ntment and relapse
into unquiet revery; the weight of empire hung heavily upon her girlish
spirit and she was unutterably lonely in the absence of Janus which
seemed so unduly prolonged. It was the latest day that he had named for
his possible absence, and still no courier had come to announce his
return.

The noon had been unusually sultry, the stifling heat of the upper
chambers oppressed her and the ceaseless, rasping whir of the cicala
smote her with weariness, but she resisted the attempt of her ladies to
detain her in the cooler atmosphere of the _voto_, for in these
underground chambers she could have no sight of the great plain beyond
the boundaries of the palace-gardens--and she preferred remaining in the
halls that overlooked the terraces--turning her eyes often in the
direction of the forest.

It was like a pall upon them all to see their young mistress, usually so
gracious and responsive, wholly absorbed in her troubled revery; but
to-day her maidens played their sweetest strains upon their silvery
lutes, without her answering smile; the gentlemen of her court sought in
vain for some diversion to distract her; even the Lady Margherita could
do nothing for her pleasure, while she watched in unobtrusive
tenderness, feeling that quiet, however unsatisfying, was more welcome
than speech.

The pages, at a sign from the Lady Margherita, had dipped their fronds
of feather in the great vases of mountain-snow that stood between the
columns, and waved them about the chamber; the queen followed their
movements with a fleeting smile as this breath of coolness reached her,
then fixed her eyes again, with a despairing look, upon the distant
forest.

"She wearieth for the King," her maidens said low to each other, "and
verily he may come to-night, for the days have already numbered more
than he giveth of wont to the chase."

"She is not like herself," the Lady Ecciva de Montferrat whispered to
her young Venetian companion, Eloisa Contarini, as the company strolled
out upon the terraces at a sign from the Lady Beata Bernardini whose
loving motherly eyes saw that Caterina needed rest and solitude. "She is
strange and pale to-day--like one who hath seen a vision." Lady Ecciva
spoke with deep seriousness, for superstition was a vital part of the
Cyprian nature, belonging alike to peasant and noble.

"How meanest thou--_a vision_?" Eloisa questioned, startled.

The other turned to see that they were not followed and an