Adventure Magazine Cover — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

AS § pe FP al | w APT ¥ ., % \ 4 ry : i... A Re Sct = ~ “ $i 5s bs _ walked away across the bridge. The Grand Cham press upon my way. Iam in haste to hear - a most wonderful tale of a voyager who has found a new road to the riches of the East, more vast than those narrated by Ser Marco Polo himself.”’ Michael bowed, realizing that Rudolfo would not fight now. “Will you direct me,” he asked, “to the féte of my lord Contarini, the leader of t great council? I have lost my way.” Soranzi’s lips parted to respond, but Ru- dolfo nudged him. “Follow this alley,” the condottiere direct- ed curtly, “‘in the direction Messer Soranzi came for some distance.” With that he turned on his heel, took the arm of-Soranzi and with a backward glance The lan- thorn was soon lost to sight around a bend in a street where Michael had been wander- ing. Sheathing his dagger, the Breton listened to the retreating footsteps, and laughed heartily but silently in the darkness. “Tis a rare jest,” he thought. ‘‘Soranzi ' perchance would have directed meSaright, but the excellent Rudolfo saw fit to send me mum-chance in the wrong course. Aye, I make no doubt they are bound to the Palazzo Contarini themselves.” The reflection that Rudolfo had been at pains to keep him away from the féte caused Michael wonder whether the con- dottiere had not had a stronger motive than the desire for revenge in attacking him. Rudolfo had known from Michael’s own words that he was bound for the Contarini Palace. Of course it would not be particularly pleasing to Rudolfo to have Michael appear at the palace where they would, perhaps, meet. But surely if the captain of mercen- aries had merely wished the killing of Michael his wish could better have been fulfilled by sending bravi after the Breton when the latter left the palace. Michael felt sure that Rudolfo had good reason for wanting at some cost to keep him from the palace. By now Michael was conscious again that he was very hungry. Opposition served to whet his desire to go to the féte. Following the retreating footsteps by ear, he passed over the bridge again, into a dark passage he had not noticed before that led him presently out upon a wide terrace over- eeoking a brightly lighted court. 125 IV MICHAEL IS ADMITTED GOR An tA and Rudolfo were just disap- pearing within the gate of the Con- tarini house. A throng of gondoliers and servitors grouped on the steps that led from the tiles of the court to the door gave back with low bows. Just as ceremoniously a chamberlain, standing within the entrance, greeted them—as Michael observed. He cast a swift glance around the court. It fronted a canal by which the guests were coming to the féte. In one corner some fiddlers and flute-players assisted by a be- draggled dancing bear were amusing the waiting servants and helping to empty a huge table of its meat and wine. It was this music he had heard from the alleys in the rear of the establishment. Near at hand a fat Turkish gymnast in a soiled silk khilat was making the commoners gape by balancing two swords, one above the other, on his forehead and squealing shrilly as if to call attention to his prowess. From a window of the palace the low sound of a woman’s laugh floated out over the court. It was not a pleasant laugh, holding as it did a veiled note of discontent. “That would be the new donna, my lord Contarini’s choice of a mistress,”’ observed one lackey in the throng about the sword-- juggler to another. ‘““A red-headed she-fox,’”’ mumbled a sec- ond who had had his share of red wine. ‘“‘ “Grant I stumble not over her train 4s “Or spill aught on her finery. she craves jewels as ye thirst for the flagon. She it was that coaxed my lord—who is: made o’ drier stuff, wot—to have the voyager tell his tale.” “Nay.” The lackey nodded solemnly over a tankard. ‘All Venice repeats that the riches of Cathay are found at last. Hide o’ the ——, ’twill do us no good, but Messer Rat-Face Soranzi has come running, holding up his skirts like a woman 2 Both laughed and Michael smiled at the description of the stout merchant with the thin face. He was ascending the steps con- fidently when the chamberlain stopped him at the door. “T know not your face, signor. Were you bidden to the palace this evening?” . Michael halted, his foot on the top step. Looking down the long hall within, he could ’Tis said CORNICE OOOKSqeO