped forth and, raising the bloody knife on high, -stabbed the object that lay upon the table. Some mysterious signs -passed between them, meaningless words that struck Tristan's ear with -the vague memory of a dimly remembered dream. Then he who seemed to -be the speaker raised the object on high and, walking to a niche, -concealed in the shadows, placed it in, what seemed to Tristan, a -fissure in the rock. - -Like ghosts returning to the bowels of the earth, they glided away, -silently, soundlessly, and soon the silence of death hovered once again -in the rock caverns of the Catacombs of St. Calixtus. - -In breathless suspense, utterly oblivious of the injury he had -sustained, Tristan gazed into the deserted rock chamber where the dim -light of the taper still flickered in a faint breath of air wafted from -without. - -Hardly did the hearts of the Magi when the vision of the Star in the -East first dawned upon their eyes experience a transport more vivid -than that which animated Tristan when he found his terrible stress -relieved. - -But almost immediately a reaction set in and a dire misgiving -extinguished the quick ray of hope that had lighted his heart, luring -him on to escape from these caverns of Death. - -By a strange mischance they had neglected to extinguish the taper. -They might return at any moment and, his presence discovered, the doom -in store for the intruder on their secret rites was not a matter of -surmise. Composing himself to patience, Tristan waited, glaring as a -caged tiger at the gates whose opening or closing might spell freedom -or doom. At last, after a considerable lapse of time, moments that -seemed eternity, he resolved to hazard the descent. - -Slowly and painfully moving, with the pace and perseverance of a -turtle, he writhed downward upon his unguided course until he reached -the bottom of the cavern. Breathless with exhaustion after his -breakneck descent, he waited in the shadow of a projecting rock. When -the deep sepulchral silence remained undisturbed, he advanced toward -the fissure in the rock where one of the muffled company had placed the -mysterious object. - -Tristan's quest was not at once rewarded. The shelving in the rock -cavern, being irregular and almost indistinguishable, offered no clue -to the mystery. A great fear was upon him, but he was determined, to -discover the meaning of it all. - -Suddenly he paused. A small cabinet of sandal wood, concealed behind -the jutting stone, had caught his eye. It was painted to resemble the -rock and the untrained eye would not linger upon it. A small keyhole -was revealed, but the key had been taken away. - -Tristan stood irresolute, with straining eyes and listening ear. Not -a sound was audible. Even the piping of the night wind in the rock -fissures seemed to have died to silence. With quick resolution he -inserted one of the sharp-edged flints and gave a wrench. - -When the top receded he could not repress an outcry. A chill coursed -coldly through his veins. His breath came and went in sobs, as from one -half drowned. - -He only glanced at what was before him for the fraction of a second. -But he knew what had made the very soul within him shudder and his -bones grind, as if in mortal agony. - -It was as though Hell itself had opened the gates. He staggered back in -a paroxysm of horror.-- - -With a grim, set face Tristan closed the top of the cabinet and -replaced it on the rocky ledge. Thus he stood, his face buried in his -hands. Could the All-seeing God permit such an outrage and let the -perpetrators live? - -But there was no time for reflection. At any moment one of the muffled -phantoms might return, and indeed he thought he heard steps approaching -through one of the rock galleries. He crouched in breathless, agonized -suspense, for it did not suffer him longer in these caverns of crime -and death. - -He dimly remembered the direction in which the nocturnal company had -departed and, after some research, he discovered a narrow corridor -that seemed to slope upward through the gloom. His lantern having been -broken to atoms, the taper held out little promise of life beyond a -brief space of time during which he must find the entrance of the -cavern, if he did not wish to meet a fate even worse than death in the -event of discovery. - -Grimly resolved Tristan raised the flickering taper and entered the -gallery on his left. The Stygian gloom almost extinguished the feeble -light, though he noted every object he passed, every turn in the -tortuous ascent. - -After some time which seemed eternity he at last perceived a dim glow -at the extremity of the gallery, and soon found himself before the -outer cavity of the stone wall, in a region of the city that seemed -miles removed from the place where he had entered. - -It was near daybreak. The moon shone faintly in the grey heavens and a -vaporous mist was sinking from shapeless clouds that hovered over the -course of the Tiber. - -Tristan looked about his solitary lurking place, but beheld no human -being in its lonely recesses. Then his eyes fixed themselves with a -shudder upon the glooming vault from which he had made his escape. - -He was on the track of a terrible mystery, a mystery which shunned the -light of day and of heaven. He must fathom it, whatever the risk. A -strange new energy possessed him. His life at last seemed to have a -purpose. He was no longer a rolling stone. There was work ahead. His -future course stood out clearly defined, as Tristan turned his back -upon the Catacombs of St. Calixtus and took the direction of the -Aventine. To Odo, the Monk of Cluny, he must confide the terrible -discovery he had made in the mephitic caverns of the Catacombs. To him -he must turn for counsel, of which he stood sorely in need. And in some -way which he could not account for to himself, Tristan felt as if the -fate of Hellayne was bound up in these dreadful mysteries. At first -the thought seemed absurd, but somehow it gained upon him and began to -add new weight to his burden. Could he but see her! Could he but have -speech with her. A great dread seized him at the thought of what might -be her fate at the present hour. What would she think of him who seemed -to have abandoned her in the hour of dire distress, when she needed him -above all men on earth? - -Did her intuition, did her heart inform her that he had roamed the city -for days in the hope of finding her? Had her heart informed her that, -like a spirit judged and condemned, he found neither rest nor peace -in his vain endeavors to discover her abode? Was she sinking under -her loneliness, perishing from uncertainty of her fate, doubts of his -allegiance? To what perils and miseries had he exposed her, and to what -end? He groaned in despair, as his mind reverted from the dark present -to the happy past. A past, forever gone!-- - -A faint streak of light crept across the East, permeating the grey dawn -with roseate hues as Tristan re-entered the Emperor's Tomb to partake -of an hour or two of much needed rest, ere the business of the new-born -day claimed him its own. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A BOWER OF EDEN - - -After some hours of much needed rest Tristan started out to find -the Monk of Cluny. The task he had set himself was not one easy of -execution, since the Benedictine friar was wont to visit the Roman -sanctuaries following the promptings of the spirit without adhering to -a definite routine. Thus the greater part of the day was consumed in a -futile quest of him of whose counsel he stood sorely in need. - -At the hour of sunset Tristan set anew upon his quest. His feet carried -him to a remote region of the city, and when he regained his bearings -he found himself before the convent of Santa Maria del Priorata with -its environing groves of oleander and almond trees. - -The moon was floating like a huge pearl of silver through vast seas of -blue. The sleeping flowers were closed, like half-extinguished censers, -breathing faint incense on the night's pale brow. From some dark bough -a nightingale was shaking down a flood of song. The fountains from -their stone basins leaped moonward in the passion of their love and -seemed to fall sobbing back to earth. The night air breathed hot and -languorous across the gardens of the Pincian Mount. Lutes tinkled here -and there. And the magic of the night thrilled Tristan's soul. As in a -trance his gaze followed the white figure that was moving noiselessly -down a moss grown path. A thick hedge of laurel concealed her now. Then -she paused as if she, too, were enraptured by the magic of the night. - -The moon illumined the central lawn and the whispering fountains. Tall -cypresses seemed to intensify the shade. In the distance he could -faintly discern the white balustrade, crowning a terrace where green -alleys wound obscurely beneath the canopy of darkest oak, and moss and -violet made their softest bed. In the very centre of it was a small -domed temple, a shrine to Love. - -Tristan's senses began to swoon. Was it a hallucination--was it -reality? A moon maiden she seemed, made mortal for a night, to teach -all comers love in the sacred grove. - -"Hellayne! Hellayne!" - -His voice sounded strange to his own ears. - -As in a dream he saw her come towards him. She came so silent and so -pale in the spectral light that he feared lest it was the spectre -of his mind that came to meet him. And once more the voice cried -"Hellayne!" and then they lay in each other's arms. All her reluctance, -all her doubts seemed to have flown at the sound of her name from his -lips. - -"Hellayne! Hellayne!" he whispered deliriously, kissing her eyes, her -hair, her sweet lips, and folding her so close to him, as if he would -never again part from her he loved better than life. "At last I have -found you! How came you here? Speak! Is it indeed yourself, or is it -some mocking spirit that has borrowed your form?" - -And again he kissed her and their eyes held silent commune. - -"It is I who have just refound you!" she whispered, as he looked -enraptured into the sweet girlish face, the face that had not changed -since he had left Avalon, though she seemed to have become more -womanly, and in her eyes lay a pathetic sorrow. - -What a rapture there was in that clear tone. But she trembled as she -spoke. Would he understand? Would he believe? - -"But--why--why--are you here?" he stammered. - -"I have sought you long." - -"You have followed me? You are not then a nun?" - -"You see I am not." - -"But why--oh why,--have you done this thing?" - -She made no answer. - -"You are here in Rome--and he is here. And you did not know?" - -"I knew!" she replied with a little nod, like a questioned child. - -"You knew! And he believes that I knew!" - -"That is a small matter, dear. For he knows, that you knew not." - -The endearment startled him. It seemed to cast her faith upon him. - -"What are you doing here?" he said. - -"I came because I had to come! I had no choice--!" - -"No choice! Then why did you send me away?" - -She gave a little shrug. - -"I knew not how much I loved you." - -"And yet, dearest, you cannot remain here. You know his moods better -than any one else--and you know if he finds us--for your own sake, -dearest, you cannot remain." - -In the warmth of his entreaty he had used as endearing words as she. -They were precious to her ears. - -"Let him come!" she said, nestling close to him. "Let him come and kill -me!" - -She glanced about. He pointed to the castellated building that rose -darkly beyond the holm-oaks. - -"Yonder--is yonder your abode?" he stammered. - -Suddenly the woman in her gained the mastery. - -"Oh no! No! No! Let us hide! Wretch that I am, to risk your life with -mine." - -She had flung herself upon him. Around them rioted roses in wild -profusion. To him it seemed like a bosquet of Eden. Upon his breast she -sobbed. But no consideration of past or present could restrain his hand -from gently soothing her silken hair. - -"Oh, why did you leave me?" she cried. "Why could we not have loved -without all this? Surely two souls can love--if love they must--without -doing wrong to any one." - -His arms stole about her. - -"Speak to me! Speak to me!" she whispered with upturned face. - -"Had I known that this would happen, I should have known that I did -foolishly," he replied. "You should have known, dearest. You thought to -kill our love by cutting it to earth. You have but made its roots grow -deeper down into the present and the future!" - -She nodded dreamily. - -"Perchance you speak truth!" she said. "You see me here by your side, -having crossed leagues and leagues to seek your soul, my home--my only -home forever. And as surely as the bee goes back to its one hallowed -oak have I refound you. And as surely as the ocean knows that every -breath of vapor lifted from its face shall some day come back to its -breast, so surely did you know that your love must return to you." - -"Unless," he said, "it sinks into the unseen springs that are so deep -that they are lost from sight forever." - -"Lost--nothing is lost. The deepest water shall break out some day and -reach the lake--the river. Then, why not now? I am one who cannot wait -for eternity." - -"And yet, eternity I fear, is waiting for us!" - -There was a deep silence, lasting apace. - -"Ah, I know," she said at last. "I know I ought to think as you do. I -should be conscience stricken now, as I was then. I should be glad that -you left me. But I am not--I am not. I am here, dearest, to ask you if -you love me still?"-- - -"Love you?" he replied in a transport, holding her close, while he -covered her eyes and her upturned face with kisses. "I love you as -never woman was loved--as the night loves the dew in the cups of the -upturned flowers--as the nightingale loves the dream that weaves its -phantom webs about her bowers. I love you above everything in heaven or -on earth. You knew the answer, dearest. Why did you ask?" - -"I see it in your eyes. You love me still," she crooned, her beautiful -white arms about his neck, "notwithstanding--" - -He started. And yet, after the scene she had witnessed on that night, -her doubts were but too well-founded. Yet she had not queried before. - -"Strange fortunes crossed my path since I came here," he said. -"Ambition lured--I followed, as one who lost his way. Would you have -had me do otherwise?" - -In his eyes she read the truth. Yet the shadow of that other woman had -come between them as a phantom. - -"Oh, no,--although I never thought that you were made for statecraft." - -"I am in the service of the Senator. And the Senator of Rome is her -foe." - -"And you?" - -"I am his servant." - -She laughed nervously. - -"I never thought you would come to this, my love." - -"Nor ever should I have thought so. But fate is strange. The Holy -Father is imprisoned in the Lateran. To him I wended my way. But -the only service I did him was to prevent his escape--unwittingly. -I visited the sanctuaries. But though prayers hovered on my lips, -repentance was not in my heart. And then it came to pass. And I feel -like one borne in a bark that has neither sail nor rudder. And if, -instead of being far-floated to these Roman shores, I am headed for a -port where all is security and peace, can I prevent it? I am borne on! -I close my eyes and try to think that Fate has intended it for my good." - -"For your good!" she said bitterly. - -"For yours no less, perchance." - -"How so, dearest? What good can come to me from your soul's security? -To me, who believe our love is rightful?" - -"And yet you sent me from you--into darkness--loneliness--despair?" - -She stroked his hair. - -"It was fear as well as conscience that prompted. You once said that -all things are right, that may not be escaped. You said, that if God -was at the back of all things, all things were pure--" - -"I know I said it! But, what I meant, I know not now. I saw things -strangely then." - -"There were days when I, too, lost my vision," she said softly, "when I -said to myself: there is truth and truth--the higher and the lower. It -was the higher, if you like to call it so, Tristan, that prompted the -deed. Since then I have come down to earth, and the lower truth, more -fit for beings of clay, proclaims my presence here--" - -"What will you do?" he queried anxiously. - -"I know not--I know not! I came here to be with you--without ever a -thought of meeting him again whom I have wronged--if wronged indeed -I have. He has vowed to kill you! Oh, to what a pass have I brought -you--my love--my love! Let us fly from Rome! Let us leave this city. He -will never know. And as for me--he but loves me because I am fair to -look upon, and lovable in the eyes of another. What I have suffered in -the silence, in the darkness, you will never know. You shall take me -with you--anywhere will I go--so we shake the dust of this city from -our feet." - -She leapt at him again and flung her arms about his neck, her face -upturned. He had neither will nor power to release himself. He scarcely -had the strength to speak the words which he knew would stab her to the -heart. - -Even ere he spoke she fell away from him as if she had read his mind. - -"So you persuaded him of your repentance," she cried. "You are friends -over the body of your murdered love! And I--who gave all--am left -alone,--the foe of either. It was nobly done." - -He stared at her as if he thought she had gone mad. - -"Listen, Hellayne," he urged, taking her hands in his, in the endeavor -to soothe her. "What spirit of evil has whispered this madness into -your ears? Even just now you said, he has sworn to kill me. How could -there be reconciliation between Roger de Laval and myself--who love his -wife?" - -"Then what is it?" she queried, her eyes upon his lips as if she were -waiting sentence to be pronounced upon her. - -"I am the Senator's man!" - -The words fell upon her ears like the knell of doom. - -"He will release you! I will go to him--if your pride is greater, than -your love." - -She was all woman now, deaf to reason and entreaty, thinking of nothing -but her great love of him. - -He drew her down beside him on the marble seat. - -"Listen, Hellayne! You do not understand--you wrong me cruelly. Naught -is there in this world that I would not do to make you happy--you, -whose love and happiness are my one concern while life endures. But -this thing may not be. The Senator of Rome is away on a pilgrimage. He -has chosen me to watch over this city till his return. Danger lurks -about me in every guise. Its nature I know not. But I do know that -there is some dark power at work plotting evil. There is one I do not -trust--the Lord Basil." - -Hellayne gave a start. - -"The bosom friend, so it would seem, of the Count Laval." - -The color had left Tristan's face. - -"You have met?" - -"He appears to have taken a great liking to my lord. Almost daily does -he call, and they seem to have some secret matter between them." - -Tristan gripped Hellayne's hand so fiercely that she hardly suppressed -an outcry. - -"Have you surprised any utterance?" - -"Only a name. They thought I was out of earshot." - -"What name?" - -"Theodora!" - -She watched him narrowly as she spoke the word. - -He gave a start. - -"Theodora," Hellayne repeated slowly. "She who saved your life when my -poor efforts failed." - -There was a tinge of bitterness in her tone which did not escape -Tristan's ear. Ere he could make reply, she followed it up with the -question: - -"What is there between you and her?" - -"For aught I know it is some strange whim of the woman, call it -infatuation if you will," he replied, "which, though I have repelled -her, still maintains. It was at her feast I first met the Lord Roger -face to face." - -"How came you there?" she questioned with pained voice. - -Tristan recounted the circumstances, concealing nothing from the time -of his arrival in Rome to the present hour. Hellayne listened wearily, -but the account he gave seemed rather to irritate than to reconcile her -to him, who thus laid bare his heart before her. - -"And so soon was I forgot?" she crooned. - -"Never for a moment were you forgot, my Hellayne," he replied with all -the fervor of persuasion at his command. "At all times have I loved -you, at all times was your image enshrined in my heart. Theodora is -all-powerful in Rome, as was Marozia before her. The magistrates, the -officers of the Senator's court, are her creatures,--Basil no less than -the rest. Would that the Lord Alberic returned, for the burden he has -placed upon my shoulders is exceeding heavy. But you, my Hellayne, what -will you do? I cannot bear the thought of knowing you with him who has -wrecked your life, your happiness." - -In Hellayne's blue eyes there was a great pain. - -"Why mind such trifles since you but think of yourself?" - -"You do not understand!" he protested. "Can I with honor abandon the -trust which the Senator has imposed? What if the dreadful thing should -happen? What if sudden sedition should sweep his power into the night -of oblivion? Could I stand face to face with him, should he ask: 'How -have you kept your trust?'" - -Steps were approaching on the greensward. - -Hellayne turned pale and Tristan's arm closed about her, determined to -defend her to the death against whosoever should dare intrude. - -Then it was as if some impalpable barrier had arisen between the man -and the woman. It seemed the last hard malice of Fate to have brought -them so near to what was not to be. - -Hardly had Tristan drawn her throbbing bosom to his embrace when a dark -shadow fell athwart their path and, looking up, he became aware of a -forbidding form that stood hard by, wrapped in a black mantle that -reached to his heels. From under a hood which was drawn over his face -two beady eyes gleamed with smouldering fire, while the hooked nose -gave the face the semblance of a bird of prey, which illusion the cruel -mouth did little to dispel. - -Hellayne, too, had seen this phantom of ill omen and was about to -release herself from Tristan's arms, her face white as her robe, when -the speech of the intruder arrested her movement. - -"A message from the Lady Theodora." - -A hot flush passed over Tristan's face, giving way to a deadly -pallor as, hesitating to take the proffered tablet, he replied with -ill-concealed vexation: - -"Whom does the Lady Theodora honor by sending so ill-favored a -messenger?" - -The cowled figure fixed his piercing eyes first upon Tristan then upon -Hellayne. - -"The Lord Tristan will do well to pay heed to the summons, if he values -that which lies nearest his heart." - -But ere he, for whom the message was intended, could take it, Hellayne -had snatched it from the messenger, had broken the seal and devoured -its contents by the light of the moon which made the night as bright as -day. - -Then, with a shrill laugh, she cast it at Tristan's feet and, ere the -latter could recover himself, both the woman and the messenger had gone -and he stood alone in the bosquet of roses, vainly calling the name of -her who had left him without a word to his misery and despair. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -AN ITALIAN NIGHT - - -The palace of Theodora on Mount Aventine was aglow with life and -movement for the festivities of the evening. The lights of countless -cressets were reflected from the marble floor of the great reception -hall and shone on the rich panelling, and the many-hued tapestries -which decked the walls. - -In the shadow of the little marble kiosk which rose, a relic of a -happier age, among oleander and myrtles, shadowed by tall cypresses, -silent guardians of the past, Theodora and Basil faced each other. -The white, livid face of the man gave testimony to the passions that -consumed him, as his burning gaze swept the woman before him. - -"I have spoken, my Lord Basil! Should some unforeseen mischance befall -him I have summoned hither, look to it that I require not his blood at -your hands." - -Theodora's tone silenced all further questioning. After a pause she -continued: "And if you desire farther proof that this man shall not -stand against my enchantments, pass into yonder kiosk and through its -carven windows shall you be able to witness all that passes between us." - -She ceased with quivering lips, the while Basil regarded her from under -half-shut lids, filled with sudden brooding, and for a space there was -silence. At last he said in a low, unsteady voice: - -"So I did not err when my hatred rose against this puppet of the -Senator's, who came to Rome to do penance for a kiss. You love him, -your foe, while I, your utter slave, must stand by and, with aching -heart, see your mad desire bring all our schemes to naught." - -His hand closed on his dagger hilt, but Theodora's eyes flashed like -bared swords as with set face she said: - -"Fool!--to see but that which lies in your path, not the intricate nets -which are spread in the darkness. I mean to make this man my very own! -His fevered lips shall close on mine, and in my embrace he shall climb -to the heaven of the Gods. He shall be mine! He shall do my bidding -utterly. He shall open for me the gates of the Emperor's Tomb. He shall -stand beside me when I am proclaimed mistress of Rome! For my love he -shall defy the world that is--and the world that is not." - -"And what of the woman he loves?" Basil snarled venomously, and the -pallor of Theodora's face informed him that the arrow he had sped had -hit the mark. - -She held out her wonderful statuesque arms, then, raising herself to -her full height, she said: - -"Is the pale woman from his native land a match for me? What rare sport -it shall be to make of this Hellayne a mock, and of her name a memory, -and put Theodora's in its high place. Do you doubt my power to do as I -say?" - -"Verily I do believe that you love this pilgrim," Basil said sullenly. -"And while I am preparing the quake that shall tumble Alberic's -dominion into dust and oblivion, you are making him the happiest of -mortals. And deem you I will stand by and see yon dotard reap the -fruits of my endeavors and revel where I, your slave, am starving for a -look?" - -"Well have you chosen the word, my lord--my slave! For then were -Theodora indeed the puppet of a lust-bitten subject did she heed his -mad ravings and his idle plaints. Know, my lord, that my love is his to -whom I choose to give it, his who gives to me that in return which I -desire. And though I have drunk deep of the goblet of passion, never -has my heart beat one jot the faster, nor has the fire in my soul been -kindled until I met him whom this night I have summoned." - -"And deem you, fairest Theodora, that the sainted pilgrim will come?" -Basil interposed with an evil leer. - -An inscrutable smile curved Theodora's crimson lips. - -"Let that be my affair, my lord, but--that everything may be clear -between us--know this: when I summoned him, after he had spurned me on -the night when I intended to make him the happiest of men, it was to -torture him, to make a mock of him, to arouse his passions till they -overmastered all else, till in very truth he forgot his God, his honor, -and the woman for whose kisses he does such noble penance--but now--" - -"But now?" came the echo from Basil's lips. - -"Who says I shall not?" Theodora replied with her inscrutable smile. -"Who shall gainsay me? You--my lord?" - -There was a strange light in Basil's eyes, kindled by her mockery. - -"And when he kneels at your feet, drunk with passion--laying bare -his soul in his mad infatuation--who shall prevent this dagger from -drinking his heart's blood, even as he peers into the portals of bliss?" - -Theodora's eyes flashed lightnings. - -"I shall kill you with my own hands, if you but dare but touch one hair -of his head," she said with a calm that was more terrible than any -outburst of rage would have been. "He is mine, to do with as I choose, -and look well to it, my lord, that your shadow darken not the path -between us.--Else I shall demand of you such a reckoning as none who -may hear of it in after days shall dare thwart Theodora--either in love -or in hate." - -Basil's writhing form swayed to and fro; passion-tossed he tried in -vain to speak when she raised her hand. - -With a gesture of baffled wrath and rage Basil bowed low. A sudden -light leaped into his eyes as he raised her hand to his lips. Then he -retreated into the shadow of the kiosk. - -A moment later Tristan came within view, walking as one in a trance. -Mechanically he passed towards the banquet hall. Then he paused, -seeming to wait for some signal from within. - -A hand stole into his and drew him resistlessly into the shadows. - -"Why do you linger here? Behold where the moonlight calls." - -"Where is your mistress?" Tristan turned to the Circassian. - -A strange smile played on Persephoné's lips. - -"She awaits you in yonder kiosk," she replied, edging close to him. -"Take care you do not thwart her though--for to-day she strikes to -kill." - -"It is well," Tristan replied. "It must come, and will be no more -torture now than any other time." - -Persephoné gave a strange smile, then she led him through a cypress -avenue, at the remote end of which the marble kiosk gleamed white in -the moonlight. - -Pointing to it with white outstretched arm she gave him a mock bow and -returned to the palace. - -His lips grimly set, Tristan, insensible to the beauty of the summer -night, strode down the flower-bordered path. Woven sheets of silvery -moonlight, insubstantial and unreal, lay upon the greensward. The -sounds of distant lutes and harps sank down through the hot air. The -sky was radiant with the magic lustre of a great white moon, suspended -like an alabaster lamp in the deep azure overhead. Her rays invaded the -sombre bosquets, lighted the trellised rose-walks and cast into bold -relief against the deep shadows of palm and ilex many feathery fountain -sprays, crowning flower-filled basins of alabaster with whispering -coolness. - -The path was strewn with powdered sea shells and bordered on either -side with rare plants, filling the air with exquisite perfume. Between -thickets of yellow tufted mimosa and leafy bowers of acacia shimmered -the crystal surface of the marble cinctured lake, tinted with pale gold -and shrouded by pearl-hued vapors.--Pink and white myrtles, golden-hued -jonquils, rainbow tinted chrysanthema, purple rhododendrons, iris, -lilac and magnolia mingled their odors in an almost disconcerting orgy, -and rare orchids raised their glowing petals with tropical gorgeousness -from vases of verdigris bronze in the moonlight. - -At the entrance of the marble kiosk, there stood the immobile form of a -woman, half hidden behind a cluster of blooming orchids. - -The silver light of the moon fell upon the pale features of Theodora. -Her gaze was fixed upon the dark avenue of cypress trees, through which -Tristan was swiftly approaching. - -She stood there waiting for him, clad in misty white, like the -moonbeams, yet the byssus of her garb was no whiter than was the throat -that rose from the faultless trunk of her body, no whiter than her -wonderful hands and arms. - -Tristan's lips tightened. He had come to claim the scarf and dagger. -To-night should end it all. There was no place in his life for this -woman whose beauty would be the undoing of him who gave himself up to -its fatal spell. - -As he stood before her, a gleam of moonlight on his broad shoulders, -Theodora felt the blood recede to her heart, the while she gazed on his -set, yet watchful face. His silence seemed to numb her faculties and -her voice sounded strange as, extending her hand, she said: - -"Welcome, my Lord Tristan." - -He bowed low, barely touching the soft white fingers. - -"The Lady Theodora has been pleased to summon me and I have obeyed. I -am here to claim the dagger which was taken from me and the scarf of -blue samite." - -Theodora glanced at him for a moment, the blood drumming in her ears -and driving a coherent answer from her mind, while Tristan met her gaze -without flinching, with the memory of Hellayne in his heart. - -"Presently will I reveal this matter to you, my Lord Tristan," she said -at last. "Meanwhile sit you here beside me--for the night is hot, and I -have waited long for your coming." - -For a moment Tristan hesitated, then he took his seat beside her on the -marble bench, his brain afire, as he mused on all the treachery her -soft bosom held. - -"You look strangely at me, Tristan," she said in a low tone, dropping -all formality, "almost as if it gave you pain to sit beside me. Yet I -cannot think that a man like you has never rested beside a beautiful -woman in an hour of solitude and passion." - -A laugh, soft as the music of the Castalian fountain, fell on Tristan's -ear, but as he sat without answer, she continued, her face very close -to his: - -"Strange, indeed, my words may sound in your ears, Tristan--and -yet--can it be that you are blind as well as deaf to the call of the -Goddess of Love, who rules us all?" - -She paused, her lips ajar, her eyes alight with a strange fire, such -as he had seen therein on the night in the sunken gardens, beyond the -glimmering lake. - -"And what have I to give to you, Lady Theodora," he said at length. -"What can you expect from me, the giving of which would not turn my -honor to disgrace and my strength to water?" - -At his words she rose up and, towering her glorious womanhood above -him, glided behind the marble bench and, leaning hot hands upon his -shoulders, bent low her head, till strands of perfumed hair rested on -his tense features. - -"Do you love power, Tristan?" she said with low, yet vibrant voice. -"I tell you that, if you give yourself to me, there are no heights to -which the lover of Theodora may not climb. The way lies open from camp -to palace, from sword to sceptre, and, though the aim be high, at -least it is worth the risk. Steep is the path, but, though attainment -seems impossible, I tell you it is the wings of love that shall raise -you and bid you soar to flights of glory and rapture. I offer you -a kingdom, if you will but lay your sword at my feet and yet more -besides, for, Tristan, I offer you myself." - -The perfumed head bent lower and the scented cloud fell more thickly -upon him as he sat there, dazed and enchanted out of all powers of -resistance by the misty sapphire eyes that gleamed amid it, and seemed -to drag his soul from out of him. Now his head was pillowed on her soft -bosom and her white arms were about him, while lingering kisses burnt -on his unresponsive lips, when suddenly she faced round with a cry, -for there, directly before them in the clearing, stood a woman, whose -gleaming white robe, untouched by any color, save that of the violet -band that bound it round her shoulders, seemed one with the sun-kissed -hair, tied into a simple knot. - -Hellayne stood there as if deprived of motion, her blue eyes wide with -horror and pain, her curved lips parted, as if to speak, though no -sound came from them, until Tristan turned and, as their glances met, -he gave a strangled groan and buried his face in his hands. - -Theodora stood immobile, with blazing eyes and terrible face, then -she clapped her hands twice and at the sound two eunuchs appeared and -stood motionless awaiting their mistress' behest. For apace there was -silence, while Theodora glanced from the one to the other, quivering -from head to foot with the violence of the passion that possessed her, -casting anon a glance at Tristan who stood silent, with bowed head. - -At length she glided up to him and, as she laid her two white hands on -his broad shoulders, Tristan shuddered and felt a longing to make an -end of all her evil beauty and devilish cunning. Then, deliberately, -she took the scarf of blue samite, which lay beside her and put her -foot upon it. - -"This is very precious to you, Tristan, is it not?" she said in her -sweet voice, while her witching eyes sank into his. "I was about to -tell you how you might serve me, and deserve all the happiness that -is in store for you when I was interrupted by the appearance of this -woman. Can you tell me, who she is, and why she is regarding you so -strangely?" - -As she spoke she turned slowly towards Hellayne whose face was pale as -death. - -A spasm of rage shook Tristan, at the sight of the woman who regarded -him out of wide, pitiful eyes, but even as he longed to pierce the -heart of her who was striving to wreck all he held dear, Odo of Cluny's -warning seemed to clear his brain of the rage and hate that was -clouding it, and in that instant he knew, if he played his part, he -held in his hand the last throw in the dread game, of which Rome was -the pawn. - -"In all things will I do your bidding, Lady Theodora,--for who can -withstand your beauty and your enchantment?" said a voice that seemed -not part of himself. - -Theodora turned to Hellayne. - -"You have heard the words the Lord Tristan has spoken," she said in -veiled tone of mockery. "Tell me now, did you not know that I was -engaged upon matters of state when you intruded yourself into our -presence?" - -For a moment the blue eyes of Hellayne flashed swords with the dark -orbs of Theodora. There was a silence and the two women read each -other's inmost thoughts, Hellayne meeting Theodora's contemptuous scorn -with the keen look of one who has seen her peril and has nerved herself -to meet it. - -To Tristan she did not even vouchsafe a glance. - -"I followed one, perjured and forsworn," she said in tones that cut -Tristan's very soul, while a look of immeasurable contempt flashed from -her blue eyes. "You are welcome to him, Lady Theodora. I do not even -envy you his memory." - -Ere Theodora could reply, Hellayne, with a choking sob, turned and fled -down the moonlit path like some hunted thing, and ere either realized -what had happened she had vanished in the night. - -Tristan, dreading the worst, his soul bruised in its innermost -depths, cursing himself for having permitted any consideration except -Hellayne's life to interfere with his preconceived plans, started to -follow, when Theodora, guessing his purpose, suddenly barred his way. - -Ere he could prevent, she had thrown her arms about him and her -face upturned to his stormy brow she whispered deliriously, utterly -oblivious of two eyes that burnt from their sockets like live coals: - -"I love you! I love you!" and her whole being seemed ablaze with the -fire of an all-devouring passion. "Tristan, I love you with a love -so idolatrous, that I could slay you with these hands rather than be -spurned, be denied by you. Love me Tristan--love me! And I shall give -you such love in return as mortals have never known. I am as one in a -trance--I cannot see--I cannot think! I, the woman born to command--am -begging--imploring--I care not what you do with me--what becomes of me. -Take me!