Adventure Magazine Cover — page 128: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_ away, accompanied by his fellows. - igo swore roundly after them and clutched The Grand Cham thought, should have construed the freedom of the city as an invitation to the féte! A distant snarling and barking sounded from within the palace, plainly to be heard now that the fiddlers had ceased playing in order to watch the spectacle. “‘Throw them both to the dogs; strip them both,” called a lackey from the rear of the throng. But Michael’s glance had sought out the courtier who had laughed, and his gray eyes were very hard. Seeing his set face, those nearest him with the exception of the slightly intoxicated Mocenigo, gave back slightly. “No need to fetch the dogs, my good cur,” Michael smiled at the man who had laughed. “The pack is here and—till now—in full 9 There was an exclamation at this and a rustling of feet. The servitors sensed a quarrel and realized from the way Michael spoke that he was a Frenchman of good blood. Whereupon they discreetly waited for the quarrel to be taken up by their betters. “°Od’s death!” swore the courtier who had laughed, making however no move forward. “Seize him, ye varlets, and hale him into the lagoon.” The lackeys nearest Michael advanced obediently, but without enthusiasm. Bait- ing a victim lost. its savor’ when the prey showed fight. Then one of them cried out - shrilly: “Ho, this is Master Bearn who conquered the Turks in the Orient. Not an hour since he overcame Pietro Rudolfo in the street with his sword.” A silence fell on the group at the head of the stairs. The servants remembered that they were unarmed and retreated promptly. Bembo looked up again with hope in his wavering eyes. ‘Michael, standing his ground with his left hand at his belt, reflected that Rudolfo must have a reputation here. Muttering something about looking to the dogs, the man who had laughed slipped Mocen- uncertainly at his sword. At once Michael stepped forward, grip- _ ping the other’s wrist and wrenching down- ward as the young noble started to free his blade from its scabbard. The weapon 127 clattered to the tiled floor and Mocenigo’s right hand was helpless in Michael’s left. Now the courtier was no younger than the seaman, but his smooth face made a _ strong contrast with Michael’s brown coun- tenance wherein the skin was drawn taut over jutting bones and deep lines ran from nose to mouth. Mocenigo, flushed, made no struggle, knowing that his strength was overmatched; instead he waited with a dangerous quiet for Michael to strike or taunt or reach for a weapon. He did not know that the Breton had but one useful arm. “You are no coward,” grunted Michael, “but you carry your wine badly, my lord. The cups make a man quarrelsome.” With that he released Mocenigo, picked up the latter’s weapon, handed it to him and turned his back. The courtier handled his blade irresolutely, staring at the seaman’s back. “Close the door,’’ Michael was instructing the chamberlain, who—seeing that Mocen- igo made no move—obeyed, thus shutting out the curious throng in the court. “You were best away from here, Bembo,” said Michael quickly to the jester. ‘Some side postern; this is your chance.” When Bembo had vanished from the hall he wheeled on the gazing Mocenigo. ‘This mocking of a fool ill beséems your chivalry my lord.” At this the young courtier flushed more deeply than before, and sheathed his sword covertly. strange man and a ready one. wrong and I apologize.” fully. France?” “Nay, signor—my mother was of cule folk, but I am a commoner, without land or 2 I was in the He bowed grace- Michael nodded afiably: to the perplexed chamberlain. “Now that I am here, announce me to your master. In the haste of the moment I forgot to say that he bade me comé to the féte.”’ But when the three sought Contarini they found him and the circle of his friends seat- ed, listening to the tale of the voyager. Only one of the listeners noticed Michael’s entry into the audience chamber in the rear of the assemblage and that one was Pietro Rudolfo. r EOmMmiGcboo <Si “’Od’s blood, signor, you are a - “Surely you are of gentle blood in (S@)