"but
comprehension. Canst thou not see! Have I not said that Cyprus hath need
of a man to rule? _Who_ led the people to storm the Fortress of
Famagosta? _Who_ ruled the city in quiet through those days of
stress?--_Thou_ art the man! _Through me, who hold the key, thou shalt
rule them well._"

"I am a Venetian," he answered coldly; and no longer hesitating to use
the needful force to unclasp the clinging, importunate hands. "From
compassion have I shown too great patience with thy mad dreaming. I will
direct that the Countess of Montferrat be permitted to come to thee now:
for the galley must soon sail for Venice.--May the Madonna help thee!"

But as he reached the door a mocking laugh rang out and made him turn in
surprise, for it was but a moment since he had instinctively averted his
gaze, lest he should read too easily in her mobile face the emotion
which she made no effort to conceal.

"Let us at least part with due ceremony, your Excellency," she said,
"since we shall both have travelled to other worlds before we meet
again: I--who might have been a Queen, hadst thou but believed my 'mad
dreaming' and accepted my aid to make thee--that which should have made
me thy Queen indeed, and thee a Sovereign of Cyprus!--had I but
condescended so far!"

She swept him her most courtly reverence. "Adieu! Thou art a man
indeed--like many another--to let a woman outwit thee and befool
thee--so that even now thou knowest not within thy soul if she hath
spoken truth,--or flattery to beguile thee; or 'mad dreaming'--for
which, perforce, she 'may be forgiven,' and render thanks! Thou knowest
not whether she hath, in truth, spoken _to mislead thee_ that which
should have brought the pride of thy superb Venice low--hadst thou but
listened!--So much hath my 'confession' availed thee. O, most astute
Venetian!"

She flung the words at him in triumphant tones, while he, in noble pity,
stood speechless--having seen her face when she thought he had not seen;
and she stood thus--radiant--defiant--until there was no longer an echo
of footsteps back through the long vaulted corridor of the castle. Then
the mocking smile died on her lips and eyes and she threw herself on her
couch in a bitter paroxysm of passion.

"One may dare all, for a man of stone," she cried, "and yet not win! And
I would have made him great--_great_ beyond his dreams! O
fool!--FOOL!"

XXXV

With the removal of the Court to Nikosia days of peace and su