--I am yours--body and soul!" - -Her face was lighted up by the pale rays of the moon. But, though -his senses were steeped in a delirium that almost took from him his -manhood, the gloom but deepened on Tristan's brow, while with moist -hungry lips she kissed him, again and again. - -At last, seemingly on the verge of merging his whole being into her -own, he succeeded in extricating himself from the steely coils of those -white arms. - -"Lady Theodora," he said in cold and constrained tones, "I am too poor -to return even in part such priceless favors of the Lady Theodora's -love!" - -Stung in her innermost soul by his words, trembling from head to foot -with the violence of her emotions, she panted in a passion of anger and -shame. - -"You dare? This to me? Since then you will not love me--take this--" - -Above him, in her hand, gleamed his own unsheathed dagger. - -Tristan with a supple movement caught the white wrist and wrenched the -weapon from her. - -"The Lady Theodora is always true to herself," he said with cutting -irony, retreating from her in the direction of the lake. - -She threw out her arms. - -"Tristan--Tristan--forgive me! Come back--I am not myself." - -He paused. - -"And were you Aphrodite, I should spurn your love,--I should refuse to -kiss the lips, which a slave, a churl has defiled." - -"You spurn me," she laughed deliriously. "Perchance, you are right. And -yet," she added in a sadder tone, "how often does fate but grant us -the dream and destroy the reality. Go--ere I forget, and do what I may -repent of. Go! My brain is on fire. I know not what I am saying. Go!" - -As Tristan turned without response, a gleam of deadly hatred shone from -her eyes. For a long time she stood motionless by the kiosk, staring -as one in a trance down the long cypress avenue, whose shadows had -swallowed up Tristan's retreating form. - -The spectral rays of the moon broke here and there through the dense, -leafy canopy, and dream-like the distant sounds of harps and flutes -were wafted through the stillness of the starlit southern night. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE NET OF THE FOWLER - - -The appearance of Basil who had emerged from the kiosk and regarded -Theodora with a look in his pale, passion distorted features that -seemed to light up recesses in his own heart and soul which he himself -had never fathomed, caused the woman to turn. But she looked at the -man with an almost unknowing stare. Notwithstanding a self-control -which she rarely lost, she had not found herself. The incredible had -happened. When she seemed absolutely sure of the man, he had denied -her. Her ruse had been her undoing. For Hellayne's presence had -been neither accidental, nor had Hellayne herself brought it about. -The messenger who had summoned Tristan had skillfully absolved both -commissions. He was to have brought the woman to the tryst, that she -might, with her own eyes, witness her rival's triumph. In her flight -she had vanquished Theodora. - -Stealthily as a snake moves in the grass, Basil came nearer and nearer. -When he had reached Theodora's side he took the white hand and raised -it, unresisting, to his lips. His eyes sought those of the woman, but a -moment or two elapsed ere she seemed even to note his presence. - -He bent low. There was love, passion, adoration in his eyes and there -was more. Theodora had over-acted her part. He had seen the fire -in her eyes and he knew. It was more than the determination to make -Tristan pliable to her desires in the great hour when she was to enter -Castel San Angelo as mistress of Rome. He saw the abyss that yawned at -his own feet, and in that moment two resolves had shaped themselves in -Basil's mind, shadowy, but gaining definite shape with each passing -moment, and, while his fevered lips touched Theodora's hand, all the -evil passions in his nature leaped into his brain. - -Suddenly Theodora, glancing down at him, as if she for the first time -noted his presence, spoke. - -"Acknowledge, my lord, that I have attained my ends! For, had -it not been for the appearance of that woman, I should have -conquered--ay--conquered beyond a doubt." - -But when she looked at him she hardly recognized in him the man she -knew, so terribly had rage and jealousy distorted his countenance. - -"How can I gainsay that you have conquered, fairest Theodora," he said, -"when I heard the soft accents of your endearments and your panting -breath, as you drowned his soul in fiery kisses? 'Tis but another -poor fool swallowed up in the unsatisfied whirlpool of your desires, -another victim marked for the holocaust that is to be. But why did the -Lady Theodora cry out and bring the tender love scene to a close all -unfinished?" - -"By pale Hekaté, I had almost forgot the woman! Why did I permit her -to go without strangling her on the spot?" she cried, the growing -anger which the man's speech had aroused, brought to white heat in the -reminder. - -"The honor of being strangled by the fair hands of the Lady Theodora -may be great," sneered Basil. "Yet I question if the Lady Hellayne -would submit without a struggle even to so fair an opponent." - -"Why do you taunt me?" Theodora flashed. - -"Why?" he cried. "Because I witnessed another reaping the fruit of -the deeds I have sown--another stealing from me the love of the woman -I have possessed,--one, too, held in silken bondage by another's wife. -Rather would I plunge this knife into my own heart and--" - -Theodora's bosom heaved convulsively. - -"Put up your dagger, my lord," she said, with a wave of her hand. "For, -ere long, it shall drink its fill. Strange it is that I--the like of -whose beauty, as they tell me, is not on earth--should be conquered by -a woman from the North--that the fires of the South should be quenched -by Northern ice. I could almost wish that matters had run differently -between her and myself, for she is brave, else had she not faced me as -she did." - -"What else can you look for, Lady Theodora, from one sprung from such a -race?" replied the man sullenly. "I tell you, Lady Theodora, if you do -not ward yourself against her, she will vanquish you utterly, body and -soul." - -"The future shall decide between us. I am still Theodora, and it will -go hard with you, if you interpret my will according to your own -desires. I foresee that we shall have need of all our resources when -the hour tolls that shall see Theodora set upon the throne that is her -own, and then--let deeds speak, not words." - -"Since when have you found occasion to doubt the sureness of my blade, -Lady Theodora?" answered Basil, a dark look in his furtive eyes. - -"Peace, my lord!" interposed Theodora. "Why do you raise up the ghost -of that which has been between us? Bury the past, for the last throw -that is in the hands of destiny ends the game which has been played -round this city of Rome these many weary days." - -"And had you, Theodora, of a truth won over this Tristan," came the -dark reply, "so that one hour's delight in your arms would have caused -him to forget the world about him--what of me who has given to you the -love, the devotion of a slave?" - -At the words Theodora flung wide her shimmering arms and cried: - -"I tell you, my lord, that as I hold you and every man captive on whom -my charms have fallen, so shall I hold in chains the soul of this -Tristan, even though he resist--to the last." - -"Full well do I know the potency of your spell," answered Basil with -lowering eyes, "and, I doubt me, if such is the case. Nevertheless, -I warn you, Lady Theodora, not to place too great a share of this -desperate venture on the shoulders of one you have never proved." - -A contemptuous smile curved Theodora's lips as she rose from her seat. -With a single sweep her draperies fell from her like mist from a -snow-clad peak, and for the space of a moment there was silence, broken -only by Basil's panting breath. At last Theodora spoke. - -"Man's honor is so much chaff for the burning, when the darts of love -pierce his brain. With beauty's weapons I have fought before, and once -again the victory shall be mine!" - -There was an ominous light in Basil's eyes. - -"Beware, lest the victory be not purchased with the blood of one whom -your fickleness has chosen to sit in the empty seat of the discarded. -At the bidding of a mad passion have you been defeated." - -A flood of words surged irresistibly to Basil's lips, but at the sight -of Theodora's set face the words froze in the utterance. But when the -woman stared into space, her face showing no sign that she had even -heard his speech, he continued: - -"And when you are stretched out on a bed of torment and call for death -to ease your pain, let the bitterest pang be that, had you enlisted my -blade and cherished the devotion I bore you, this night's work would -have set the seal of victory on our perilous venture." - -"Blinded I have been," said Theodora, a strange light leaping to her -eyes, "to all the devotion which now I begin to fathom more clearly. -Answer me then, my lord! Is it only to slake the pangs of mad jealousy -that you taunt me with words which no man has dared to speak--and live?" - -The sheen of a drawn dagger flashed above his head. Basil faced the -death that lurked in Theodora's uplifted arm and he replied in an -unmoved voice: - -"Lady Theodora, if you harbor one single doubt in your mind of him who -has worked your will on those you consigned to their doom and laid -their proud heads low in the dust of the grave, let your blade descend -and quit me according to what I have deserved. Nay--Lady Theodora," he -continued, as her white arm still hovered tense above him, "it is quite -evident your love I never had, your trust I have lost! Therefore send -my soul to the dim realms of the underworld, for I have no longer any -desire for life." - -He was gazing up at her with eyes full of passionate devotion, when -of a sudden the blade dropped from her grasp, tinkling on the stone -beneath, and, burying her face in her hands, Theodora burst into an -agony of tears that shook her form with piteous sobbing. - -"By all the saints, dear lady, weep not," Basil pleaded, placing gentle -hands upon her shoulders. "Rather let your dagger do its work and drink -my blood, than that grief should thus undo you." - -"Truly had some evil spirit entered into me," she spoke at length in -broken accents, "else had I not so madly suspected one whose devotion -to me has never wavered. Can you forgive me, my lord, most trusted and -doubted of my friends?" - -With a fierce outcry the man cast himself at her feet, and, bending -low, kissed her hands, while, in tones, hoarse with passion, he -stammered: - -"Let me then prove my love, Lady Theodora, most beautiful of all women -on earth! Set the task! Show me how to win back that which I have -lost! Let me become your utter slave." - -And, so saying, he swept the unresisting woman into his grasp, and as -her body lay motionless against his breast the sight of her lips so -close to his own sent the hot blood hurtling through his fevered brain. - -Theodora shuddered in his embrace. - -He kissed her, again and again, and her wet lips roused in him all the -demoniacal passions of his nature. - -"Speak," he stammered, "what must I do to prove to you the love which -is in my heart--the passion that burns my soul to crisp, as the fires -of hell the souls of the damned?" - -Theodora's eyes were closed, as if she hesitated to speak the words -that her lips had framed. He, Tristan, had brought her to this pass. -He had denied, insulted her, he had made a mock of her in the eyes of -this man, who was kneeling at her feet, bond slave of his passions. By -his side no task would have seemed too great of accomplishment. And -whatever the fruits of her plotting he was to have shared them. How -she hated him; and how she hated that woman who had come between them. -As for him whose stammering words of love tumbled from his drunken -lips, Theodora could have driven her poniard through his heart without -wincing in the act. - -"If you love me then, as you say," she whispered at last, "revenge me -on him who has put this slight upon me!" - -A baleful light shone in Basil's eyes. - -"He dies this very night." - -She raised her hands with a shudder. - -"No--no! Not a quick death! He would die as another changes his -garment--with a smile.--No! Not a quick death! Let him live, but wish -he were dead a thousand times. Strike him through his honor. Strike him -through the woman he loves." - -For a pace Basil was silent. Could Theodora have read his thoughts at -this moment the weapon would not have dropped from her nerveless grasp. - -"Ah!" he said, and a film seemed to pass over his eyes in the -utterance. "There is nothing that shall be left undone--through his -honor--through the woman he loves." - -She utterly abandoned herself to him now, suffering his endearments and -kisses like a thing of stone and thereby rousing his passions to their -highest pitch. She could have strangled him like a poisonous reptile -that defiled her body, but, after having suffered his embrace for a -time, she suddenly shook herself free of him. - -"My lord--what of our plans? How much longer must I wait ere the -clarions announce to Rome that the Emperor's Tomb harbors a new -mistress? What of Alberic? What of Hassan Abdullah, the Saracen?" - -Basil was regarding her with a mixture of savage passion, doubt, -incredulity and something like fear. - -"The death-hounds are on Alberic's scent," he said at last, with -an effort to steady his voice, and hold in leash his feelings, -which threatened to master him, as his eyes devoured the woman's -beauty.--"Hassan Abdullah is even now in Rome." - -"Can we rely upon him and his Saracens when the hour tolls that shall -see Theodora mistress of Rome?" - -"Weighing a sack of gold against the infidel's treachery, it is safe to -predict that the scales will tip in favor of the bribe--so it be large -enough." - -"Be lavish with him, and if his heart be set on other matters--" - -She paused, regarding the man with an inscrutable look. Shrewd as he -was, he caught not its meaning. - -"Why not entrust to his care the Lady Hellayne?" - -The devilish suggestion seemed to find not as enthusiastic a reception -as she had anticipated. - -"After having seen the Lady Theodora," Basil said, his eyes avoiding -those of the woman, "I fear the Lady Hellayne will appear poor in -Hassan Abdullah's eyes." - -Theodora had grown pensive. - -"I do not think so. To me she seemed like a snow-capped volcano. All -ice without, all fire within. Perchance I should bow to your better -judgment, my lord, and perchance to Hassan Abdullah's, whose good taste -in preferring the Lady Theodora cannot be gainsaid. But, our guests are -becoming impatient. Take me to the palace." - -Basil barred the woman's way. - -"And when you have reached the summit of your desire, will you remember -certain nuptials consummated in a certain chamber in the Emperor's -Tomb, between two placed as we are and mated as we?" - -Theodora's lips curved in one of those rare smiles which brought him to -whom she gave it to her feet, her abject slave. - -"I shall remember, my lord," she said, and, linking her arm in his, -they strode towards the palace. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -DEVIL WORSHIP - - -The dawn of the following day brought in its wake consternation and -terror. From the churches of the two Egyptian Martyrs, Sts. Cosmas -and Damian, the Holy Host had been taken during the preceding night. -Frightened beyond measure, the ministering priests had suffered the -terrible secret to leak out, and this circumstance, coupled with the -unexplained absence of the Senator, the tardiness of the Prefect to -start his investigations, and the captivity of the Pontiff, threw the -Romans into a panic. It was impossible to guard every church in Rome -against a similar outrage, as the guards of the Senator were inadequate -in number, and, consisting chiefly of foreign elements, could not be -relied upon. - -The early hours of the morning found Tristan in the hermitage of Odo of -Cluny. To him he confided the incidents of the night and his adventure -in the Catacombs. To him he also imparted the terrible discovery he had -made. - -Odo of Cluny listened in silence, his face betraying no sign of the -emotion he felt. When Tristan had concluded his account he regarded him -long and earnestly. - -"I, too, have long known that all is not well, that there is something -brewing in this witches' cauldron which may not stand the light of -day.--" - -"But what is it?" cried Tristan. "Tell me, Father, for a great fear as -of some horrible danger is upon me; a fear I cannot define and which -yet will not leave me." - -Odo's face was calm and grave. The Benedictine monk had been listening -intently, but with a detached interest, as to some tale which, even if -it concerned himself, could not in the least disturb his equanimity. -With his supernormal quickness of perception he knew at once the powers -with which he had to cope. Tristan had told him of the devilish face in -the panel during the night of his first watch at the Lateran. - -"The powers of Evil at work are so great that only a miracle from -heaven can save us," he said at last. "Listen well, and lose not a word -of what I am about to say. Have you ever heard of one Mani, who lived -in Babylonia some seven hundred years ago and founded a religion in -which he professed to blend the teachings of Christ with the cult of -the old Persian Magi?" - -A negative gesture came in response. Tristan's face was tense with -anxiety. Odo continued: - -"According to his teachings there exist two kingdoms: the kingdom of -Light and the kingdom of Darkness. Light represents the beneficent -primal spirit: God. Darkness is likewise a spiritual kingdom: Satan and -his demons were born from the kingdom of Darkness. These two kingdoms -have stood opposed to each other from all eternity--touching each -other's boundaries, yet remaining unmingled. At last Satan began to -rage and made an incursion into the kingdom of Light. Now, the God of -Light begat the primal man and sent him, equipped with the five pure -elements, to fight against Satan. But the latter proved himself the -stronger, and the primal man was, for the time, vanquished. In time -the cult of the Manichæans spread. The seat of the Manichæan pope was -for centuries at Samarkand. From there, defying persecutions, the sect -spread, and obtained a foothold in northern Africa at the time of St. -Augustine. Thence it slowly invaded Italy." - -Tristan listened with deep attention. - -"The original creed had meanwhile been split up into numerous sects," -Odo of Cluny continued. "The followers of Mani believed there were -two Gods,--the one of Light, the other of Darkness, both equally -powerful in their separate kingdoms. But lately one by the name of -Bogumil proclaims that God never created the world, that Christ had -not an actual body, that he neither could have been born, nor that he -died, that our bodies are evil, a foul excrescence, as it were, of the -evil principle. Maintaining that God had two sons--Satan the older -and Christ the younger--they refuse homage to the latter, Regent of -the Celestial World, and worship Lucifer. And they hold meetings and -perform diabolical ceremonies, in which they make wafers of ashes and -drink the blood of a goat, which their devil-priests administer to them -in communion." - -Odo of Cluny paused and took a long breath, fixing Tristan with his -dark eyes. And when Tristan, stark with horror, dared not trust himself -to speak, Odo concluded: - -"This is the peril that confronts us! And Holy Church is without a -head, and the cardinals cannot cope with the terrible scourge. It is -this you saw, my son, and, had your presence been discovered, you would -never again have greeted the light of day." - -At last Tristan found his tongue. - -"God forbid that there should be such a thing, that men should worship -the Fiend." - -"Nevertheless they do," Odo replied, "and other things too awful for -mortal mind to credit." - -The perspiration came out on Tristan's brow. Although he was prepared -for matters of infinite moment and knew that this interview might -well be one of the decisive moments of his life, he yet possessed the -detached attitude of mind which was curious of strange learning and -information, even in a crisis. - -"And you have known this, Father?" he said at last, "and you have done -nothing to check the evil?" - -"We are living in evil times, my son," Odo replied. "I have long known -of the existence of this black heresy, which has slowly spread its -baleful cult, until it has reached our very shores. But that they would -dare to establish themselves in the city of the Apostle, this I was not -prepared to accept, until the terrible crime at the Lateran removed the -last doubt. And now I know that the foul thing has obtained a footing -here, and more than that, I know that some high in power are affiliated -with this society of Satan, that would establish the reign of Lucifer -among the Seven Hills. Did you not tell me, my son, of one, terrible -of aspect, who peered through the panel in the Capella Palatina on the -night of that first and most horrible outrage?" - -"One who looked as the Fiend might look, did he assume human guise," -Tristan confirmed with a nod. - -"The high priest of Satan," Odo returned, "a familiar of black -magic--the most terrible of all heinous crimes against Holy Church. A -wave of crime is rolling its crimson tide over the Eternal City such as -the annals of the Church have never recorded. It started in the reign -of Marozia, and Theodora is leagued with the fiend, as was her sister -before her." - -Odo paused for a moment, breathing deep, while Tristan listened -spellbound. - -"Have you ever pondered," he continued with slow emphasis, "why the -Lord Alberic entrusted to you, a stranger, so important a post as the -command of the Emperor's Tomb? That there may be one he does not trust -and who that one may be?" - -Tristan gave a start. - -"There is one I do not trust--one who seems to wrap himself in a poison -mist of evil--the Lord Basil." - -"Be wary and circumspect. Has he of late come to the Tomb?" - -"Three days ago--in company with a stranger from the North--one I may -not meet and again look upon heaven." - -"The woman's husband?" Odo queried with a penetrating glance. - -Tristan colored. - -"How these two met I cannot fathom." - -"Remember one thing, my son, their alliance portends evil to some one. -What did they in the crypts?" - -"The Lord Basil seems to have taken a fancy to exploring the cells," -Tristan replied. "Those who have followed him report that he holds -strange converse with the ghost of some mad monk whom he starved into -eternity." - -"And this converse--what is its subject?" Odo queried with awakening -interest. - -"A prophecy and a woman," Tristan replied. "Though those who heard them -were so terror stricken at their infectious madness that they fled--not -daring to tarry longer lest they would find themselves in the clutches -of the fiend." - -"A prophecy and a woman," Odo repeated pensively. "The Lord Alberic has -confided much in me--his fears--his doubts! For even he knows not, how -his mother came to her untimely end." - -"The Lady Marozia?" - -"The tale is known to you?" - -"Rumors--flimsy--intangible--" - -"One night she was mysteriously strangled. The Lord Alberic was almost -beside himself. But the mystery remained unsolved." - -After a pause Odo continued: - -"I, too, have not been idle. We must lull them in security! We must -appear utterly paralyzed. Our terror will increase their boldness. -Their ultimate object is still hidden. We must be wary. The Lord -Alberic must be informed. We must spike the bait." - -"I have despatched a trusty messenger in the guise of a peasant to the -shrine of the Archangel," Tristan interposed. - -"God grant that he arrive not too late," Odo replied. "And now, my son, -listen to my words. A great soul and a stout heart must he have who -sets himself to such a task as is before you! We are surrounded by the -very fiends of Hell in human guise. Speak to no one of what you have -seen. If you are in need of counsel, come to me!" - -Odo raised his hands, pronouncing a silent blessing over the kneeling -visitor and Tristan departed, dazed and trembling, wide-eyed and with -pallid lips. - -As he passed Mount Aventine the dark-robed form of a hunchback suddenly -rose like a ghost from the ground beside him and, approaching Tristan, -muttered some words in an unintelligible jargon. Believing he was -dealing with a beggar, Tristan was about to dismiss the ill-favored -gnome with a gift, which the latter refused, motioning to Tristan to -incline his ear. - -With an ill-concealed gesture of impatience Tristan complied, but his -strange interlocutor had hardly delivered himself of his message when -Tristan recoiled as if he had seen a snake in the grass before him, -every vestige of color fading from his face. - -"At the Lateran?" he chokingly replied to the whispered confidence of -the hunchback. - -The latter nodded. - -"At the Lateran." - -Ere Tristan could recover from his surprise, his informant had -disappeared among the ruins. - -For some time he stood as if rooted to the spot. - -It was too monstrous--too unbelievable and yet--what could prompt his -informant to invent so terrible a tale? - -At midnight, two nights hence, the consecrated wafer was to be taken -from the tabernacle in the Lateran! - -Perchance he had spoken even to one of the sect who had, at the last -moment, repented of his share in the contemplated outrage. - -If it were granted to him to deliver Rome and the world from this -terror! A strange fire gleamed in his eyes as he returned to Castel San -Angelo. - -Himself, he would keep the watch at the Lateran and foil the plot. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -BY LETHE'S SHORES - - -Basil the Grand Chamberlain was giving one of his renowned feasts in -his villa on the Pincian Mount. But on this evening he had limited the -number of his guests to two score. On his right sat Roger de Laval, -the guest of honor, on his left the Lady Hellayne. Over the company -stretched a canopy of cloth of gold. The chairs were of gilt bronze, -their arms were carved in elaborate arabesques. The dishes were of -gold; the cups inlaid with jewels. There was gayety and laughter. Far -into the night they caroused. - -Hellayne's face was the only apprehensive one at the board. She was -pale and worn, and her countenance betrayed her reluctance to be -present at a feast into the spirit of which she could not enter. She -was dimly conscious of the fact that Basil devoured her with his eyes -and her lord seemed to find more suited entertainment with the other -women who were present than with his own wife. Only by threats and -coercion had he prevailed upon her to attend the Grand Chamberlain's -banquet. With a brutality that was part of his coarse nature he now -left her to shift for herself, and she tolerated Basil's unmistakable -insinuations only from a sense of utter helplessness. - -Her beauty had indeed aroused the host's passion to a point where he -threw caution to the winds. The exquisite face, framed in a wealth -of golden hair, the deep blue eyes, the marble whiteness of the skin, -the faultless contours of her form--an ensemble utterly opposed to the -darker Roman type--had aroused in him desires which soon swept away -the thin veneer of dissimulation and filled Hellayne with a secret -dread which she endeavored to control. Her thoughts were with the man -by whom she believed herself betrayed, and while life seemed to hold -nothing that would repay her for enduring any longer the secret agonies -that overwhelmed her, it was to guard her honor that her wits were -sharpened and, believing in the adage that danger, when bravely faced, -disappears, she entered, though with a heavy heart, into the vagaries -of Basil, but, like a premonition of evil, her dread increased with -every moment. - -And now the host announced to his guests his intention of leaving Rome -on the morrow for his estate in the Rocca, where an overpunctilious -overseer demanded his presence. - -Raising his goblet he pledged the beautiful wife of the Count de Laval. -It was a toast that was eagerly received and responded to, and even -Hellayne was forced to appear joyous, for all that her heart was on the -point of breaking. - -She raised her goblet, a beautiful chased cup of gold, in -acknowledgment. But she did not see the ill-omened smile that flitted -over the thin lips of Basil, and she wished for Tristan as she had -never wished for him before. - -After a time the guests quitted the banquet hall for the moonlit -garden, and Basil's attentions became more and more insistent. It was -in vain Hellayne's eyes strained for her lord. He was not to be found.-- - -It was on the following morning when the horrible news aroused -the Romans that the young wife of the strange lord from Provence -had, during the night, suddenly died at the banquet of the Grand -Chamberlain. From a friar whom he chanced to pass on his way to the -Lateran Tristan received the first news. - -Fra Geronimo's face was white as death, and his limbs shook as with a -palsy. He had been the confessor of the Lady Hellayne, the only visitor -allowed to come near her. - -"Have you heard the tidings?" he cried in a quavering voice, on -beholding Tristan. - -"What tidings?" Tristan returned, struck by the horror in the friar's -face. - -"The Lady Hellayne is dead!" he said with a sob. - -Tristan stared at him as if a thunderbolt had cleft the ground beside -him. For a moment he seemed bereft of understanding. - -"Dead?" he gasped with a choking sensation. "What is it you say?" - -"Well may you doubt your ears," the friar sobbed. "But Mater -Sanctissima, it is the truth! Madonna Hellayne is dead. They found her -dead--early this morning--in the vineyard of the Lord Basil." - -"In the vineyard of the Lord Basil?" came back the echo from Tristan's -lips. - -"There was a feast, lasting well into the night. The Lady Hellayne took -suddenly ill. They fetched a mediciner. When he arrived it was all -over." - -"God of Heaven! Where is she now?" - -"They conveyed her to the palace of the Lord Laval, to prepare her for -interment." - -Without a word Tristan started to break away from the friar, his head -in a whirl, his senses benumbed. The latter caught him betime. - -"What would you do?" - -Tristan stared at him as one suddenly gone mad. - -"I will see her." - -"It is impossible!" the friar replied. "You cannot see her." - -From Tristan's eyes came a glare that would have daunted many a one of -greater physical prowess than his informant. - -"Cannot? Who is to prevent me?" - -"The man whom fate gave her for mate," replied the friar. - -"That dog--" - -"A brawl in the presence of death? Would you thus dishonor her memory? -Would she wish it so?" - -For a moment Tristan stared at the man before him as if he heard some -message from afar, the meaning of which he but faintly guessed. - -Then a blinding rush of tears came to his eyes. He shook with the agony -of his grief regardless of those who passed and paused and wondered, -while the friar's words of comfort and solace fell on unmindful ears. - -At last, heedless of his companion, heedless of his surroundings, -heedless of everything, he rushed away to seek solitude, where he would -not see a human face, not hear a human voice. - -He must be alone with his grief, alone with his Maker. It seemed to -him he was going mad. It was all too monstrous, too terrible, too -unbelievable. - -How was it possible that one so young, so strong, so beautiful, should -die? - -Friar Geronimo knew not. But his gaze had caused Tristan to shiver as -in an ague. - -He remembered the discourse of Basil and his companion in the galleries -of the Emperor's Tomb. - -Twice was he on the point of warning Hellayne not to attend Basil's -banquet. - -Each time something had intervened. The warning had remained unspoken. - -Would she have heeded it? - -He gave a groan of anguish. - -Hellayne was dead! That was the one all absorbing fact which had taken -possession of him, blotting out every other thought, every other -consideration. - -She was dead--dead--dead! The hideous phrase boomed again and -again through his distracted mind. Compared with that overwhelming -catastrophe what signified the Hour, the Why and the When. She was -dead--dead--dead! - -For hours he sat alone in the solitudes of Mount Aventine, where no -prying eyes would witness his grief. And the storm which had arisen and -swept the Seven Hilled City with the vehemence of a tropical hurricane -seemed but a feeble echo of the tempest that raged within his soul. - -She was dead--dead--dead. The waves of the Tiber seemed to shout it as -they leapt up and dashed their foam against the rocky declivities of -the Mount of Cloisters. The wind seemed now to moan it piteously, now -to shriek it fiercely, as it scudded by, wrapping its invisible coils -about him and seeming intent on tearing him from his resting place. - -Towards evening he rose and, skirting the heights, descended into the -city, dishevelled and bedraggled, yet caring nothing what spectacle he -might afford. And presently a grim procession overtook the solitary -rambler, and at the sight of the black, cowled and visored forms that -advanced in the lurid light of the waxen tapers, Tristan knelt in the -street with head bowed till her body had been borne past. No one heeded -him. They carried her to the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, and -thither he followed presently, and, in the shadow of one of the pillars -of the aisle, he crouched, while the monks chanted the funeral psalms. - -The singing ended the friars departed, and those who had formed the -cortege began to leave the church. In an hour he was alone, alone with -the beloved dead, and there on his knees he remained, and no one knew -whether, during that horrid hour, he prayed or blasphemed. - -It may have been toward the third hour of the night when Tristan -staggered up, stiff and cramped, from the cold stone. Slowly, in a -half-dazed condition, he walked down the aisle and gained the door of -the church. He tried to open it, but it resisted his efforts, and he -realized it was locked for the night. - -The appreciation of his position afforded him not the slightest dismay. -On the contrary, his feelings were rather of relief. At least there -was none other to share his grief! He had not known whither he should -repair, so distracted was his mind, and now chance or fate had settled -the matter for him by decreeing that he should remain. - -Tristan turned and slowly paced back, until he stood beside the great, -black catafalque, at each corner of which a tall wax taper was burning. -His steps rang with a hollow sound through the vast, gloomy spaces of -the cold and empty church. But these were not matters to occupy his -mind in such a season, no more than the damp, chill air which permeated -every nook and corner. Of all of these he remained unconscious in the -absorbing anguish that possessed his soul. - -Near the foot of the bier there was a bench, and there he took his seat -and, resting his elbows on his knees, took his dishevelled head between -his trembling hands. His thoughts were all of her whose poor, murdered -clay lay encased above him. In turn he reviewed each scene of his life -where it had touched upon her own. He evoked every word she had spoken -to him since they had again met on that memorable night. - -Thus he sat, clenching his hands and torturing his dull inert brain -while the night wore slowly on. Later a still more frenzied mood -obsessed him, a burning desire to look once more upon the sweet face -he had loved so well. What was there to prevent him? Who was there to -gainsay him? - -He arose and uttered aloud the challenge in his madness. His voice -echoed mournfully along the aisles and the sound of the echoes chilled -him, though his purpose gathered strength. - -Tristan advanced, and, after a moment's pause, with the silver -embroidered hem of the pall in his hands, suddenly swept off that -mantle of black cloth, setting up such a gust of wind as all but -quenched the tapers. He caught up the bench upon which he had been -sitting and, dragging it forward, mounted it and stood, his chest on -a level with the coffin lid. His trembling hands fumbled along its -surface. He found it unfastened. Without thought or care how he went -about the thing, he raised it and let it crash to the ground. It fell -on the stone flags with a noise like thunder, booming and reverberating -through the gloomy vaults. - -A form all in purest white lay there beneath his gaze, the face covered -by a white veil. With deepest reverence, and a prayer to her departed -soul to forgive the desecration of his loving hands, he tremblingly -drew the veil aside. - -How beautiful she was in the calm peace of death! She lay there like -one gently sleeping, the faintest smile upon her lips, and, as he -gazed, it was hard to believe that she was truly dead. Her lips had -lost nothing of their natural color. They were as red as he had ever -seen them in life. - -How could this be? - -The lips of the dead are wont to assume a livid hue. - -Tristan stared for a moment, his awe and grief almost effaced by the -intensity of his wonder. This face, so ivory pale, wore not the ashen -aspect of one that would never wake again. There was a warmth about -that pallor. And then he bit his nether lip until it bled, and it -seemed a miracle that he did not scream, seeing how overwrought were -his senses. - -For it had seemed to him that the draperies on her bosom had slightly -moved, in a gentle, almost imperceptible heave, as if she breathed. He -looked--and there it came again! - -God! What madness had seized upon him, that his eyes should so deceive -him! It was the draught that stirred the air about the church, and blew -great shrouds of wax down the taper's yellow sides. He manned himself -to a more sober mood and looked again. - -And now his doubts were all dispelled. He knew that he had mastered -any errant fancy, and that his eyes were grown wise and discriminating, -and he knew, too, that she lived! Her bosom slowly rose and fell; the -color of her lips, the hue of her cheek, confirmed the assurance that -she breathed! - -He paused a second to ponder. That morning her appearance had been such -that the mediciner had been deceived by it and had pronounced her dead. -Yet now there were signs of life! What could it portend, but that the -effects of a poison were passing off and that she was recovering? - -In the first wild excess of joy, that sent the blood tingling and -beating through his brain, his first impulse was to run for help. Then -Tristan bethought himself of the closed doors and he realized that, no -matter how loudly he shouted, no one would hear him. He must succour -her himself as best he could, and meanwhile she must be protected from -the chill night air of the church, cold as the air of a tomb. He had -his cloak, a heavy serviceable garment, and, if more were needed, there -was the pall which he had removed, and which lay in a heap about the -legs of the bench. - -Leaning forward Tristan slowly passed his hand under her head and -gently raised it. Then, slipping it downward, he thrust his arm after -it, until he had her round the waist in a firm grip. Thus he raised -her from the coffin, and the warmth of her body on his arms, the ready -bending of her limbs, were so many added proofs that she lived. - -Gently and reverently Tristan raised the supple form in his arms, an -intoxication of almost divine joy pervading him as the prayers fell -faster from his lips than they had ever since he had recited them on -his mother's knee. He laid her on the bench, while he divested himself -of the cloak. - -Suddenly he paused and stood listening with bated breath. - -Steps were approaching from without. - -Tristan's first impulse was to rush towards the door, shouting his -tidings and imploring assistance. Then, a sudden, almost instinctive -dread caught and chilled him. Who was it that came at such an hour? -What would any one seek in the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin at -dead of night? Was the church indeed their goal, or were they but -chance passers-by? - -That last question remained not long unanswered. The steps came nearer. -They paused before the door. Something heavy was hurled against it. -Then some one spoke. - -"It is locked, Tebaldo! Get out your tools and force it!" - -Tristan's wits were working at fever pace. It may have been that he was -swift of thought beyond any ordinary man, or it may have been a flash -of inspiration, or a conclusion to which he leapt by instinct. But in -that moment the whole problematical plot was revealed to him. Poisoned -forsooth she had been, but by a drug that but produced for a time the -outward appearance of death, so truly simulated as even to deceive the -most learned of doctors. Tristan had heard of such poisons, and here, -in very truth, was one of them at work. Some one, no doubt, intended -secretly to bear her off. And to-morrow, when men found a broken church -door and a violated bier, they would set the sacrilege down to some -wizard who had need of the body for his dark practices. - -Tristan cursed himself in that dark hour. Had he but peered earlier -into her coffin while yet there might have been time to save her. And -now? The sweat stood out in beads upon his brow. At that door there -were, to judge by the sound of their footsteps and voices, some five -or six men. For a weapon he had only his dagger. What could he do to -defend her? Basil's plans would suffer no defeat through his discovery -when to-morrow the sacrilege was revealed. His own body, lying cold and -stark beside the desolated bier, would be but an incident in the work -of profanation they would find; an item that in no wise could modify -the conclusion at which they would naturally arrive. