Under the Rose Part 40

The entrance of the servant to remove the dishes interrupted their further conversation. As the door opened, from below came the voices of new-comers, the impatient call of tipplers for ale, the rattle of dishes in the kitchen. Wrapped in the recollections the conversation had evoked, to Jacqueline the din pa.s.sed unnoticed, and when the rosy-cheeked la.s.s had gone--it was the jester who first spoke.

"What a commentary on the mockery of fate that the sword of such a man, so ill.u.s.trious, so unfortunate, should be intrusted to a fool!"

"Why," she said, looking at him, her arms on the table, "you drew it bravely, and--once--more bravely--kept it sheathed."

His face flushed. She half smiled; then placed the blade on the board before him.

"There it is."

Above the sword he reached over, as if to place his hand on hers, but she quickly rose. Absently he returned the weapon to his girdle. She took a step or two from him, nervously; lifted her hand to her brow and breathed deeply.

"How tired I feel!" she said.

Immediately he got up. "You are worn out from the journey," he observed, quickly.

But he knew it was not the journey that had most affected her.

"I will leave you," he went on. "Have you everything you need?"

"Everything," she answered carelessly.

He walked to the door. The light was on his face; hers remained shaded.

"Good-night," she said.

"Good-night, Jacqueline, d.u.c.h.ess of Dubrois," he answered, and, turning, disappeared down the corridor.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DWARF MAKES AN EARLY CALL

From one of the watch-towers of the town rang the clear note of a trumpet, a tribute of melody, occasioned by the awakening in the east.

As the last clarion tones reechoed over the sleeping village, a crimson rim appeared above the horizon and soon the entire wheel of the chariot of the sun-G.o.d rolled up out of the illimitable abyss and began its daily race across the sky. The stolid bugler yawned, tucked his trumpet under his arm, and, having perfunctorily performed the duties of his office, tramped downward with more alacrity than he had toiled upward.

About the same time the sleepy guard at the town gate was relieved by an equally drowsy-appearing trooper; here and there windows were flung open, and around the well in the small public square the maids began to congregate. In the tap-room of the tavern the landlord moved about, setting to rights the tables and chairs, or sprinkling fresh sand on the floor. The place had a stale, close odor, as though not long since vacated by an inabstinent company, a supposition further borne out by the disorder of the furniture, and the evidence the gathering had not been over-nice about spilling the contents of their toss-pots. The host had but opened the front door, permitting the fresh, invigorating air from without to enter, when the duke's _plaisant_, his cloak over his arm, descended the stairs, and, addressing the landlord, asked when he and his companion could be provided with breakfast.

"Breakfast!" grumbled the proprietor. "The maids are hardly up and the fires must yet be started. It will be an hour or more before you can be served."

The jester appeared somewhat dissatisfied, but contented himself with requesting the other to set about the meal at once.

"You ride forth early," answered the man, in an aggrieved tone.

The _plaisant_ made no reply as he strode to the door and looked out; noted sundry signs of awakening life down the narrow street, and then returned to the tap-room.

"You had a noisy company here last night, landlord?" he vouchsafed, glancing around the room and recalling the laughter and shouts he had heard below until a late hour.

"Noisy company!" retorted the innkeeper. "A goodly company that ate and drank freely. Distinguished company that paid freely. The king's own guards who are acting as escort to Robert, the Duke of Friedwald, and his bride, the princess. Noisy company, forsooth."

The young man started. "The king's guards!" he said. "What are they doing here?"

The other vigorously rubbed the top of a table with a damp cloth.

"Acting as escort to the duke, as I told you," he replied.

"The duke is here, also?"

"Yes; at the chateau. The princess had become weary of travel; besides, had sprained her ankle, I heard, and would have it the cavalcade should tarry a few days. They e'en stopped at my door," he went on ostentatiously, "and called for a gla.s.s of wine for the princess. 'Tis true she took it with a frown, but the hardships of journeying do not agree with grand folks."

These last words the jester, absorbed in thought, did not hear. With his back to the man, he stood gazing through the high window, apparently across the street. But between the two houses on the other side of the thoroughfare was a considerable open s.p.a.ce, and through this, far away, on the mount, could be seen the chateau. The sunlight shone bright on turret and spire; its walls were white and glistening; its outlines, graceful and airy as a fabric of imagination.

"And yet it was a handsome cavalcade," continued the proprietor, his predilection for pomp overcoming his churlishness. "The princess on a steed with velvet housings, set with precious stones. Her ladies attired in eastern silks. Behind the men of arms; Francis' troops in rich armor; the duke's soldiers more simply arrayed. At the head of the procession rode--"

"Have the horses brought out at once."

Thus brusquely interrupted, the innkeeper stared blankly at his guest, who had left the window and now stood in the center of the room confronting him. "And the breakfast?" asked the man.

"I have changed my mind and do not want it," was the curt response.

The host shrugged his shoulders disagreeably, as the plaisant turned and ascended the stairs. "Unprofitable travelers," muttered the landlord, following with his gaze the retreating figure.

Hastily making his way to the room of the young girl, the jester knocked on the door.

"Are you awake, Jacqueline?"

"Yes," answered a voice within.

"We must ride forth as soon as possible. The duke is at the chateau."

"At the chateau!" she exclaimed in surprise. Then after a pause: "And Triboulet saw us. He will tell that you are here. I will come down at once. Wait," she added, as an afterthought seized her.

He heard her step to the window. "I think the gates of the chateau are open," she said. "I am not sure; it is so far."

"Do you see any one on the road leading down?"

"No," came the answer.

"Nor could I. But perhaps they have already pa.s.sed."

Again the jester returned to the tap-room, where he found the landlord polishing the pewter tankards.

"The horses?" said the fool sharply.

"The stable boy will bring them to the door," was the response, and the innkeeper held a pot in the air and leisurely surveyed the shining surface.

"The reckoning?"

Deliberately the man replaced the receptacle on the table, and, pressing his thumbs together, began slowly to calculate: "Bottle of wine, ten sous; capon, twenty sous; two rooms--" when the jester took from his coat the purse the young girl had given him, and, selecting a coin, threw it on the board. At the sight of the purse and its golden contents the countenance of the proprietor mollified; his price forthwith varied with his changed estimate of his guest's condition.