The Court Jester Part 19

"No, your Majesty, only a little bruised."

There was the hurried buzz of conversation, which he could not distinguish, and the looped end of a rope was lowered to him, which he secured about his body. Then he was slowly drawn up, and as he swung opposite the nodding blossoms, Philibert reached out his hands and grasped them, pulling them out by the roots.

"What is the matter with the boy? Is he out of his senses?" asked the emperor, who was anxiously watching the ascent to terra firma.

"No, I do not know that you could call him out of his senses exactly,"

replied Le Glorieux. "The Lady Marguerite wanted some edelweiss blossoms, and he was trying to find them for her. I have no doubt that he was after that very bunch when he fell. There is one thing that I have noticed about Philibert," went on the jester, "and that is that when he starts out to do a thing he will do it if it threatens every drop of blood in his body."

"He is a foolhardy youth," said the emperor. "I can understand how one could take almost any risk to kill a chamois, but not to pluck a handful of weeds." But he looked pleased, nevertheless, for he was a man who could appreciate perseverance. And he examined Philibert's wound with careful attention, saying that the two boys and the jester should return to the inn in the company of one of the guides. And Philibert de Bresse still clutched the flowers which he had risked so much to obtain.

Behind the mountaineer's hut, where the remainder of the party expected to spend the night, Le Glorieux took from the spot where he carefully had placed them, a cl.u.s.ter of snowy blossoms, which, with great difficulty, a scratched face, and some bruises, he had gathered before he heard of Philibert's mishap. These children of the snow he threw over the cliff unseen by his companions. "Let him have all the praise and the honor of it," said he to himself. "You are nothing but a fool, Le Glorieux, and you must not be selfish."

The princess received the flowers with a little cry of joy, and she thanked the donor with a smile so beaming, inquiring so tenderly about his wound, that Philibert felt repaid a thousandfold for the trouble he had taken to gratify her wish.

"But, my poor Le Glorieux," said the princess sweetly, "you have an ugly scratch across your face, and your hands are bruised. Have you also had a fall?"

"No, little Cousin," he returned gravely, and with a shake of the head.

"The sc.r.a.pings you notice on my handsome countenance and on my slender hands are but the result of a weakness with which I was born."

"You were not born with those scratches, or I should have observed them long ago," she replied, smiling.

"I said the result of a weakness, your Highness. It is my nature to want to climb. Whenever I see the side of a rock I am seized with an uncontrollable desire to scale it, and climb I must if the sky falls. I always have found it the most agreeable sensation in the world to be clinging to the side of a rock with nothing over me but the blue of the heavens, and nothing beneath me but the blue of some mountain lake and with a delightful feeling of uncertainty as to just where I am to find my next foothold."

"That is an odd taste indeed," she returned, laughing, "and I do not think there are many who share it with you."

Antoine, I regret to say, was a mischievous youth, as we have seen from the trick he played on his friend the jester when they first started out on their journey together, and it may have been--though of course he would have scorned the suggestion--that some of the raps given him by the old d.u.c.h.ess of Burgundy were not altogether undeserved.

However that may be, he surely did meddle with something at the inn which did not concern him, as you shall presently see. That "something"

was a cunning little bear. The innkeeper conducted the jester and the two boys to a rude cage constructed out of the limbs of trees, which he had placed a little distance from the house and near the edge of the forest. Within the cage was a brown bear cub which had been brought to him by a friend. This wild and woolly pet, he said, he was going to train and sell for a good round sum to a traveling mountebank, who would want to exhibit it in the courtyards of inns and before the n.o.bility.

Young Master Bruin was already learning, and one felt that his education would be completed by the time he was full grown. When his master would say "Come," he would obey, and he could stand on his hind feet in a manner that was quite genteel, and he was greatly admired by the three guests of his master, who watched his performances. When replaced in the cage, he walked round and round it, and every time he came to a corner he would bow, as all bears do when caged, but Le Glorieux remarked, "I see that you have begun by teaching him to be polite, and politeness is a great thing in man or beast. There are a good many things we could learn from animals if we would only think about it, though we are so well satisfied with ourselves that we think we are the only living beings in the world who are worth considering. There are not many of us who are as faithful in our friendship as an ordinary dog, and did you ever watch a cat when she had her mind bent on getting a certain mouse?

Talk about patience and perseverance! Why, if a man had as much, he could accomplish almost anything he set out to do!"

"I should like to take that little bear out and play with him," remarked Antoine, as the innkeeper walked on ahead with Philibert.

"Just you take my advice, my young friend, and let that bear alone,"

said the jester, with emphasis. "The owner of the bear will teach him a number of tricks, no doubt, but there is one that he will not be obliged to learn, having been born with it, and that is the art of hugging."

"Pooh!" said Antoine, "a little thing like that could not hurt me. I have played with dogs a good deal larger than that bear."

"You take my advice and let him alone, or the emperor may be asking for one of his favorite songs and find n.o.body at hand to sing it."

But even in this twentieth century a boy may be found once in a while who will not take good advice, though experience always teaches the wisdom of listening to older people, and Antoine allowed the good counsel of Le Glorieux to glide from his mind as drops of water roll off a duck's back, so, at the very first opportunity he could find to do so unseen, he returned to the bear's cage.

Taking the rope which the bear's master had used to lead him about, Antoine opened the door and tried to get the loop about the animal's neck. Master Bruin, as if realizing that here was some one who had no business to tamper with him, growled and gazed at the intruder with a sardonic grin, which revealed all his sharp white teeth.