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -THE DEATH WATCH - - -A strange and mysterious thing is the working of terror on the human -mind. Some it renders incapable of thought or action, paralyzing their -limbs and stagnating the blood in their veins; such creatures die in -anticipating death. Others, under the stress of that grim emotion have -their wits preternaturally sharpened. The instinct of self-preservation -assumes command and urges them to swift and feverish action. - -After a moment of terrible suspense Tristan's hands fell limply beside -him. At the next he was himself again. His cheeks were livid, his lips -bloodless. But his hands were steady and his wits under control. - -Concealment--concealment for Hellayne and himself--was the thing that -now imported, and no sooner was the thought conceived than the means -were devised. Slender means they were, yet since they were the best -the place afforded, he must trust to them without demurring, and pray -to God that the intruders might lack the wit to search. And with that -fresh hope it came to him that he must find a way as to make them -believe that to search would be a waste of effort. - -The odds against him lay in the little time at his disposal. Yet a -little time there was. The door was stout, and those outside might not -resort to violent means to break it open lest the noise arouse the -street. - -With what tools the sbirri were at work he could not guess, but surely -they must be such as to leave him but a few moments. Already they had -begun. He could distinguish a crunching sound as of steel biting into -wood. - -Swiftly and silently Tristan set to work. Like a ghost he glided round -the coffin's side, where the lid was lying. He raised it and, after he -had deposited Hellayne on the ground, mounted the bench and replaced -it. Next he gathered up the cumbrous pall and, mounting the bench once -more, spread it over the coffin. This way and that he pulled it, until -it appeared undisturbed as when he had entered. - -What time he toiled, the half of his mind intent upon his task, the -other half was as intent upon the progress of the workers at the door. - -At last it was done. Tristan replaced the bench at the foot of the -catafalque and, gathering up the woman in his arms, as though her -weight had been that of a feather, he bore her swiftly out of the -radius of the four tapers into the black, impenetrable gloom beyond. On -he sped towards the high altar, flying now as men fly in evil dreams, -with the sensation of an enemy upon them, and their progress a mere -stand still. - -Thus he gained the chancel, stumbling against the railing as he passed, -and pausing for an instant, wondering whether those outside had heard. -But the grinding sound continued and he breathed more freely. He -mounted the altar stairs, the distant light behind him feebly guiding -him on, then he ran round to the right and heaved a great sigh of -relief upon finding his hopes realized. The altar stood a pace or so -from the wall, and behind it there was just such a concealment as he -had hoped to find. - -Tristan paused at the mouth of that black well, and even as he paused -something that gave out a metallic sound, dropped at the far end of -the church. Intuition informed him that it was the lock which the -miscreants had cut from the door. He waited no longer, but like a deer -scudding to cover, plunged into the dark abyss. - -Hellayne, wrapped in his cloak, as she was, he placed on the ground, -then crept forward on hands and knees and thrust out his head, trusting -to the darkness to conceal him. - -He waited thus for a time, his heart beating almost audibly in the -intermittent silence, his head and face on fire with the fever of -sudden reaction. - -From his point of vantage it was impossible for Tristan to see the door -that was hidden in the black gloom. Away in the centre of the church, -an island of light in that vast well of blackness, stood the catafalque -with its four waxen tapers. Something creaked, and almost immediately -he saw the flames of those tapers bend toward him, beaten over by the -gust that smote them from the door. Thus he surmised that Tebaldo and -his men had entered. Their soft foot-fall, for they were treading -lightly now, succeeded, and at last they took shape, shadowy at first, -then clearly defined, as they emerged within the circle of the light. - -For a moment they stood in half whispered conversation, their voices -a mere boom of sound in which no words were to be distinguished. Then -Tristan saw Tebaldo step forward, and by his side another he knew by -his great height--Gamba, the deposed captain. Tebaldo dragged away, -even as Tristan had done, the pall that hid the coffin. Next he seized -the bench and gave a brisk order to his men. - -"Spread a cloth!" - -In obedience to his command, the four who were with him spread a cloak -among them, each holding one of its corners. Apparently they intended -to carry away the dead body in this manner. - -The sbirro now mounted the bench and started to remove the coffin lid, -when a blasphemous cry of rage broke from his lips that defied utterly -the sanctity of the place. - -"By the body of Christ! The coffin is empty!"-- - -It was the roar of an enraged beast and was succeeded by a heavy crash, -as he let fall the coffin lid. A second later a second crash waked the -midnight echoes of that silent place. - -In a burst of maniacal fury he had hurled the coffin from its trestles. - -Then he leaped down from the bench and flung all caution to the winds -in the rage that possessed him. - -"It is a trick of the devil," he shouted. "They have laid a trap for -us, and you have never even informed yourselves." - -There was foam about the corners of his mouth, the veins had swollen -on his forehead, and from the mad bulging of his eyes spoke fury and -abject terror. Bully as Tebaldo was, he could, on occasion, become a -coward. - -"Away!" he shouted to his men. "Look to your weapons! Away!" - -Gamba muttered something under his breath, words the listener's ear -could not catch. If it were a suggestion that the church should be -searched, ere they abandoned it! But Tebaldo's answer speedily relieved -his fears. - -"I'll take no chances," he barked. "Let us go separately. Myself first -and do you follow and get clear of this quarter as best you may." - -Scarcely had the echoes of his footsteps died away, ere the others -followed in a rush, fearful of being caught in some trap that was here -laid for them, and restrained from flying on the instant but by their -still greater fear of their master. - -Thanking Heaven for this miraculous deliverance, and for his own -foresight in so arranging matters as to utterly mislead the ravishers, -Tristan now devoted his whole attention to Hellayne. Her breathing had -become deeper and more regular, so that in all respects she resembled -one sunk into healthful slumber. He hoped she would waken before the -elapse of many moments, for to try to bear her away in his arms would -have been sheer madness. And now it occurred to him that he should -have restoratives ready for the time of her regaining consciousness. -Inspiration suggested to him the wine that should be stored in the -sacristy for altar purposes. It was unconsecrated, and there could be -no sacrilege in using it. - -He crept round to the front of the altar. At the angle a candle branch -protruded at the height of his head. It held some three or four tapers -and was so placed as to enable the priest to read his missal at early -Mass on dark winter mornings. Tristan plucked one of the candles from -its socket and, hastening down the church, lighted it from one of the -burning tapers of the bier. Screening it with his hand he retraced his -steps and regained the chancel. Then, turning to the left, he made for -a door which gave access to the sacristy. It yielded and he passed down -a short, stone flagged passage and entered a spacious chamber beyond. - -An oak settle was placed against one wall, and above it hung an -enormous, rudely carved crucifix. On a bench in a corner stood a basin -and ewer of metal, while a few vestments, suspended beside these, -completed the appointments of the austere and white-washed chamber. -Placing his candle on a cupboard, he opened one of the drawers. It was -full of garments of different kinds, among which he noticed several -monks' habits. Tristan rummaged to the bottom, only to find therein -some odd pairs of sandals. - -Disappointed, Tristan closed the drawer and tried another, with no -better fortune. Here were undervests of fine linen, newly washed and -fragrant with rosemary. He abandoned the chest and gave his attention -to the cupboard. It was locked, but the key was there. Tristan's candle -reflected a blaze of gold and silver vessels, consecrated chalices, and -several richly carved ciboria of solid gold, set with precious stones. -But in a corner he discovered a dark brown, gourd-shaped object. It was -a skin of wine and, with a half-suppressed cry of joy, he seized upon -it. - -At that moment a piercing scream rang through the stillness of the -church and startled him so that for some moments he stood frozen with -terror, a hundred wild conjectures leaping into his brain. - -Had the ruffians remained hidden in the church? Had they returned? Did -the screams imply that Hellayne had been awakened by their hands? - -A second time it came, and now it seemed to break the hideous spell -that its first utterance had cast over him. Dropping the leathern -bottle he sped back, down the stone passage to the door that abutted on -the church. - -There, by the high altar, Tristan saw a form that seemed at first but a -phantom, in which he presently recognized Hellayne, the dim rays of the -distant tapers searching out the white robe with which her limbs were -draped. She was alone, and he knew at once that it was but the natural -fear consequent upon awakening in such a place, that had evoked the cry -he had heard. - -"Hellayne!" he called, advancing swiftly to reassure her. "Hellayne!" - -There was a gasp, a moment's silence. - -"Tristan?" she cried questioningly. "What has happened? Why am I here?" - -He was beside her now and found her trembling like an aspen. - -"Something horrible has happened, my Hellayne," he replied. "But it is -over now, and the evil is averted." - -"What is it?" she insisted, pale as death. "Why am I here?" - -"You shall learn presently." - -He stooped, to gather up the cloak, which had slipped from her -shoulders. - -"Do you wrap this about you," he urged, assisting her with his own -hands. "Are you faint, Hellayne?" - -"I scarce know," she answered, in a frightened voice. "There is a black -horror upon me. Tell me," she implored again, "Why am I here? What does -it all mean?" - -He drew her away now, promising to tell her everything once she were -out of these forbidding surroundings. He assisted her to the sacristy -and, seating her upon a settle, produced the wine skin. At first she -babbled like a child, of not being thirsty, but he insisted. - -"It is not a matter of quenching your thirst, dearest Hellayne. The -wine will warm and revive you! Come, dearest--drink!" - -She obeyed him now, and having got the first gulp down her throat, she -took a long draught, which soon produced a healthier color, driving the -ashen pallor from her cheeks. - -"I am cold, Tristan," she shuddered. - -He turned to the drawer in which he had espied the monks' habits and -pulling one out, held it for her to put on. She sat there now in that -garment of coarse black cloth, the cowl flung back upon her shoulder, -the fairest postulant that ever entered upon a novitiate. - -"You are good to me, Tristan," she murmured plaintively, "and I have -used you very ill! You do not love that other woman?" She paused, -passing her hand across her brow. - -"Only you, dearest--only you!" - -"What is the hour?" she turned to him suddenly. - -It was a matter he left unheeded. He bade her brace herself, and take -courage to listen to what he was about to tell. He assured her that the -horror of it all was passed and that she had naught to fear. - -"But--how came I here?" she cried. "I must have lain in a swoon, for I -remember nothing." - -And then her quick mind, leaping to a reasonable conclusion, and -assisted perhaps by the memory of the shattered catafalque which she -had seen, her eyes dilating with a curious affright as they were turned -upon his own, she asked of a sudden: - -"Did you believe that I was dead?" - -"Yes," he replied with an unnatural calm in his voice. "Every one -believed you were dead, Hellayne." - -And with this he told her the entire story of what had befallen, saving -only his own part therein, nor did he try to explain his own opportune -presence in the church. When he spoke of the coming of Tebaldo and his -men she shuddered and closed her eyes. Only after he had concluded -his tale did she turn them full upon him. Their brightness seemed to -increase, and now he saw that she was weeping. - -"And you were there to save me, Tristan?" she murmured brokenly. "Oh, -Tristan, it seems that you are ever at hand when I have need of you! -You are, indeed, my one true friend--the one true friend that never -fails me!" - -"Are you feeling stronger, Hellayne?" he asked abruptly. - -"Yes--I am stronger!" - -She rose as if to test her strength. - -"Indeed little ails me save the horror of this thing. The thought of it -seems to turn me sick and dizzy." - -"Sit then and rest!" he enjoined. "Presently, when you feel equal to -it, we shall start out!" - -"Whither shall we go?" she asked. - -"Why--to the abode of your liege lord." - -"Why--yes--" she answered at length, as though it had been the last -suggestion she had expected. "And when he returns," she added, after -a pause, "he will owe you no small thanks for your solicitude on my -behalf." - -There was a pause. A hundred thoughts thronged Tristan's mind. - -Presently she spoke again. - -"Tristan," she inquired very gently, "what was it that brought you to -the church?" - -"I came with the others, Hellayne," he replied, and, fearing such -questions as might follow--questions he had been dreading ever since he -brought her to the sacristy, he said: - -"If you are recovered, we had better set out." - -"I am not yet sufficiently recovered," she replied. "And, before we go, -there are a few points in this strange adventure that I would have you -make clear to me! Meanwhile we are very well here! If the good fathers -do come upon us, what shall it signify?"-- - -Tristan groaned inwardly and grew more afraid than when Basil's men had -broken into the church an hour ago. - -"What detained you after all had gone?" - -"I remained to pray," he answered, with a sense of irritation at her -persistence. "What else was there to do in a church?" - -"To pray for me?" - -"Assuredly." - -"Dear, faithful heart," she murmured. "And I have used you so cruelly. -But you merited my cruelty--Tristan! Say that you did, else must I -perish of remorse." - -"Perchance I deserved it," he replied. "But perchance not so much as -you bestowed, had you understood my motives," he said unguardedly. - -"If I had understood your motives?" she mused. "Ay--there is much I do -not understand! Even in this night's business there are not wanting -things that remain mysterious, despite the elucidations you have -supplied. Tell me, Tristan--what was it that caused you to believe, -that I still lived?" - -"I did not believe it," he blundered like a fool, never seeing whither -her question led. - -"You did not?" she cried, with deep surprise, and now, when it was too -late, he understood. "What was it then that induced you, to lift the -coffin lid?"-- - -"You ask me more than I can tell you," he answered almost roughly, for -fear lest the monks would come at any moment. - -She looked at him with eyes that were singularly luminous. - -"But I must know," she insisted. "Have I not the right? Tell me now! -Was it that you wished to see my face once more before they gave me -over to the grave?" - -"Perchance it was, Hellayne," he answered. Then he suggested their -going, but she never heeded his anxiety. - -"Do you love me then so much, dearest Tristan?" - -He swung round to her now, and he knew that his face was white, whiter -than the woman's had been when he had seen her in the coffin. His -eyes seemed to burn in their sockets. A madness seized upon him and -completely mastered him. He had undergone so much that day of grief, -and that night the victim of a hundred emotions, that he no longer -controlled himself. As it was, her words robbed him of the last -lingering restraint. - -"Love you?" he replied, in a voice that was unlike his own. "You are -dearer to me than all I have, all I am, all I ever hope to be! You are -the guardian angel of my existence, the saint to whom I have turned -mornings and evenings in my prayers! I love you more than life!" - -He paused, staggered by his own climax. The thought of what he had -said and what the consequences must be, rushed suddenly upon him. He -shivered as a man may shiver in waking from a trance. He dropped upon -his knees before her. - -"Forgive," he entreated. "Forgive--and forget!" - -"Neither forgive nor forget will I," came her voice, charged with an -ineffable sweetness, such as he had never before heard from her lips, -and her hands lay softly on his bowed head as if she would bless and -soothe him. "I am conscious of no offence that craves forgiveness, and -what you have said to me I would not forget if I could. Whence springs -this fear of yours, dear Tristan? Has not he to whom I once bound -myself in a thoughtless moment, he who never understood, or cared to -understand my nature, he whose cruelty and neglect have made me what I -am to-day, lost every right, human or divine? Am I more than a woman -and are you less than a man that you should tremble for the confession -which, in a wild moment, I have dragged from you? For that wild moment -I shall be thankful to my life's end, for your words have been the -sweetest that my poor ears have ever listened to. I count you the -truest friend and the noblest lover the world has ever known. Need it -surprise you then, that I love you, and that mine would be a happy life -if I might spend it in growing worthy of this noble love of yours?" - -There was a choking sensation in his throat and tears in his eyes. -Transport the blackest soul from among the damned in Hell, wash it -white of its sins and seat it upon one of the glorious thrones of -Heaven,--such were the emotions that surged through his soul. At last -he found his tongue. - -"Dearest," he said, "bethink yourself of what you say! You are still -his wife--and the Church grants no severance of the bonds that have -united two for better or worse." - -"Then shall we see the Holy Father. He is just and he will be merciful. -Will you take me, Tristan, no matter to what odd shifts a cruel Fortune -may drive us? Will you take me?" - -She held his face between her palms and forced his eyes to meet her -eyes. - -"Will you take me, Tristan?" she said again. - -"Hellayne--" - -It was all he could say. - -Then a great sadness overwhelmed him, a tide that swept the frail bark -of happiness high and dry upon the shores of black despair. - -"To-morrow, Hellayne, you will be what you were yesterday." - -"I have thought of that," she said, a slight flutter in her tone. -"But--Hellayne is dead.--We must so dispose that they will let her rest -in peace."-- - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE CONVENT IN TRASTEVERE - - -He stared at her speechless, so taken was he with the immensity of the -thing she had suggested. Fear, wonder, joy seemed to contend for the -mastery. - -"Why do you look at me so, Tristan?" she said at last. "What is it that -daunts you?" - -"But how is this thing possible?" he stammered, still in a state of -bewilderment. - -"What difficulty does it present?" she returned. "The Lord Basil -himself has rendered very possible what I suggest. We may look on him -to-morrow as our best friend--" - -"But Tebaldo knows," he interposed. - -"True! Deem you, he will dare to tell the world what he knows? He might -be asked to tell how he came by his knowledge. And that might prove a -difficult question to answer. Tell me, Tristan," she continued, "if he -had succeeded in carrying me away, what deem you would have been said -to-morrow in Rome when the coffin was found empty?"-- - -"They would naturally assume that your body had been stolen by some -wizard or some daring doctor of anatomy." - -"Ah! And if we were quietly to quit the church and be clear of Rome -before morning--would not the same be said?" - -He pondered a while, staggered by the immensity of the risk, when -suddenly a memory flashed through his mind that left his limbs numb as -if they had been paralyzed by a thunderbolt. - -It was the night on which the terrible crime at the Lateran was to be -committed. Even now it could not be far from the midnight hour. Did he -dare, even for the consideration of the greatest happiness which the -world and life had to give, to forego his duty towards the Church and -the Senator of Rome? - -Hellayne noted his hesitancy. - -"Why do you waste precious moments, Tristan?" she queried. "Is it that -you do not love me enough?" - -A negative gesture came in response, and his eyes told her more than -words could have expressed. - -At last he spoke. - -"If I hesitate," he said, trying to avoid the real issue, instead of -stating it without circumlocution, "it is because I would not have you -do now of what, hereafter, you might repent. I would not have you be -misled by the impulse of a moment into an act whose consequences must -endure while life endures." - -"Is that the reasoning of love?" she said very quietly. "Is this cold -argument, this weighing of issues consistent with the hot passion you -professed so lately?" - -"It is," he replied. "It is because I love you more than I love myself, -that I would have you ponder, ere you adventure your life upon a broken -raft such as mine. You are still the wife of another." - -"No!" she replied, her eyes preternaturally brilliant in the intensity -of her emotion. "Hellayne, the wife of Roger de Laval, is dead--as -dead to him, as if she in reality were bedded in the coffin. Where is -he? Where is the man who should have been where you are, Tristan? I -venture to say his grief did not overburden him. He will find ready -consolation in the arms of another for the wife who was to him but -the plaything of his idle hours. He never loved me! He even threatened -to shut me up within convent walls for the rest of my days if I did -not return with him--his mistress,--his wife but in a name, a thing -to submit to his loathsome kisses and caresses, while her soul is -another's. He himself and death, which perchance he himself decreed, -have severed bonds no persuasion would have tempted me to break. -Tristan, I am yours--take me." - -She held out her beautiful arms. - -He was in mortal torment. - -"Nevertheless, Hellayne, to-night of all nights it may not be--" he -stammered. "Listen, dearest--" - -"Enough!" she silenced him, as she rose. She swept towards him and, -before he knew it, her hands were on his shoulders, her face upturned, -her blue eyes holding his own, depriving him of will and resistance. - -"Tristan," she said, and there was an intensity almost fierce in her -tones, "moments are fleeting, and you stand there reasoning with me and -bidding me weigh what already is weighed for all time. Will you wait -until escape is rendered impossible, until we are discovered, before -you will decide to save me and to grasp with both hands the happiness -that is yours; this happiness that is not twice offered in a lifetime?" - -She was so close to him that he could almost feel the beating of -her heart. He was now as wax in her hands. Forgotten were all -considerations of rank and station. They were just man and woman whose -fates were linked together irrevocably. Under the sway of an impulse he -could not resist, he kissed her upturned face, her lips, her eyes. Then -he broke from her clasp and, bracing himself for the task to which they -stood committed by that act, he said, the words tumbling from his lips: - -"Hellayne, we know not who is abroad to-night. We know not what -dangers are lurking in the shadows. Tebaldo and his men may even now be -scouring the streets of Rome for a fugitive, and once in their power -all the saints could not save us from our doom. I know not the object -of this plot of which you were the victim, and even the Lord Roger -may be but the dupe of another. I will take you to the convent of the -Blessed Sisters of Santa Maria in Trastevere, that you may dwell there -in safety until I have ascertained that all danger is past. You shall -enter as my sister, trying to escape the attention of an unwelcome -suitor. But the thing that chiefly exercises my mind now is how to make -our escape unobserved." - -Hellayne nodded dreamily. - -"I have thought of it already." - -"You have thought of it?" he replied. "And of what have you thought?" - -For answer she stepped back a pace and drew the cowl of the monk's -habit over her head until her features were lost in the shadows. Her -meaning was clear to him at once. With a cry of relief he turned to -the drawer whence he had taken the habit in which she was arrayed and, -selecting another, he hastily donned it above the garments he wore. - -No sooner was it done than he caught her by the arm. - -There was no time to be lost. Moments were flying. - -If he should be too late at the Lateran! - -"Come!" he said in an urgent voice. - -At the first step she stumbled. The habit was so long that it cumbered -her feet. But that was a difficulty soon overcome. Without regarding -the omen, he cut with his dagger a piece from the skirt, enough to -leave her freedom of movement and, this accomplished, they set out. - -They crossed the church swiftly and silently, then entered the porch, -where he left her in order to peer out upon the street. All was quiet. -Rome was wrapt in sleep. From the moon he gleaned it wanted less than -an hour to midnight. - -Drawing their cowls about their faces, they abandoned the main streets, -Tristan conducting his charge through narrow alleys, deserted of the -living. These lanes were dark and steep, the moonlight being unable to -penetrate the chasms formed between the tall, ill-favored houses. They -stumbled frequently, and in some places he carried her almost bodily, -to avoid the filth of the quarter they were traversing. - -The night was solemn and beautiful. Myriads of stars paved the deep -vault of heaven. The moon, now in her zenith, hung like a silver lamp -in the midst of them; a stream of quivering, rosy light, issuing from -the north, traversed the sky like the tail of some stupendous comet, -sending forth, ever and anon, corruscations like flaming meteors. - -At last they reached the Transtiberine region and the convent of -Santa Maria in Trastevere hove into sight. The range of habitations -around were in a ruinous state and the whole aspect of the region was -so dismal as to encourage but few ramblers to venture there after -nightfall. - -Passing through the ill-famed quarter of the Sclavonians, where, in -after time, one of the blackest crimes in history was committed, -Tristan and Hellayne at last arrived before the gates of the convent. -They had spoken but little, dreading even the faintest echo of their -footsteps might bring a pursuer on their track. Their summons for -admission was, after a considerable wait, answered by the porter of -the gate, who, upon seeing two monks, relinquished his station by the -wicket and descended to inquire into their behest. - -Hellayne shrank up to Tristan, as the latter stated their purpose and -the old monk, unable to understand the jargon of his belated caller, -withdrew, mumbling some equally unintelligible reply. - -Hellayne's eyes were those of a frightened deer. - -"What will he do, Tristan?" she whispered, "Oh, Tristan, do not leave -me! I feel I shall never see you again, Tristan--my love--take me -away--I am afraid--" - -He held her close to him. - -"There is nothing to fear, my Hellayne! To-morrow night I shall return -and place you safely where we may see each other till I have absolved -my duties to the Senator. Do not fear, sweetheart! Of all the abodes -in Rome the sanctity of the convent is inviolate! But I hear steps -approaching--some one is coming. Courage, dearest--remember how much is -at stake!" - -Another moment and they stood before the Abbess of Santa Maria in -Trastevere. - -Summoning all his presence of mind, Tristan told his tale and made -his request. Danger lurking in the infatuation of a Roman noble was -threatening his sister. She had fled from his innuendos and begged the -convent's asylum for a brief space of time, when he, Tristan, would -claim her. He explained Hellayne's attire, and the Abbess, raising the -woman's head, looked long and earnestly into her face. - -What she saw seemed to confirm of the truth of Tristan's speech, and -she agreed readily to his request. Tristan kissed Hellayne on the brow, -then, after a brief and affectionate farewell and the assurance that he -would return on the following day, he left her in charge of the Blessed -Sisters. With a sob she followed the Abbess and the gates shut behind -them. - -For a moment Tristan felt as if all the world about him was sinking -into a dark bottomless pit. - -Then, suppressing an outcry of anguish, his winged feet bore him across -Rome towards the Basilica of St. John in Lateran. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE PHANTOM OF THE LATERAN - - -It still lacked a few minutes of midnight when Tristan arrived at the -Lateran. The guard had been set in all the chapels, as on the night -when he had kept the watch before. - -Without confiding his purpose to any one, he traversed the silent -corridors until he came to the chapel where he was to watch all night. - -The men-at-arms were posted outside the door. A lamp was burning in the -corridor, and strict orders had been given that no person whatsoever -was to pass into the chapel. - -After assuring himself that all was secure, Tristan seated himself in a -chair which stood in the centre of the chapel. - -The place was dim and ghostly. A red lamp burnt before the Blessed -Sacrament, and from the roof of the chapel hung another lamp of bronze. -The light was turned low, but it threw a slight radiance upon portions -of the mosaic of the floor. - -Tristan unbuckled his sword and placed it ready to hand. The whole of -the Basilica was hushed in sleep. There was a heaviness and oppression -in the air, and no sound broke the stillness in the courts of the -palace. - -Memory flared up and down like the light of a lamp, as Tristan pondered -over the changes and vicissitudes of his life, with all its miseries -and heart-aches, as he thought of the future and of Hellayne. Danger -encompassed them on every side. But there had been even greater -terrors when he had plucked her from the very grip of Death, from the -midst of her foes. - -And then he began to pray, pray for Hellayne's happiness and safety, -and his whispering voice sounded as if a dry leaf was being blown over -the marble floor, and when it ceased the silence fell over him like a -cloak, enveloping him in its heavy, stifling folds. - -He had been on guard in the Lateran before, but the silence had never -seemed so deep as it was now. His mind, heated and filled with the -events of the past days, would not be tranquil. And yet there was a -deadly fascination in this profound silence, in which it seemed his own -mind and the riot of his thoughts were living and awake. - -What, if even now some lurking danger were approaching through the -thousand corridors and anterooms of the palace! For on this night the -enemies of Christ were abroad, silently unfurling the sable banners of -Hell. - -The thought was almost unbearable. It was not fear which Tristan felt, -rather a restlessness he was unable to control. Although the night was -no hotter than usual, perspiration began to break out upon his face, -and he felt athirst. The fumes of incense that permeated the chapel, -increased his drowsiness. - -With something of an effort Tristan strode to the door and opened it. -In the corridor two men-at-arms were on guard, one standing against -the wall, the other walking slowly to and fro. The men reported that -all was well, and that no one had passed that way. Tristan closed the -door and returned inside. He walked up the chapel's length and then, -his drawn sword beside him on the marble, knelt in prayer before the -Blessed Sacrament which he had come to guard. - -There, for a little, his confused and restless mind found peace. - -But not for long. - -A drowsiness more heavy and insistent than any he had ever known -began to assail him. It billowed into his brain, wave after wave. It -assailed him with an irresistible, physical assault. He fought against -it despairingly and hopelessly, knowing that he would be vanquished. -Once, twice, sword in hand, as though the long blade could help him in -the fight, he staggered up and down the chapel. Then, with a smothered -groan, he sank into the chair, the sword slipping from his grasp. He -felt as if deep waters were closing over him. There was a sound like -dim and distant drums in his ears, a sensation of sinking, lower, ever -lower,--then utter oblivion. - -And now silence reigned, silence more intense than his mind had ever -known. - -The red lamp burned before the Host. The lamp in the centre of the -chapel threw a dim radiance upon the bowed form of Tristan, whose sword -crossed the mosaics of the floor. - -Silence there was in the whole circuit of the Lateran. - -Even the Blessed Father, prisoner in his own chamber, was asleep. The -domestic prelates, the whole vast ecclesiastical court were wrapt in -deep repose. - -In the chapel of St. Luke the silence was broken by the deep breathing -of Tristan. It was not the breathing of a man in healthy sleep. It -was a long-drawn catching at the breath, then once more a difficult -inhalation. The men-at-arms outside in the corridor heard nothing of -it. The sound was confined to the interior alone. - -The ceiling of the chapel was painted, and the various panels were -divided by gilded oak beadings. - -Almost in the centre, directly above where Tristan reposed in leaden -slumber, was a panel some two feet square, which represented in faint -and faded colors the martyrdom of St. Sebastian. - -Suddenly, without a sound, the panel parted. - -If the sleeper had been awake he would have seen almost at his feet a -swaying ladder of silk rope, which for a moment or two hissed back and -forth over the tesselated floor. - -Now the dark square in the painted ceiling became faintly illumined. -In its dim oblong a formless shape centred itself. The faint hiss from -the end of the silken rope ladder recommenced and down the ladder from -the roof of the chapel descended a formless spectre, with incredible -swiftness, with incredible silence. - -The spider had dropped from the centre of its web. It had chosen the -time well. It was upon its business. - -The trembling of the rope ladder ceased. Without a sound the black -figure emerged into the pale light thrown by the central lamp. The -figure was horrible. It was robed in deepest black, and as it made a -quick bird-like movement of the head, the face, plucked as from some -deadly nightmare, was so awful that it seemed well that Tristan was -unconscious. - -The High Priest of Satan stood in the chapel of the Lateran. His quick, -dexterous fingers ran over Tristan's sleeping form. Then he nodded -approvingly. - -There was a soft pattering of steps and now the black form passed out -of the circle of light and emerged into the red light of the lamp, -which burned before the altar. - -Above, upon the embroidered frontal, were the curtains of white silk -edged with gold--the gates of the tabernacle. - -A long, lean arm, hardly more than a bone, drew apart the curtains. -Mingling with the heavy breathing of the sleeping man there was a sharp -sound, most startling in the intense silence. - -It was a bestial snarl of satisfaction. It was followed by abominable -chirpings of triumph, cold, inhuman, but real. - -Tristan slept on. The