Under the Rose Part 41

"Two rooms, fifty sous; fodder, forty sous"--he went on. "That would make--"

"Keep the coin," said the _plaisant_, "and have the stable boy make haste."

With new alacrity, the innkeeper thrust the pistole into a leathern pouch he carried at his girdle. A guest who paid so well could afford to be eccentric, and if he and the young lady chose to travel without breakfast, it was obviously not for the purpose of economy. Therefore, exclaiming something about "a lazy rascal that needed stirring up," the now interested landlord was about to go to the barn himself, when, with a loud clattering, a party of hors.e.m.e.n rode up to the tavern; the door burst open and Triboulet, followed by a tall, rugged-looking man and a party of troopers, entered the hall.

Swiftly the jester glanced around him; the room had no other door than that before which the troopers were crowded; he was fairly caught in a trap. Remorsefully his thoughts flew to the young girl and the trust she had imposed in him. How had he rewarded that confidence? By a temerity which made this treachery on the part of the hunchback possible. Even now before him stood Triboulet, bowing ironically.

"I trust you are well?" jeered the dwarf, and with a light, dancing step began to survey the other from side to side. "And the lady--is she also well this morning? How pleased you both were to see me yesterday!" a.s.suming an insolent, albeit watchful, pose. "So you believed I had run away from the duke? As if he could get on without me. What would be a honeymoon without Triboulet! The maids of honor would die of ennui. One day they trick me out with true-lovers' knots!

the next, give me a Cupid's head for a wand. Leave the duke!" he repeated, bombastically. "Triboulet could not be so unkind."

"Enough of this buffoonery!" said a decisive voice, and the dwarf drew back, not without a grimace, to make room for a person of soldierly mien, who now pushed his way to the front. Over his doublet this gentleman wore a somewhat frayed, but embroidered, cloak; his broad hat was fringed with gold that had lost its l.u.s.ter; his countenance, deeply burned, seemed that of an old campaigner. He regarded the fool courteously, yet haughtily.

"Your sword, sir!" he commanded, in the tone of one accustomed to being obeyed.

"To whom should I give it?" asked the duke's jester.

"To the Vicomte de Gruise, commandant of the town. I have a writ for your arrest as a heretic."

"Who has lodged this information against me?"

"Triboulet. That is, he procured the duke's signature to the writ."

"And you think the duke a party to this farce, my Lord?" said the fool, with a.s.sumed composure. "It has not occurred to you that before the day is over all the village will be laughing at the spectacle of their commandant--pardon me--being led by the nose by a jester?"

The officer's sun-burned face became yet redder; he frowned, then glanced suspiciously at Triboulet, whose reputation was France-wide.

"This man was the duke's fool," screamed the dwarf, "and was imprisoned by order of the king. His companion who is here with him was formerly jestress to the princess. She is a sorceress and bewitched the monarch. Then her fancy seized upon the heretic, and, by her dark art, she opened the door of the cell for him. Together they fled; she from the court, he from prison."

The commandant looked curiously from the hunchback to the accused. If this were acting, the dwarf was indeed a master of the art.

"Besides, his haste to leave the village," eagerly went on Triboulet.

"Why was he dressed at this hour? Ask the landlord if he did not seem unduly hurried?"

At this appeal the innkeeper, who had been an interested spectator, now became a not unwilling witness.

"It is true he seemed hurried," he answered. "When he first came down he ordered breakfast. I happened to mention the duke was at the chateau, whereupon he lost his appet.i.te with suspicious suddenness, called for his horses, and was for riding off with all haste."

From the commandant's expression this testimony apparently removed any doubts he may have entertained. Above the heads of the troopers ma.s.sed in the doorway the duke's _plaisant_ saw Jacqueline, standing on the stairs, with wide-open, dark eyes fastened upon him. Involuntarily he lifted his hand to his heart; across the brief s.p.a.ce glance melted into glance.

Persecuted Calvin maid--had not her fate been untoward enough without this new disaster? Had not the king wrought sufficient ill to her and hers in the past? Would she be sent back to the court; the monarch?

For himself he had no thought, but for her, who was n.o.bler even than her birthright. He had been thrice a fool who had not heeded portentous warnings--the sight of Triboulet, the clamor of the troopers--and had failed to flee during the night. As he realized the penalty of his negligence would fall so heavily upon her, a cry of rage burst from the fool's lips and he sprang toward his aggressors. The young girl became yet whiter; a moment she clung to the bal.u.s.ter; then started to descend the stairs. A dozen swords flashed before her eyes.

She drew in her breath sharply, when as if by some magic, the anger faded from the face of the duke's fool; the hand he had raised to his breast fell to his side; his blade remained sheathed.

"Your pardon, my Lord," he said to the commandant. "I have no intention of resisting the authority of the law, but if you will grant me a few moments' private audience in this room, I promise to convince you the Duke of Friedwald never signed that writ."

