Justin H. McCarthy

“ But he seemed, indeed, insane as he raged up and down the room.
“Give me a sword!” he shouted. “Syracuse will stand by me. We will crush this treason bloodily. Give me a sword! give me a sword!”
In that palace of pleasure there were no weapons of death, yet Robert ranged the room wildly as if dreaming that some soldier’s friend might lurk behind silken curtains. Lycabetta turned to her comrade and whispered to her behind her hand:
“The poor ape is moon-crazed—clean out of his wits. He mimicked the King yesterday, and now the trick grows on him.” ”

“ Lycabetta nodded her head.
“He is the all-conquering lover, for he never yields an inch of his heart. If a goddess condescended from Olympus, he would woo her with hot blood and cold brain. His eyes are torches of desire, but there never is a tender light in them. If a woman died in his arms, he would leave her without a sigh. And yet he can speak the speech of love more eloquently than an angel. You will laugh when I tell you that I would give much to believe that he loved me.”
“He is the King,” Glycerium said, simply. ”

“ A little secret, indeed, a laughable secret, for those down there in Syracuse, at the foot of the mountain, who took the world for what it was, but a great one to the soul of a girl who had lived all her life on the top of a mountain in a dwelling whose roof was the crest of a Moslem mosque, and whose garden palings were the pillars of a temple of Aphrodite; a girl who took the world for what it was not and for what it could never be. ”

“ Hildebrand went slowly over to where Robert lay and talked mockingly to him.
“How mulish a woman may be! Here is a great country girl, who has never lain soft nor known cheer, never worn silk and never sported a jewel, and yet when great men scuffle for her, she will rather die than serve them and herself. Yes, friend Diogenes, your sweetheart will be burned as a witch.”
Robert lifted his head. “Pray Heaven you lie!” he moaned.
“I am more truthful than an oracle,” Hildebrand retorted. “When the wood-wench flouted him, our good King vowed that she should burn for her virtue.” ”

“ Robert shook his head.
“He is still kept close in the palace; his sword is still idle. The King has doomed many to death, but it seems that none shall die until the fool dies—and they cannot find the fool,” he added, with a grim laugh.
Perpetua looked at him with sad affection and said, earnestly, “I wish you would fly from Sicily.”
Robert answered her as earnestly, “I wish you would fly from Sicily.”
“I will not leave my father.”
“I will not leave you in danger.”
Perpetua, smiling, gently chided. “All men live in danger through each second of each minute. I do not know the color of fear.” ”

“ Perpetua was as fleet as a deer, but the degraded King limped like the fool whose likeness had been flung upon him, and Perpetua had to slacken her speed in order that he might keep pace with her. But there were no signs of pursuit from the house of Lycabetta. The terror of the plague was so great that Robert’s mantle was an unquestionable defence. The most licentious youth in Syracuse would not go near the loveliest woman if he had the least reason to believe that she had been but lightly touched by a plague-spotted garment. ”

“ Lycabetta nodded, tacitly agreeing. If the fool were mad, as in very deed he seemed to be, she wished him well out of her borders. Madness was one of the ugly things of life for which she had no pity; madness was one of the dangerous things of life, and of all dangers she was greatly afraid. The fool carried a dagger at his girdle, and it were well to pacify him. She could send for the Moorish slaves to cast him forth, but if he were indeed sent by the King, any ill-treatment of his messenger might offend Robert, and the anger of offended Robert might take uglier shapes than the fool’s dagger. ”

“ For the honor of no woman is safe in the reign of Robert the Bad, and the feet of good women go not in his halls. Woe to the wicked King!”
She knelt again.
Robert, where he crouched, muttered to himself, “I have sinned, I have sinned, I have grievously sinned.”
A young man rose and spoke.
“No youth with a clean spirit can live in peace in Sicily. Only the man who will sell his wife, the brother who will betray his sister, the lover who will surrender his sweetheart, may find favor with the tyrant. Woe to the wicked King!” ”

“ My son, my son, when your child’s voice cries for a champion to-day, I fear yours will be the only hand raised to defend her.”
“They fear her for a witch,” Theron answered, bitterly; “as if such golden goodness could go to the making of witch-flesh. Men are fools—men are devils.”
“Be brave, be patient,” Hieronymus exhorted. “Courage and patience are the harness of a soldier of God.”
Theron made a gesture of impatience. “You have every man and woman in Syracuse for son and daughter. She is my only child. How is she?” ”

“ There was even no desire in Lycabetta’s mind to witness unseen through silken curtains the wooing of fool and maid. If Perpetua was passable for a nymph, Diogenes was too ugly for a satyr, and the sight of anything ugly was physically repulsive to Lycabetta. She would have beheld with composure any shame or suffering that could be inflicted upon Perpetua so long as those who inflicted shame and suffering were themselves fair to see, comely women or comely men. ”

“ Lycabetta had dropped on her knees at his feet in Oriental abasement, but her face was raised to his and her eyes were lamps of passion.
“Sire,” she sighed. “If I disturb your Majesty’s quiet, sign and I will retire.”
Robert, bending to her, caught her by the shoulders, and, lifting her to her feet, kissed her mouth.
“No, no!” he cried. “Stay, fair priestess of the ungovernable flesh. What brought you here?”
Lycabetta knitted her white fingers together beseechingly.
“Your Majesty is a most Christian king. Will you promise me your pardon if I confess to a pagan superstition?” ”

“ Lycabetta sneered, “Our king-hawk will not be scared by a sacred name.”
“Sicily still stands in Christendom,” Perpetua [Pg 233] answered; “and this ground is as holy as the old Jerusalem or the new.”
Lycabetta looked at her with languid wonder.
“Why are you so perverse? It is a smiling fortune to be the darling of a king.”
“It is a fairer fortune to be the darling of the Lord,” Perpetua answered, proudly. “Why do you plague me so vainly? There is no fear nor favor in the world that can move me.” ”

“ To her surprise the thing she took to be the fool Diogenes advanced as eagerly to her.
“You are free, Perpetua,” he cried. “Free, if you will be my queen.”
Perpetua recoiled. “Your queen?” she gasped, but Robert gave her no chance of further speech, for he went on hotly, whipping his blood with the recital of his wrongs.
“Traitors have taken my throne, traitors have stolen my crown; traitors bar the gates of my palace in my face and laugh at me through the bars; there is a false king in Syracuse, but he shall not usurp unchallenged.” ”

“ All around the orchards and gardens, that the good King had planted, showed cool and green; the subtle odors of many [Pg 250] flowers charged the air with sweetness, and the ceaseless lapse of fountains lulled the ear with distant whispers of delight. It were hard to believe that so fair a place, upon so fair a day, could be destined for a scene of trial by bloodshed and punishment by fire. But in the great space of the arena one object stood ominous, to remind the spectator that the reign of Robert the Good was ended. ”

“ Perpetua slowly drew back from him, and there was that in her steady gaze which, in spite of himself, restrained him.
“God, grant me the key to a madman’s pity,” she prayed; then to the fool she pleaded: “Sir, in all hearts Heaven has set some spot of gentleness. I am a woman set about by enemies, helpless but not hopeless. If ever any woman’s face was sacred in your eyes, if ever any woman’s speech was music to your ears, be gentle and befriend me.”
Robert laughed a malign laugh. ”

“ Chilling kisses, the death of desire, the sands that overwhelm the altar of youth, the dying lights and fading garlands of life’s waning feast—these things I fear, but these things are not yet for you or for me, and when they come there is always the hemlock.”
“You speak despair,” Perpetua insisted, eager [Pg 146] with the eagerness of untainted youth. “I answer with God’s mercy that can cleanse and save you. You are the Strange Woman—but you are a woman, born of a woman, made to bear the burden of women. Woman to woman, let me go.”
“I love you too well to lose you,” Lycabetta retorted. ”

“ If the jewelled hand had struck Robert brutally in the face it could not more have staggered him. All the air seemed to glow red around him; his reason surrendered itself to fury at this unmeaning, indecent affront.
“Are you mad, priest?” he gasped, pointing a hand that trembled with passion at the prelate, who had turned away from him and was again gazing reverentially into the church. The women now were laughing outright, but most of the men had only frowns for the unseemly license of a court buffoon. Sigurd Blue Wolf, the captain of the Varangians, moved leisurely down a step. ”

“ Fighting emotions swayed Perpetua’s soul. Hardly knowing what she said, she spoke quickly:
“You must not die. Your life is very dear to me. I love you.” Her cheeks flamed crimson as she spoke, but her lips and her eyes were steadfast.
Robert shook his head.
“You could not love this monster. You pity me and you call your pity love.”
All Syracuse watched and wondered at the colloquy between the redeemed maid and the mysterious fool who had taken the place of the Lord Hildebrand. Now they saw Perpetua spring to her feet. ”

“ Robert asked, angrily, fretted by the girl’s resistance. “Am I young, smooth, strong, comely to so little purpose? Is it a light thing to be a king like me?”
Perpetua listened to his ravings in despair. It seemed so horrible to see the ugly fool stand there mouthing his own praises, his kingship. As she shrank from him, her averted eyes fell on the silver mirror which Lycabetta had left lying upon her couch. A sudden wild hope came into Perpetua’s mind. Though the man’s brain might be moonstruck, his eyes might still be honest, and a glance might bring him back to sanity. ”

“ Lycabetta struck herself upon the forehead with her open palm.
“A woman!” she cried, joyously. “Why, I had forgotten. Now I shall have sport in my loneliness. This is the girl who is to be my plaything. Admit them and tell them to leave the girl here alone. But bid them wait within call. I may have need of them. Fly away, love-birds.”
Lysidice went out as she had come, to bear Lycabetta’s bidding to the Moorish slaves. The others, fluttering like frightened doves before Lycabetta’s dismissal, disappeared into the farther apartments of the palace. ”

“ Such women as Lycabetta, such men as Hildebrand, are ever to be feared; we have fooled them for the hour, but they may learn that they have been befooled, and the knowledge will make them revengeful. There is an ancient church in Syracuse, by the sea, whose crypt communicates with the catacombs that burrow into the rock. Hieronymus is its priest, famous as a good and holy man. He will shelter you, protect you; if there be danger you can hide in the catacombs, where our enemies might seek in vain for a century. ”

“ Robert turned to him again.
“If your heart holds any pity, speak,” he entreated, hoping against hope for some leaven of charity in the heart of Hildebrand.
“She can appeal to the ordeal of battle,” Hildebrand said, calmly. “And if she finds a champion valiant enough to overthrow the King’s man, who shall accuse her, then she is free.”
Robert hid his face. “Heaven have pity!” he murmured.
Hildebrand went on unmoved.
“The King has picked me for his champion, and, as you know, I am skilled in arms. But you are a stalwart fellow. Prove yourself the better man and save your paramour.” ”

“ Behind her on the fringe of the thick mountain pine-wood the blue tiled dome of a Saracenic mosque glowed like a great turquoise in the midst of the amber-tinted pillars of a ruined Grecian temple. In front of her, on a little hill, stood the beautiful Norman church that Robert the King had erected there on the highest point of his kingdom in gratitude for his son’s recovery from sickness, a miracle of austere strength and comeliness, with its great bronze image in a niche by the door of the [Pg 3] Archangel Michael, all armored, with his hands resting on the hilt of his drawn sword. ”

“ The grave face of Hieronymus looked kindly pity upon the fool in the friar’s gown.
“God chooses the time and the way. An earthly love may win the grace of Heaven.”
Robert sighed. “My hopeless love is happy service. Daily my spirit creeps a little nearer to the light.”
Hieronymus beat his breast.
“Daily the tyrant of Sicily grows more wicked, reeling like a madman from crime to crime. ”

“ She knew that the girl was at her mercy and began to find stealthy delight in the thought. Perpetua faced her boldly, holding her head high. Pagan and Christian faced each other with bright eyes.
“I do not fear you,” Perpetua said, calmly. “You dare not hold me here against my will. The King himself has no power over a free woman. If you restrain me, I will call for help, and every honest hand in Syracuse will be raised to set me free.”
Lycabetta laughed again, and her laughter seemed to run over her in waves of colored fire as her thin garments trembled on her body. ”

“ The great swords gleamed in the bright air, fell heavily on the lifted shields. All the spectators held their breath. No one expected the fight to last long; and indeed it did not last long. Everybody was confident that the challenger would easily overcome the aged champion, but everybody’s confidence was ill-founded. After a few blows hotly exchanged the sword of Theron struck the helm of his enemy, and to the amazement of the spectators the King’s challenger reeled and fell heavily, clattering to the ground. In a moment Theron was over him with the great sword at the fallen man’s throat. ”

“ Hieronymus held out his crucifix to the doomed man. One of the executioners, who had a torch in readiness, stooped and applied its flame to the piled-up faggots. Red tongues of fire licked at the dry wood.
Even then it seemed to Robert as if again the great darkness came over the world, a darkness in which nothing was visible save the shining shape of an angel. And the angel spoke and the voice was the voice that had spoken the words of doom on the mountain summit.
“Robert of Sicily, purified as by fire, be once again a king, be now and ever a loyal soldier of the living God. ”

“ Drowned in his frenzy of thwarted passion and baffled anger, the King was unaware that a woman had entered the open space from the mountain-path, and was moving with light steps across the grasses towards the spot where he sat and ate his heart. The new-comer was beautiful with a beauty so different from that of the girl whose kingdom was the hill-top that few to whom the one seemed perfect would have found the other all-conquering fair. ”

“ At his feet the fool Diogenes knelt a suppliant; the royal throne was vacant. All in the great amphitheatre were cheering, for they believed that they had seen the King descend from his throne, enter the arena, and order the liberation of Diogenes. And that belief they cherished to the end. But Robert looked into Perpetua’s eyes and read there that she knew better. He caught her hands.
“The hunter wooed you, the King wronged you, the fool served you, the man loves you. Queen of the world, make me indeed a king.” ”