Under the Rose Part 19

And with this poor a.s.surance the dwarf had been obliged to content himself--not merrily, 'tis true, but with much inward disquietude, secretly execrating his monarch for this revival of ancient and barbarous practices.

Now, in the rear of the jesters' pavilion, his face was yellow with trepidation, as the armorer buckled on the iron plates about his stunted figure, fastening and riveting them in such manner, he mentally concluded he should never emerge from that frightful sh.e.l.l.

"The worst of it is," dryly remarked the hunchback's valet as he briskly plied his little hammer, "these clothes are so heavy you couldn't run away if you wanted to."

"Oh, that the duke were married and out of the kingdom!" Triboulet fervently wished, and the fiery comments of Marot, Villot and those other reckless spirits, who seemed to mind no more the prospect of being spitted on a lance than if it were but a novel and not unpleasant experience to look forward to, in no wise served to a.s.suage his heart-sinking.

At the entrance of the pavilion stood Caillette, who had watched the pa.s.sing of _Bon Vouloir_ and now was gazing upward into a sea of faces from whence came a hum of voices like the buzzing of unnumbered bees.

"Certes," he commented, "the king makes much of this unmannered, lumpish, beer-drinking n.o.ble who is going to wed the princess."

"Caillette," said the low voice of the duke's jester at his elbow, "would you see a woman undone?"

"Why, _mon ami_!" lightly answered the French fool, "I've seen many undone--by themselves."

"Ah," returned the other, "I appeal to your chivalry, and you answer with a jest."

"How else," asked Caillette, with a peculiar smile that was at once sweet and mournful, "can one take woman, save as a jest--a pleasant mockery?"

"Your irony precludes the test of friends.h.i.+p--the service I was about to ask of you," retorted the duke's fool, gravely.

"Test of friends.h.i.+p!" exclaimed the poet. "'Tis the only thing I believe in. Love! What is it? A flame! a breath! Look out there--at the flatterers and royal sycophants. Those are your emissaries of love. Ye G.o.ds! into the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of what jack-a-dandies and parasites has descended the unquenchable fire of Jove! Now as for comrades.h.i.+p"--placing his hand affectionately on the other's shoulder--"by Castor and Pollux, and all the other inseparables, 'tis another thing. But expound this strange anomaly--a woman wronged. Who is the woman?"

"The Princess Louise!"

Caillette glanced from the place where he stood to the center of the stand and the white bower, inclining from which was a woman, haughty, fair, beautiful; one whose face attracted the attention of the mult.i.tude and who seemed not unhappy in being thus scrutinized and admired. Shaking his head slowly, the court poet dropped his eyes and studied the sand at his feet.

"She looks not wronged," he said, dryly. "She appears to enjoy her triumphs."

"And yet, Caillette, 'tis all a farce," answered the duke's jester.

"So have I--thought--on other occasions."

And again his gaze flew upward, not, however, to the lady whom Francis had gallantly chosen for Queen of Beauty, but, despite his alleged cynicism, to a corner of the king's own box, where sat she who had once been a laughing maid by his side and with whom he had played that diverting pastoral, called "First Love." It was only an instant's return into the farcical but joyous past, and a moment later he was sharply recalled into the arid present by the words of his companion.

"The man the Princess Louise is going to marry is no more Robert, the Duke of Friedwald, than you are!" exclaimed the foreign fool. "He is the b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Pfalz-Urfeld, the so-called free baron of Hochfels. His castle commands the road between the true duke and Francis' domains.

He made himself master of all the correspondence, conceived the plan to come here himself and intends to carry off the true lord's bride.

Indeed, in private, he has acknowledged it all to me, and, failing to corrupt me to his service, last night set an a.s.sa.s.sin to kill me."

His listener, with folded arms and attentive mien, kept his eyes fixed steadily upon the narrator, as if he doubted the evidence of his senses. Without, the marshals had taken their places in the lists and another stentorian dissonance greeted these officers of the field from the good-humored gathering, which, basking in the antic.i.p.ation of the feast they knew would follow the pageantry, clapped their hands and flung up their caps at the least provocation for rejoicing. Upon the two jesters this scene of jubilation was lost, Caillette merely bending closer to the other, with:

"But why have you not denounced him to the king?"

"Because of my foolhardiness in tacitly accepting at first this free-booter as my master."

Caillette shot a keen glance at the other and smiled. His eyes said: "Foolhardiness! Was it not, rather, some other emotion? Had not the princess leaned more than graciously toward her betrothed and--"

"I thought him but some flimsy adventurer," went on the duke's fool, hastily, "and told myself I would see the play played out, holding the key to the situation, and--"

"You underestimated him?"

"Exactly. His plans were cunningly laid, and now--who am I that the king should listen to me? At best, if I denounce him, they would probably consider it a bit of pleasantry, or--madness."

"Yes," reluctantly a.s.sented Caillette, Triboulet's words, "a fool in love with the princess!" recurring to him; "it would be undoubtedly even as you say."

