'Yes. Tell him so from me. And now, go back, Kyria, and thank you for your guidance and your lantern in those dark stairs.'

'How shall you pa.s.s the gate?' asked the captain's wife.

She spoke anxiously, for Zeno was a handsome man, and she had seen how brave he was.

'I do not know,' he answered, 'but one of two things must happen.'

'What things?'

'Either I shall get out or I shall never see daylight again! I shall not let myself be taken alive to be impaled in the Hippodrome, I a.s.sure you. Thank you again, and good-night.'

She drew back into the shadow of the tower door and watched the handsome young man with the peculiar half-motherly, half-sentimental anxiety of the middle-aged woman, who was a flirt in her youth and turned the heads of just such men, who knows that she is grown fat and ugly and can never turn the head of another, but who has preserved many tender and pleasant recollections of all the s.e.x.

Zeno did not walk straight towards the gate, though it was easily distinguished from the adjacent buildings by the greater number of its lights. He crossed the wide court diagonally to the right, in the direction of the stables, till he was near enough to see distinctly any one who chanced to come under the rays of one of the scattered lamps that burned here and there in doorways and open windows. Before long he saw a trooper of the guards emerging rather unsteadily out of the darkness into one of these small circles of light. Zeno could not help smiling to himself at the idea that there was hardly one sober man awake among the guards that night, and that they had all drunk themselves stupid with his money.

He overtook the man in half-a-dozen strides, and spoke to him in a low voice.

'Hi! comrade! You who are still perfectly sober, help a friend who is very drunk!'

The man stopped, steadied himself, and answered with ponderous gravity.

'Perfectly--hic--hic--sober!'

'I wish I were!' replied Zeno. 'The truth is, I am exceedingly drunk, though I do not show it. Wine only affects my brains, never my legs or my tongue. It is a very strange thing!'

'Very--cu--hic--rious!' responded the soldier, trying to see his interlocutor clearly, by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his eyes.

'Extraordinarily cuhicrious, as you justly observe,' Zeno answered gravely. 'But the fact is----'

'Excuse me--hic,' interrupted the soldier. 'Are you one man--hic--or two men?'

'One man,' Zeno answered. 'Only one, and so drunk that I have quite forgotten the pa.s.sword.'

'Sec--hic--ret,' hiccoughed the man. 'Pa.s.sword secret,' he repeated, with a tremendous effort.

'Here is a gold piece, my dear friend. You will help a comrade in trouble.'

The man took the money eagerly, and tried to put it into his wallet.

To do so he had to bend his head down so as to see the thongs that fastened it. It took a long time to find them.

'Just give me the pa.s.sword before you do that,' Zeno said in a coaxing tone.

'Pa.s.sword?' The man looked up stupidly.

The effort of undoing the thongs had been too much for him, and had sent the blood to his head. He staggered against the Venetian, and tried to speak. After many efforts he got the words out suddenly.

'Drunk, by Moses!' he cried, quite distinctly, as he fell in a heap at Zeno's feet.

In his vexation Zeno could have kicked the stupid ma.s.s of humanity across the great yard, but he was far too wise to waste his time so unprofitably. Instead of kicking him he stepped across him, thrust his hands under the unconscious man's armpits, hove him up like a sack of flour, got him over his shoulder, and carried him to the open door of the nearest stable, whence the light came. Five horses stood or lay in their stalls, but the sixth stall was vacant, and there was fresh straw in it. Zeno threw the man down there, and looked round, to see that no one else was in the place. He hesitated a moment as to whether he should shut the door, but decided that to do so might attract the attention of a sober man, if there were any about, which was doubtful.

The trooper was now sound asleep, and it was the work of a few moments to pull off his boots of soft leather and slip them on, for Zeno had left his own in the boat, and had walked in his cloth hose; he took off the soldier's sword-belt and tunic next, the latter of rich scarlet cloth trimmed with heavy silver lace, the belt being entirely covered with silver scales. The drunken sleeper grunted with satisfaction when he felt himself relieved of his useless clothes, and settled himself comfortably in the straw while Zeno put on the tunic over his own buff jerkin and drew the belt tight round his waist, settled the man's tall Greek cap on his own head at the proper angle, as the troopers wore it, and threw the military cloak over his arm.

He could now easily pa.s.s himself for a trooper at the gate, and a man who has been a soldier is rarely at a loss amongst soldiers, especially if he wears a uniform. In consideration of what he had taken, Zeno, who was an honest man of business, left the man his wallet with the piece of gold and anything else it might contain, and after carefully removing a few wisps of straw that clung to his clothes, he went towards the door of the stable.

His plan was to saunter to the gate and loiter there till a chance offered of opening the small night-postern in the great door, which he had noticed in pa.s.sing the palace when the gates were open. The fact of his being sober when almost every one else was more or less intoxicated, would give him a great advantage.

But as he turned from the sleeper and walked along the line from the empty stall, which was the last, his eye fell on the saddles and bridles, neatly arranged on stout pegs that projected from the walls, each set opposite the stall of the horse to which it belonged. He peered out into the wide court, and listened for the sound of voices.

From very far away he heard the echo of a drinking chorus, less loud than the noise made behind him by one of the horses that had a fancy for a mouthful of hay just then, and was chewing it conscientiously as only animals can chew.

