probably innocent
of any participation in the scheming of his followers; Petrarch compares
the young queen and her consort to two lambs in the midst of wolves. The
time for Joanna's formal coronation was fixed for September 20, 1345,
and some weeks before, while the palace was being decorated and prepared
for this great event, the young couple had retired to the Celestine
monastery at Aversa, some fifteen miles away. Joanna, who was soon to
become a mother, was much benefited by this change of scene, and all was
peace and happiness about them, with nothing to indicate the awful
tragedy which the future held in store. On the night of September 18th,
two days before the coronation was to take place, Andreas was called
from the queen's apartment by the information that a courier from Naples
was waiting to see him upon urgent business. In the dark corridor
without, he was at once seized by some person or persons whose identity
has never been made clear, who stopped his mouth with their gloves and
then strangled him and suspended his body from a balcony. The cord,
however, was not strong enough to stand the strain, and broke, and the
body fell into the garden below. There the assassins would have buried
it upon the spot, if they had not been put to flight by a servant of the
palace, who gave the alarm.

This deed of violence gave rise to much suspicion, and the assertion is
often made that Joanna had at least connived at her husband's unhappy
end. Indeed, there is a story--which is without foundation, however--to
the effect that Andreas found her one day twisting a silken rope with
which it was her intention to have him strangled; and when he asked her
what she was doing, she replied, with a smile: "Twisting a rope with
which to hang you!" But it is difficult to believe the truth of any of
these imputations. If she were cruel enough to desire her husband's
death, and bold enough to plan for it, she was also intelligent enough
to execute her purpose in a manner less foolish and less perilous to
herself. Never, up to this time, had she given the slightest indication
of such cruelty in her character, and never after that time was the
slightest suspicion cast upon her for any other evil act. How, then,
could it be possible that Andreas had been murdered by her order?
Whatever the cause of this ferocious outbreak, the Hungarian faction,
struck with consternation, fled in all directions, not knowing what to
expect. The next morni