at the
time of the disappearance.

Bertrand of Artois drew the queen apart, telling her his suspicions,
which fell directly upon Charles of Durazzo; but Joan lost no time in
persuading him of the improbability of his hypothesis: first of all,
Charles had never once set his foot in Castel Nuovo since the day of his
stormy interview with the queen, but had made a point of always leaving
Andre by the bridge when he came to the town with him; besides, it had
never been noticed, even in the past, that the young duke had spoken to
Marie or exchanged looks with her: the result of all attainable evidence
was that no stranger had entered the castle the evening before except a
notary named Master Nicholas of Melazzo, an old person, half silly, half
fanatical, for whom Tommaso Pace, valet de chambre to the Duke of
Calabria, was ready to answer with his life. Bertrand yielded to the
queen's reasoning, and day by day advanced new suggestions, each less
probable than the last, to draw his mistress on to feel a hope that he
was far from feeling himself.

But a month later, and precisely on the morning of Monday the 30th of
April, a strange and unexpected scene took place, an exhibition of
boldness transcending all calculations. The Neapolitan people were
stupefied in astonishment, and the grief of Joan and her friends was
changed to indignation. Just as the clock of San Giovanni struck twelve,
the gate of the magnificent palace of the Durazzo flung open its folding
doors, and there came forth to the sound of trumpets a double file of
cavaliers on richly caparisoned horses, with the duke's arms on their
shields. They took up their station round the house to prevent the
people outside from disturbing a ceremony which was to take place before
the eyes of an immense crowd, assembled suddenly, as by a miracle, upon
the square. At the back of the court stood an altar, and upon the steps
lay two crimson velvet cushions embroidered with the fleur-de-lys of
France and the ducal crown. Charles came forward, clad in a dazzling
dress, and holding by the hand the queen's sister, the Princess Marie, at
that time almost thirteen years of age. She knelt down timidly on one of
the cushions, and when Charles had done the same, the grand almoner of
the Duras house asked the young duke solemnly what was his intention in
appearing thus humbly before a minister of the Church. At these words
Master Nicholas of Melazzo took his place on the left of th