All was very quiet outside. Zeno changed his plan, turned back into the stable, and began to saddle the horse farthest from the door. He did not mean to ride far, else he would have picked out his mount with all the judgement he possessed. There was but a dash to make, and it was far more important that no pa.s.sing trooper should see him in the act of putting on saddle and bridle than that he should have the best horse under him afterwards. Besides, they were all big, hay-fed animals, sleek and sleepy, mostly white Tunisians, and much more fit for a procession than a campaign.

When he had finished, he led the charger past the other stalls, stopping just before he reached the door to put out the oil lamp that hung by the entrance. This done, he slipped his arm through the bridle and left the stable. He struck across the deserted court towards the palace, until he was almost in the middle of the yard, and opposite the great gate, towards which he looked steadily for some seconds, trying to make out, by the uncertain light that dimly illuminated it from within, whether the doors under the arch were open or shut. There was just a possibility that they might be open. It was worth trying for; and after all, if they were barred, he was sure that he could impose upon the sentinels to open them. A man accustomed to command does not doubt that he must be obeyed when he a.s.serts himself.

Zeno mounted the big horse, which was as quiet as any old circus hack in the Hippodrome, trained to let a dancing-girl skip the rope on his broad back. His rider put him from a walk to a canter, and from a canter to a thundering gallop that roused echoes all round the court.

As he came near he saw that the doors were shut, but he did not slacken speed till he was almost upon the startled sentinels. Then he drew rein suddenly, as was the practice of horsemanship in those days, and the great Tunisian threw himself back on his haunches with outstretched forefeet, while Zeno called out to the watch.

'On the Emperor's service!' he shouted. 'The gates, and quickly!'

The sentinels were tolerably sober, for they were not to get their full share of the flood of wine that was flowing till their guard was relieved. But they could hardly be blamed for obeying Zeno's imperative command. It was not likely that a guardsman of their troop who wished to slip out of barracks for a night's amus.e.m.e.nt would dress himself in full uniform and come galloping and shouting to the gate, nor that any trooper would dare to pretend that he rode on the Emperor's business if it were not true.

The two sentinels therefore did not hesitate, but set their long cavalry lances upright against the walls on either side, took down the bar, and laid hold of the ponderous gates, each man taking one and throwing himself backwards with all his weight to move it. When once started, the doors swung slowly but easily backwards. Zeno sat motionless in the saddle, ready to dash forward as soon as there was room for him to pa.s.s. He had halted just far enough away to allow the doors to swing clear of his horse's head as they were pulled inward.

It was an anxious moment.

A second more and there would be s.p.a.ce between the yawning gates. But that second had not yet pa.s.sed when a tall officer in scarlet rushed shouting from the open door of the guard-house, and seized Zeno's bridle.

'Stop him!' yelled the lieutenant. 'Shut the gates!'

The two soldiers did their best to obey instantly, but the leaves of the gate were of cypress wood four inches thick, and covered with bronze, and were swinging back faster now under the impulse they had received. It was impossible to check them suddenly, and the order was hardly spoken when Zeno saw that there was room to ride through.

He would have given his fortune for a pair of Arab spurs at that moment, but he struck the corners of his heels at the horse's sides with all his might, and almost lifted him by the bridle at the same time. The big Tunisian answered the call upon his strength better than the rider had dared to hope; he gathered himself and lifted his forequarters, shaking his head savagely to get rid of the hands that grasped the off rein close to the bit, and then he dashed forwards, straight between the doors, throwing the officer to the ground and dragging him violently away in the powerful stride of his heavy gallop.

Seeing what had happened the sentinels started in pursuit at full speed, following the sound of the charger's shoes on the cobble-stones rather than anything they could see, for it was as dark as pitch outside.

The officer, who was very active and seemed indifferent to the frightful risk he ran, still clung to the bridle, regained his feet, ran nimbly by the side of the galloping horse, and seemed about to spring up and close with Zeno to drag him from the saddle. Zeno had no weapon within reach now, for his knife was in his own belt, under the belted tunic he wore over his clothes, and he could not possibly get at it. But the officer was unarmed, too, as he had sprung from his couch, and was at a great disadvantage on foot.

They dashed on into the darkness of the broad street. Zeno bent down, and tried to get at his adversary's collar with his right hand, but the officer dodged him and jerked the bridle with desperate energy, bringing the Tunisian to a stand after one more furious plunge. At the same instant Zeno heard the footsteps of the two guardsmen running up behind, and he realised that the odds were three to one against him, and that he had no weapon in his hand. The troopers, of course, had their Greek sabres. If he could not escape, he must either be taken alive or cut to pieces on the spot, with no defence but his bare hands.

He did not hesitate. The officer, dragging down the charger's head by his weight to stop him, was almost on his knees for a moment, on the off side, of course, and the soldiers had not yet come up. Zeno dropped the reins, sprang from the saddle, and ran for his life.

CHAPTER XII

Zoe sat in the dark just within the open doorway of Zeno's house, before the marble steps. She was shivering with cold, now that the danger to herself was over, and she was bent with pain, though she scarcely knew she was hurt; for she was conscious only of her anxiety for Zeno. If he got out of the tower and reached his home, he would certainly come in by that door, since he had left it open, and the one on the land side was barred; and there was a way of coming round the house to the water's edge without entering the gate or pa.s.sing through the fore-court.