men-at-arms kept their faithful watch. In the -whole of the Lateran Palace no one knew that the High Priest of Satan -was prowling through the precincts and had seized upon his awful prey. - -He thrust the Holy Host into a silver box, and placed it next to his -bosom. Then he drew a wafer of the exact size and shape of the stolen -Host from the pocket of his robe. Gliding over to Tristan he thrust -this unconsecrated wafer into his doublet. - -Then the black bat-like thing mounted to the ceiling. The lemon-colored -light reappeared for a moment. In its glare the dark phantom looked -terrific, like a fiend from Hell. The rope ladder moved silently -upwards, and the painted panel with the arrow-pierced Sebastian dropped -soundlessly into its place. - -The red lamp burnt in front of the tabernacle. But the chapel was empty -now. - -At dawn the unexpected happened. - -The guards, expecting to be relieved, found themselves face to face -with a special commission, come to visit the Lateran. It consisted -of the Cardinal-Archbishop of Ravenna, the Cardinal of Orvieto, the -Prefect of the Camera and Basil the Grand Chamberlain. - -After having made the rounds they at last arrived before the chapel of -St. Luke. They found the two men-at-arms stationed at the door, alert -at their post. The men were exhausted; their faces appeared grey and -drawn in the morning light, but they reported that no one had passed -into the chapel, nor had they seen anything of Tristan since midnight, -when he had questioned them. - -The doors of the chapel were locked. Tristan held the keys. Repeated -knocks elicited no response. - -The Archbishop of Ravenna looked anxiously at the Prefect of the Camera. - -"I do not like this, Messer Salviati," he said in a low voice. "I fear -there is something wrong here." - -"Beat upon the door more loudly," the Prefect turned to one of the -halberdiers, and the man struck the solid oak with the staff of his -axe, till the whole corridor, filled with the ghostly advance light of -dawn, rang and echoed with the noise. - -The Prefect of the Camera turned to the Archbishop. - -"It would seem the Capitano has fallen asleep. That is not a thing he -ought to have done--but as the chapel seems inviolate we need hardly -remain longer." - -And he looked inquiringly at the Grand Chamberlain. - -The latter shook his head dubiously. - -"I fear the Capitano can hardly be asleep, since we have called him so -loudly," he said, looking from the one to the other. "I would suggest -that the door of the chapel be forced." - -They were some time about it. The door was of massive oak, the lock -well made and true. A man-at-arms had been despatched to another part -of the Lateran to bring a locksmith who, for nearly half an hour, -toiled at his task. - -It was accomplished at last and the four entered the chapel. - -It stretched before them, long, narrow, almost fantastic in the grey -light of morning. - -The painted ceiling above held no color now. The mosaics of the -floor were dead and lifeless. In the centre of the chapel, with face -unnaturally pale, sat Tristan, huddled up in the velvet chair. By his -side lay his naked sword. - -The lamp which was suspended from the centre of the ceiling had almost -expired. - -In front of the altar the wick, floating on the oil, in its bowl of red -glass, gave almost the only note of color against the grey. - -As they entered the chapel, the four genuflected to the altar. And -while the Prefect and Basil went over to where Tristan was sleeping in -his chair, and stood about with alarmed eyes, the Cardinal of Orvieto -and the Archbishop of Ravenna approached the tabernacle with the proper -reverences, parted the curtains and staggered back, indescribable -horror in their faces. - -The Holy Host had disappeared. - -The priests stared at each other in terror. What did it mean? Again the -Body of Our Lord had been taken from His resting-place. The captain of -the guard was asleep in his chair. Verily the demons were at work once -more and Hell was loosed again. - -The Archbishop of Ravenna began to weep. He covered his face with his -hands. As he knelt upon the altar steps, great tears trickled through -his trembling fingers, while he sent up prayers to the Almighty that -this sacrilege might be discovered and its perpetrators brought to -justice. On either side of him knelt the priests who had come into the -chapel after them. Their hearts were filled with fear and sorrow. - -The Cardinal of Ravenna rose at last. - -His old, lean face shone with holy anger and sorrow. - -"An expiatory service will be held in this chapel before noon," he -addressed those present. "I shall myself say Mass here. Meanwhile the -whole of the palace must be aroused. Somewhere the emissaries of Satan -have in their possession the Blessed Sacrament. See that the secret -Judas does not escape us!" - -Almost upon his words there came a loud wail of anguish from the centre -of the chapel where Tristan was still huddled in his chair. - -Basil had opened the doublet at his neck, as if to give him air, and -the Prefect of the Camera, who was standing by, clapped his hands to -his temples, and groaned like a soul in torment. - -The two ecclesiastics hurried down from the altar steps. - -Upon the lining of Tristan's doublet there lay the large round wafer, -which every one present believed to be the consecrated Host. - -The Cardinal-Archbishop reverently took the wafer from Tristan and held -it up in two hands. - -The men-at-arms sank to their knees with a rattle and ring of -accoutrement. - -Every one knelt. - -Then in improvised procession, His Eminence restored the wafer to the -tabernacle. - -Tristan was dragged out of the chapel. - -In the corridor horror-stricken men-at-arms buffeted him into some -sort of consciousness. His bewildered ears caught the words: "To San -Angelo," as he staggered between the men-at-arms as one in the thrall -of an evil dream, leaving behind him a nameless fear and horror among -the monks, priests and attendants at the Lateran. - -END OF BOOK THE THIRD - -BOOK THE FOURTH - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE RETURN OF THE MOOR - - -In a domed chamber of the Emperor's Tomb there sat two personages -engaged in whispered conversation, Basil and a weird hooded phantom -that seemed part of the dread shadows which crowded in upon the room, -quenching the dying light of day. Deep silence reigned. Only the -monotonous tread of the sentries broke the stillness as they made the -rounds above them. - -It was Basil who spoke. - -"All is going well! We shall prevail! We shall set up the throne of -Ebony in the stead of the Cross. I bow to your wisdom, my master! The -promised reward shall not fail you!" - -As he spoke, the thin, black arm of his vis-a-vis trembled for a moment -in the ample folds of his black gown. Then, with a quick, bird-like -movement, a thin hand, twisted like a claw, wrinkled and yellow, was -stretched out towards the Grand Chamberlain. - -On the second finger of this claw there was a ring. Basil bent and -kissed it. - -Basil began to speak in his ordinary, conversational tone, but there -was a strange gleam in his eyes. - -"It has been accomplished," he said. "They tell me all Rome is astir!" - -The voice that replied seemed to come from a great distance; the lips -of the waxen face hardly moved. They parted, that was all. - -"It has been done! I took it myself! It was the Host which the Cardinal -of Ravenna had consecrated on that morning." - -"And you were not seen?" - -"I was not," came the whispered reply. "As a measure of precaution I -wore the mask which I use to go about the churches at night. I met no -one." - -"Is it here?" Basil queried eagerly. - -"It is not here," replied the voice. "It must be kept until the night -of the great consecration, when Lucifer himself shall sit upon the -ebony throne and demand his bride--his stainless dove. Where is she -now?" - -The light had faded out of Basil's eyes, and his face was ashen. - -"One has been found, worthy of even as fastidious a master as he, whom -we both serve. Well-nigh had she escaped us, had not one who never -fails me tracked her on that fatal night, when her body lay in her -coffin ready to be consecrated to the Nameless one." - -From the eyeless sockets of the shadow-mask a phosphorescent gleam shot -towards the Grand Chamberlain. - -"What of the man?" - -"The wafer was discovered on a certain captain of the guard who hath -crossed my path to his undoing once too often. The Church herself shall -pronounce sentence upon him--through me!" - -"And--that other?" - -There was a pause. - -"Her husband!--He deems her dead, nor grieves he overmuch, believing, -as he does, that her love was another's--even his whom I have marked -for certain doom. I have it in my mind to try what a jest will do for -him." - -The lurid tone of the speaker seemed to impress even his shadowy -companion. - -"A jest?" - -"He shall attend the great ceremony," Basil explained. "And he shall -behold the stainless dove. When is it to be?" he added after a pause. - -"When is it to be?" - -"Six nights hence--on the night of the full moon." - -"And then you shall give to me that which I crave, and the forfeit -shall be paid." - -"The forfeit shall be paid," the voice re-echoed from the shadows, and -to Basil it seemed as if the damp, cold breath from an open grave had -been wafted to his cheeks. - -Like a phantom that sinks back into the night of the grave, whence it -had emerged, Bessarion vanished from the chamber. In his place stood -Hormazd, who had noiselessly entered through a panel in the wall. - -Basil greeted him with a silent nod. - -"What of the messenger?" he turned to the Oriental. - -"He returns within the hour," replied the voice. - -"What are his tidings?" Basil queried eagerly. "Is Alberic in the land -of shadows, where she dwells who gave him birth?" - -"Sent by the same relentless hand across the Styx," the cowled figure -spoke, yet Basil knew not whether it was a question or a statement. - -He gave a start. - -"Tell me, how are secrets known to you at which Hell itself would -pale?" he turned with unsteady tone to his companion. - -"Those of the shadows commune with the shadows," came the enigmatical -reply. "Is everything prepared?" - -"When the brazen tongue from the Capitol tolls the hour, the blow shall -fall," Basil replied. "Hassan Abdullah and his Saracens are anchored -off the port of Ostia. The Epirotes and Albanians in the Senator's -service are bribed to our cause. Rome is in the throes of mortal -terror. Even the Monk of Cluny is under the spell, and has ceased -to arraign the Scarlet Woman of Babylon. The dread of the impending -judgment day will succor our cause. And--once installed within these -walls as master of Rome--with Theodora by my side--you shall have full -sway, to do whatever your dark fancies may prompt. You shall have a -chamber and a laboratory and be at liberty to roam at will through your -devil's kitchen." - -The cowled figure gave a silent nod, but, before he could speak, the -door leading into the chamber opened as from the effect of a violent -gust of wind, and a shapeless form, that seemed half human, half ape, -flew at Basil's feet, who recoiled as if a ghost had arisen before him -from the floor. - -For a moment Basil stared from Daoud the Moor to his shadowy visitor, -then he bade the runner arise and commanded him in some Eastern tongue -to unburden himself. - -With many protestations of his devotion the monster produced a bundle -which Basil had not noted, owing to the swiftness with which the -African had entered the chamber. Panting, with deft, though trembling -fingers, Daoud untied the cords and a bloody head, severed from its -trunk, rolled upon the floor of the chamber, and lay still at Basil's -feet. It had lost all human semblance and exhaled the putrid odor of -the grave. - -Basil started to his feet, staring from the Moor to Hormazd. - -"Dead--" his pale lips stammered. Then, turning to his dark companion, -he added by way of encouragement to himself: - -"You gave me truth!" - -Daoud was cowering on the floor, his eyes staring into the shadows, -where hovered the Persian's almost invisible form. - -A nod from Basil caused him to rise. - -"Away with it!" shrieked the Grand Chamberlain overcome with terror. -"See that no one sets eyes upon it!" - -The Moor wrapped the severed head into the blood-stained cloth and -darted from the chamber. - -Then Basil turned to his visitor. - -"In six days Rome shall hail a new master! Let then the sable banners -of Hell be unfurled and the Nameless Presence rejoice upon his ebony -throne! And now do you come with me into the realms of doom that gape -below, that your eyes may be gladdened by that which is in store for -you!" - -Taking up a torch, Basil lighted it with the aid of two flints and the -twain trooped out of the chamber into the shadowy corridor leading into -the crypts of the Emperor's Tomb. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE ESCAPE FROM SAN ANGELO - - -Hidden away in some secret vault of the great honey-colored Mausoleum -Tristan found himself when the men-at-arms had departed, and he had -regained his full senses. Color had faded out of everything. The -rock walls were lifeless and grey. The immense silence of the tomb -surrounded him. The rayless gloom was without relief, save what sparse -light filtered through a narrow grated window so high in the wall that -nothing could be seen from below, save the sky. - -The torture of it all he could have endured very well. There was -something greater. It was the thought of Hellayne. This dreadful -uncertainty swung like a bell in his brain, cut through the fibre -of his being. And when these thoughts came over him in his lone -confinement he beat his hands upon the stone and wept. - -They had placed him in a cell, which seemed to have been hollowed out -of the Travertine rock. It was small, built in the thickness of the -mighty Roman walls. Tristan set his teeth hard, prepared to endure. He -knew well enough what it meant. He would be confined in this living -tomb till his enemies thought his spirit was broken, and then he would -be summoned before a tribunal of the Church. - -Once a day, and once only, the door of his cell opened. By the smoky -light of a torch, his gaoler pushed a pitcher of water and a machet of -bread into his prison. Then the red light died and darkness and silence -supervened. Yet it was not the ordinary darkness which men know. -Through the haunted chambers of Tristan's mind fantastic forms began -to chase each other, evil things to uncoil themselves and raise their -heads. More and more drearily the burden of the days began to press -upon him. What availed heroic endurance? - -But it was not only darkness, nor was it only despair. Nor was it -only silence. It was a strange impalpable something which haunted his -restless, enforced vigil; a dim inchoate nothingness, that drove him to -the verge of madness. Though day draped the sky with blue and golden -banners, to tell the sons of men that Night was past and they need not -longer fear, for Tristan darkness was not a transient thing, but an -awful negation of hope. - -All of this Tristan could have endured, had not the thought of Hellayne -unnerved him utterly. - -She was safe--so he hoped--in the Convent of Santa Maria in Trastevere. -But, as hour succeeded hour, his assurance began to pale. Everything -had been arranged with the Abbess. But--had she indeed eluded her -pursuers? The empty coffin had no doubt long been discovered. Did they -believe she was dead, or did the hand who had dealt the blow in the -dark, the vigilant eye that had pursued her every step, plot further -mischief? - -He thought of Odo of Cluny. The monk was influential, but there was, at -this hour, in Rome, one even more powerful, and he doubted not but that -by his agency the wafer had been placed into his doublet, though the -events of that fateful night from the time he had entered the Lateran, -were like a black blot upon his memory. - -Had Odo even sought admission to his cell? Did he, too, believe him -guilty? Had his ears, too, been poisoned by the monstrous lie? To him -he might indeed have turned; of him he might have received assurance -of Hellayne's fate; and in return he might have reassured her who was -pining at the Convent of Santa Maria in Trastevere. - -But, was she ignorant indeed of what was happening in the seven-hilled -city of Rome? Would not the rumor of the terrible outrage committed at -the Lateran knock even at the silent walls of the convent? A captain of -the Senator's guard caught red-handed in the perpetration of a crime -too heinous for the human mind to conceive! - -He reviewed his own life, the close of which seemed very near at hand. -Free from cunning and that secret conceit which is peculiarly alarming -to natures that know themselves to be, in all practical matters, -confounded and confused, he had, in a short time, found himself placed -upon the world's greatest stage, a world little fit for dreamers and -for dreams. He had been plunged into the inner circles of the mighty -struggle, impending between Powers of Light and the Powers of Darkness, -upon a sea he knew not how to navigate, and upon whose cliffs his ship -had stranded. - -One evening, when the cold greyness of an early twilight had enveloped -the city, and from the darkening sky every now and then was heard a -sound of approaching thunder, Tristan, counting the weary hours of his -unbroken solitude, which he could but measure by the appearance and -departure of his gaoler, had been more restless than usual. He had -hoped to be summoned for early trial before those high in the Church, -when, in Odo of Cluny, he would find an advocate, who alone might save -him from his doom. But nothing had happened. Nothing had broken the -dreary, maddening monotony, save now and then the shriek and curses of -a maddened fellow-prisoner, or the moans of a wretch who was dying of -thirst or hunger. - -Whoever the powers that dominated his life, they evidently had not -decreed his immediate death, as if they were rejoicing in the torture -of false hopes which each recurrent day waked in his breast, and which -each departing day extinguished. The food never varied, and the water -intended for the cleansing of his body was so sparse that he had to -husband it as a precious possession till the gaoler refilled the bronze -ewer on the succeeding day. - -When waking from feverish, troubled slumbers, broken by the squeaking -of the rats that scurried over the filthy floor of his dungeon, and -other presences that caused him to pray for a speedy death from this -slow torture, he found himself nevertheless listening for the approach -of the gaoler who, after dispensing his bounty, departed as he had -come, silent as the tomb, without making reply to Tristan's queries. - -Escape, to all appearances, seemed quite beyond the scope of -possibility. Yet, with failing hopes, the spirit of Tristan seemed to -rise. Had not his good fortune been with him ever since he arrived at -Rome? Had he not, by some miraculous decree of destiny, again met the -woman he loved better than all the world? And then, they had left him -his dagger. After all, not such wretched company in his present plight. - -It was on the eve of the third day when the voices of men coming down -the night-wrapt passage struck his wakeful ear. - -In one of the speakers he recognized Basil. - -"And you are quite sure no one saw you enter?" he said to his companion. - -"No one!" came the snarling reply. "Nevertheless--they are on my track. -I breathe the air of the gibbet which burns my throat." - -"And you are positive no one recognized you?" spoke the silken voice. - -"No one." - -"Take courage, Hormazd. Then there is little danger, yet you should -take care that no one may see you. We are surrounded by spies." - -"Do you not trust Maraglia?" - -"I trust none! You will therefore remain a short time concealed in this -subterranean passage." - -"Subterranean?" - -There was a note of terror in the Oriental's voice. - -"That is to say--the vaults! Here you will find honorable and pleasant -company, who will not betray you. You will find straw in abundance and -each day Maraglia will bring you something to eat. Go slowly. How do -you like the abode?" - -"Not even the devil can find me here." - -"No one will find you here!" - -"No one knows where I am," Hormazd interposed dubiously. - -"Nor ever shall." - -"It is of no consequence. So I am safe." - -"You are safe enough. Lower your head and take care not to stumble over -the threshold. Here--this side--enter." - -"Enter," re-echoed the other. Then there was a pause. - -"It is very evident, you are afraid--" - -"Afraid? No--but I am thinking we always know when we enter such -places--never when we shall leave them." - -"How? Did I not say to-morrow night?" - -"But if you should not come for me?" - -"What profit would your death be to me? Where shall I find another -wizard to bring to foretell the death of another Alberic?" - -Tristan gave an audible gasp at these words. He felt his limbs grow -numb. Had his ears heard aright? Surely they had not. Some demon had -mocked him, to drive him mad. Ere he could regain his mental balance, -the voice of the Grand Chamberlain's companion again struck his ear. - -"But if you should not come, my lord?" - -"You could scream!" - -"What would that avail?" - -"Mind you--I might have to stay here myself for sheltering such a -patriarch as you." - -"Nevertheless--to guard against all risks--leave the door open--" - -He entered, but the door turned immediately upon its hinges. - -"My Lord Basil--" shrieked Hormazd, "the door is shut--" - -"I stumbled against it." - -"Bring a light--open the door--" came a muffled voice from within. - -"I shall soon return." - -"Do not forget the light." - -"Light!--Ay! You shall not want for light,--if what I say be not false: -Et lux perpetua luceat eis," chanted the Grand Chamberlain in Requiem -measure, as he strode away. - -Silence, deep and sepulchral, succeeded. Tristan cowered on the floor, -his face covered with his hands. If what he had overheard was true, -he, too, was lost. What had happened? Who was the Grand Chamberlain's -companion? - -Now Hormazd began to scream and rave in the darkness. Terrible -execrations broke from the Oriental's lips, as he hurled his body -against the iron bars of his prison cell. Demoniacal yells waked the -silent echoes. The other prisoners, alarmed and rendered restless, soon -joined in, and soon the dark vaults of the Emperor's Tomb resounded -with a veritable pandemonium, a chorus of the damned that caused -Tristan to put his fingers to his ears lest he, too, go mad. - -At nine o'clock that night the last visit was to be paid the prisoners. -At nine o'clock Maraglia, the Castellan, came, attended by the -guard, which waited outside. The Castellan was in a state of nervous -excitement. As he entered Tristan's cell he looked about, as if he -dreaded a listener, then he approached his prisoner and whispered -something into his ear. - -For a moment Tristan knew not what has happening to him. Was he alone -with a mad man and was Maraglia too possessed?-- - -The Castellan, to prove his assertion that he was a bat, began -forthwith to squeak, and waved his arms, as if they were wings. - -Curious stories were told about Maraglia. No one knew, why he had -retained his post so long amidst ever recurring changes, and it was -whispered that he was subject to strange possessions of the mind. He -faced his prisoner nervously, fingering a poniard in his belt. Tristan -watched his every gesture. - -A little foam came out of the corners of Maraglia's lips. He wrung his -hands and his voice rose into a sort of shriek. He jerked his head half -round towards the men-at arms outside in the gallery. The screams of -Hormazd continued. - -"It is the Ape of Antichrist," he whispered to Tristan. "I have a mind -to try conclusions with him. Close the door." - -Tristan's wits, preternaturally sharpened in his predicament put words -in his mouth which he seemed unable to account for. He had heard rumors -of the Castellan. Perchance he might turn his madness to account. - -"I can tell you much," he said. "But not here! But one thing I -perceive. You are approaching one of your bad spells." - -Maraglia shrank back against the door. His face was pale as death. - -"Then you know?" he squeaked. - -Tristan nodded. The torch which the Castellan had placed in an iron -holder that projected from the wall, was burning low and the resinous -fumes filled the cell. - -"Something I know--but not all! Yet, I believe I can cure you--" - -"I am about to turn into a bat! And when I go abroad I scream like -a bat--in a thin, high pitched tone. And I flap my arms--and fly -away--thus--" - -Tristan nodded wisely. - -"I know the symptoms--they are of Satan. Nevertheless, I can cure you." - -"Without conference with the evil powers?" - -Tristan pondered. - -"You shall not imperil your soul! But--take heed! It is well that you -have spoken to me of these matters. For, from feeling that you are a -bat, a bat you will become." - -Maraglia was pale as a ghost. - -"Then I was just in the nick of time?" - -"You are already half immersed," Tristan replied in a deep and menacing -tone. "Take heed lest you be utterly drowned." - -The Castellan shivered as one in an ague. - -"Every Friday at midnight the Black Mass is said by one Bessarion, that -is of unthinkable age--a hideous wizard and High Priest of Satan. It is -he who has cast the spell over me." - -Hope mounted high in Tristan. The alert confidence of his companion -animated him and he felt almost as if the great ordeal was over. A -distant bell was tolling. Its tones came in muffled cadence into the -night wrapt corridors of the Emperor's Tomb. - -Nevertheless he shivered at the Castellan's confession. Maraglia, then, -was under the spell of this Wizard of Hell. - -"I have seen him stalking through these galleries," he turned to his -gaoler. "But I possess a spell which renders him harmless. He cannot -touch me--nor breathe his evil breath into my soul. I can compel him to -take away the spell he has cast over you--that is, if you so wish it." - -The Castellan squeaked and waved his arms. - -"You would do this for me?" - -"If you will not betray me. For only a more powerful spell than that -which he possesses can take away the curse he has put upon you." - -"Ah! If you would do this! It is coming upon me now. I am going mad. I -am a bat!" - -And Maraglia squeaked like a whole company of dusky mice, and flapped -his arms as if he were about to fly away. - -"This very night will I do it," Tristan replied. "But you must help me." - -"What can I do?" - -Tristan cast all upon one throw. - -"Remove your guards from this corridor and leave me a light and a rope." - -"It is but reasonable," Maraglia returned. "I will fetch them. When -appears the wizard?" - -"At midnight! See that I am not disturbed." - -Maraglia nodded. Fear had almost deprived him of his senses. - -"Last time I saw him he came from yonder corridor," Tristan informed -the Castellan. - -"That may not be!" the latter replied. "Unless he hath wings. This -passage leads to the ramparts." - -"It is possible I have been confused by the darkness," Tristan replied -pensively. "Nevertheless, I will oblige you, Messer Maraglia." - -The Castellan retired with many manifestations of his gratitude, -leaving Tristan in possession of a lantern, a candle and a coil of rope. - -It was midnight. - -The sharp click of a flint upon steel was repeated several times -before a spark fell upon the tinder and it caught with a blue, ghostly -flicker. There were strange reflections in Tristan's cell. Curious -steely lights played upon him. - -Then the candle ignited. The glow widened out. Tristan peered about -cautiously. The door of his cell had been left unfastened by Maraglia. -He had no fear of his prisoner escaping. No one had ever escaped from -these vaults, except to certain death. - -He crept out into the corridor. It was dark as in the realms of the -underworld. The silence of the tomb prevailed. After a time the passage -made a sharp turn at right angles. A cooler air blew upon his face, -wafted through an unbarred embrasure, beyond which showed a star-lit -night without a moon, but not wholly dark. - -Drawing himself up into the embrasure he stood at last upon a broad -sill of stone. A cool breeze eddied around him. He was at an immense -height. A vast portion of Rome lay below. The Tiber seemed like a river -of lead. Far away to the left the dark cypresses of the Pincian Hill -cut into the night sky in sombre silhouette. He was above the tombs of -Hadrian and Caracalla. - -Tristan shivered despite himself as he fastened the rope he had secured -from the unwary Castellan to the stone ledge. It was not fear; but that -actual, physical shrinking, which induces nausea, had him in its grip. - -"There is Rome," he said to himself with a savage chuckle. - -He made a stirrup loop and curved it round a boss of antique tile, -which stretched above the abyss like a gargoyle. Then, with infinite -precaution, he lowered the coil of rope. - -Dawn was already heralded in the East. A faint grey light appeared in -the direction of the Alban Hills. From over the Esquiline came the -shrill trumpeting of a cock. - -There was a horrible moment as Tristan's hands left the roof edge and -he fell a foot to grasp the rope. He curled his legs about it, got it -between his crossed feet and began to let himself down. The sinews of -his arms seemed to creak. Once he passed an open window and distinctly -heard the snores of the men-at-arms who were sleeping within. The -descent seemed interminable. As seen from above, had there been any one -to watch him, his form grew less and less. From a man it seemed to turn -into an ape; from an ape as a night bird groping down the Mausoleum's -side; from a bird it dwindled to a spider, spinning downward on a taut -thread. Up there, on the height, the rope groaned and creaked upon -the curved tile from which it hung. But tile and fibre held. Once his -feet rested upon a leaden water pipe and he clung and swayed, glad of -a momentary release from the frightful strain upon his arms. That was -almost the last conscious sensation. Clinging to the rope he came down -quick and more quickly. His arms rose and fell with the precision of a -machine. At last he felt his feet upon solid ground, where he reeled -and staggered like a drunken man. - -He had traversed a hundred thirty-five feet of air. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE LURE - - -For three whole days Hellayne consumed herself waiting for Tristan, and -she began to feel listless and dispirited. She had long acknowledged -to herself the necessity of his presence, and how much his love -had influenced her thoughts and actions ever since she had known -him--a period that now seemed of infinite length. She found herself -perpetually recalling the origin and growth of this love. She dwelt -with a strange pleasure on her terrible plight, when, believing she was -dead, he had remained with her body. As evening approached she strolled -down to the Tiber, with a strange persistency and the vague expectation -of Tristan's return. She now trusted him utterly, since that last and -most potent proof of his love for her. - -On the first day this dreamy, imaginative existence was delightful. -The region of the Trastevere at the period of our story was but -sparsely populated, and the great convent, with its church of Santa -Maria, dominated the lowly fisher huts, scattered over its precincts. -Hellayne, during these quiet evening hours, when only the sounds of -far-off chimes from churches and convents smote the silence with their -silver tongues, and during which hours the Abbess of Santa Maria -permitted her to leave the silent walls of her asylum for a short walk -to the Tiber's edge, rarely ever saw a human being. Only at dusk, when -the fishermen and boatmen returned from their daily routine, she saw -them pass in the distance, like phantoms that come and go and vanish in -the evening glow. - -On the second day there came a feeling of want; the consciousness that -there was a void which it would be a great happiness to fill. This -grew to a longing for those hours which had glided by so quickly and -sweetly. At intervals there came the startling thought: if she should -never see him again! Then her heart stopped beating, and her cheek -paled with the thought of the bare possibility. - -Thus the third day sped, and when Hellayne still remained without -tidings from Tristan her anxiety slowly changed to a great fear. -She could hardly contain herself during the long hours of the day, -and though she spent hours and hours in prayer for his return, her -heart seemed to sink under the weight of her fear and sorrow. She -was alone--alone in Rome--exposed to dangers which her great beauty -rendered even more grave than those that beset an ordinary person. -She feared lest Basil was scouring the city for the woman who had -so mysteriously baffled his desires, and she dreaded the hatred of -Theodora, whose infatuation for her lover had rather increased than -diminished in the face of Tristan's resistance. How long would he be -able to withstand, if Theodora had decreed his undoing? - -There were moments when a mad jealousy and despair surged up in -Hellayne's heart, yet she hesitated to confide her fears and anxiety -to the Abbess, voicing only her disquietude at Tristan's prolonged -absence. Then only the latter informed Hellayne of a strange rumor -which had found its way into the Trastevere. Three nights ago a -terrible sacrilege had been committed at the Lateran, during the small -hours of the night, and on the following morning, during an inspection -by some high prelates of the Church, the criminal had been discovered -in the person of a captain of the Senator's guard, who had but recently -arrived in Rome, and had been placed in high command by the Senator -himself, whom he had so cruelly betrayed. - -Three nights ago! It was on the night of the terrible crime from whose -consequences she had been saved just in the nick of time. With painful -minuteness Hellayne recalled, or tried to recall, every incident, -every detail, every utterance of her lover. But there was nothing at -which she could clutch save--but it was sheer madness. Surely it was -some horrid nightmare. Again she sought the Abbess, later in the day, -questioning her regarding the name of him who had been taken in the -commission of so heinous an offence. It was some time ere the Abbess -could recall a name strange in her own land, and Hellayne, with the -persistency of desperation, withheld any aid, so as not to offer a clue -to the one she dreaded to hear. But the strain proved too great. Almost -with a shriek she demanded to know if, perchance, the name was Tristan. -The Abbess regarded her questioner strangely. "Tristan is the name. Do -you know this man, my child?" - -Hellayne was on the point of fainting. Everything grew black before her -eyes, and she would have fallen, had not the Abbess supported her. - -"A countryman of mine," she said, dreading lest by revealing their -connection she might herself be held in custody. "He came to Rome on -a pilgrimage. Surely there is some horrible mistake! He could not! He -could not!" - -The Abbess placed an arm round the trembling girl. - -"If he can prove that he is innocent, the Cardinal-Archbishop will -not suffer a hair of his head to be touched," she tried to console -Hellayne whose head rested on her shoulder. She seemed utterly crushed. -Surely--it was too monstrous--too unbelievable. Yet as the moments sped -on, an icy, sickening fear gripped her heart. She recalled an incident -of that last evening with Tristan which, but for what had happened or -was rumored to have happened, she would have utterly ignored. She had -noted her lover's restlessness, and his apparent haste in leaving her -at the convent gates. She recalled now that he repeatedly glanced at -the moon and did, at one time, comment upon the lateness of the hour. -He had not seemed anxious to prolong their tete-a-tete, and he had not -been heard from in three days. Surely, no matter where he was, he could -have sent a message, verbal or otherwise. And the crime had happened -during the small hours of the night--after he had left her! It was too -horrible to ponder upon! - -That there was some dreadful mystery which surrounded this deed of -darkness and Tristan's share therein, Hellayne did not question. But -how was she, a woman, a stranger, alone in Rome, to aid in clearing it -up and reveal her lover's innocence? There was no doubt in her mind, -but that he was the victim of some devilish conspiracy--perchance a -thread of that same web which had entangled her to her undoing. But how -to convince the Cardinal-Archbishop of Tristan's innocence, when the -facts surrounding the terrible discovery were unknown to her? - -"This man is, no doubt, very dear to you," said the Abbess at last. - -Hellayne shrank before the questioner and averted her face. But the -Abbess was resolved to know more, once her suspicions were aroused. - -"Could it perchance be he who brought you here three nights ago--your -brother?" she queried with a kind, though penetrating glance at the -woman who was trembling like an aspen, her face colorless, her eyes -dimmed with tears. - -A silent nod convinced the Abbess of the truth of her surmise. She -stroked Hellayne's silken hair. - -"It is a dreadful crime of which he stands accused, one for which there -is no remission--no pardon here or hereafter," she said sorrowfully. - -"He is innocent," sobbed Hellayne. "He is as pure as the light, as the -flowers. There is some dreadful mistake. He must be saved before it is -too late! Oh--dear mother--could you not intercede for him with His -Eminence?" - -The Abbess regarded her as if she thought her protege had suddenly -lost her reason. To intercede with the Cardinal-Archbishop for one who -stood committed of so heinous an offence, taken in the very act,--one -who, perchance, was implicated in all those other terrible outrages -committed in the various sanctuaries of Rome! Nevertheless she made -allowance for Hellayne's hysterical plea. - -"Has he never mentioned these matters to you?" She queried kindly, -hoping to draw the girl out. - -"What matters?" Hellayne queried, with wide eyes, and the question -convinced the Abbess that the woman knew nothing. - -"These dark practices," replied the Abbess. "For this is not the first -offence. Even within this very moon cycle the Holy Host has been taken -from the Church of Our Blessed Lady yonder. And all efforts to discover -the guilty one have failed." - -"I had not heard of it," said Hellayne. "I have not been long in Rome. -Nor has he. About a month, I should say." - -"A month?" - -"And he knew nothing of this. Nor knew he even one person in this whole -city." - -"Wherefore then came he?" - -Hellayne explained and the Abbess listened. Hellayne's account, which -was