"Let him convince the council that examines heretics," laughed Triboulet. "I'll warrant they'll make short work of his arguments."

"I will give you my sword, sir," went on the jester. "Afterward, if you are satisfied, you shall return it to me. If you are not, on my word as a man of honor, I will go with you without more ado."

"A Calvinist, a jester, a man of honor!" cried the dwarf.

But narrowly the vicomte regarded the speaker. "_Pardieu_!" he exclaimed gruffly. "Keep your sword! I promise you I can look to my own safety." And in spite of Triboulet's remonstrance, he waved back the troopers and closed the door upon the _plaisant_ and himself.

Outside the dwarf stormed and stamped. "The jester is desperate. It is the n.o.ble count who is a nonny. Open, fool-soldiers!"

This command not being obeyed by the men who guarded the entrance, the dwarf began to abuse them. A considerable interval elapsed; the hunchback, who dared not go into the room himself, compromised by kneeling before the keyhole; at the foot of the stairs stood the girl, her strained gaze fastened upon the door.

"They must be near the window," muttered Triboulet in a disappointed tone, rising. "What can they be about? Surely will he try to kill the commandant."

But even as he spoke the door was suddenly thrown open and the vicomte appeared on the threshold.

"Clear the hall!" he commanded sharply to the surprised soldiers. "If I mistake not," he went on, addressing the duke's jester, "your horses are at the door."

"You are going to let them go?" burst forth Triboulet.

"I trust you and this fair lady"--turning to the wondering girl, who now stood expectantly at the side of the foreign fool--"will not harbor this incident against our hospitality," went on the vicomte, without heeding the dwarf.

"The king will hang you!" exclaimed Triboulet, his face black with disappointment and rage, as he witnessed the _plaisant_ and the jestress leave the tavern together. "Let them go and you must answer to the king. One is a heretic who threw down a cross; the other I charge with being a sorceress."

A terrible arraignment in those days, yet the vicomte was apparently deaf. Hat in hand, he waved them adieu; the steeds sprang forward, past the soldiers, and down the street.

"After them!" cried the dwarf to the troopers, "Dolts! Joltheads!"

Whereupon one of the men, angered at this baiting, reaching out with his iron boot, caught the dwarf such a sharp blow he staggered and fell, striking his head so violently he lay motionless on the walk. At the same time, far above, a body of troopers might have been seen issuing from the gates of the chateau and leisurely wending their way downward.

CHAPTER XXIV

AN ENCOUNTER AT THE BRIDGE

Some part of the interview with the commandant which had resulted in their release the jester told his companion as they sped down the sloping plain in the early silvery light which transformed the dew-drops and gra.s.sy moisture into veils of mist. Behind them the chateau was slowly fading from view; the town had already disappeared.

Around them the singing of the birds, the cooing of the cushat doves and the buzzing of the bees, mingled in dreamy cadence. On each side stretched the plain which, washed by recent heavy rains, was now spangled with new-grown flowers; here, far apart in sequestered beauty; there, cl.u.s.tering companionably in a ma.s.s of color.

"Upon the strength of the letter from the emperor, the vicomte took the responsibility of allowing us to depart," explained the fool. "In it his Majesty referred to his message to the king, to the part played by him who took the place of the duke, and what he was pleased to term my services to Francis and himself."

So much the _plaisant_ related, but he did not add that the commandant, with Triboulet's words in mind, had at first demurred about permitting the jestress to go. "_Vrai Dieu_!" that person had exclaimed. "If what the dwarf said be true? To cross the king!--and yet," he had added cynically, "it sounds most unlike. Did Aladdin flee from the genii of the lamp? Such a magician is Francis. Chateaux, gardens--'tis clearly an invention of Triboulet's!" And the fallacy of this conclusion the duke's _plaisant_ had not sought to demonstrate.

Without question, the young girl listened, but when he had finished her features hardened. Intuitively she divined a gap in the narrative; herself! From the dwarf's slur to Caillette's gentle look of surprise const.i.tuted a natural span for reflection. And the duke's fool, seeing her face turn cold, attributed it, perhaps, to another reason. Her story recurred to him; she was no longer a nameless jestress; an immeasurable distance separated a mere _plaisant_ from the survivor of one of the n.o.blest, if most unfortunate, families of France. She had not answered the night before when he had addressed her as the daughter of the constable; motionless as a statue had she gazed after him; and, remembering the manner of their parting, he now looked at her curiously.

"All's well that ends well," he said, "but I must crave indulgence, Lady Jacqueline, for having brought you into such peril."

She flushed. "Do you persist in that foolishness?" she returned quickly.

"Do you deny the right to be so called?"

"Did I not tell you--the constable's daughter is dead?"