p to the bridge to
give a last signal of farewell: the unhappy lady knew too well that she
would never see her son again.

At almost the same moment that Andre's mother left the kingdom, the
former queen of Naples, Robert's widow, Dona Sancha, breathed her last
sigh. She was buried in the convent of Santa Maria delta Croce, under
the name of Clara, which she had assumed on taking her vows as a nun, as
her epitaph tells us, as follows:

"Here lies, an example of great humility, the body of the sainted sister
Clara, of illustrious memory, otherwise Sancha, Queen of Sicily and
Jerusalem, widow of the most serene Robert, King of Jerusalem and
Sicily, who, after the death of the king her husband, when she had
completed a year of widowhood, exchanged goods temporary for goods
eternal. Adopting for the love of God a voluntary poverty, and
distributing her goods to the poor, she took upon her the rule of
obedience in this celebrated convent of Santa Croce, the work of her
own hands, in the year 1344, on the gist of January of the twelfth
indiction, where, living a life of holiness under the rule of the
blessed Francis, father of the poor, she ended her days religiously
in the year of our Lord 1345, on the 28th of July of the thirteenth
indiction. On the day following she was buried in this tomb."

The death of Dona Sancha served to hasten on the catastrophe which was
to stain the throne of Naples with blood: one might almost fancy that
God wished to spare this angel of love and resignation the sight of
so terrible a spectacle, that she offered herself as a propitiatory
sacrifice to redeem the crimes of her family.

CHAPTER IV

Eight days after the funeral of the old queen, Bertrand of Artois came
to Joan, distraught, dishevelled, in a state of agitation and confusion
impossible to describe.

Joan went quickly up to her lover, asking him with a look of fear to
explain the cause of his distress.

"I told you, madam," cried the young baron excitedly, "you will end by
ruining us all, as you will never take any advice from me."

"For God's sake, Bertrand, speak plainly: what has happened? What advice
have I neglected?"

"Madam, your noble husband, Andre of Hungary, has just been made King
of Jerusalem and Sicily, and acknowledged by the court of Avignon, so
henceforth you will be no better than his slave."

"Count of Artois, you are dreaming."

"No, madam, I am not dreaming: I have this fact to prove the truth of