"You need not look so fierce, you woolly little thing," said the boy; "you are no bigger than a ball of knitting yarn. I should be ashamed to be afraid of you." Then he dragged the rope back and held the loop open in his hand, calling, "Come, come," as the innkeeper had done. But young Bruin crouched sulkily in the extreme end of his domicile, without deigning to move.

Then the boy took a long stick and poked him with it, saying, "You obstinate pig of a bear, we shall see whether you will come out or not.

You have made me lose all patience with you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: In the way of squeezing he was an adept]

The little bear now made up his mind to accept the invitation, and that, too, very swiftly and suddenly, and before Antoine had time to throw the loop over his head or even to think what to do next, the bear was upon him. Bruin scorned to bite. His talent and taste did not lie in that direction, but in the way of squeezing he was an adept. He hugged Antoine as if the boy had been a lost brother now restored to his arms after a lapse of many years. The boy thought of the dagger he wore in his belt, but in order to reach the weapon it was necessary to have the use of his arms, and both of those members were securely pinned to his side by that inconsiderate little bear, who went on squeezing as if he never meant to leave off. Antoine now was very much frightened. He was at the mercy of his foe and he was afraid that the breath would be pressed out of his body in a very short time.

He gave a shrill and ear-piercing yell which brought the innkeeper and Le Glorieux in haste from the house and opened all the windows on that side, where heads were thrust out to see what was the matter.

What the bear thought when he saw his master never will be known. What he did was to release his hold on the boy as suddenly as if the latter had been a hot potato, and scamper away as rapidly as his clumsy legs could carry him. The two men ran in pursuit, but their efforts were unavailing, for Master Bruin had deserted civilization forevermore.

"I warned you, did I not, to let that bear alone?" asked Le Glorieux indignantly. "Did I not tell you that he was terrible when it came to hugging? Why did you do just what I warned you not to do? People who refuse to take good advice are always sorry for it."

"I only wanted to have a little sport with him," whimpered Antoine. "I did not know that bears could hug so hard."

"You have found it out now," said the jester. "You have played our friend here a fine trick. He was keeping the bear in order to sell him at a good price, and you, in spite of everything I could say to you, must let the animal escape. It would be no more than fair for you to pay whatever he is worth to our good host and consider yourself lucky with getting off without a cuffing in addition--a punishment you deserve!"

Antoine felt the justice of this remark and emptied out the contents of his purse. But when he saw what a small sum it was, Le Glorieux relented and said gently, "Put aside your money, my boy; there is not enough to bother about. You are one of our party, the emperor's and mine, and I will pay for the damage you have done." And he offered the innkeeper a handful of silver. The latter, being upright as well as good-natured, refused to take all the money offered him by the jester, merely taking what he had expected to receive for the bear, showing that honesty is a plant that will flourish anywhere, provided the ground be favorable.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The remains of what once had been a velvet glove]

The Lady Marguerite had an experience of her own with one of the pets belonging to the inn. When she and her ladies returned from their walk they were met at the door by the landlady, who was as pale and terrified as if some calamity had overtaken her. In her left hand she extended toward the princess a wet and torn object which resembled a piece of mop rag that had seen long service, but which in reality was the remains of what once had been a velvet glove embroidered with seed pearls. Under her right arm she held with some difficulty, for he was wriggling with all his might, a small puppy of the age when dogs believe that the chief object of life is to chew things, and who looked at the princess with an impudent little bark, just as if he had not been striving with all the patience and perseverance of which he was capable to reduce a piece of her property to a pulp.

"Oh, this hound, this hound, your Highness!" moaned the poor woman. "I have tried my utmost to keep him out of the way of your Highness and out of the bedchamber of your Highness! My boys and my husband, they will have every kind of an animal about, but for me I hate them all--I mean the animals, your Highness, and not my husband and my sons. And this hound, your Highness, he has been determined to go into your bedchamber at any cost, though I have driven him away from it again and again. He seems to have had nothing else on his mind since your Highness has honored this poor place with your presence. And when I went in your room this morning to put it in order, he slipped in unseen by me and remained under a chair, occupied in chewing this valuable glove just as if it had been the object of his life to feed upon pearls."

"Never mind," said the Lady Marguerite soothingly. "They are too small to injure him, even if he has swallowed any of them."

"Injure him! What should I care for him?" cried the woman. "It is the loss of the glove belonging to your Highness that distresses me."

"Oh, do not trouble yourself about the glove; I have plenty more. But what a pretty puppy, and a fine breed, too."

"Yes, your Highness, the breed is well enough," replied the woman sadly, as if she wished that the puppy had striven more faithfully to live up to the traditions of his race.

"I should like to have him," said the princess, "and you shall be paid whatever you think that he is worth."

"Does your Highness want a dog that has just wrought such destruction?"

asked the good woman, in amazement.

"Of course, why not?" said Marguerite, taking the dog in her own arms.

"You did not know that it was my glove, did you, doggie?"

"Your Highness is perfectly welcome to him for nothing at all," was the reply, but the princess insisted upon paying her a price for the small animal, which the landlady considered sufficient to purchase all the dogs in the Tyrol. And his new mistress named him Brutus, which was a very grown-up and dignified name for so small and mischievous a member of the dog family, and as he was very intelligent he became the most favored of Marguerite's pets.

When they returned to the palace at Innsbruck Le Glorieux said, "Little Cousin, we each have a souvenir of the trip; you have the puppy, your father has some fine chamois horns, Philibert has a cut temple, Antoine sore ribs, while I have a scratched face, owing to my pa.s.sion for climbing."

CHAPTER X

A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE