Part 29 (1/2)

Were they speaking?--His heart thumped so that he could not hear. Santa Maria!--death could not be worse!

”Thou art summoned; they are calling thee,” said Fra Giulio, close beside him, in a low, hard voice that changed to one more compa.s.sionate as the friar turned his livid face toward him. ”I know not thy fault, but Fra Paolo will plead for thee; for thou art ill, verily.”

”Fra Paolo is no man of mercy.”

”Nay, but of justice. He will not remember thy discourtesies.”

”_Discourtesies_!” ay, it was true; Fra Giulio did not know--n.o.body knew; he would take courage and plead to be forgiven his manifold ”discourtesies” toward this idol of the Servi; it was for this that he was summoned! The palace guards were approaching the low pa.s.sage, and the extremity of his need steadied him; he rallied all his powers for a last effort, and, shaking off their touch, advanced into the court--his face, withered and pain-stricken, might have plead for him but for the strange hardness of the lines.

”It was a sudden malady that bade me seek my cell,” he gasped. ”I knew not that your Excellency had need of me.”

He was a ghastly thing in his fear.

The inexorable Chief of the Ten surveyed him in silence for a brief moment that seemed unending.

”Ay, Fra Antonio, we _have_ need of thee--more than another. For word hath reached Venice, privately, from special friendly sources in Rome, that thou art come hither charged with a message of vital import to a trusted servant of the Republic. Thou hast leave of the Signoria to declare it in this presence.”

Fra Antonio opened his dry lips and framed some words of which he heard no echo.

”The Inquiry of Venice is satisfied,” said the Chief. ”Thou art the man whom we seek. Conduct him to the gondola of the Piombi.”

Fra Antonio fell upon his knees in wild supplication as the guards gathered around him, but the Father Superior detained them with a prohibitory motion.

”I crave your Excellency's pardon. For the better ruling of this community and the clearing of all the innocent among our brotherhood, I have summoned hither every soul under my rule. That no scandal may arise, your Excellency will permit that the charge under which this arrest is made be declared.”

a.s.sent was given by an impatient gesture.

”Fra Antonio, while he hath been a recipient of our hospitality,” said the Superior, ”is described by trustworthy advices from our Chapter in Rome, but just received, as a person who hath designs upon the life of a member of this community.”

”It is a false scandal,” cried Fra Antonio, who had found his voice at last. ”I shall not be condemned without proof!”

”The truth is known,” said Fra Paolo, leaning toward him and speaking low. ”It were better for thee to confess--or depart in silence.”

But the man was beside himself with fear; he caught at his last, desperate chance of favor, dragging himself to the feet of Fra Paolo and pouring out an abject tale of petty jealousies and offenses for which he obsequiously craved pardon of this ”idol of the convent,” protesting, with horrible oaths, that he was guilty of nothing more.

The rare shade of compa.s.sion that had softened Fra Paolo's face when he gave his warning, deepened to a glory and his eyes shone with a grace that was like love, as he raised the wretched man and strove to arrest his torrent of words. ”_G.o.d_ heareth thee, my brother,” he said pleadingly; ”have pity on thine own soul. Kneel to Him alone in thy great need. But spend not thy strength with trifles that demean us both.

If thine heart hath aught against me, I forgive it.”

Then turning to the Chief he besought that the trial should be short--”For the man is ill, and I would have quiet speech with him.”

”For the honor of the Servi, let the matter be dispatched, and let proof be brought,” the Superior demanded, surprised and displeased at any softness in Fra Paolo, whose dominant note was justice, rather than mercy.

”We will grant him the favor of a farewell collation ere he taketh leave of his entertainers,” said the Giustinian. ”Let the refection be brought.”

The friars exchanged glances of astonishment and dismay as a dish of fruit and of white bread were brought forward by two of the ducal guards, on a costly salver wrought with the arms of Venice. It was like the simple refreshment they had often carried to Fra Paolo's cell when he had been absorbed by some train of thought, which, according to his wont, he would not suspend for any hour of sleep or meals until the problem had been conquered. Fra Giulio trembled; he would have said those were the very grapes he had chosen to tempt Fra Paolo's slender appet.i.te,--white, with the veins of purple,--all as he had left them on his desk that day, with the plate of fine white bread, when the midday meal was served--but in no lordly dish.

A faint cry escaped Fra Antonio, and he put his hands before his face.

There was a moment of breathless silence; but no compa.s.sion anywhere upon all those strained and eager faces, except in the eyes of Fra Paolo, which seemed divine in pity, as he drew nearer the guilty man and put his arm about him to steady him.