impersonal, impressed her protectress in so far as she knew she -spoke truth. For, if here was an impostor, it was the cleverest she had -ever faced and, while a stranger to the world and to worldly affairs, -the stamp of truth was too indelibly written upon Hellayne's brow to -even permit of the shadow of a doubt. Perhaps it was for this reason -the Abbess refrained from questioning her farther, for she had been -somehow curious of the relation between the woman and the man who had -brought her here. - -Here was matter for thought indeed. For, if the man was guilty and, -notwithstanding Hellayne's protestations, the Abbess was in her own -mind convinced that the Cardinal-Archbishop of Ravenna could not be -deceived in matters of this kind, what was to become of the woman he -had placed in her charge? There were also other matters equally grave -which oppressed the Abbess' mind. Hellayne's connection with one -who had committed the unspeakable crime might militate against her -remaining at the convent. Yet she hesitated to send her out into the -world, unprotected and alone. - -For a time there was silence. Hellayne, utterly exhausted from the -recital of a past, which had reopened every wound in her heart, causing -it to bleed anew, anxious, afraid, doubting and wondering how far her -protectress might go, stood before the woman who seemed to hold in her -hand both her own fate and that of her lover. - -"I will retire to my cell and pray to the Blessed Virgin for light to -guide my steps," the Abbess said at last, laying her hand on Hellayne's -head. "Do not venture away too far," she enjoined, "and come to me -after the Ave Maria. Perchance I may then know what to counsel." - -Hellayne bowed her head and kissed the hem of the Abbess' robe. - -After she had left, Hellayne remained standing where she was, -transfixed with anxiety and grief. - -What forces of gloom and evil encompassed her on all sides? The man to -whom she had given her youth and beauty, who had plucked the flower -which others had vainly desired, instead of cherishing the gift she -had bestowed upon him, had trampled the delicate blossom in the dust. -He, to whom her heart belonged ever since she had power to think, -was doomed for a deed too terrible to name. She had been ruthlessly -sacrificed by the one, and now the other had failed her, and a third -tried to encompass her ruin. And she was alone--utterly alone! - -What was she to do? To request an audience of the Cardinal-Archbishop -was little short of madness. In her own heart Hellayne doubted -seriously that the Abbess would concern herself any further about her -or her distress. Nevertheless she felt that something must be done. -This inertia which was creeping over her would drive her mad. But first -of all she must know the nature of the charge placed against the man -she loved before she would determine what to do. In vain she taxed her -tired brain for a ray of hope in the encompassing gloom. - -The long lights of the afternoon crossed and recrossed the sanctuary -of Santa Maria in Trastevere when Hellayne, after an hour of fervent -prayer, emerged from its portals and took the direction of the Tiber, -where she sat on her accustomed seat and brooded over her misery. - -At last the sunset came. The ashen color of the olive trees flashed out -into silver. The mountain peaks of distant Alba became faintly flushed -and phantom fair as, in a tempest of fire, the sun sank to rest. The -forests of ilex and arbutus on the Janiculum Hill seemed to tremble -with delight as the long red heralds touched their topmost boughs. The -whole landscape seemed to smile farewell to departing day. - -As she sat there, Hellayne's attention was attracted to a woman who had -paused near the river's edge. There was nothing remarkable either in -her carriage or apparel. It was a wrinkled hag, swart, snake-locked, -cowled, her dress jingling with sequins, her right hand clawed upon a -crooked staff. She appeared, in fact, just an old Levantine hoodie-crow -of the breed which was familiar enough in Rome in those cataclysmic -days, when all sorts of queer, tragic fowl were being driven northward -from over seas before the tidal wave of invading Islam. Her speech as -well as her manners and dress betrayed Oriental origin. - -As she hobbled up to where Hellayne was seated she stopped and asked -some trifling question about her way, which Hellayne pointed with some -hesitation, explaining that she was herself a stranger in Rome, and -knew not the direction of the city. - -The old crone seemed interested. - -"In yonder cloister--yet not of it?" she queried, pointing with the -crooked staff to the convent walls that towered darkly behind them in -the evening dusk. - -Her penetration startled Hellayne. - -"How did you guess, old mother?" she queried with a look of awe, which -was not unremarked by the other. - -"Ay--there is lore enough under these faded locks of mine to turn the -foulest cesspool in Rome as clear as crystal, or to change this staff -whereon I lean into a thing that creeps and hisses," she said with a -low laugh. - -Hellayne shrank back from her with a gesture of dismay. Believing -implicitly in their power, she felt a deadly fear of those who -professed the black arts. - -The old woman read her thoughts. - -"My daughter," she said, "be not afraid of the old woman's secret -gifts. Mine is a harmless knowledge, gained by study of the scrolls of -wise men, in my own native land. Fear not, I say, for I, who have pored -over those mystic characters till me eyes grew dim, can read your sweet -pale face as plainly as the brazen tablets in the Forum, and I can see -in it sorrow and care and anxiety for one you love." - -Hellayne gave a start. - -It was true! But how had the old crone found it out! She glanced -wistfully at her companion, and the latter, satisfied she was on the -right track, proceeded to answer that questioning glance.-- - -"You think he is in danger, or in grief," she continued mysteriously, -"and you wonder why he does not come. What would you not give, my poor -child, to see him this very moment--to look into his face--his eyes. -And I can show him to you, if you will. I am not ungrateful, even for a -slight service." - -The blood mounted to Hellayne's brow, and a strange light kindled in -her eyes, while a soft radiance swept over her face such as comes -into every countenance when the heart vibrates with an illusion to -its happiness, as though the silver cord thrilled to the touch of an -angel's wing. It was no clumsy guess of the wise woman to infer that -the woman before her loved. - -"What mean you?" asked Hellayne eagerly. "How can you show him to me? -What do you know of him? Where is he? Is he safe?" - -The wise woman smiled. Here was a bird flying blindly into the net. -Take her by her affections, there would be little difficulty in the -capture. - -"He is in danger--in grave danger," she replied. "But you could save -him, if you only knew how. He might be happy, too, if he would. -But--with another!" - -To do Hellayne justice, she heard only the first sentence. - -"In grave danger," she repeated. "I knew it! And I could save him! Oh, -tell me where he is, and what I can do for him?" - -The wise woman pulled a small mirror from her bosom. - -"I cannot tell you," she replied. "But I can show him to you. Only not -here, where the shadow of any chance passer-by might destroy the charm. -Let us turn aside into yonder ruins. There is no one near, and you -shall gaze without interruption into the face of him you love--" - -It was but a short way off, though the ruins which surrounded it -made the place lonely and secluded. Had it been twice the distance -however, Hellayne would have accompanied her new acquaintance for -Tristan's sake, in the eagerness to obtain tidings of his fate. As she -approached the ruins she could not repress a faint sigh, which was not -lost on her companion. - -"It was here you parted," she said. "It is here you shall see him -again." - -This was scarcely a random shaft, for it required little penetration -to discover that Hellayne had some tender association connected with a -spot, the solitude of which appealed to her in so great a degree. - -Nevertheless the utterance convinced Hellayne of her companion's -supernatural power and, though it roused alarm, it excited curiosity to -a still greater degree. - -"Take the mirror in your hand," whispered the wise woman, when they -reached the portico, casting a searching glance around. "Shut your eyes -while I speak the charm that calls him three times over, and then look -steadily on its surface till I have counted ten." - -Hellayne obeyed these instructions implicitly. Standing in the centre -of the ruin with the mirror in her hand, she shut her eyes and listened -intently to the low solemn tones of the woman's chanting, while from -the deep shadows of the ruin there stole out a muffled form and at the -same time a half dozen sbirri rose from their different hiding places -among the ruins. - -Ere the incantation had been twice repeated, the leader threw a scarf -over Hellayne's head, muffling her so completely that an outcry was -impossible. - -Resistlessly she felt herself taken up and carried to a chariot, which -was waiting a short space away. A moment later the driver whipped the -horses into a gallop and the vehicle with its occupants and burden -disappeared in the gathering dusk. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A LYING ORACLE - - -It was an eventful night in Rome and, although for that reason well -adapted to deeds of violence, the tumult and confusion exacted great -caution from those who wished to proceed without interruption along the -streets. - -A storm had burst as out of a clear sky, and was sweeping in its fury -throughout a large portion of the city. Like all similar outbreaks, it -gathered force from many sources unconnected with its original course. - -Rome was the theatre that night of a furious strife between the great -feudal houses which lorded it over the city. - -The Leonine city with its protecting walls did not exist until some -decades later. Thus, not only hordes of marauding Saracens, but Franks -and Teutons used to make occasional inroads to the very gates of the -city. On this evening Pandulph of Benevento, having taken umbrage at -some decision of the Sacred Consistory regarding the lands he held as -fief of the Church, conferring upon him a title which was disputed by -Wido of Prænesté, had broken into the city and a bloody and obstinate -conflict was being waged between his forces and the soldiers of the -Church. The Roman nobles, ever restless and ready to revolt alike from -the authority of the Emperor or of the Church, would not let this -glorious opportunity pass without reminding those in power that they -had built upon a volcano. They joined in the fray, some taking the -part of the invader, others of the Church. - -An hour or two before sunset an undisciplined horde of mercenaries, -armed cap-a-pie, and formidable chiefly for the wild fury with which -they seemed inspired, attacked the Mausoleum of the Flavian Emperor. -The assailants, having no engines of war either for protection or -assault, suffered severely from the missiles showered upon them by the -besieged. Being repulsed after repeated assaults, they threw flaming -torches into the houses that lined the river on the opposite shore and -withdrew. From another quarter of the city a large body of Epirotes, -who had hoisted the standard of the Lord Gisulph of Salerno and had -already suffered one defeat, which rather roused their animosity -than quelled their ardor, were advancing in good order. Before the -Lateran they met the forces of Pandulph of Benevento, and a terrible -hand-to-hand encounter ensued. Nor was man the only demon on the scene. -Unsexed women with bare bosoms, wild eyes and streaming hair, the very -outcast of the Roman scum, their feet stained with blood, flew to and -fro, stimulating each other to fresh atrocities with wine, caresses and -ribald mirth. It was a feast of Death and Sin. She had wreathed her -white arms about the spectral king and crowned his fleshless head with -her gaudy garlands, wrapped him in a mantle of flame and pressed the -blood-red goblet to his lips, maddening him with her shrieks of wild, -mocking mirth, the while mailed feet trampled out the lives of their -victims on the flagstones of Rome. - -Through a town in such a state of turmoil and confusion Tebaldo took -it upon himself to conduct in safety the prize he had succeeded in -capturing, not, it must be confessed, without many hearty regrets that -he had ever embarked on the enterprise. - -It was indeed a difficult and perilous task. He had been compelled to -dismiss his men long ago, in order not to attract attention. There -was but room for himself and one stout slave, beside the charioteer -and his captive. The latter had struggled violently and required to be -held down by sheer force, nor, in muffling her screams, was it easy to -observe the happy medium between silence and suffocation. Also, it was -indispensable in the present state of lawlessness to avoid observation, -and the spectacle of a golden chariot with a woman prisoner, gagged -and veiled, the whole drawn by four spirited black steeds, was -not calculated to avoid suspicion and comment. Stefano, Tebaldo's -underling, had indeed suggested a litter, but this had been overruled -by his comrade on the score of speed, and now the congestion of the -streets made speed impossible. To be sure, this enabled his escort to -keep up with them at a distance, but a fight at this present moment -was little to Tebaldo's taste. The darkness which should have favored -him was dispelled by the numerous conflagrations in the various parts -of the city, and when the chariot was stopped and forced to run into -a by-street, to avoid a crowd running toward the Campo Marzo, Tebaldo -felt his heart sink within him in an access of terror such as even he -had rarely felt before. - -Up one street, down another, avoiding the main thoroughfares, now -rendered impassable by the throngs, the charioteer directed his steeds -towards Basil's palace on the Pincian Hill. - -Hellayne seemed to have either fainted, or resigned herself to her -fate, for she had ceased to struggle and cowered on the floor of -the chariot, silent and motionless. Tebaldo hoped his difficulties -were over, and promised himself never again to be concerned in such -an affair. Already he imagined himself safe on his patron's porch, -claiming his reward, when his advance was stopped by a pageant, which -promised a protracted and hazardous delay. - -Winding its slow way along, with all the pomp and splendor attending -it, a procession of chariots crossed in front of Tebaldo's steeds, -and not a man in Rome would have dared to break in upon the train of -Theodora, who was abroad to view the strife of the factions, utterly -indifferent to the perils of the venture. - -It may be that something whispered to Hellayne that, of the two perils -confronting her, what she contemplated was the lesser, and no sooner -did the car stop to let the chariots pass, than, tearing away the -bandage, she uttered a piercing scream, which brought it to a halt at -once, while Tebaldo, trying to wear a bold front, quaked in every limb. - -At a signal from the woman in the first chariot her giant Africans -seized the shaking Tebaldo and surrounded his chariot. Already a crowd -of curious spectators was gathering, and the glare of the bonfires, -kindled here and there, shed its light on their dark, eager faces, -contrasting strangely with the veiled form of a woman, cold and -immobile as marble. - -Two of the Africans seized Tebaldo, and buffeted him unceremoniously -to within a few paces of the occupant of the chariot. Here he stood, -speechless and trembling, anger and fear contending for the mastery, -which changed to dismay as the woman raised her veil with a hand -gleaming white as ivory. - -"Do you know me?" - -Whatever he had intended to say, the words died on Tebaldo's lips. - -"The Lady Theodora!" - -"You still have your wits about you," replied the woman. "Whom have you -there?" - -The cold sweat stood on the brow of Basil's henchman. - -"The run-away mistress of my lord," he said, looking from right to left -for some one to prompt him, some escape from the dilemma. - -"Who is your master?" Theodora queried curtly. - -"The Lord Basil--" - -"The Lord Basil!" shrilled Theodora. "Indeed I knew not he had lost a -mistress. Yet I saw him within the hour and had speech with him."-- - -Stefano had meanwhile come up, composed and sedate, little guessing -the quality of his companion's interlocutor, with the air of a man -confident in the justice of his case. - -"Where are you taking this woman?" Theodora queried. - -Tebaldo attempted to speak, but Stefano anticipated him. - -"To the palace of my Lord Basil on the Pincian Hill, noble lady," he -said with many obese bows. "Suffer us to proceed, for the streets are -becoming more unsafe every moment and our lord will not be trifled with -in matters of this kind." - -"Indeed," Theodora interposed. "Is his heart so much set upon this -prize? Ho there, Bahram--Yussuff--bring the woman here!" - -Tebaldo tried to worm himself out of the clutch of the black giants, in -order to prevent them from obeying Theodora's order, but he found the -situation hopeless and was about to address Theodora when the latter -bade him be silent.-- - -"The woman shall speak for herself," she said in a tone that suffered -no contradiction and, in another moment, Hellayne, lifted by four -muscular arms from the chariot of her abductors, stood, released of her -bandages, before Theodora. - -All color left the Roman's face as she gazed into the pallid and -anguished features of the woman whom of all women on earth she feared -and hated most, the woman who dared to enter the arena with her for the -love of the one man whom she was determined to possess, if the universe -should crumble to atoms. Hellayne's fear upon beholding Theodora gave -way to her pride as she met the dark eyes of the Roman in which there -might have been a gleam of pity or a flash of scorn. - -But, ere Hellayne could speak, finding herself, caught like a poor -hunted bird, in one net, ere she had well escaped the other, Theodora -turned to Tebaldo. - -"Tell the Lord Basil, the woman he craves is under Theodora's roof, -and--if so he be inclined--he may claim her at my hands--" - -The gleaming white arm went out, and ere Hellayne knew what happened, -she found herself raised into the second chariot, where sat a tall girl -of great beauty, Persephoné, the Circassian. - -A signal to the charioteer and the pageant moved with slightly -increased speed towards the Aventine, while Tebaldo and Stefano, -out-witted and non-plussed, stared after the vanishing procession as if -they were encompassed by a nightmare. Then, simultaneously, they broke -out into such a chorus of vituperation that the by-standers shrank back -from them in horror, and they soon found themselves, their chariot -and its driver, almost the only human beings in the now deserted -thoroughfare. - -Hellayne meanwhile sat, utterly dazed, next to Persephoné. Terrified by -the danger she had escaped, and scarcely reassured by the manner of her -rescue she seemed as one in a stupor, unable to think, unable to speak. - -Persephoné regarded her with a strange fascination, not unmingled with -curiosity. Hellayne's fair and wonderful beauty appealed strangely to -the Circassian, while, with her native intuition, she wondered whether -Theodora's act was prompted by kindness or revenge. - -Hellayne seemed, for the first time, to note her companion. Looking -into Persephoné's eyes she shuddered. - -"Where are we going?" she whispered, gazing about in a state of -bewilderment, as the procession slowly wound up the slopes of the Mount -of Cloisters, and the broad ribbon of the Tiber gleamed below in the -moonlight. - -A strange smile curved Persephoné's lips. - -"To the Groves of Enchantment," she replied. "You are the guest of the -Lady Theodora." - -Hellayne brushed back the silken hair from her brow as if she were -waking from a troubled dream. - -She gave a swift glance to her companion, another to the winding road -and, suddenly rising from her seat, started to leap from the chariot. - -Ere she could carry out her intent, she was caught in the Circassian's -arms. - -A silent, but terrible struggle ensued. Notwithstanding her harrowing -experiences of the past days, despair had given back to Hellayne the -strength of youth. But in the lithe Circassian she found her match -and, after a few moments, she sank back exhausted, Persephoné's arms -encircling her like coils of steel, while her smiling eyes sank into -her own. - -The palace of Theodora rose phantom-like from among its environing -groves in the moonlight, and the chariots dashed through the portals of -the outer court, which closed upon the fantastic procession. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -BITTER WATERS - - -The dawn was creeping over the Sabine mountains when Tristan, after -having made good his escape from the dungeons of Castel San Angelo, -reached the hermitage of Odo of Cluny on distant Aventine. - -Fatigued almost to the point of death, bleeding and bruised, only his -unconquerable will had urged him on towards safety. - -His first impulse, after crossing the bridge of San Angelo, was to go -to the Convent of Santa Maria in Trastevere. He abandoned this plan -upon saner reflection. Doubtlessly all Rome was instructed regarding -the crime of which he stood accused. Recognition meant arrest and a -fate he dared not think of. Tears forced themselves into Tristan's -eyes, tears of sheer despair and hopelessness. Now, that he was free, -he dared not follow the all-compelling impulse of his heart, assuage -the craving of his soul, to learn if Hellayne was safe. - -After a few moments rest in the shadow of a doorway he set out to seek -the one man in all Rome to whom he dared reveal himself. - -Not a soul seemed astir. Dim dusk hovered above the high houses beyond -the Tiber, between whose silent chasms Tristan, dreading the echo of -his own footsteps, made his way towards the Church of the Trespontine. -Thus, after a circuitous route through waste and desert spaces, he -reached the Benedictine's hermitage. - -Odo stared at the early visitor as if a ghost had arisen from the floor -before him. He had just concluded his devotions and Tristan, fearing -lest the Monk of Cluny might believe in his guilt, lost no time in -stating his case, pouring forth a tale so fantastic and wild that his -host could not but listen in mingled horror and amaze. - -Beginning with the moment when he had been informed of Hellayne's -sudden death, he omitted not a detail up to the time of his escape -from the dungeon, which to him meant nothing less than the antechamber -of death. Minutely he dwelt upon his watch in the Lateran, laying -particular stress upon the deadly drowsiness, which had gradually -overtaken him, binding his limbs as with cords of steel. Graphically he -depicted his awakening, when he found himself surrounded by the high -prelates of the Church who faced him with the supposed evidence of a -crime of which he knew nothing. And lastly he repeated almost word for -word the strange discourse he had overheard in his dungeon between -Basil and the Oriental. - -A ghastly pallor flitted over the features of Odo of Cluny at the -latter intelligence. - -"If this be true indeed--if Alberic is dead--woe be to Rome! It is too -monstrous for belief, and yet--I have suspected it long." - -For a time Odo relapsed into silence, brooding over the tidings of -doom, and Tristan, though many questions struggled for utterance, -waited in anxious suspense. - -At last the monk resumed. - -"I see in this the hand of one who never strikes but to destroy. The -blow falls unseen, yet the aim is sure. I have not been idle, yet do I -not hold in my hand all the threads of the dark web that encompasses -us. Of the crime of which you stand accused I know you to be innocent. -Nevertheless--you dare not show yourself in Rome. Your escape from -your dungeon once discovered, not a nook or corner of Rome will remain -unsearched. They dare not let you live, for your existence spells their -doom. They will not look for you in this hermitage. It has many secret -winding passages, and it will be easy for you to elude them. Therefore, -my son, school your soul to patience, for here you must remain till -we have assembled around the banner of the Cross the forces of Light -against the legions of Hell." - -"What of the woman, Father, who is awaiting my return at the Convent of -Santa Maria in Trastevere?" Tristan turned to the monk in a pleading, -stifled voice. "Doubtless the terrible rumor has reached her ear." - -He covered his face with his hands, while convulsive sobs shook his -whole frame. - -Odo tried to soothe him. - -"This is hardly the spirit I expected of one who has hitherto shown -so brave a front, and whose aim it is not to anticipate the blows of -chance." - -"Nevertheless, Father, it is more than I can bear. I have no lust for -life, and care not what fate has in store for me, for my heart is heavy -within me, and all the fountains of my hopes are dried up, until I know -the fate of the Lady Hellayne--and know from her own lips that she does -not believe this devilish calumny." - -A troubled look passed into Odo's face. - -"If she still is at the convent of the Blessed Sisters of Trastevere -she is undoubtedly safe," he said, but there was something in his tone -which struck Tristan's ear with dismay. - -"You are keeping something from me, Father," he said falteringly. "Tell -me the worst! For this anxiety is worse than death. Where is the Lady -Hellayne? Is she--dead?" - -"Would she were," replied the monk gloomily. "I wished to spare you the -tidings! She was taken from the convent on some pretext--the nature of -which I know not. At present she is at the palace of Theodora on Mount -Aventine." - -Tristan sat up as if electrified. - -"At the palace of Theodora?" he cried. "How is this known to you?" - -"Little transpires in Rome which I do not know," Odo replied darkly. -"It seems that those whom the Lord Basil entrusted with the task of -abducting the woman were in turn outwitted by Theodora who, in rescuing -her from a fate worse than death at the hands of the Grand Chamberlain, -has perchance consigned her to one equally, if not more, cruel." - -A moan broke from Tristan's lips. Then he was seized with a terrible -fit of rage. - -"Then it is Theodora's hand that has sundered us in the flesh as her -witches' beauty had estranged our hearts. More merciless than a beast -of prey she did not strike Hellayne with death, so that I might have -sentinelled her hallowed tomb, and with her sweet memory for company -might have watched for the coming of my own hour to join her again! I -have lost my love--my honor--my manhood--at the hands of a wanton." - -Odo tried for a time, though in vain, to calm him by reminding him that -Hellayne would rather suffer death than dishonor. As regarded himself, -he was convinced that Theodora would have moved heaven and earth to -have set him free, had not his supposed crime concerned the Church and -the Cardinal-Archbishop was adamant. - -"Oft, in my visions," he concluded, speaking lower, as if his mind -strove with some vague elusive memory, "have I heard the voice of -Theodora's doom cried aloud. A cruel fate is yours indeed--and we can -but pray to the saints that the worst may be averted from the woman who -has suffered so much." - -"Something must be done," Tristan interposed, his fierce mood gaining -the mastery over every other feeling. "I care not if the minions of -the devil take me back to the prison that leads to death, so I snatch -her prey from this arch-courtesan of the Aventine." - -Odo laid a detaining hand upon his arm. - -"Madman! You are but planning your own destruction. And, if you die, -wherein will it benefit the woman who is left to her fate? You are weak -from the night's work and your nerves are overwrought. Follow me into -the adjoining room even though the repast be meagre. We will devise -some means to rescue the Lady Hellayne from the powers of darkness and, -trusting in Him who died that we may live, we shall succeed." - -Pointing to the drooping form of the crucified Christ on the opposite -wall of his improvised oratory, Odo beckoned to Tristan to follow him, -and the latter accompanied the Benedictine into the adjoining rock -chamber, where he did ample justice to the frugal repast which Odo -placed before him, and of which the monk himself partook but sparingly. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -FROM DREAM TO DREAM - - -Theodora's sleep had been broken and restless. She tossed and turned -upon her pillow. It was weary work to lie gazing with eyes wide open -at the fantastic shadows cast by the flickering night lamp. It was -still less productive of sleep to shut them tight and abandon herself -to the visions thus created which stood out in life-like colors and -refused to be dispelled. Do what she would to forget him, Tristan ever -and ever stood before her, towering like a demigod above the mean, -effeminate throng that surrounded her. She could no longer analyze her -feelings. She believed herself to be bewitched. She had not reached -the prime of womanhood without having sounded, as she thought, every -chord of the human heart. Descendant from a family of courtesans, such -as had ruled Rome during the tenth century, she had tasted every cup, -as she thought, that promised gratification and excitement. She had -been flattered, courted, loved, admired. Yet she had remained utterly -cold to all these experiences, and none of her lovers could boast that -her passion had endured beyond the hour. The terrible fascination she -exercised over all men made them slaves in her hands, blind instruments -of her will. But, as the years went by, the utter disgust she felt with -these hordes of beasts that thronged her bowers, was only equalled by -a mad desire for power, a struggle, which alone could bring to her -oblivion. To rule had become a passion with the woman, who had no heart -interest that made life worth living. The fleeting passion for Basil -had long ceased to kindle a responsive fire in her veins. Fit but to -be her tool, she was determined to rid herself of him as soon as her -ambition should have been realized. - -Suddenly the unbelievable had come to pass. She had met a man. Not one -of those crawling, fawning reptiles who nightly desecrated her groves, -but a man who might have steered her life into different channels, who -might have directed the flight of her soul to regions of light, instead -of chaining it to the dark abyss among the shadows. It was a new -sensation altogether. This intense and passionate longing she had never -felt before. But in its novelty it was absolutely painful. For the man -whom she craved with all the fibres of her being, to whom her soul went -out as it had never gone out to mortal, had scorned her. - -Her fame had proved more potent than her beauty. - -Tristan's continued indifference had roused in her all the demons -in her nature. Her first impulse had been revenge at any price. Her -compact with Basil was the fruit of her first madness. Even now she -would have rescinded it had Tristan but shown a softer, kindlier -feeling towards her. Some incongruous whim had prompted her to choose -for her instrument the very man whom in her heart she loathed, whose -attentions were an insult to her. For, in her own heart, Theodora held -herself to be some God-decreed thing, like the Laides and Thaides and -Phrynes of old. She could not escape her destiny. - -With all her self-command Theodora's feelings had almost overpowered -her. Ever since the tidings of Tristan's supposed crime and captivity -had reached her ear, she had taxed her brain, though in vain, to -bring about his rescue. For once her efforts were baffled and she met -a resistance which all the tigerish ferocity of her nature could -not overcome. Tristan was in the custody of the Church. In his guilt -Theodora did not believe, rather did she suspect foul play at the hands -of one of whom she would demand a terrible reckoning. She thought of -Tristan night and day, and she was determined to save him, whatever the -hazard,--save him for herself and her love. Her spies were at work, but -meanwhile she must sit idly by and wait--wait, though the blood coursed -like lava through her veins. She dared confide in none, nor could she -even have speech with the man she loved. She had managed to curb her -feelings and to preserve an outward calm, while Persephoné prepared her -for repose. The latter was much puzzled by her mistress's mood, but she -retired to her own couch carefree, while Theodora writhed in an agony -such as she had never known before. - -Yet, fate had been kind to her,--kinder than she had dared to hope. -By some fatal throw of chance the woman Tristan loved--her rival--had -fallen into her hands. While this circumstance did not in itself take -the sting of Tristan's insult from the wound, she would, at least, be -revenged upon the cause of her suffering. - -When, on that memorable evening at the Arch of the Seven Candles, she -had first met Hellayne face to face, when first the truth had flashed -upon her and she knew herself rejected for that white lily from the -North, a hatred such as she had never known had crept into her heart, -a hatred to which fresh fuel was added from the consciousness of her -rival's beauty, her strength, her youth. With all the fire of her -southern temperament she longed to meet this woman, to conquer her, to -take from her the man she loved. - -Morning brought in its wake its unfailing accession of -clear-sightedness and practical resolve. Long before she rose she had -made up her mind where and how to strike. Nothing remained but to -choose the weapon and to put a keener edge upon the steel. - -When Persephoné came to assist her mistress, she wondered how the mood -of the evening had passed. While attiring Theodora, the Circassian -could not but wonder at the marvellous beauty of this woman who had -bent the hearts of men to her desires like wind blown reeds, only -to break them and cast them at their feet. Only on the previous day -a new wooer had entered the lists; a man rude of speech and manner, -vain withal and self-satisfied, had laid gifts at Theodora's feet. -Roger de Laval was the great man's name. He came from some far away, -fabled land, and it was rumored that he had come to Rome to seek his -truant wife. Having surprised her in the arms of her lover, whom she -had followed, he had killed both. Such a temper was to the liking -of Persephoné, and, as her soft white fingers played around her -mistress' throat, in the endeavor to fasten her rose-colored tunic, she -could hardly restrain herself from encircling that white throat and -strangling the woman who had spurned the attentions of one for whose -love she would have sacrificed her soul. - -"What of the Lady Hellayne?" Theodora broke the heavy silence. - -"She remains in the chamber which the Lady Theodora has assigned to -her." Persephoné replied. - -"Are the eunuchs at their post?" - -"Before her door and beneath her windows." - -Theodora gave a nod. - -"Bring the Lady Hellayne here!" - -"The Lady Theodora has not breakfasted." - -"I know! Yet I would not delay this meeting longer." - -Persephoné hesitated. - -"The Lady Hellayne is in a perilous mood--" - -"I should love nothing better than to find her so," Theodora replied, -extending her two snowy arms, whose steely strength Persephoné knew -so well. "I long for the conflict with this marble statue as I have -never longed for anything in my life. I could find it in my heart to -be happy if she destroyed me with those white hands that rival mine, -if she but stepped out of her reserve, her marble calm, if her soul -ignited from mine." - -"If I know aught about her kind, the Lady Theodora will do well to be -wary," Persephoné replied demurely. - -The covert taunt had its instantaneous effect. - -"Deem you I fear this white siren from the North?" Theodora flashed, -regarding herself in the bronze mirror and brushing a stray lock of -hair from her white brow. - -"What will you do with her, Lady Theodora?" Persephoné purred. - -Theodora's face was very white. - -"There are times when nothing but the physical touch will satisfy. And -now go and fetch hither the Lady Hellayne that I may hear from her own -lips how she fared under the roof of her rival." - -Persephoné departed from the room, while Theodora arose and, stepping -to the casement, looked out into the blossoming gardens that encircled -her palace. - -Her beauty was regal indeed, as she stood there brooding, her bare arms -dropping by her side. But for the expression of the eyes, in which -a turmoil of passion seemed to seethe, the wonderful face in repose -would have seemed that of an angel rather than a woman meditating the -destruction of another. - -After a time Persephoné returned. By her side walked Hellayne. - -Her beauty seemed even enhanced by the expression of suffering revealed -in the depths of her blue eyes. She wore a dark robe, almost severe in -its straight lines. The loose sleeves revealed her white arms. Her hair -was tied in a Grecian knot. - -At a sign from Theodora Persephoné left the room. - -For a moment the two women faced each other in silence, fixing each -other with their gaze, each trying to read the thoughts of the other. - -It was Hellayne who spoke. - -"The Lady Theodora has desired my presence." - -"It was my anxiety for your welfare, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied, -inviting her to a seat, while she seated herself opposite her visitor. -"After the trying experiences of yesterday I do not wonder at the -shadows that creep under your eyes. They but prove that my anxiety was -well founded. May I ask if you rested well?" - -"I owe you thanks, Lady Theodora, for your timely aid," Hellayne -replied in cold, passionless accents. "They tell me I was in dire -straits, though I cannot conceive who should care to abduct one who -would so little repay the effort." - -"Enough to infatuate him, whoever he was, with a beauty as rare as it -is wonderful," Theodora replied, forced to an expression of her own -admiration at the sight of the exquisite face, the white throat, the -wonderful arms and hands of her rival. "I but did what any woman would -do for another whose life she saw imperilled. Your wonderful youth -and strength will soon restore you to your former self. Deign then to -accept the hospitality of this abode until such a time." - -There was a pause during which each seemed to search the soul of the -other. - -It was Hellayne who spoke. - -"I thank you, Lady Theodora. Nevertheless I intend to depart at the -earliest. I can picture to myself the anxiety of the Blessed Sisters of -Santa Maria in Trastevere at my mysterious disappearance." - -"You intend taking holy orders?" - -Theodora's question was pregnant with a strange wonder. - -A negative gesture came in response. - -"The convent proved a haven of refuge to me when I was sorely tried." - -"Yet--you cannot return there," Theodora interposed. "You would not -be safe. Know you from whose minions my Africans rescued you on yester -eve?" - -Hellayne's wide eyes were silent questioners. - -"Then listen well and ponder. You were in the power of the Lord Basil. -And that which he desires he usually obtains." - -Hellayne covered her face with her hands. - -"The Lord Basil!" - -"You know him, Lady Hellayne?" - -"Slightly. He was wont to call upon the man I once called my husband." - -"The man you deserted for another." - -Hellayne's eyes glittered like steel. - -"That is a matter which concerns only myself, Lady Theodora," she said -coldly. "You saved my honor--perchance my life. For this I thank you. I -shall depart at once." - -She walked to the door, opened it and recoiled. - -Before it stood two Africans with gleaming scimitars. - -White to the lips, Hellayne closed the door and faced Theodora. - -"Lady Theodora--why are these there?" - -Theodora's smouldering gaze met the fire in the other woman's eyes. - -"Those who come to the bowers of Theodora, remain," she said slowly. - -"Am I to understand that you will detain me by force within these walls -of infamy?" - -"Your language is a trifle harsh, fairest Lady Hellayne," Theodora -replied mockingly. "Your over-wrought nerves must bear the burden of -the blame. Yet, whatever it may please you to call the place where -Theodora dwells, always remember, I am Theodora. You have heard of me -before." - -"Yes--I have heard of you before!" - -The calm and cutting contempt which lingered in these words stung -Theodora like a whip-lash. - -"You know then, Lady Hellayne, it is your will against mine! We have -met before!" - -"You mean to detain me here, against my will?" - -"Whether I detain you or no--shall depend upon yourself. We are two -women--young,--beautiful--passionate--determined to win that which we -deem our happiness. I will be plain with you. All the reverses and -heartaches of months and days are wiped out in this glorious moment -when I hold you here in my power. For once my guardian angel, if I can -still boast of one, has been kind to me. He has delivered you into my -hands--and I shall bend or break you!" - -Hellayne listened to this outburst of passion with outward calm, though -her heart beat so wildly that she thought the other woman must hear it -through the deadly silence which prevailed for a space. - -"You will bend or break me, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne replied with a -pathetic shrug. "There is nothing that you could do that would even -leave a memory. I have suffered that in life which makes you to me but -the nightmare of an evil dream." - -"We shall see, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied, her passion kindling -at the other woman's calm. - -"What then is the ransom you desire, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne continued -sardonically. "A woman of your kind desires but one thing--and gold I -do not possess--" - -Theodora's eyes scanned Hellayne's pale face. - -"Lady Hellayne," she said slowly, "of all the things in heaven or on -earth there is but one I desire: Tristan,--the man you love--the man -who loves you with a passion so idolatrous that, did I possess but the -one thousandth atom of what he gives to your ice cold heart, I should -deem myself blessed above all women on earth. Give him to me--renounce -him--and you are free to go wherever your fancy may lead you." - -Hellayne regarded the speaker as if she thought she had gone mad. - -"Give him to you?" she said, hardly above a whisper, but her tone stung -Theodora to the quick. - -"To me!" she said. "Look at me! Am I not beautiful? Am I not created -to make man happy? What woman may match herself with me? Even your -pale beauty, Lady Hellayne, is but as a disembodied wraith as compared -to mine. To me! To me! You are young, Lady Hellayne. What can the -sacrifice matter to you? To you it can mean little. There are other -men with whom you may be happy. For me it spells salvation--or eternal -doom! For I love him, I love him with my whole heart and soul, love -him as never I loved the thing called man before! He has shown to me -one glimpse of heaven, and now I mean to have him, to atone for a -past that was my evil inheritance, to taste life ere I too descend -to those shadowy regions whence there is no return. Lady Hellayne," -she continued, hardly noting the expression of horror and loathing -that had crept into Hellayne's countenance. "You have heard of -me--you know who I am--and what! Those who went before me were the -same, generations, perchance. It rankles in our blood. But there is -salvation--even for such as myself. To few it comes, but I have seen -the star. It is the love of a man, pure and true. Where such a one -is found, even the darkness of the grave is dispelled. I have lived -and loved, Lady Hellayne! I have been loved as few women have. I have -hurled myself into this mad whirlpool to forget--but forget I could -not. Man, the beast, is ever ready to drag the woman who cries for life -and its true meaning back into the mire. He alone of all has spurned -me--he alone has resisted the deadly lure of my charms. Never have I -spoken to woman before as I am speaking to you, Lady Hellayne. Hear my -prayer!