The duke's jester looked down thoughtfully. He had only half-expressed to the French _plaisant_ the doubts which had a.s.sailed him since his interview with Louis of Hochfels. Who could read the minds of monarchs? The motives actuating them? Should he be able to convince Francis of the deception practised upon him, was it altogether unlikely that the king might not be brought to condone the offense for the sake of an alliance with this b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Pfalz-Urfeld and the other unconquerable free barons of the Austrian border against Charles himself? Had not Francis in the past, albeit openly friendly with the emperor, secretly courted the favor of the powerful German n.o.bles in Charles' own country? Had not his covenant with the infidel, Solyman, been a covert attempt to undermine the emperor's power?

From the day when, as young men, both had been aspirants for the imperial throne of Germany and Francis had suffered defeat, the latter had a.s.siduously devoted himself to the retributory task of gaining the ascendancy over his successful rival. And now, although the tempering years had a.s.suaged their erstwhile pa.s.sions and each had professed to eschew war and its violence, might not this temptation prove too great for Francis to resist a last blow at the emperor's prestige? How easy to affect disbelief of a fool, to overthrow the fabric of friends.h.i.+p between Charles and himself, and at the same time apparently not violate good faith or conscience!

The voice of Caillette broke in upon his thoughts.

"You will not then attempt to denounce him?"

The fool hesitated. "Alone--out of favor with the king, I like not to risk the outcome--but--if I may depend upon you--"

"Did ever friend refuse such a call?" exclaimed Caillette, promptly. A quick glance of grat.i.tude flashed from the other's eyes.

"There is one flaw in the free baron's position," resumed the duke's fool, more confidently; "a fatal one 'twill prove, if it is possible to carry out my plans. He thinks the emperor is in Austria, and his followers guard the road through the mountains. He tells himself not only are the emperor and the Duke of Friedwald too far distant to hear of the pretender and interfere with the nuptials, but that he obviates even the contingency of their learning of that matter at all by controlling the way through which the messengers must go. Thus rests he in double security--but an imaginary one."

"What mean you?" asked Caillette, attentively, from his manner giving fuller credence to the extraordinary news he had just learned.

"That Charles, the emperor, is not in Austria, but in Aragon at Saragossa, where he can be reached in time to prevent the marriage.

Just before my leaving, the emperor, to my certain knowledge, secretly departed for Spain on matters pertaining to the governing of Aragon.

Charles plays a deep game in the affairs of Europe, though he works ever silently and un.o.btrusively. Is he not always beforehand with your king? When Francis was preparing the gorgeous field of the cloth of gold for his English brother, did not Charles quietly leave for the little isle, and there, without beat of drum, arrange his own affairs before Henry was even seen by your pleasure-loving monarch? Yes; to the impostor and to Francis, Charles is in Austria; to us--for now you share my secret--is he in Spain, where by swift riding he may be found, and yet interdict in this matter."

"Then why--haven't you ere this fled to the emperor with the news?"

"Last night I had determined to get away, when first I was a.s.saulted by an a.s.sa.s.sin of the impostor, and next detained by his troop and brought back to the castle. I had even left on foot, trusting to excite less suspicion, and hoping to find a horse on the way, but fortune was with the pretender. So here am I, closely watched--and waiting," he added grimly.

The listener's demeanor was imperturbability itself. He knew why the other had taken him into his confidence, and understood the silent appeal as plainly as though words had uttered it. Perhaps he duly weighed the perils of a flight without permission from the court of the exacting and capricious monarch, and considered the hazards of the trip itself through a wild and brigand-infested country. Possibly, the thought of the princess moved him, for despite his irony, it was his mocking fate to entertain in his breast, against his will, a covert sympathy for the gentler s.e.x; or, looking into the pa.s.sionate face of his companion, he may have been conscious of some bond of brotherhood, a fellow-feeling that could not resist the call upon his good-will and amicable efforts. The indifference faded from Caillette's face and almost a boyish enthusiasm shone in his eyes.

"_Mon ami_, I'll do it!" he exclaimed, lightly. "I'll ride to the emperor for you."

Silently the jester of the duke wrung his hand. "I've long sighed for an adventure," laughed Caillette. "And here is the opportunity.

Caillette, a knight-errant! But"--his face falling--"the emperor will look on me as a madman."

"Nay," replied the duke's _plaisant_, "here is a letter. When he reads it he will, at least, think the affair worth consideration. He knows me, and trusts my fidelity, and will be a.s.sured I would not jest on such a serious matter. Believe me, he will receive you as more than a madman."

"Why, then, 'twill be a rare adventure," commented the other.

"Wandering in the country; the beautiful country, where I was reared; away from the madness of courts. Already I hear the wanton breezes sighing in Sapphic softness and the forests' elegiac murmur. Tell me, how shall I ride?"

"As a knight to the border; thence onward as a minstrel. In Spain there's always a welcome for a blithe singer."

"'Tis fortunate I learned some Spanish love songs from a fair senora who was in Charles' retinue the time he visited Francis," added Caillette. "An I should fail?" he continued, more gravely.

"You will not fail," was the confident reply.

"I am of your mind, but things will happen--sometimes--and why do you not speak to the princess herself--to warn her--"