"Before I go," he said, "I have a mind to visit the spot where my brother died.
To Charles, no doubt, this seemed a morbid notion to be discouraged.
But Ludwig was insistent.
"Take me there," he bade the Duke, "Indeed, I scarce know - I was not here, remember," Charles answered him, rendered faintly uneasy, perhaps by a certain grimness in the gaunt King's face, perhaps by the mutterings of his own conscience.
"I know that you were not; but surely you must know the place. It will be known to all the world in these parts. Besides, was it not yourself recovered the body? Conduct me thither, then.
Perforce, then, Charles must do his will. Arm-in-arm they mounted the stairs to that sinister loggia, a half-dozen of Ludwig's escorting officers following.
They stepped along the tessellated floor above the Abbot's garden, flooded now with sunshine which drew the perfume from the roses blooming there.
"Here the King slept," said Charles, "and yonder the Queen.
Somewhere here between the thing was done, and thence they hanged him."Ludwig, tall and grim, stood considering, chin in hand. Suddenly he wheeled upon the Duke who stood at his elbow. His face had undergone a change, and his lip curled so that he displayed his strong teeth as a dog displays them when he snarls.
"Traitor!" he rasped. "It is you - you who come smiling and fawning upon me, and spurring me on to vengeance - who are to blame for what happened here.""I?" Charles fell back, changing colour, his legs trembling under him.
"You!" the King answered him furiously. "His death would never have come about but for your intrigues to keep him out of the royal power, to hinder his coronation.""It is false!" cried Charles. "False! I swear it before God!""Perjured dog! Do you deny that you sought the aid of your precious uncle the Cardinal of Perigord to restrain the Pope from granting the Bull required?""I do deny it. The facts deny it. The Bull was forthcoming.""Then your denial but proves your guilt," the King answered him, and from the leather pouch hanging from his belt, he pulled out a parchment, and held it under the Duke's staring eyes. It was the letter he had written to the Cardinal of Perigord, enjoining him to prevent the Pope from signing the Bull sanctioning Andreas's coronation.
The King smiled terribly into that white, twitching face.
"Deny it now," he mocked him. "Deny, too, that, bribed by the title of Duke of Calabria, you turned to the service of the Queen, to abandon it again for ours when you perceived your danger. You think to use us, traitor, as a stepping-stone to help you to mount the throne - as you sought to use my brother even to the extent of encompassing his murder.""No, no! I had no hand in that. I was his friend - ""Liar!" Ludwig struck him across the mouth.
On the instant the officers of Ludwig laid hands upon the Duke, fearing that the indignity might spur him to retaliation.
"You are very opportune," said Ludwig; and added coldly, "Dispatch him."Charles screamed a moment, even as Andreas had screamed on that same spot, when he found himself staring into the fearful face of death.
Then the scream became a cough as a Hungarian sword went through him from side to side.
They picked up his body from the tessellated floor of the loggia, carried it to the parapet as Andreas's had been carried, and flung it down into the Abbot's garden as Andreas's had been flung. It lay in a rosebush, dyeing the Abbot's roses a deeper red.
Never was justice more poetic.