--Renounce him!" - -Hellayne stared mute at the speaker, as if her tongue refused her -utterance. Was she going mad? Theodora, the courtesan queen of -Rome, trying to obtain salvation by taking from her her lover? She -could almost have found it in her heart to laugh aloud. A death-bed -repentance that made the devils laugh! In her virginal purity Hellayne -could not fathom what was going on in the soul of a woman who had -suddenly awakened to the terror of her life and was snatching at the -last straw to save herself from drowning in the cesspool of vice. - -Theodora, with her woman's intuition, saw what was going on in the -other woman's soul. She noted the slow transformation from amazement to -horror, and from horror to defiance. She saw Hellayne slowly raising -herself to her full height, and approaching her, who had risen, until -her breath fanned her cheek. - -"Give him to you, Lady Theodora? Surely you must be mad to even dream -of so monstrous a thing." - -She was very white, and her hands were clenched as if she forcibly -restrained herself from flying at her opponent's throat. - -Theodora's self-restraint was slowly waning. She knew she had pleaded -in vain. She knew Hellayne did not understand, or, if she understood, -did not believe. - -She spoke calmly, yet there was something in her voice that warned -Hellayne of the impending storm. - -"Listen, Lady Hellayne," she said. "You are alone in Rome! At the mercy -of any one who desires you! Your lover is accused of the most heinous -crime. He has taken the consecrated wafer from the chapel in the -Lateran and, who knows, from how many other churches in Rome." - -Hellayne's eyes sank into those of the other woman. - -"No one knows better than yourself, Lady Theodora, how utterly false -and infamous this accusation is. Tristan is a devout son of the Church. -His whole life bears testimony thereof." - -"If the Consistory pronounce him guilty, who will believe him -innocent?" came the mocking reply. - -"His God--his conscience--and I," Hellayne replied quietly. - -"Will that save his life--which is forfeit?" Theodora interposed. - -"Where is he? Oh, where is he?" - -For a moment Hellayne gave way to her emotions. - -"He lies in the vaults of Castel San Angelo," Theodora replied, -"awaiting his doom." - -"Oh, God! Oh, God!" Hellayne moaned, covering her face with her hands -and sobbing convulsively. - -"His rescue--though difficult of achievement--lies with you," Theodora -said, veiling her inmost feelings. She was staking all on the last -throw. - -"With me?" Hellayne turned to her piteously. - -"I will tell you," Theodora interposed, placing her white hands on -Hellayne's shoulders. "The Consistory has spoken--" she lied--"and no -power on earth can save your lover from his doom save--myself!" - -"How may that be?" - -"I know the ways of the Emperor's Tomb. Its denizens obey me! If you -love him as I do you will bring the sacrifice and save his life." - -"Oh, save him if you can, Lady Theodora," Hellayne prayed, her hands -closing round Theodora's wrists. "Save him--save him." - -"I shall, if you will do this thing, I ask," Theodora replied, sinking -her dark orbs into the blue depths of Hellayne's. - -"What am I to do?" - -"It is easy. Here are stylus and tablet. Write to the Lord Basil -to meet you at the Groves of Theodora. A hint of love, passion, -promise--fulfillment of his desires--then give it to me. It shall save -your lover." - -For a moment Hellayne stared wild-eyed at the woman. It was as if she -had heard a voice, the meaning of which she no longer understood. - -Then, in her unimpassioned voice, she turned to Theodora. - -"Only the fiend himself and Theodora could ask as much!" - -The blood was coursing like a stream of lava through Theodora's veins. - -Would Hellayne but step out of her reserve! Would she but abandon her -icy calm! - -"Then you refuse?" she flashed. - -"I defy you," Hellayne replied. "Do your worst! Rather would I see him -dead than defiled by such as you!" - -"Would you, indeed?" Theodora returned with a deadly calm. -"Nevertheless, when first we met, he, for the mere asking, gave to me -a scarf of blue samite, a chased dagger, tokens from the woman he had -loved." - -Theodora paused, to watch the effect of the poison shaft she had sped. -She saw by Hellayne's agonized expression that it had struck home. - -"For the last time, Lady Hellayne, do my bidding!" - -Hellayne had regained her self-possession. With a supreme effort she -fought down the pain in her heart. - -"Never!" came the firm reply. - -"Then I shall take him from you!" - -"Deem you, I have aught to fear from such as you?" Hellayne said -slowly, the blue fire of her eyes burning on the pale face of Theodora. -"Deem you, that Tristan would defile his manhood with the courtesan -queen of Rome?" - -A gasp, a choking outcry, and Theodora's white hands closed round -Hellayne's throat. Though their touch burnt her like fire, Hellayne did -not even raise her hands. - -Fearlessly she gazed into Theodora's face. - -"I am waiting," she said with the same passionless voice, but there was -something in her eyes that gave the other woman pause. - -Theodora's hands fell limply by her side. What she read in Hellayne's -eyes had caused her, perchance, for the first time, to blanch. - -She clapped her hands. - -The door opened and Persephoné stood on the threshold. - -She had listened, and not a word of their discourse had escaped her -watchful ears. - -"The Lady Hellayne desires to return to her chamber," Theodora turned -to the Circassian, and without another word Hellayne followed her guide. - -Yet, as she did so, her head was turned towards Theodora and in her -eyes was an expression so inscrutable that Theodora turned away with a -shudder, as the door closed behind their retreating forms, leaving her -alone with her overmastering agony. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A ROMAN MEDEA - - -It was a moonless night.-- - -Deep repose was upon the seven hilled city. The sky was intensely dark, -but the stars shone out full and lustrous. Venus was almost setting. -Mars glowed red and fiery towards the zenith; the constellations seemed -to stand out from the infinite spaces behind them. Orion glittered like -a giant in golden armour; Cassiopeia shone out in her own peculiar -radiance and the Pleiades in their misty brightness. - -A litter, borne by four stalwart Nubians, and preceded by two torch -bearers, slowly emerged from the gates of Theodora's palace and took -the direction of the gorge which divides the Mount of Cloisters from -Mount Testaccio. - -Owing to the prevailing darkness which made all objects, moving and -immobile, indistinguishable, the inmates of the litter had not drawn -the curtains, so as to admit the cooling night air. There was a -fixedness in Theodora's look and a recklessness in her manner that -showed anger and determination. It struck Persephoné, who was seated -by her side, with a sort of terror, and for once she did not dare to -accost her mistress with her usual banter and freedom. - -Theodora had spent the early hours of the evening in a half obscured -room, whose sable hangings seemed to reflect the unrest of her -soul. She had forbidden the lamps to be lighted, brooding alone in -darkness and solitude. Then she had summoned Persephoné, ordered her -litter-bearers and commanded them to take her to the house of Sidonia, -a woman versed in all manner of lore that shunned the light of day. - -"It must be done! It shall be done!" she muttered, her white face -tense, her white hands clenched. - -Suddenly her hand closed round Persephoné's wrist. - -"She defies me, knowing herself in my power," she said. "We shall see -who shall conquer." - -"The Lady Hellayne is as fearless of death, as yourself, Lady -Theodora," Persephoné replied. "Indeed, she seemed rather to desire it, -for no woman ever faced you with such defiance as did she when you put -before her the fatal choice." - -Theodora's face shone ghostly in the nocturnal gloom. - -"We shall see! She shall desire death a thousand fold ere she quits the -abode I have assigned to her. God! Not even Roxana had dared to say to -me what this one did." - -"Nor would her shafts have struck so deep a wound," Persephoné -interposed with studied insolence. - -Theodora's grip tightened round the girl's wrist. - -"You admire the Lady Hellayne?" she said softly, but there was a gleam -in her eyes like liquid fire. - -"As one brave woman admires another!" Persephoné replied fearlessly, -turning her beautiful face to the speaker. - -"You may require all your courage some day to face another task," -Theodora replied. "Beware, lest you tempt me to do what I might regret." - -Persephoné turned white. Her bosom heaved. Her eyes met Theodora's. - -"I shall welcome the ordeal with all my heart!" - -Theodora relapsed into silence, oppressed by dark thoughts, the memory -of unresisted temptations, a chaotic world where black unscalable -rocks, like circles of the Inferno, hemmed her in on every side, while -devils whispered into her ears the words that gave shape and substance -to her desire to destroy her rival in the love of the one man whom, in -all her changeable life, she had truly desired. - -"Deem you, that I have aught to fear from such as you? Deem you, that -Tristan would defile his manhood with the courtesan queen of Rome?" - -The words still boomed in her ears, the words and the tone in which -they had been hurled in her face. - -Even to this moment she knew not what restrained her from strangling -Hellayne. It seemed to her that only in a physical encounter could -she quench the hatred she bore this white, beautiful statue who never -raised her voice while the fire of her blue eyes seared her very soul. - -A thousand frightful forms of evil, stalking shapes of death, came -and went before her imagination, which caused her to clutch first at -one, then at another of the dire suggestions that came in crowds which -overwhelmed her powers of choice. Then, like an inspiration from the -very depths of Hell, a thought flashed into her mind, and, no sooner -conceived, than she determined upon its execution. - -The laboratory of the woman whom Theodora was seeking on this night was -in an old house midway in the gorge. In a deep hollow, almost out of -sight, stood a square structure of stone, gloomy and forbidding, with -narrow windows and an uninviting door. Tall pines shadowed it on one -side, a small rivulet twisted itself, like a live snake, half round it -on the other. A plot of green grass, ill-kept and teeming with noxious -weeds, fennel, thistle and foul stramonium, was surrounded by a rough -wall of loose stone; and here lived the woman who supplied all those -who desired her wares, and plied her nocturnal trade. - -Sidonia was tall and straight, of uncertain age, though she might have -been reckoned at forty. The whiteness of her skin was enhanced by her -blue black hair and lustrous black eyes. Far from forbidding, she -exercised a sinister charm upon those who called upon her, and who -vainly tried to reconcile her trade with the traces of a great beauty. -Yet her thin, cruel lips never smiled, unless she had an object to gain -by assuming a disguise as foreign to her as light is to an angel of -darkness. - -Hardly any known poison there was, which was not obtainable at her -hands. In a sombre chest, carved with fantastic figures from Etruscan -designs, were concealed the subtle drugs, cabalistical formulas and -alchemic preparations which were so greatly in demand during those -years of darkness. - -In the most secret place of all were deposited, ready for use, a few -phials of a crystal liquid, every single drop of which contained the -life of a man, and which, administered in due proportion of time and -measure, killed and left no trace. - -Here was the sublimated dust of the deadly night-shade which kindles -the red fires of fever and rots the roots of the tongue. Here was the -fetid powder of stramonium that grips the lungs like an asthma, and -quinia that shakes its victims like the cold hand of the miasma in -the Pontine Marshes. The essence of poppies, ten times sublimated, a -few grains of which bring on the stupor of apoplexy, and the sardonic -plant that kills its victims with the frightful laughter of madness -upon their countenance, were here. The knowledge of these and many -other cursed herbs, once known to Medea in the Colchian land, and -transplanted to Greece and Rome with the enchantments of their use, had -been handed down by a long succession of sorcerers and poisoners to the -woman, who seemed endowed by nature as the legitimate inheritrix of -this lore of Hell. - -At last the litter of Theodora was set down by its swarthy bearers -before the threshold of Sidonia's house. Theodora alighted and, after -commanding the Africans to await her return, ascended the narrow stone -steps alone and knocked at the door. After a brief wait, shuffling -steps were heard from within, and a bent, lynx-eyed individual of -Oriental origin opened the door, inviting the visitor to enter. She was -ushered into a dusky hallway, in which brooded strange odors, thence -into a dimly lighted room, the laboratory of Sidonia. - -Hardly had she seated herself when the woman entered and stood face to -face with Theodora. - -The eyes of the two women instantly met in a searching glance that took -in the whole ensemble, bearing, dress and almost the very thoughts of -each other. In that one glance each knew and understood; each knew that -she could trust the other, in evil, if not in good. - -And there was trust between them. The evil spirits that possessed their -hearts clasped hands, and a silent league was formed in their souls ere -a word had been spoken. - -Sidonia wore a long, purple robe, totally unadorned. The sleeves were -wide, and revealed her white, bare arms. Her finely cut features were -crossed with thin lines of cruelty and cunning. No mercy was in her -eyes, still less on her lips, and none in her heart, cold to every -human feeling. - -"The Lady Theodora is fair to look upon," Sidonia broke the silence. -"All women admit it; all men confess it." And her gaze swept the other -woman, who was clad in an ample black mantle which ended in a hood. - -"Can you guess why I am here?" Theodora replied. "You are wise and know -a woman's desire better than she dares avow." - -"Can I guess?" replied Sidonia, returning Theodora's scrutiny. "You -have many lovers, Lady Theodora, but there is one who does not return -your passion. And, you have a rival. A woman, more potent than -yourself, has, notwithstanding your beauty, entangled the man you love, -and you are here to win him back and to triumph over your rival. Is it -not so, Lady Theodora?" - -"More than that," replied the other, clenching her white hands and -gazing into the eyes that met her own with a look of merciless triumph -at what she saw reflected therein. "It is all that--and more--" - -Sidonia met her eager gaze. - -"You would kill your rival!" she said with a smile upon her lips. -"There is death in your eyes--in your voice--in your heart! You -would kill the woman. It is good in the eyes of a woman to kill her -rival--and women like you are rare!" - -"Your reward shall be great," Theodora said with an inquisitive glance -at the woman who had read her inmost thoughts. - -"To kill woman or man were a pleasure even without the profit," replied -Sidonia, darkly. "I come from a race, ancient and terrible as the -Cæsars, and I hate the puny rabble. I have my own joy in making my hand -felt in a world I hate and which hates me!" - -She held out her hands, as if the ends of her fingers were trickling -poison. - -"Death drops on whomsoever I send it," she continued, "subtly, -secretly. The very spirits of air cannot trace whence it comes." - -"I know you are the possessor of terrible secrets," Theodora replied, -fascinated beyond all her experiences with the woman and her trade. - -"Such secrets never die," said the poisoner. "Few men, still fewer -women, are there who would not listen at the door of Hell to learn -them. Let me see your hand!" - -Theodora complied with her abrupt demand and laid her beautiful white -hand into the no less beautiful one of the woman before her. - -Her touch, though the hand was cool, seemed to burn, but Theodora's -touch affected the other woman likewise for she said: - -"There is evil enough in the palm of your hand to destroy the -world! We are well met, you and I. You are worthy of my confidence. -These fingers would pick the fruit off the forbidden tree, for men -to eat and die! Lady Theodora--I may some day teach you the great -secret--meanwhile I will show you that I possess it!" - -With these words she walked to the chest, took from it an ebony casket -and laid it upon the table. - -"There is death enough in this casket," she said, "to kill every man -and woman in Rome!" - -Theodora fastened her gaze upon it, as if she would have drawn out the -secret of its contents by the very magnetism of her eyes. For, even -while Sidonia was speaking, a thought flashed through her visitor's -mind--a thought which almost made her forget the purpose on which she -had come. She laid her hands upon it caressingly, trembling, eager to -see its contents. - -"Open it!" said Sidonia. "Touch the spring and look!" - -Theodora touched the little spring. The lid flew back and there flashed -from it a light which for a moment dazzled her by its very brilliancy. -She thrust the cabinet from her in alarm, imagining she inhaled the -odor of some deadly perfume. - -"Its glitter terrifies me!" she said. "Its odor sickens." - -"Your conscience frightens you," sneered Sidonia. - -Theodora rose to her feet, her face pale, her eyes alight with a -strange fire. - -"This to me?" she flashed. - -For a moment the two women faced each other in a white silence. - -A strange smile played upon Sidonia's lips. - -"The Aqua Tofana in the hands of a coward is a gift as fatal to its -possessor as to its victim!" - -"You are brave to speak such words to Theodora!" - -Sidonia gave her an inscrutable glance. - -"Why should I fear you? Even without these,--woman to woman," she -replied, as she drew the casket to herself and took out a phial, gilt -and chased with strange symbols. - -Sidonia took it up and immediately the liquid was filled with a million -sparks of fire. It was the Aqua Tofana, undiluted, instantaneous in its -effect, and not medicable by antidotes. Once administered there was -no more hope for its victim than for the souls of the damned who have -received the final judgment. One drop of the sparkling water upon the -tongue of a Titan would blast him like Jove's thunderbolt, shrivel him -up to a black, unsightly cinder. - -This terrible water was rarely used alone by the poisoners, but it -formed the basis of a hundred slower potions which ambition, fear or -hypocrisy, mingled with the element of time, and colored with the -various hues and aspects of natural disease. - -Theodora had again taken her seat and leaned towards Sidonia, -supporting her chin in the palm of her hands, as she bent eagerly over -the table, drinking in every word as the hot sand of the desert drinks -in the water that falls upon it. - -"What is that?" she pointed to a phial, white as milk and seemingly -harmless, and while she questioned, her busy brain worked with feverish -activity. The Aqua Tofana she had used when she struck down Roxana and -her too talkative lover on the night of the feast in her garden. But -now she required a different concoction to complete the vengeance on -her rival. - -"This is called Lac Misericordiae," replied Sidonia. "It brings on -painless consumption and decay! It eats the life out of man or woman, -while the moon empties and fills. The strong man becomes a skeleton. -Blooming maidens sink to their graves blighted and bloodless. Neither -saint or sacrament can arrest its doom. This phial"--and she took -another from the cabinet, replacing the first--"contains innumerable -griefs that wait upon the pillows of rejected and heartbroken lovers, -and the wisest mediciner is mocked by the lying appearances of disease -that defy his skill and make a mock of his wisdom." - -There was a moment's silence. At last Theodora spoke. - -"Have you nothing that will cause fear--dread--madness--ere it strikes -the victim dumb forever more? Something that produces in the brain -those dreadful visions--horrid shapes--peopling its chambers where -reason once held sway?" - -For a moment Sidonia and Theodora held each other's gaze, as if each -were wondering at the wickedness of the other. - -"This," Sidonia said at last, taking out a curiously twisted bottle, -containing a clear crimson liquid and sealed with the mystic Pentagon, -"contains the quintessence of mandrakes, distilled in the alembic, when -Scorpio rules the hour. It will produce what you desire." - -"How much of it is required to do this thing?" - -"Three drops. Within six hours the unfailing result will appear." - -"Give it to me!" - -"You possess rare ingenuity, Lady Theodora," said Sidonia, placing her -hand in that of her caller. "If Satan prompts you not, it is because he -can teach you nothing, either in love or stratagem." - -She shut up her infernal casket, leaving the phial of distilled -mandrakes, shining like a ruby in the lamp light, upon the table. By -its side lay a bag of gold. - -Theodora arose. The eyes of the two women flashed in lurid sympathy as -they parted, and Sidonia accompanied her visitor to the door. - -As she did so a heavy curtain in the background parted and the white -face of Basil peered into the empty room. - -After a brief interval Sidonia returned. - -Her face had again assumed its forbidding aspect as, removing the -phials and seemingly addressing no one, she said: - -"We are alone now!" - -At the next moment Basil stood in the chamber. His eyes burned with a -feverish lustre, and there was a horror in his countenance which he -strove in vain to conceal. - -"This must not be," he said hoarsely. "Why did you give her this -devil's brew?" - -And staggering up to the table he gripped the soft white wrist of the -woman with fingers of steel. - -Sidonia's eyes narrowed as she gazed into those of the man. - -"Do you love that one, too?" she said, wrenching herself free. "Or have -you lied to her as you have lied to me?" - -"Your voice sounds like the cry from a dark gallery that leads to -Hell," Basil replied. "You, alone, have I loved all these years, and -for your fell beauty have I risked all I have done and am about to do!" - -"Fear speaks in your voice," Sidonia replied with a cruel smile upon -her lips. "You are in my power, else had you long ago consigned me to a -place whence there is no return. With me the secret of another's death -would go to the grave." - -"Nay, you do not understand!" Basil interposed. "The woman who has -aroused Theodora's maddened jealousy is nothing to me. But I have other -plans concerning her--she must be saved!" - -"Other plans?" replied Sidonia darkly. "What other plans? What sort of -woman is she who can arouse the jealousy of Theodora?" - -"White and cold as the snows of the North." - -"A stranger in Rome?" - -"The wife of one whose days are numbered, if I rightly read the oracle." - -"What is this plan?" Sidonia insisted. - -"She is to be delivered to Hassan Abdullah, as reward for his aid in -the great stroke that is about to fall." - -In the distance whimpered a bell. - -"And, when the hour tolls--the hour of which you have so often -prated--when you sit in the high seat of the Senator of Rome--where -then will I be, who have watched your power grow and have aided it in -its upward flight?" - -Basil's face lighted up with the fires within. - -"Where else but by my side? Who dares defy us and the realms of the -Underworld?" - -"Who, indeed?" Sidonia replied with a dark, inscrutable glance into -Basil's face. "Perchance I should not love you as I do were you not as -evil as you are good to look upon! I love you, even though I know your -lying lips have professed love to many others, even though I know that -Theodora has kindled in you all the evil passions of your soul. Beware -how you play with me!" - -She threw back her wide sleeves and two dazzling white arms encircled -Basil's neck. - -"Await me yonder," she then turned to her visitor, pointing to a -chamber situated beyond the curtain. "We will talk this matter over!" - -Basil retired and Sidonia busied herself, replacing the different -phials in the ebony chest. - -After having assured herself that everything was in its place, she -picked up the lamp and disappeared behind the curtain in the background. - -Deep midnight silence reigned in the gorge of Mount Aventine. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -IN TENEBRIS - - -Another day had gone down the never returning tide of time. The sun was -sinking in a rosy bed of quilted clouds. All day long Hellayne had sat -brooding in her chamber, unable to shake off the lethargy of despair -that bound and benumbed her limbs, rousing herself at long intervals -just sufficiently to wring her hands for very anguish, without even the -faintest ray of hope to pierce the black night of her misery. - -Just as a white border of light had been visible on the edge of the -dark cloud that hung over her, just as she had refound the man whose -love was the very breath of her existence, her evil star had again -flamed in the ascendant and, losing him anew, she had utterly lost -herself. She struggled with her thoughts, as a drowning man amid -tossing waves, groping about in the dark for a plank to float upon, -when all else has sunk in the seas around him. - -She had hardly touched the food which Persephoné herself had brought to -her. Yet it seemed to her the Circassian had regarded her strangely, as -she placed the viands before her. She had tried to frame a question, -but her lips seemed to refuse the utterance, and at last Persephoné had -departed, with the mocking promise to return later, to inquire how the -Lady Hellayne had spent the day. - -Now it seemed to her as if a poison breath of evil was slowly -permeating the narrow confines of her chamber. Something she had never -before experienced was floating before her vision, was creeping into -her brain, was booming in her ears, was turning her blood to ice. - -Was it the voiceless echo of an ill-omened incantation, handed down -through generations of poisoners and witches from the time of pagan -Rome? - - "Hecaten voco, - Voco Tisiphonem, - Spargens avernales aquas, - Te morti devoveo; te diris ago." - -Was she going mad? - -Hellayne's hands went to her forehead. - -"I think I am sane," she said to herself, "at least--as yet." - -Would Heaven not come to her aid? She was but a weak woman who in -vain--too often in vain--had tried to snatch a few moments of happiness -from life. Ah! If Death knew what a service he would render her! But -no! She would brace her heart strings more than ever. She would renew -her fight with dusk and madness. She would face and challenge each mad -phantom--make it speak--reveal itself,--or she would break the silence -of that monstrous place at least with her own voice. Though flesh was -weak she would be strong to-night--but--ah God! here they came trooping -out of the night. - -She cowered back, shuddering, her eyes fixed on the dusky depths of the -chamber. - -It was the blue one--the one whose limbs and cheeks seemed made of pale -blue ice. She felt her limbs growing numb. But she would bar its way. - -The finger of the freezing shape was on its lip. Did it mean that it -was dumb? Well, then, let it speak by signs. The dim blue rays that -draped its silence quaked like aspens. - -"Who are you?" she forced herself to speak. "Are you Hate? You shake -your head? Are you Despair? No? Not that? Then you must be Fear!" - -The figure nodded with a horrible grin. - -"Fear of what?" - -The phantom passed its finger slowly across its throat. - -She held on to the panelling to keep from falling. Her woman's strength -had bounds. But she recovered herself and forced herself to speak. - -"Ah!" she said, "it is this she contemplates? How soon? I needs must -know. How many twilights have I still to live, before they sink my body -in yonder lotus pond?" - -The phantom held up three fingers. - -"Only three," Hellayne babbled like a child, talking to herself. -"Well--pass upon your way, phantom.--You have given me all you had to -give--three dusks to rise to Heaven." - -She raised her eyes in prayer and a strange rapture came into her face. -But it vanished suddenly--and once more she stared, shuddering, into -the gloom. - -For craze and hell still prevailed. - -Look, there it came! - -What new and monstrous phantom was swaying and groping towards her? A -headless monk!--The air grew black with horror. Horror shrivelled her -skin, was raising the roots of her hair. - -It was for her he was groping. Her wits were beginning to leave her. -She had to move this way and that to avoid him. She felt, if he only -touched her, madness would win the day. And he groped and groped, and -she seemed to feel him near to her. - -"Away! Away!" she shrieked. But she was wasting her breath. He had -neither eyes to see nor ears to hear. - -And he groped and groped, as if he felt her already under his vague, -white hands. - -"Help--God!" she shrieked. - -Nature could not cope with such shapes as these! - -And Hellayne fell forward in a swoon. - -It was late in the night when she regained consciousness. She opened -her eyes. The shapes of dusk had gone. She was alone--alone on the -stone floor of the chamber. Everything was still in the long dusky -gallery beyond. Perhaps it was all over for the night, and yet--what -was there upon the threshold? - -"Oh, my God! my God!" she cried. "Let me die--only not this horror!" - -There the phantom stood. Its scarlet mantle glimmered almost black. She -dared not turn her back. She dared not shut her eyes. He made neither -sign, nor beck, nor nod. But, like a crazy shadow, he circled round and -round her, soundlessly, as if he were treading on velvet. - -"Keep off--keep off!" she shrieked. "Protect me, oh my God! Madness is -closing in upon me!" - -And with a sudden, desperate movement she rushed at the phantom to tear -the crimson mask from its face. - -Her arms penetrated empty air. - -With a moan she sank upon the floor. Her arms spread out, she lay upon -her face. - -The swoon held her captive once more. - -But the dream was kinder to Hellayne than life. - -She stood upon a rocky promontory in her own far-off land of Provence. - -Before her spread the peace of the wide, glimmering sea. - -What are these golden columns through which the water glistens? - -A man stood within the ruins of a great temple, the sea before him, -violet hills behind. From the summit of an island mountain in the bay -the lilt of a tender song was drifting upwards. - -And, as he sang, the great sea stirred. It heaved, it writhed, it rose. -With onward movement, as of a coiling serpent, the whole vast liquid -brilliance rushed upon the temple. Mighty billows of beryl curved and -broke in sheets of white foam. - -"Fear nothing," said the man. "Your river has found the sea!" - -It was Tristan's voice. - -From the distance came the faint tolling of a bell, forlorn, as from a -forest chapel, infinitely sweet and tremulous. In a faint light, like a -mountain mist at dawn, the whole scene faded away, and Hellayne was in -a garden--a rose garden. She had been there before, but how different -it all was. She was being smothered in roses. Flame roses every -one--curled into fiery petal whorls, dancing in the garden dusk under a -red, red sky. - -Ah! There it is again, the terrible face, leering from among the -branches, the face that froze the blood in her veins, that made her -heart turn cold as ice and filled her soul with horror. - -It is the Count Laval. He is seeking her, seeking her everywhere. Horns -are peering out from under his scarlet cap, and he has long claws. - -Now she is fleeing through the rose garden, faster, faster, ever -faster. But he is gaining upon her. From bosquet to bosquet, from -thicket to thicket; she hears his approaching steps. Now she can almost -feel his breath upon her neck. - -At last he has overtaken her. - -Now he is circling round her, nearer and nearer, extending his hands -towards her, while she follows his movement with horror-stricken eyes. - -But her strength, her body, are paralyzed. - -As his hands close round her throat, his eyes gloating with dull -malice, she covers her face with her hands and falls with a shriek. - -And as she lies there before him, dead, he looks down upon her with a -strange smile upon his lips and casts his scarlet mantle over her. - -Once more Hellayne is in the throes of a swoon. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE CONSPIRACY - - -It was a night, moonless and starless. Deep silence brooded over the -city. Not a ray of light was in the sky. A dense fog hung like a -funeral pall over the Seven Hills, and a ceaseless, changeless drizzle -was sinking from the heavy clouds whose contours were indistinguishable -in the nocturnal gloom. The Tiber hardly moaned within his banks. The -city fires hissed and smouldered away under the descending rain, soon -to be extinguished altogether. - -It was about the second watch of the night when two men, wrapped in -dark mantles that covered them from head to foot, quitted the monastery -of San Lorenzo and were immediately swallowed up by the darkness. - -The night by this time was more dismal than ever. The wind began to -rise, and its fitful gusts howled round the stern old walls of the -monastery, or rustled in the laurels and cypresses by which it was -surrounded. The great gates were shut and barred. Hardly a light was to -be seen along the entire range of buildings. - -Suddenly a postern gate opened, and what appeared to be a monk, drawing -his black cowl completely over his head, came forth and hurried along -in the direction of the river. - -Tristan and his companion, emerging from their hiding-place, followed -at the farthest possible distance which allowed them to retain sight of -their quarry. Through a succession of the worst and narrowest by-lanes -of the city they tracked him to the Tiber's edge. - -Here, dark as it was, a boat was ready for launching. Five or six -persons were standing by, who seemed to recognize and address the monk. -Keeping in the shadows of the tall, ill-favored houses, the twain -contrived to approach near enough to hear somewhat that was said. - -"The light over yonder has been burning this half hour," said one of -the men. - -"I could not come before," said he in the monk's habit. "I was followed -by two men. I threw them out, however, before I reached the monastery -of San Lorenzo. But--by all the saints--lose no more time! We have lost -too much, as it is." - -He entered the boat as he spoke. It was pushed out into the water, and -in another moment the measured sound of oars came to their ears. - -Odo of Cluny turned to his companion. - -"Tell me, did he who spoke first and mentioned the light yonder on St. -Bartholomew's Island--a light there is yonder, sure enough--did he -resemble, think you, one we know?" - -"Both in voice and form," replied Tristan. - -"My thoughts point the same way as yours!" - -"I should know that voice wherever I heard it," Tristan muttered under -his breath. "But what of the light?" - -Dimly through the mist the red glow was discernible. - -"It beams from the deserted monastery," Odo replied after a pause. - -"Can we put across?" Tristan queried. - -"The question is not so much to find a boat as a landing-place, where -we shall not be seen." - -"There is a boat lying yonder. If my eyes do not deceive me, the -boatman lies asleep on the poop." - -"Know you aught of the men who rowed down the river?" Odo turned to the -boatman, after he had aroused him. - -The latter stared uncomprehendingly into the speaker's face. - -"I know of no men. I fell asleep for want of custom. It is a -God-forsaken spot," he added, rubbing his eyes. "Who would want a boat -on a night like this?" - -"We require even such a commodity," Odo replied. - -The boatman returned a dull, unresponsive glance and did not move from -his improvised couch. - -"Take your oars and row us to the Tiber Island," Odo said sternly, -"unless you would bring upon yourself the curse of the Church. We have -a weighty matter that brooks no delay. And have a care to avoid that -other boat which has preceded yours. We must not be seen." - -Something in Odo's voice seemed to compel, and soon they were afloat, -the boatman bending to his oars. They drifted through the dense mist -and soon a dilapidated flight of landing stairs hove in sight, leading -up to the deserted monastery. - -"Had we chosen the usual landing-place, we should have found two boats -moored there--I saw them as we turned." Odo turned to his companion. -"Yet we dare not land here. We should be seen from the shore." - -Directing their Charon to row his craft higher up, Odo soon discovered -the place of which he was in quest. It was a little cove. The rocks -which bordered it were slippery with seaweed, and in that misty -obscurity offered no very safe footing. - -Here the boat was moored, and Odo and his companion clambered slowly, -but steadily, over the rocks and, in a few moments, had made good their -landing. - -Having directed the boatman to await their call in the shadow of -the opposite bank, where he might remain unseen, they continued to -grope their way upward, till they reached the angles of a wall which -converged here, sheltered by a projecting pent house. Voices were -heard issuing from within. - -"We must have ample security, my lord," said a speaker, whose voice Odo -recognized as the voice of Basil. "You require of us to do everything. -You exact ties and pledges and hostages, and you offer nothing." - -"I am desirous of sparing, as much as may be, the blood of my men," -replied the person addressed. "Rome must be my lord's without conflict." - -"That may--or may not be," said the first speaker. "But so much you may -say to the Lord Ugo. If he expects to reconquer Rome, he will need all -the forces he can summon." - -"A wiser man than you or I, my lord, has said: 'Never force a foe to -stand at bay,'" interposed a third. "Reject our offers, and we, whom -you might have for your friends, you will have for your most bitter -and determined foes. Accept our terms, and Rome, together with the -Emperor's Tomb, is yours!" - -"What terms are contained in this paper?" queried Ugo's emissary. - -"They are not very difficult to remember!" returned the Grand -Chamberlain. "But I might as well repeat them here. First--the revenues -of all the churches to flow to the Holy See." - -"Proceed." - -"Utmost security of life, person and property to those who are aiding -our enterprise." - -"It is well," said the voice. "So much I can vouch for, my lord. Is -that all?" - -"All--as far as conditions go," returned the third speaker. - -"It is not all, by St. Demetrius," cried Basil. "I claim the office -I am holding with all its privileges and appurtenances, to give no -account to any one of the past or the future." - -"What of the present?" interposed the voice. - -"You never could imagine that I perilled my neck only to secure your -lord in his former possessions, which he so cowardly abandoned," said -Basil contemptuously. "I claim the hand of the Lady Theodora--" - -"Theodora?" cried the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany, turning fiercely upon -the speaker. "Surely you are mad, my lord, to imagine that the Lord Ugo -would peril his reign with the presence of this woman within the same -walls that witnessed the regime of her sister--" - -"Mind your own business, my lord," interposed Basil. "What the man -thinks who fled from Castel San Angelo at the first cry of revolt, the -man who slunk away like a thief in the night, is nothing to me. We make -the conditions. It is for him to accept or reject them, as he sees fit." - -A rasping voice, speaking a villainous jargon, made itself heard at -this juncture. - -"What of my Saracens, mighty lord?" Hassan Abdullah, for no lesser than -the great Mahometan chieftain was the speaker, turned to the Grand -Chamberlain. "I, too, am desirous of sparing the blood of my soldiers -and, insofar as lies within my power, that of the Nazarenes also. For -it is written in the book: Slavery for infidels--but death only for -apostates." - -"Our compact is sealed beyond recall," Basil made reply. - -"Then you will deliver the woman into my hands?" - -There was a pause. - -"She shall be delivered into the hands of Hassan Abdullah! And he -will sail away with his white-plumed bird--the fairest flower of the -North--and the ransom of a city." - -"Yet I do not know the lady's name," said the Saracen. "This I should -know--else how may she heed my call?" - -"Those who love her call her Hellayne." - -At the name Tristan started so violently that the monk caught his arm -in a grip of steel. - -"Silence--if you value your life," Odo enjoined. - -"When and where is she to be delivered into my hands?" Hassan Abdullah -continued. - -"The place will be made known to you, my lord," Basil replied, "when -the Emperor's Tomb hails its new master." - -"Here is an infernal plot," Odo whispered into Tristan's ear, "spawned -up by the very Prince of Darkness." - -"What can we do?" came back the almost soundless reply. "Hellayne to be -delivered over to this infidel dog! Nay, do not restrain me, Father--" - -"There are six to two of us," Odo interposed. "Silence! Some one -speaks." - -It was the voice of the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany. - -"Although it seems like a taunt, to fling into the face of my lord the -sister of the woman who was the cause of his defeat--" - -"His coward soul was the cause of the Lord Ugo's defeat," Basil -interposed hotly. "In the dark of night, by means of a rope he let -himself down from his lair, to escape the wrath of the fledgling he had -struck for an unintentional affront. Did the Lord Ugo even inquire into -the fate of the woman who perished miserably in the dungeons of the -Emperor's Tomb?" - -"Let us not be hasty," interposed another. "The Lord Ugo will listen to -reason." - -"The conditions are settled," Basil replied. "On the third night from -to-night!" - -The conspirators rose and, emerging from the ruined refectory, made -their way down to their boat. - -Soon the sound of oars, becoming fainter and fainter, informed the -listeners that the company had departed. - -Tristan's face was very white. - -"What is to be done?" he turned pathetically to the monk who stood -brooding by his side. "I almost wish I had let my fate overtake me--" - -"Do not blaspheme," Odo interposed. "Sometimes divine aid is nearest -when it seems farthest removed. In three days the blow is to fall! In -three days Rome is to be turned over to the infidels who are ravaging -our southern coasts, and the Tuscan is once more to hold sway in the -Tomb of the former Master of the World. But not he--Basil will rule, -for Ugo has his hands full in Ivrea. With Basil Theodora will lord it -from yonder castello. He will let the Lord Ugo burn his hands and he -will snatch the golden fruit. I will pray that this feeble hand may -undo their dark plotting." - -"What is Rome to me? What the universe?" Tristan interposed, "if she -whom I love better than life is lost to me?" - -The monk turned to him laying his hand upon his shoulder. - -"You have been miraculously delivered from the very jaws of death. You -will save the woman you love from dishonor and shame." - -Odo pondered for a pace then he continued: - -"There is one in Rome--who is encompassing your destruction. The foul -crime in the Lateran of which you were the victim is but another proof -of the schemes of the Godless, who have desecrated the churches of -Christ for their hellish purposes. We must find their devil's chapel, -hidden somewhere beneath the soil of Rome. None shall escape." - -"How will you bring this about, Father?" Tristan queried despairingly. - -"The soldiers of the Church have not been bribed," Odo replied. -"Listen, my son, and do you as I direct. On to-morrow's eve Theodora -gives one of her splendid feasts. Go you disguised. Watch--but speak -not. Listen--but answer not. Who knows but that you may receive tidings -of your lost one? As for myself, I shall seek one whose crimes lie -heavily upon him, one who trembles with the fear of death, at whose -door he lies--Il Gobbo--the bravo. His master has dealt him a mortal -wound to remove the last witness of his crimes. Come to me on the -second day at dusk." - -Emerging from the shadows of the wall, Tristan hailed the boatman, and -a few moments later they were being rowed towards a solitary spot near -the base of the Aventine, where they paid and dismissed their Charon -and disappeared among the ruins. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE BROKEN SPELL - - -Again there was feasting and high revels in the palace of Theodora -on Mount Aventine. Colored lanterns were suspended between the -interstices of orange and oleander trees; and incense rose in spiral -coils from bronze and copper vessels, concealed among leafy bowers. -The great banquet hall was thronged with a motley crowd of Romans, -Greeks, men from the coasts of Africa and Iceland, Spaniards, Persians, -Burgundians, Lombards, men from the steppes of Sarmatia, and the amber -coast of the Baltic. Here and there groups were discussing the wines or -the viands or the gossip of the day. - -The guests marvelled at the splendor, wealth and the variegated -mosaics, the gilded walls, the profusion of beautiful marble columns -and the wonderfully groined ceiling. It was a veritable banquet of -the senses. The fairylike radiance of the hall with its truly eastern -splendor captivated the eye. From remote grottoes came the sounds of -flutes, citherns and harps, quivering through the dreaming summer night. - -On ebony couches upon silver frames, covered with rare tapestries -and soft cushions, the guests reclined. Between two immense, -crescent-shaped tables, made of citron wood and inlaid with ivory, rose -a miniature bronze fountain, representing Neptune. From it spurted -jets of scented water, which cooled and perfumed the air. - -Not in centuries had there been such a feast in Rome. Mountain, plain -and the sea had been relentlessly laid under tribute, to surrender -their choicest towards supplying the sumptuous board. - -Nubian slaves in spotless white kept at the elbows of the guests and -filled the golden flagons as quickly as they were emptied. A powerful -Cyprian wine, highly spiced, was served. Under its stimulating -influence the revellers soon gave themselves up to the reckless -enjoyment of the hour. - -As the feast proceeded the guests cried more loudly for flagons of the -fiery ecobalda. They quaffed large quantities of this wine and their -faces became flushed, their eyes sparkled and their tongues grew more -and more free. The temporary restraint they had imposed upon themselves -gradually vanished. In proportion as they partook of the fiery vintage -their conviviality increased. - -The roll-call was complete. None was found missing. Here was the Lord -of Norba and Boso, Lord of Caprara. Here was the Lord Atenulf of -Benevento, the Lord Amgar, from the coasts of the Baltic; here was -Bembo the poet, Eugenius the philosopher and Alboin, Lord of Farfa. -Here was the Prefect of Rome and Roger de Laval. He, too, had joined -the throng of idolators at the shrine of Theodora. The Lord Guaimar of -Salerno was there, and Guido, Duke of Spoleto. - -The curtain at the far end of the banquet hall slowly parted. - -On the threshold stood Theodora. - -Silent, rigid, she gazed into the hall. - -Like a sudden snow on a summer meadow, a white silence fell from her -imagination across that glittering, gleaming tinselled atmosphere. -Everywhere the dead seemed to sit around her, watching, as in a trance, -strange antics of the grimacing dead. - -A vision of beauty she appeared, radiantly attired, a jewelled diadem -upon her brow. By her side appeared Basil, the Grand Chamberlain. - -When her gaze fell upon the motley crowd, a disgust, such as she had -never known, seized her. - -She seated herself on the dais, reserved for her, and with queenly -dignity bade her guests welcome. - -Basil occupied the seat of honor at her right, Roger de Laval at her -left. - -Had any one watched the countenances of Theodora and of Basil he -would have surprised thereon an expression of ravening anxiety. To -themselves they appeared like two players, neither knowing the next -move of his opponent, yet filled with the dire assurance that upon this -move depended the fate of the house of cards each has built upon a -foundation of sand. - -At last the Count de Laval arose and whirled his glass about his head. - -"Twine a wreath about your cups," he shouted, "and drink to the glory -of the most beautiful woman in the world--the Lady Theodora." - -They rose to their feet and shouted their endorsement till the very -arches seemed to ring with the echoes. His initiative was received -with such favor by the others that, fired with the desire to emulate -his example, they fell to singing and shouting the praise of the woman -whose beauty had not its equal in Rome. - -Theodora viewed the scene of dissipation with serenity and composure, -and, by her attitude she seemed, in a strange way, even tacitly to -encourage them to drink still deeper. Faster, ever faster, the wine -coursed among the guests. Some of them became more and more boisterous, -others were rendered somnolent and fell forward in a stupor upon the -silken carpets. - -Theodora, whose restlessness seemed to increase with every moment, and -who seemed to hold herself in leash by a strenuous effort of the will, -suddenly turned to Basil and whispered a question into his ear. - -A silent nod came in response and the next moment a clash of cymbals, -stormily persistent, roused the revellers from their stupor. Then, like -a rainbow garmented Peri, floating easefully out of some far-off sphere -of sky-wonders, an aerial maiden shape glided into the full lustre of -the varying light, a dancer nude, save for the glistening veil that -carelessly enshrouded her limbs, her arms and hands being adorned with -circlets of tiny golden bells which kept up a melodious jingle as she -moved. And now began the strangest music, music that seemed to hover -capriciously between luscious melody and harsh discord, a wild and -curious medley of fantastic minor suggestions in which the imaginative -soul might discover hints of tears and folly, love and madness. To -this uncertain yet voluptuous measure the glittering girl dancer -leaped forward with a startling abruptness and, halting as it were on -the boundary line between the dome and the garden beyond, raised her -rounded arms in a snowy arch above her head. - -Her pause was a mere breathing spell in duration. Dropping her arms -with a swift decision, she hurled herself into the giddy mazes of a -dance. Round and round she floated, like an opal-winged butterfly -in a net of sunbeams, now seemingly shaken by delicate tremors, -as aspen leaves are shaken by the faintest wind, now assuming the -most voluptuous eccentricities of posture, sometimes bending down -wistfully as though she were listening to the chanting of demon voices -underground, and again, with her waving white hands, appearing to -summon spirits to earth from their wanderings in the upper air. Her -figure was in perfect harmony with the seductive grace of her gestures; -not only her feet, but her whole body danced, her very features bespoke -abandonment to the frenzy of her rapid movement. Her large black eyes -flashed with something of fierceness as well as languor; and her raven -hair streamed behind her like a darkly spread wing. - -Wild outbursts of applause resounded uproariously through the hall. - -Count Roger had drawn nearer to Theodora. His arms encircled her body. - -Theodora bent over him. - -"Not to-night! Not to-night! There are many things to consider. -To-morrow I shall give you my answer." - -He looked up into her eyes. - -"Do you not love me?" - -His hot breath fanned her cheeks. - -Theodora gave a shrug and turned away, sick with disgust. - -"Love--I hardly know what it means. I do not think I have ever loved." - -Laval sucked in his breath between his teeth. - -"Then you shall love me! You shall! Ever since I have come to Rome have -I desired you! And the woman lives not who may gainsay my appeal." - -She smiled tauntingly. - -He had seized her hand. The fierceness of his grip made her gasp with -pain. - -"And whatever brought you to Rome?" she turned to him. - -"I came in quest of one who had betrayed my honor." - -"And you found her?" - -"Both!" came the laconic reply. - -"How interesting," purred Theodora, suffering his odious embrace, -although she shuddered at his touch. - -"And, man-like, you were revenged?" - -"She has met the fate I had decreed upon her who wantonly betrayed the -honor of her lord." - -"Then she confessed?" - -"She denied her guilt. What matter? I never loved her. It is you I -love! You, divine Theodora." - -And, carried away by a gust of passion, he drew her to him, covering -her brow, her hair, her cheeks with kisses. But she turned away her -mouth. - -She tried to release herself from his embrace. - -Roger uttered an oath. - -"I have tamed women before--ay--and I shall tame you," he sputtered, -utterly disregarding her protests. - -She drew back as far as his encircling arms permitted. - -"Release me, my lord!" she said, her dark eyes flashing fire. "You are -mad!" - -"No heroics--fair Theodora-- Has the Wanton Queen of Rome turned into a -haloed saint?" - -He laughed. His mouth was close to her lips. - -Revulsion and fury seized her. Disengaging her hands she struck him -across the face. - -There was foam on his lips. He caught her by the throat. Now he was -forcing her beneath his weight with the strength of one insane with -uncontrollable passion. - -"Help!" she screamed with a choking sensation. - -A shadow passed before her eyes. Everything seemed to swim around -her in eddying circles of red. Then a gurgling sound. The grip on -her throat relaxed. Laval rolled over upon the floor in a horrible -convulsion, gasped and expired. - -Basil's dagger had struck him through, piercing his heart. - -Slowly Theodora arose. She was pale as death. Her guests, too much -engaged with their beautiful partners, had been attracted to her plight -but by her sudden outcry. - -They stared sullenly at the dead man and turned to their former -pursuits. - -Theodora clapped her hands. - -Two giant Nubians appeared. She pointed to the corpse at her feet. They -raised it up between them, carried it out and sank it in the Lotus -lake. Others wiped away the stains of blood. - -Basil bent over Theodora's hands, and covered them with kisses, -muttering words of endearment which but increased the discord in her -heart. - -She released herself, resuming her seat on the dais. - -"It is the old fever," she turned to the man beside her. "You purchase -and I sell! Nay"--she added as his lips touched her own--"there is no -need for a lover's attitude when hucksters meet." - -Though the guests had returned to their seats, a strange silence had -fallen upon the assembly. The rhythmical splashing of the water in the -fountain and the labored breathing of the distressed wine-Bibbie's -seemed the only sounds that were audible for a time. - -"But I love you, Theodora," Basil spoke with strangely dilated eyes. -"I love you for what you are, for all the evil you have wrought! You, -alone! For you have I done this thing! For you Alberic lies dead in -some unknown glen. For you have I summoned about us those who shall -seat you in the high place that is yours by right of birth." - -Theodora was herself again. With upraised hand, that shone marble white -in the ever-changing light, she enjoined silence. - -"What of that other?" she said, while her eyes held those of the man -with their magic spell. - -"What other?" he stammered, turning pale. - -"That one!" she flashed. - -At that moment the curtain parted again and into the changing light, -emitted by the great revolving globe, swayed a woman. At first -it seemed a statue of marble that had become animated and, ere -consciousness had resumed its sway, was slowly gaining life and motion, -still bound up in the dream existence into which some unknown power had -plunged her. - -As one petrified, Basil stared at the swaying form of Hellayne. A white -transparent byssus veil enveloped the beautiful limbs. Her wonderful -bare arms were raised above her head, which was slightly inclined, as -in a listening attitude. She seemed to move unconsciously as under a -spell or as one who walks in her sleep. Her eyes were closed. The pale -face showed suffering, yet had not lost one whit of its marvellous -beauty. - -The revellers stared spellbound at what, to their superstitious minds, -seemed the wraith of slain Roxana returned to earth to haunt her rival. - -Suddenly, without warning, the dark-robed form of a man dashed from -behind a pillar. No one seemed to have noted his presence. Overthrowing -every impediment, he bounded straight for Hellayne, when he saw the -lithe form snatched up before his very eyes and her abductor disappear -with his burden, as if the ground had swallowed them. - -It seemed to Tristan that he was rushing through an endless succession -of corridors and passages, crossing each other at every conceivable -angle, in his mad endeavor to snatch his precious prey from her -abductor when, in a rotunda in which these labyrinthine passages -converged, he found himself face to face with an apparition that seemed -to have risen from the floor. - -Before him stood Theodora. - -Her dark shadow was wavering across the moonlit network of light. The -red and blue robes of the painted figures on the wall glowed about her -like blood and azure, while the moonlight laid lemon colored splashes -upon the varied mosaics of the floor. - -His pulses beating furiously, a sense of suffocation in his throat, -Tristan paused as the woman barred his way. - -"Let me pass!" he said imperiously, trying to suit the action to the -word. - -But he had not reckoned with the woman's mood. - -"You shall not," Theodora said, a strange fire gleaming in her eyes. - -"Where is Hellayne? What have you done with her?" - -Theodora regarded him calmly from under drooping lashes. - -"That I will tell you," she said with a mocking voice. "It was my good -fortune to rescue her from the claws of one who has again got her into -his power. Her mind is gone, my Lord Tristan! Be reconciled to your -fate!" - -"Surely you cannot mean this?" Tristan gasped, his face under the -monk's cowl pale as death, while his eyes stared unbelievingly into -those of the woman. - -"Is not what you have seen, proof that I speak truth?" Theodora -interposed, slightly veiled mockery in her tone. - -"Then this is your deed," Tristan flashed. - -Theodora gave a shrug. - -"What if it were?" - -"She is in Basil's power?" - -"An experienced suitor." - -"Woman, why have you done this thing to me?" - -His hands went to his head and he reeled like a drunken man. - -Theodora laid her hands on Tristan's shoulders. - -"Because I want you--because I love you, Tristan," she said slowly, and -her wonderful face seemed to become illumined as it were, from within. -"Nay--do not shrink from me! I know what you would say! Theodora--the -courtesan queen of Rome! You deem I have no heart--no soul. You deem -that these lips, defiled by the kisses of beasts, cannot speak truth. -Yet, if I tell you, Tristan, that this is the first and only time in my -life that I have loved, that I love you with a love such as only those -know who have thirsted for it all their lives, yet have never known but -its base counterfeit; if I tell you--that upon your answer depends my -fate--my life--Tristan--will you believe--will you save the woman whom -nothing else on earth can save?" - -"I do not believe you," Tristan replied. - -Theodora's face had grown white to the lips. - -"You shall stay--and you shall listen to me!" she said, without raising -her voice, as if she were discoursing upon some trifling matter, and -Tristan obeyed, compelled by the look in her eyes. - -Theodora felt Tristan's melancholy gaze resting upon her, as it had -rested upon her at their first meeting. Was not he, too, like herself, -a lone wanderer in this strange country called the world! But his -manhood had remained unsullied. How she envied and how she hated that -other woman to whom his love belonged. Softly she spoke, as one speaks -in a dream. - -She had gone forth in quest of happiness--happiness at any price. And -she had paid the forfeit with a poisoned life. The desire to conquer -had eclipsed every other. The lure of the senses was too mighty to be -withstood. Yet how short are youth and life! One should snatch its -pleasures while one may. - -How fleet had been the golden empty days of joy. She had drained -the brimming goblet to the dregs. If he misjudged her motive, her -self-abasement, if he spurned the love she held out to him, the one -supreme sacrifice of her life had been in vain. She would fight for -it. Soul and body she would throw herself into the conflict. Her last -chance of happiness was at stake. The poison, rankling in her veins, -she knew could not be expelled by idle sophisms. Life, the despot, -claimed his dues. Had she lived utterly in vain? Not altogether! She -would atone, even though the bonds of her own forging, which bound her -to an ulcered past, could be broken but by the hand of that crowned -phantom: Death. - -Now she was kneeling before him. She had grasped his hands. - -"I love you!" she wailed. "Tristan, I love you and my love is killing -me! Be merciful. Have pity on me. Love me! Be mine--if but for an -hour! It is not much to ask! After, do with me what you will! Torture -me--curse me before Heaven--I care not--I am yours--body and soul.--I -love you!" - -Her voice vibrated with mad idolatrous pleading. - -He tried to release himself. She dragged herself yet closer to him. - -"Tristan! Tristan!" she murmured. "Have you a heart? Can you reject me -when I pray thus to you? When I offer you all I have? All that I am, or -ever hope to be? Am I so repellent to you? Many men would give their -lives if I were to say to them what I say to you. They are nothing to -me--you alone are my world, the breath of my existence. You, alone, can -save me from myself!" - -Tristan felt his senses swooning at the sight of her beauty. He tried -to speak, but the words froze on his lips. It was too impossible, too -unbelievable. Theodora, the most beautiful, the most powerful woman -in Rome was kneeling before him, imploring that which any man in Rome -would have deemed himself a thousand fold blessed to receive. And he -remained untouched. - -She read his innermost thoughts and knew the supreme moment when she -must win or lose him forever was at hand. - -"Tristan--Tristan," she sobbed--and in the distant grove sobbed flutes -and sistrum and citherns--"say what you will of me; it is true. I own -it. Yet I am not worse than other women who have sold their souls for -power or gold. Am I not fair to look upon? And is all this beauty of -my face and form worthless in your eyes, and you no more than man? -Kill me--destroy me--I care naught. But love me--as I love you!" and -in a perfect frenzy of self-abandonment she rose to her feet and stood -before him, a very bacchante of wild loveliness and passion. "Look upon -me! Am I not more beautiful than the Lady Hellayne? You shall not--dare -not--spurn such love as mine!" - -Deep silence supervened. The expression of her countenance seemed quite -unearthly; her eyes seemed wells of fire and the tense white arms -seemed to seek a victim round which they might coil themselves to its -undoing. - -The name she had uttered in her supreme outburst of passion had broken -the spell she had woven about him. - -Hellayne--his white dove! What was her fate at this moment while he was -listening to the pleadings of the enchantress? - -Theodora advanced towards him with outstretched arms. - -He stayed her with a fierce gesture. - -"Stand back!" he said. "Such love as yours--what is it? Shame to -whosoever shall accept it! I desire you not." - -"You dare not!" she panted, pale as death. - -"Dare not?" - -But she was now fairly roused. All the savagery in her nature was -awakened and she stood before him like some beautiful wild animal at -bay, trembling from head to foot with the violence of her passion. - -"You scorn me!" she said in fierce, panting accents, that scarcely -rose above an angry whisper. "You make a mockery of my anguish and -despair--holding yourself aloof with your prated virtue! But you shall -suffer for it! I am your match! You shall not spurn me a third time! I -have humbled myself in the dust before you, I, Theodora--and you have -spurned the love I have offered you--you have spurned Theodora--for -that white marble statue whom I should strangle before your very eyes -were she here! You shall not see her again, my Lord Tristan. Her -fate is sealed from this moment. On the altars of Satan is she to be -sacrificed on to-morrow night!" - -Tristan listened like paralyzed to her words, unable to move. - -She saw her opportunity. She sprang at him. Her arms coiled about him. -Her moist kisses seared his lips. - -"Oh Tristan--Tristan," she pleaded, "forgive me, forgive! I know not -what I say! I hunger for the kisses of your lips, the clasp of your -arms! Do you know--do you ever think of your power? The cruel terrible -power of your eyes, the beauty that makes you more like an angel than -man? Have you no pity? I am well nigh mad with jealousy of that other -whom you keep enshrined in your heart! Could she love, like I? She was -not made for you--I am! Tristan--come with me--come--" - -Tighter and tighter her arms encircled his neck. The moonbeams showed -him her eyes alight with rapture, her lips quivering with passion, her -bosom heaving. The blood surged up in his brain and a red mist swam -before his eyes. - -With a supreme effort Tristan released himself. Flinging her from him, -he rushed out of the rotunda as if pursued by an army of demons. If he -remained another moment he knew he was lost. - -A lightning bolt shot down from the dark sky vault close beside him as -he reached the gardens, and a peal of thunder crashed after in quick -succession. - -It drowned the delirious outburst of laughter that shrilled from the -rotunda where Theodora, with eyes wide with misery and madness, stared -as transfixed down the path where Tristan had vanished in the night. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE BLACK MASS - - -The night was sultry and dismal. - -Dense black clouds rolled over the Roman Campagna, burning blue in -the flashes of jagged lightnings and the low boom of distant thunder -reverberated ominously among the hills and valleys of Rome, when three -men, cloaked and wearing black velvet masks, skirted the huge mediæval -wall with which Pope Leo IV had girdled the gardens of the Vatican and, -passing along the fortified rampart which surrounded the Vatican Hill, -plunged into the trackless midnight gloom of deep, branch-shadowed -thickets. - -Not a word was spoken between them. Silently they followed their -leader, whose tall, dark form was revealed to them only among the dense -network of trees and the fantastic shapes of the underbrush, when a -flash of white lightning flamed across the limitless depths of the -midnight horizon. - -Not a sound broke the stillness, save the menacing growl of the -thunder, the intermittent soughing of the wind among the branches, or -the occasional drip-drip of dewy moisture trickling tearfully from the -leaves, mingling with the dreamy, gurgling sound of the fountains, -concealed among bosquets of orange and almond trees. - -From time to time, as they proceeded upon their nocturnal errand, the -sounds of their footsteps being swallowed up by the soft carpet of -moss, they caught fleet glimpses of marble statues, gleaming white, -like ghosts, from among the tall dark cypresses, or the shimmering -surface of a marble-cinctured lake, mirrored in the sheen of the -lightnings. - -The grove they traversed assumed by degrees the character of a tropical -forest. Untrodden by human feet, it seemed as though nature, grown -tired of the iridescent floral beauty of the environing gardens, had, -in a sudden malevolent mood, torn and blurred the fair green frondage -and twisted every bud awry, till the awkward, misshapen limbs resembled -the contorted branches of wind-blown trees. Great jagged leaves covered -with prickles and stained with blotches as of spilt poison, thick brown -stems, glistening with slimy moisture and coiled up like the sleeping -bodies of snakes, masses of blue and purple fungi, and blossoms -seemingly of the orchid-species, some like fleshly tongues, others like -the waxen yellow fingers of a dead hand, protruded spectrally through -the matted foliage, while all manner of strange overpowering odors -increased the swooning oppressiveness of the sultry, languorous air. - -Arrived at a clearing they paused. - -In the distance the Basilica of Constantine was sunk in deep repose. -All about them was the pagan world. Goat-footed Pan seemed to peer -through the interstices of the branches. The fountains crooned in their -marble basins. Centaurs and Bacchantes disported themselves among the -flowering shrubs and, dark against the darker background of the night, -the vast ramparts of Leo IV seemed to shut out light and life together. - -The Prefect of the Camera turned to his companions, after peering -cautiously into the thickets. - -"We must wait for the guards," he said in a whisper. "It were perilous -to proceed farther without them." - -Tristan's hand tightened upon his sword-hilt. There were tears in -his eyes when he thought of Hellayne and all that was at stake, the -overthrow of the enemies of Christ. He had, in a manner, conquered the -terrible fear that had palsied heart and soul as they had started out -after nightfall. Now, taking his position as he found it, since he felt -that his fate was ruled by some unseen force which he might not resist, -he was upheld by a staunch resolution to do his part in the work -assigned to him and thereby to merit forgiveness and absolution. - -Notwithstanding the enforced calm that filled his soul, there were -moments when, assailed by a terrible dread, lest he might be too late -to prevent the unspeakable crime, his energies were almost paralyzed. -Silent as a ghost he had traversed the grove by the side of his equally -silent companions, more intent upon his quarry than the patient, -velvet-footed puma that follows in the high branches of the trees the -unsuspecting traveller below. - -Was it his imagination, was it the beating of his own heart in the -silence that preceded the breaking of the storm; or did he indeed hear -the dull throbbing of the drums that heralded the approach of the -crimson banners of Satan? - -The wind increased with every moment. The thunder growled ever nearer. -The heavens were one sheet of flame. The trees began to bend their tops -to the voice of the hurricane. The air was hot as if blown from the -depths of the desert. As the uproar of the elements increased, strange -sounds seemed to mingle with the voices of the storm. Black shadows -as of dancing witches darkened the clearing, spread and wheeled, -interlaced and disentwined. In endless thousands they seemed to fly, -like the withered and perishing leaves of autumn. - -Involuntarily Tristan grasped the arm of the Monk of Cluny. - -"Are these real shapes--or do my eyes play me false?" he faltered, an -expression of terror on his countenance, such as no consideration of -earthly danger could have evoked. - -"To-night, my son, we are invincible," replied the monk. "Trust in the -Crucified Christ!" - -Across the plaisaunce, washed white by the sheen of the lightnings, -there was a stir as of an approaching forest. Tristan watched as in the -throes of a dream. - -A few moments later the little band was joined by the newcomers, -masked, garbed in sombre black and heavily armed, three-score -Spaniards, trusted above their companions for their loyalty and -allegiance to Holy Church. Among them Tristan recognized the -Cardinal-Archbishop of Ravenna, the Bishop of Orvieto and the Prefect -of Rome. - -Odo of Cluny noted Tristan's shrinking at the sight of the two men who -had been present when the terrible accusation had been hurled