his
palm. The valiant guard received the gift and refused the message.

"No man shall enter, nor leave this palace to-night: by order of the
Council of the Realm."

"I bring an order from His Excellency, Andrea Cornaro, Auditor of Her
Majesty, and member of the Council of the Realm," Marco pleaded
desperately.

"_Our_ orders are of the _Chief of Council_, the Signor Marin
Rizzo--whom to disobey this night _is death_."

The foremost guard of the line had led the defense: and among them all
there was no motion to favor this young cousin of their Queen. He was a
knight, and brave at arms--but to have fought that band meant certain
death; and at the castle, one might, perchance, help the Queen!

"There are some with Caterina to help her," he thought in his loyal
heart, as baffled at the palace, he pushed his way across the Piazza and
reached the entrance to the castle, "and here she is surely safe."

The Count of Zaffo, her aged Councillor and friend, had risen from a
sick-bed to go to her; he had been first to enter the castle-court. "So
ill, that he scarce could hold himself upon his palfrey," some one told
the young knight in the crowd, in answer to his question.

"The old Councillor scarce could strike a blow for her," thought Marco;
"but it is good that he should be within: for his devotion to Caterina
is known. And Messer Andrea is there!"

He drew breath more freely for this gleam of comfort, as he gave the
usual password.

But the guard was obdurate.

"It is not the password for this night, my Lord."

"I pray thee--I am cousin to Her Majesty, and _must_ have speech with
her."

"Eccellenza; by order of the castellan, none may pass, save those who
give the word."

"Then call me hither the castellan."

"The password hath been given by the Chief of the Council of the Realm;
and without it, the gates may not be opened," the castellan answered
without preamble, when he appeared for an instant before the slide in
the great gate--as quickly closed, though he had recognized a member of
the Queen's family.

"Had his uncle known the password and forgotten to give it to him?"
Marco questioned in some anxiety, as he made his way, baffled again,
through the crowd in the Piazza, which was growing denser and more
excited. "And if he had not known it----?"

He quickened his pace--his horse alert to obey his will, fretting with
dilated nostril and pawing hoof at their frequent interruptions.

The citizens had