against -him on that fatal morning--the accusation in the Lateran, which had -launched him in the dungeons of Castel San Angelo. - -He comforted the trembling youth. - -"They know now that the charge was false," he said. "To-night we shall -conquer. We shall set our foot upon Satan's neck." - -Withdrawing under the shelter of the trees, regardless of the -increasing fury of the storm, the leaders held whispered consultation. - -Before them, set in the massive wall, appeared a door not more than -five feet high, studded with large nails. - -The Prefect of Rome bent forward and inserted a gleaming piece of steel -in the keyhole. After a wrench or two, which convinced the onlookers -that the door had been long in disuse, it swung inward with a groan. -The Prefect, with a muttered imprecation, beckoned his followers to -enter, and when they were assembled in what appeared to be a courtyard, -he took pains to close the door himself, to avoid the least noise that -might reach the ear of those within the enclosure. - -At the far end of this courtyard a shadowy pavilion arose, culled -from the Stygian gloom by the sheen of the lightnings. It seemed -to have been erected in remote antiquity. A circular structure of -considerable extent, its ruinous exterior revealed traces of Etruscan -architecture. No one dared set foot in it, for it was rumored to be -the abode of evil spirits. Its interior was reported to be a network -of intricate galleries, leading into subterranean chambers, secret and -secluded places into which human foot never strayed, for, not unlike -the catacombs, it was well-nigh impossible to find the exit from its -labyrinthine passages without the saving thread of Ariadné. - -At a signal from the Prefect of the Camera all stopped. Heavy drops of -rain were falling. The hurricane increased in fury. - -It was a weird scene and one the memory of which lingered long after -that eventful night with Tristan. - -Black cypresses and holm-oaks formed a dense wall around the pavilion -on two sides. In the distance the white limbs of some pagan statues -could be seen gleaming through the dark foliage. And, as from a -subterranean cavern, a distant droning chant struck the ear now and -then with fateful import. - -Now the Prefect of Rome threw off his cloak. The others did likewise. -Their masks they retained. - -"There is a secret entrance, unknown even to these spawns of hell, -behind the pavilion," he addressed his companions in a subdued tone, -hardly audible in the shrieking of the storm. "It is concealed among -tall weeds and has long been in disuse. The door is almost invisible -and they think themselves safe in the performance of their iniquities -below." - -"How can we reach this pit of hell?" Tristan, quivering with -ill-repressed excitement interposed at this juncture. He could hardly -restrain himself. On every moment hung the life of the being dearer -to him than all the world, and he chafed under the restraint like a -restive steed. If they should be too late, even now! - -But the Prefect retained his calm demeanor knowing what was at stake. -It was not enough to locate the chapel of Satan. Those participating in -the unholy rites must not be given the chance to escape. They must be -taken, dead or alive, to the last man. - -"We have with us one who is familiar with every nook in the city of -Rome," the Prefect turned to the Cardinal-Archbishop of Ravenna. "Long -have we suspected that all is not well in the deserted pavilion. But -though we watched by day and by night nothing seemed to reward our -efforts, until one stormy night a dreadful shape with the face of a -devil came forth, and the sight so paralyzed those who watched from -afar that they fled in dismay, believing it was the Evil One in person -who had come forth from the bowels of the earth. From yonder door a -dark corridor leads to a shaft whence it winds in a slight incline into -the devil's chapel below. The latter is so situated that we can watch -these outcasts at their devotions, unseen, our presence unguessed. This -way! Let silence be the password. Keep in touch with each other, for -the darkness is as that of the grave." - -A flash of lightning that seemed to rend the very heavens enveloped -them for a moment in its sulphureous glare, followed by a crash of -thunder that shook the very earth. The hurricane shrieked, and the rain -came down in torrents. - -They had advanced to the very edge of the underbrush, stumbling over -the heads and torsos of broken statues that lay among parasitic -herbage. Monstrous decaying leaves curled upward, leprous in the -lightnings. A poison mist seemed to hover over this lonely and deserted -pleasure-house of ancient Pelasgian days. - -Skirting the haunted pavilion, unmindful of the onslaught of the -elements, they took a path so narrow that they could but advance in -single file. This path had been cut and beaten by the Prefect's guards, -for the weeds and underbrush luxuriated, until they mounted some ten -feet against the walls of the pavilion. - -They had now reached the back wall and proceeded in utter darkness -broken only by the flashes of lightning. They passed through a -half-ruined archway and at last came to a halt, prompted by those in -front, whose progress had been stopped by, what the others guessed -to be, the door. They had to work warily, to keep it from falling -inward. At last the movement continued and they entered the night-wrapt -corridor. - -Tristan had taken his station directly behind the Prefect of Rome. The -ecclesiastics, for their own protection, had been assigned the rear. - -By the sheen of lightnings a pile of brushwood was revealed to the -sight, which the Prefect, in a low tone, ordered to be cleared away, -whereupon a circular opening appeared, like the entrance of a well. - -The Prefect summoned the leaders around him. - -For a moment they stood in silence and listened. - -Between the peals of the thunder which rolled in terrifying echoes over -the Seven Hills, the trained ear could distinguish a strange, droning -sound that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth. - -"Even now the Black Mass is commencing," he turned to Tristan. "We are -but just in time." - -After a pause he continued: - -"We must proceed in darkness. The faintest glimmer might betray our -presence. I shall lead the way. Let each follow warily. Let each be in -touch with the other. Let all stop when I stop. We shall arrive in a -circular gallery, whence we may all witness the abomination below. From -this gallery several flights of winding stairs lead into the devil's -chapel. Let us descend in silence. When you hear the signal--down the -quick descent and--upon them!" - -One by one they disappeared in the dark aperture. Their feet touched -ground while they still supported themselves on their arms. They found -themselves in a subterranean chamber, in impenetrable darkness, whose -hot, damp murk almost suffocated the intruders. - -Slowly, with infinite caution, in infinite silence, they proceeded. -Every man stretched his hand before him to touch a companion. - -The passage began to slant, yet the incline was gradual. Their feet -touched soft earth which swallowed the sound of their steps. There was -neither echo nor vibration, only murky silence and the night of the -grave. - -A low, droning sound, infinitely remote, a sound not unlike that of -swarming bees heard at a great distance, was now wafted to their ears. - -A shudder ran through that long chain of living men, who were carrying -the Cross into the very abyss of Hell. - -For they knew they were listening to the infernal choir, they were -approaching the hidden chapel of Satan. The chant began to swell. Still -they continued upon their descent. - -The imprisoned air became hotter and murkier, almost suffocating in its -miasmatic waves that assailed the senses and seemed to weigh like lead -upon the brain. - -Now the tunnel turned sharply at right angles and after proceeding -some twenty or thirty paces in Stygian darkness, a faint crimson glow -began suddenly to drive the nocturnal gloom before it, and they emerged -in a gallery, terminating in a number of dark archways, from which -narrow winding stairs led into the hall below. Small round apertures, -resembling port-holes, permitted a glimpse into the chapel of Satan, -and a weird, droning chant was rising rhythmically from the night-wrapt -depths of the pavilion. - -Following the example of the leader, they stole on tiptoe to the -unglazed port-holes and gazed below, and eager, yet trembling, with the -anticipation of the dread mysteries they were about to witness. - -At first they could not see anything distinctly, owing to the crimson -mist that seemed to come rolling into the chapel as from some furnace -and their eyes, after having been long in the darkness, refused to -focus themselves. But, by degrees, the scene became more distinct. - -In the circular chapel below dim figures, robed in crimson, moved to -and fro, bearing aloft perfumed cressets on metal poles, and in its -flickering light an altar became visible, hung with crimson, the summit -of which was lost in the gloom overhead. Here and there indistinct -shapes were stretched in hideous contortions on the pavement, and as -others drew nigh, these rose and, throwing back their heads, made the -vault re-echo with deep-chested roaring. - -Suddenly the metal bound gates of a low arched doorway, faintly -discernible in the uncertain light, seemed to be unclosing with a slow -and majestic movement, letting loose a flood of light in which the -ghostly faces of the worshippers leapt into sudden clearness, men and -women, all seemingly belonging to the highest ranks of society. The -crimson garbs of the officiating priests showed like huge stains of -blood against the dark-veined marble. - -Tristan gazed with the rest, stark with terror. The blood seemed to -freeze in his veins as his eyes swept the circular vault and rested at -the shrine's farther end, where branching candlesticks flanked each the -foot of two short flights of stairs that led up to the summit of the -great altar, garnished at the corner with hideous masks, and sending up -from time to time eddies of smoke, through the reek of which some two -score of men watched the ceremony from above. - -Dim shapes passed to and fro. The droning chant continued. At length -a shapeless form evolved itself from the crimson mist, approached the -altar and cast something upon it. Instantly a blaze of light flooded -the shrine, and in its radiance a weazened, bat-like creature was -revealed, garbed in the fantastic imitation of a priest's robes. - -Approaching the infernal altar, upon which lay obscene symbols of -horror, he mounted the steps and his figure melted into the gloom. - -With the cold sweat streaming from his brow, with a shudder that almost -turned him dizzy, Tristan recognized Bessarion. The High Priest of -Satan sat upon the Devil's altar. There was stir and movement in the -chapel. Then a deep silence supervened. - -Petrifaction fell upon the assembly. All voices were hushed, all -movement arrested. From the black throne, surrounded by terror, where -sat the great Unknown, came a dull hoarse roar, like the roar of an -earthquake. - -The words were unintelligible to the champions of the Cross. They were -answered by the Sorcerer's Confession, the hideous, terrible contortion -of the Credo, and then Tristan's ears were assailed by the sounds he -had heard on that fatal night, ere he lost consciousness, and again in -the Catacombs of St. Calixtus, sounds meaningless in themselves, but -fraught with terrible import to him now! - -"Emen Hetan! Emen Hetan! Palu! Baalberi! Emen Hetan!"-- - -Pandemonium broke loose. - -"Agora! Agora! Patrisa! Agora!" - -There was screeching of pipes, made of dead men's bones. A drum -stretched with the skin of the hanged was beaten with the tail of a -wolf. Like leaves in a howling storm the fantastic red robed forms -whirled about, from left to right, from right to left. And in their -midst, immobile and terrible, sat the Hircus Nocturnus, enthroned upon -the shrine. - -When at last they stopped, panting, exhausted, the same voice, -deafening as an earthquake, roared: - -"Bring hither the bride--the stainless dove!" - -A chorus of hideous laughter, a swelling, bleating cacophony of -execration, so furious and real that it froze the listeners' blood, -answered the summons. - -Then, from an arch in the apse of the infernal chapel, came four -chanting figures, hideously masked and draped in crimson. - -With slow, measured steps they approached. The arch was black again. -Deep silence supervened. - -Now into the centre came two figures. - -One was that of a man robed in doublet and hose of flaming scarlet. The -figure he supported was that of a woman, though she seemed a corpse -returned to earth. - -A long white robe covered her from head to toe, like the winding sheet -of death. Her eyes were bound with a white cloth. She seemed unable to -walk, and was being urged forward, step by step, by the scarlet man at -her side. - -Again pandemonium reigned, heightened by the crashing peals of the -thunder that rolled in the heavens overhead. - -"Emen Hetan! Emen Hetan! Palu! Baalberi! Emen Hetan!" - -The bleating of goats, the shrieks of the tortured damned, the howling -of devils in the nethermost pit of Hell, delirious laughter, gibes and -execrations mingled in a deafening chorus, which was followed by a dead -silence, as anew the voice of the Unseen roared through the vault: - -"Bring hither the bride, the stainless dove!" - -There was a tramp of mailed feet. - -Like a human whirlwind it came roaring down the winding stairs, through -the vomitories into the vault. The rattling of weapons, shouts of rage, -horror and dismay mingled, resounding from the vaulted roof, beaten -back from the marble walls. - -With drawn sword Tristan, well in advance of his companions, leaped -into the chapel of Satan. When the identity of the staggering white -form beside the scarlet man had been revealed to him, no power in -heaven or earth could have restrained him. Without awaiting the signal -he bounded with a choking outcry down the shaft. - -But, when he reached the floor of the chapel, he recoiled as if the -Evil One had arisen from the floor before him, barring his advance. - -Before him stood Theodora. - -She wore a scarlet robe, fastened at the throat with a clasp of rubies, -representing the heads of serpents. Her wonderful white arms were bare, -her hands were clenched as if she were about to fly at the throat of a -hated rival and a preternatural lustre shone in her eyes. - -"You!" - -Tristan's words died in the utterance as he surveyed her for the space -of a moment with a glance so full of horror and disdain that she knew -she had lost. - -"Yes--it is I," she replied, hardly above a whisper, hot flush and -deadly pallor alternating in her beautiful face, terrible in its set -calm. "And--though I may not possess you--that other shall not! See!" - -Maddened beyond all human endurance at the sight that met his eyes -Tristan hurled Theodora aside as she attempted to bar his way, as if -she had been a toy. Rushing straight through the press towards the -spot, where the scarlet man, his arms still about the drooping form of -Hellayne, had stopped in dismay at the sudden inrush of the guards, -Tristan pierced the Grand Chamberlain through and through. Almost -dragging the woman with him he fell beside the devil's altar. His head -struck the flagstones and he lay still. - -The Prefect himself dashed up the steps of the ebony shrine and hurled -the High Priest of Satan on the flagstones below. Bessarion's neck was -broken and, with the squeak of a bat, his black soul went out. - -While the guards, giving no quarter, were mowing down all those of -the devil's congregation who did not seek salvation in flight or -concealment, Tristan caught the swooning form of Hellayne in his arms, -calling her name in despairing accents, as he stroked the silken hair -back from the white clammy brow. She was breathing, but her eyes were -closed. - -Then he summoned two men-at-arms to his side, and between them they -carried her to the world of light above. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -SUNRISE - - -The thunder clouds had rolled away to eastward. - -A rosy glow was creeping over the sky. The air was fresh with the -coming of dawn. Softly they laid Hellayne by the side of a marble -fountain and splashed the cooling drops upon her pale face. After a -time she opened her eyes. - -The first object they encountered was Tristan who was bending over her, -fear and anxiety in his face. - -Her colorless lips parted in a whisper, as her arms encircled his neck. - -"You are with me!" she said, and the transparent lids drooped again. - -Those who had not been slain of the congregation of Hell had been bound -in chains. Among the dead was Theodora. The contents of a phial she -carried on her person had done its work instantaneously. - -Suddenly alarums resounded from the region of Castel San Angelo. There -was a great stir and buzz, as of an awakened bee hive. There were -shouts at the Flaminian gate, the martial tread of mailed feet and, -as the sun's first ray kissed the golden Archangel on the summit of -the Flavian Emperor's mausoleum, a horseman, followed by a glittering -retinue, dashed up the path, dismounted and raised his visor. - -Before the astounded assembly stood Alberic, the Senator of Rome. - -Just then they brought the body of Theodora from the subterranean -chapel and laid it silently on the greensward, beside that of Basil, -the Grand Chamberlain. - -The Cardinal-Archbishop of Ravenna was the first to speak. - -"My lord, we hardly trust our eyes. All Rome is mourning you for dead." - -Alberic turned to the speaker. - -"With the aid of the saint I have prevailed against the foulest treason -ever committed by a subject against his trusting lord. The bribed hosts -of Hassan Abdullah, which were to sack Rome, are scattered in flight. -The attempt upon my own life has been prevented by a miracle from -Heaven. But--what of these dead?" - -Odo of Cluny approached the Senator of Rome. - -"The awful horror which has gripped the city is passed. Christ rules -once more and Satan is vanquished. This is a matter for your private -ear, my lord." - -Odo pointed to the kneeling form of Tristan, who was supporting -Hellayne in his arms, trying to soothe her troubled spirit, to dispel -the memory of the black horrors which held her trembling soul in thrall. - -Approaching Tristan, Alberic laid his hand upon his head. - -"We knew where to trust, and we shall know how to reward! My lords and -prelates of the Church! Matters of grave import await you. We meet -again in the Emperor's Tomb." - -Beckoning to his retinue, Alberic remounted his steed, as company upon -company of men-at-arms filed past--a host, such as the city of Rome had -not beheld in decades, with drums and trumpets, pennants and banderols, -long lines of glittering spears, gorgeous surcoats, and splendid suits -of mail. - -The forces of the Holy Roman Empire were passing into the Eternal City. - -At their head the Senator of Rome was returning into his own. - -At last they were alone, Tristan and Hellayne. - -His companions had departed. With them they had taken their dead. - -Hellayne opened her eyes. They were sombre, yet at peace. - -"Tristan!" - -He bent over her. - -"My own Hellayne!" - -"It is beautiful to be loved," she whispered. "I have never been loved -before." - -"You shall be," he replied, "now and forever, before God and the world!" - -The old shadow came again into her eyes. - -"What of the Lord Roger?" - -She read the answer in his silence. - -A tear trickled from the violet pools of her eyes. - -Then she raised herself in his arms. - -"I thought I should go mad," she crooned. "But I knew you would come. -And you are here--here--with me,--Tristan." - -He took her hands in his, his soul in his eyes. - -The sun had risen higher through the gold bars of the east, dispelling -the grey chill of dawn. - -She nestled closer to him. - -"Take me back to Avalon, to my rose garden," she crooned. "Life is -before us--yonder--where first we loved." - -He took her in his arms and kissed her eyes and the small sweet mouth. - -A lark began to sing in the silence. - - THE END - - - - - WHAT ALLAH WILLS - - _By Irwin L. Gordon_ - - _Author of "The Log of The Ark"_ - - _Illustrated, net, $1.35; carriage paid, $1.50_ - -Take Morocco for a background--that quaint and mysterious land of -mosques and minarets, where the _muezzin_ still calls to prayer at -sundown the faithful. - -Imagine a story written with power and intensity and the thrill of -adventure in the midst of fanatical Moslems. Add to this a wealthy -young medical student, a red-blooded American, who gives up his life to -helping the lepers of Arzilla, and the presence of a beautiful American -girl who, despite her love for the hero, is induced to take up the -Mohammedan faith, and you have some idea of what this remarkable story -presents. - -WHAT ALLAH WILLS is a big story of love and adventure. Mr. Gordon is -the author of two notable non-fiction successes, but he scores heavily -in this, his first work of fiction. - - - - - UNDER THE WITCHES' MOON - - _By Nathan Gallizier_ - - _Author of "The Sorceress of Rome," "The Court of - Lucifer," "The Hill of Venus," etc._ - - _Illustrated by The Kinneys, cloth 12mo, net, $1.50; - carriage paid, $1.65_ - -This romantic tale of tenth-century Rome concerns itself with the -fortunes and adventures of Tristan of Avalon while in the Eternal City -on a pilgrimage to do penance for his love of Hellayne, the wife of his -liege lord, Count Roger de Laval. - -Tristan's meeting with the Queen Courtesan of the Aventine; her -infatuation for the pilgrim; Tristan's rounds of obediences, cut short -by his appointment as Captain of Sant' Angelo by Alberic, Senator -of Rome; the intrigues of Basil, the Grand Chamberlain, who aspires -to the dominion of Rome and the love of Theodora; the trials of -Hellayne, who alternately falls into the power of Basil and Theodora; -the scene between the Grand Chamberlain and Bessarion in the ruins -of the Coliseum; the great feud between Roxana and Theodora and the -final overthrow of the latter's regime constitute some of the dramatic -episodes of the romance. - -"This new book adds greater weight to the claim that Mr. -Gallizier is the greatest writer of historical novels in America -today."--_Cincinnati Times-Star._ - -"In many respects we consider Mr. Gallizier the most versatile and -interesting writer of the day."--_Saxby's Magazine._ - - - - - _A third CHEERFUL BOOK_ - Trade--------Mark - - SYLVIA ARDEN DECIDES - - By Margaret R. Piper - - _A Sequel to "Sylvia's Experiment: The Cheerful Book"_ - Trade--------Mark - _and "Sylvia of the Hill Top"_ - - _Illustrated, decorative jacket, net, $1.35; carriage paid, - $1.50_ - -In the original CHEERFUL BOOK, with its rippling play of incident, -Sylvia proved herself a bringer of tidings of great joy to many people. -In the second book devoted to her adventures, she was a charming -heroine--urbane, resourceful and vivacious--with an added shade of -picturesqueness due to her environment. In this third story Sylvia -is a little older grown, deep in the problem of just-out-of-college -adjustment to the conditions of the "wide, wide world," and in the -process of learning, as she puts it, "to live as deep and quick as -I can." The scene of the new story is laid partly at Arden Hall and -partly in New York and, in her sincere effort to find herself, Sylvia -finds love in real fairy tale fashion. - -"There is a world of human nature, and neighborhood contentment and -quaint, quiet humor in Margaret R. Piper's books of good cheer. Her -tales are well proportioned and subtly strong in their literary aspects -and quality."--_North American, Philadelphia._ - - - - - A PLACE IN THE SUN - - _By Mrs. Henry Backus_ - - _Author of "The Career of Dr. Weaver," "The Rose - of Roses," etc._ - - _12mo, cloth, illustrated by Wm. Van Dresser, net, $1.35; - carriage paid, $1.50_ - -Gunda Karoli is a very much alive young person with a zest for life and -looking-forward philosophy which helps her through every trial. She is -sustained in her struggles against the disadvantage of her birth by -a burning faith in the great American ideal--that here in the United -States every one has a chance to win for himself a place in the sun. - -Gunda takes for her gospel the Declaration of Independence, only -to find that, although this democratic doctrine is embodied in the -constitution of the country, it does not manifest itself outwardly in -its social life. Nevertheless, she succeeds in mounting step by step -in the social scale, from the time she first appears at Skyland on the -Knobs as a near-governess, to her brief season in the metropolis as a -danseuse. - -How she wins the interest of Justin Arnold, the fastidious descendant -of a fine old family, and brings into his self-centered existence a new -life and fresh charm, provides a double interest to the plot. - - - - - VIRGINIA OF ELK CREEK - VALLEY - - _By Mary Ellen Chase_ - - _12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by R. Farrington - Elwell, net, $1.35; carriage paid, $1.50_ - -A sequel to last year's success, THE GIRL FROM THE BIG HORN COUNTRY -(sixth printing). This new story is more western in flavor than the -first book--since practically all of the action occurs back in the Big -Horn country, at Virginia's home, to which she invites her eastern -friends for a summer vacation. The vacation in the West proves "the -best ever" for the Easterners, and in recounting their pleasures they -tell of the hundreds of miles of horseback riding, how they climbed -mountains, trapped a bear, shot gophers, fished, camped, homesteaded, -and of the delightful hospitality of Virginia and her friends. - - -"The story is full of life and movement and presents a variety of -interesting characters."--_St. Paul Despatch._ - - -"This is most gladsome reading to all who love healthfulness of mind, -heart and body."--_Boston Ideas._ - - - - - Selections from - The Page Company's - List of Fiction - - WORKS OF - ELEANOR H. PORTER - - POLLYANNA: The GLAD Book (360,000) - Trade Mark Trade----Mark - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by Stockton Mulford. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -Mr. Leigh Mitchell Hodges, The Optimist, in an editorial for the -_Philadelphia North American_, says: "And when, after Pollyanna has -gone away, you get her letter saying she is going to take 'eight steps' -to-morrow--well, I don't know just what you may do, but I know of one -person who buried his face in his hands and shook with the gladdest -sort of sadness and got down on his knees and thanked the Giver of all -gladness for Pollyanna." - - - POLLYANNA GROWS UP: The Second GLAD Book - Trade Mark (180,000) Trade----Mark - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by H. Weston Taylor. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -When the story of POLLYANNA told in The _Glad_ Book was ended a great -cry of regret for the vanishing "Glad Girl" went up all over the -country--and other countries, too. Now POLLYANNA appears again, just as -sweet and joyous-hearted, more grown up and more lovable. - -"Take away frowns! Put down the worries! Stop fidgeting and -disagreeing and grumbling! Cheer up, everybody! POLLYANNA has come -back!"--_Christian Herald._ - - - _The GLAD Book Calendar_ - Trade----Mark - - THE POLLYANNA CALENDAR - Trade Mark - -(_This calendar is issued annually; the calendar for the new year being -ready about Sept. 1st of the preceding year. Note: in ordering please -specify what year you desire._) - -Decorated and printed in colors. _Net_, $1.50; _carriage paid_, $1.65 - - -"There is a message of cheer on every page, and the calendar is -beautifully illustrated."--_Kansas City Star._ - - -MISS BILLY (18th printing) - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by - G. Tyng . . _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"There is something altogether fascinating about 'Miss Billy,' -some inexplicable feminine characteristic that seems to demand the -individual attention of the reader from the moment we open the book -until we reluctantly turn the last page."--_Boston Transcript._ - - -MISS BILLY'S DECISION (11th printing) - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by - Henry W. Moore. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"The story is written in bright, clever style and has plenty of action -and humor. Miss Billy is nice to know and so are her friends."--_New -Haven Times Leader._ - - -MISS BILLY--MARRIED (8th printing) - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by - W. Haskell Coffin. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"Although Pollyanna is the only copyrighted glad girl, Miss Billy is -just as glad as the younger figure and radiates just as much gladness. -She disseminates joy so naturally that we wonder why all girls are not -like her."--_Boston Transcript._ - - -SIX STAR RANCH (19th Printing) - - Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated by R. Farrington Elwell. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"'Six Star Ranch' bears all the charm of the author's genius and -is about a little girl down in Texas who practices the 'Pollyanna -Philosophy' with irresistible success. The book is one of the kindliest -things, if not the best, that the author of the Pollyanna books has -done. It is a welcome addition to the fast-growing family of _Glad_ -Books."--_Howard Russell Bangs in the Boston Post._ - - -CROSS CURRENTS - - Cloth decorative, illustrated. _Net_, $1.00; _carriage paid_, $1.15 - -"To one who enjoys a story of life as it is to-day, with its sorrows -as well as its triumphs, this volume is sure to appeal."--_Book News -Monthly._ - - -THE TURN OF THE TIDE - - Cloth decorative, illustrated. _Net_, $1.25; _carriage paid_, $1.40 - -"A very beautiful book showing the influence that went to the -developing of the life of a dear little girl into a true and good -woman."--_Herald and Presbyter, Cincinnati, Ohio._ - - - - - WORKS OF - L. M. MONTGOMERY - THE FOUR ANNE BOOKS - - -ANNE OF GREEN GABLES (40th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by M. A. and W. A. J. Claus. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"In 'Anne of Green Gables' you will find the dearest and most moving -and delightful child since the immortal Alice."--_Mark Twain in a -letter to Francis Wilson._ - - -ANNE OF AVONLEA (24th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by George Gibbs. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"A book to lift the spirit and send the pessimist into -bankruptcy!"--_Meredith Nicholson._ - - -CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA (6th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by George Gibbs. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"A story of decidedly unusual conception and interest."--_Baltimore -Sun._ - - -ANNE OF THE ISLAND (10th printing) - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by - H. Weston Taylor. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"It has been well worth while to watch the growing up of Anne, and the -privilege of being on intimate terms with her throughout the process -has been properly valued."--_New York Herald._ - - -THE STORY GIRL (9th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by George Gibbs. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"A book that holds one's interest and keeps a kindly smile upon one's -lips and in one's heart."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ - - -KILMENY OF THE ORCHARD (10th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by George Gibbs. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"A story born in the heart of Arcadia and brimful of the sweet life of -the primitive environment."--_Boston Herald._ - - -THE GOLDEN ROAD (5th printing) - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by George Gibbs. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"It is a simple, tender tale, touched to higher notes, now and then, -by delicate hints of romance, tragedy and pathos."--_Chicago Record -Herald._ - - - - - NOVELS BY - MRS. HENRY BACKUS - -THE CAREER OF DOCTOR WEAVER - - Cloth decorative, illustrated by William Van Dresser. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"High craftsmanship is the leading characteristic of this novel, which, -like all good novels, is a love story abounding in real palpitant human -interest. The most startling feature of the story is the way its author -has torn aside the curtain and revealed certain phases of the relation -between the medical profession and society."--_Dr. Charles Reed in the -Lancet Clinic._ - - -THE ROSE OF ROSES - -Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color. - - _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -The author has achieved a thing unusual in developing a love story -which adheres to conventions under unconventional circumstances. - -"Mrs. Backus' novel is distinguished in the first place for its -workmanship."--_Buffalo Evening News._ - - - NOVELS BY - MARGARET R. PIPER - - - SYLVIA'S EXPERIMENT: The Cheerful Book - Trade------Mark - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color from a painting by - Z. P. Nikolaki. _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"An atmosphere of good spirits pervades the book; the humor that -now and then flashes across the page is entirely natural, and the -characters are well individualized."--_Boston Post._ - - - SYLVIA OF THE HILL TOP: The Second Cheerful - Book Trade----Mark - - Cloth decorative, with a frontispiece in full color, from a painting - by Gene Pressler. _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"There is a world of human nature and neighborhood contentment -and quaint quiet humor in Margaret R. Piper's second book of good -cheer."--_Philadelphia North American._ - - -MISS MADELYN MACK, DETECTIVE By HUGH C. WEIR. - - Cloth decorative, illustrated. _Net_, $1.35; _carriage paid_, $1.50 - -"Clever in plot and effective in style, the author has seized on some -of the most sensational features of modern life, and the result is -a detective novel that gets away from the beaten track of mystery -stories."--_New York Sun._ - - - - - WORKS OF - CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS - - -HAUNTERS OF THE SILENCES - - Cloth decorative, with many drawings by Charles Livingston Bull, four - of which are in full color . . . . $2.00 - -The stories in Mr. Roberts's new collection are the strongest and best -he has ever written. - -He has largely taken for his subjects those animals rarely met with -in books, whose lives are spent "In the Silences," where they are the -supreme rulers. - -"As a writer about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable place. He -is the most literary, as well as the most imaginative and vivid of all -the nature writers."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ - - -RED FOX - - THE STORY OF HIS ADVENTUROUS CAREER IN THE RINGWAAK WILDS, AND OF HIS - FINAL TRIUMPH OVER THE ENEMIES OF HIS KIND. With fifty illustrations, - including frontispiece in color and cover design by Charles Livingston - Bull. - -Square quarto, cloth decorative . . . . . $2.00 - -"True in substance but fascinating as fiction. It will interest old and -young, city-bound and free-footed, those who know animals and those who -do not."--_Chicago Record Herald._ - - -THE KINDRED OF THE WILD - - A BOOK OF ANIMAL LIFE. With fifty-one full-page plates and many - decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull. - -Square quarto, cloth decorative . . . . . $2.00 - -"Is in many ways the most brilliant collection of animal stories that -has appeared; well named and well done."--_John Burroughs._ - - -THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAILS - - A companion volume to "The Kindred of the Wild." With forty-eight - full-page plates and many decorations from drawings by Charles - Livingston Bull. - -Square quarto, cloth decorative $2.00 - -"These stories are exquisite in their refinement, and yet robust in -their appreciation of some of the rougher phases of woodcraft. Among -the many writers about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable -place."--_The Outlook._ - - - - - WORKS OF - GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO - -Signor d'Annunzio is known throughout the world as a poet and a -dramatist, but above all as a novelist, for it is in his novels that he -is at his best. In poetic thought and graceful expression he has few -equals among the writers of the day. - -He is engaged on a most ambitious work--nothing less than the writing -of nine novels which cover the whole field of human sentiment. This -work he has divided into three trilogies, and five of the nine books -have been published. It is to be regretted that other labors have -interrupted the completion of the series. - -"This book is realistic. Some say that it is brutally so. But the -realism is that of Flaubert, and not of Zola. There is no plain -speaking for the sake of plain speaking. Every detail is justified -in the fact that it illuminates either the motives or the actions of -the man and woman who here stand revealed. It is deadly true. The -author holds the mirror up to nature, and the reader, as he sees his -own experiences duplicated in passage after passage, has something of -the same sensation as all of us know on the first reading of George -Meredith's 'Egoist.' Reading these pages is like being out in the -country on a dark night in a storm. Suddenly a flash of lightning comes -and every detail of your surroundings is revealed."--_Review of "The -Triumph of Death" in the New York Evening Sun._ - -The volumes published are as follows. Each 1 vol., library 12mo, cloth -. . . . . . . . $1.50 - - - _THE ROMANCES OF THE ROSE_ - - =THE CHILD OF PLEASURE= (IL PIACERE). - =THE INTRUDER= (L'INNOCENTE). - =THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH= (IL TRIONFO DELLA - MORTE). - - _THE ROMANCES OF THE LILY_ - - =THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS= (LE VERGINI - DELLE ROCCE). - - _THE ROMANCES OF THE POMEGRANATE_ - - =THE FLAME OF LIFE= (IL FUOCO). - - - * * * * * - - - -Transcriber's Note: - -Some words appear in both hyphenated and non-hyphenated forms in -the original; these variations have been edited for the sake of -consistency. - -Minor punctuation errors have been corrected. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Under the Witches' Moon, by Nathan Gallizier - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER THE WITCHES' MOON *** - -***** This file should be named 44827-8.txt or 44827-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/8/2/44827/ - -Produced by anhhuyalex, Suzanne Shell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -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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