Under the Rose Part 25

"I see, Madam, that you have your mind made up to refuse me, and therefore--"

"Refuse," repeated the favorite, surveying this unique pet.i.tioner with rising amus.e.m.e.nt. "How do you read my mind so well?"

"Then you haven't determined to refuse me?" And he stepped toward her quickly.

"No, I haven't," she answered, throwing back her head, like a spoiled child. "On the contrary, I will be your messenger, your advocate, and will plead your cause, and will win your case, and the king shall say 'yes,' and you shall have your princess whene'er you list. All this I promise faithfully to do and perform. And now, if you want to leave me so sullenly, go!"

But the free baron dropped awkwardly to his knee, took her little hand in his ma.s.sive one and raised it to his lips. "Madam, you overwhelm me," he murmured.

"That is all very well," she commented, reflectively, "but what about the princess? What will she say when--"

"It shall be my task to persuade her. I am sure she will consent,"

returned the suitor.

"Oh, you're sure of that?" observed the lady. "You have some faith in your own powers of persuasion--in certain quarters!"

"Not in my powers, Madam, but in the princess' amiability."

"Perhaps you have spoken to her already?" asked the countess.

"No, Madam; without your a.s.sistance, of what use would be her willingness?"

"What a responsibility you place on my weak shoulders!" cried the other. "However, I will not s.h.i.+ft the burden. I will go to his Majesty at once. And do you"--gaily--"go to the princess."

"At your command!" he replied, and took his departure.

Without the inclosure of the chateau gardens, the free baron began to review the events of the morning with complacency and satisfaction, but, as he took up the threads of his case and examined them more narrowly, his peace of mind was darkened with the shadow of a new disquietude. What if Francis, less easily cozened than the countess, should find his suspicions aroused? What if the princess, who had immediately dismissed the fool's denouncement of the free baron as an ebullition of blind jealousy--after informing her betrothed of the mad accusation--should see in his request equivocal circ.u.mstances? Or, was the countess--like many of her sisters--given to second thoughts, and would this after-reverie dampen the ardor of her impetuous promise?

"But," thought the king's guest, banis.h.i.+ng these a.s.sailing doubts, "there never yet was victory a.s.sured before the battle had been fought, and, with renewed precautions, defeat is most unlikely."

By the time he had reached this conclusion he had arrived at the princess' door.

CHAPTER XV

A NEW DISCOVERY

The dim rays of a candle glimmered within a cubical s.p.a.ce, whereof the sides consisted of four stone walls, and a ceiling and floor of the same substantial material. For furnis.h.i.+ngs were provided a three-legged stool, a bundle of straw and--the tallow dip. One of the walls was pierced by a window, placed almost beyond the range of vision; the outlook limited by day to a bit of blue sky or a patch of verdant field, with the depressing suggestion of a barrier to this outer world, three feet in thickness, ma.s.sively built of stone and mortar, hardened through the centuries. At night these pictures faded and the Egyptian darkness within became partly dispelled through the brave efforts of the small wick; or when this half-light failed, a far star without, struggling in the depths of the palpable obscure, appeared the sole relief.

But now the few inches of candle had only begun to eke out its brief period of transition and the solitary occupant of the cell could for some time find such poor solace as lay in the companions.h.i.+p of the tiny yellow flame. With his arms behind him, the duke's fool moved as best he might to and fro within the narrow confines of his jail; the events which had led to his incarceration were so recent he had hardly yet brought himself to realize their full significance. Neither Francis'

anger nor the free baron's covert satisfaction during the scene following their abrupt appearance in the bower of roses had greatly weighed upon him; but not so the att.i.tude of the princess.

How vividly all the details stood out in his brain! The sudden transitions of her manner; her seeming interest in his pa.s.sionate words; her eyes, friendly, tender, as he had once known them; then portentous silence, frozen disdain. What latent energy in the free baron's look had invested her words with his spirit? Had the adduction of his mind compelled hers to his bidding, or had she but spoken from herself? Into the marble-like pallor of her face a faint flush had seemed to insinuate itself, but the words had dropped easily from her lips: "Are all the fools of your country so presumptuous, my Lord?"

Above the other distinctive features of that tragic night, to the _plaisant_ this question had reiterated itself persistently in the solitude of his cell. True, he had forgotten he was only a jester; but had it not been the memory of her soft glances that had hurried him on to the avowal? She had no fault to be condoned; the fool was the sole culprit. From her height, could she not have spared him the scorn and contempt of her question? Over and over, through the long hours he had asked himself that, and, as he brooded, the idealization with which he had adorned her fell like an enshrouding drapery to the dust; of the vestment of fancy nothing but tatters remained.

A voice without, harsh, abrupt, broke in upon the jester's thoughts.

The prisoner started, listened intently, a gleam of fierce satisfaction momentarily creeping into his eyes. If love was dead, a less exalted feeling still remained.

"How does the fool take his imprisonment?" asked the arrogant voice.

"Quietly, my Lord," was the jailer's reply.

"He is inclined to talk over much?"

"Not at all," answered the man.

A brief command followed; a key was inserted in the lock, and, with a creaking of bolts and groaning of hinges, the warder swung back the iron barrier. Upon the threshold stood the commanding figure of the free baron. A moment he remained thus, and then, with an authoritative gesture to the man, stepped inside. The turnkey withdrew to a discreet distance, where he remained within call, yet beyond the range of ordinary conversation. Immovably the king's guest gazed upon the jester, who, unabashed, calmly endured the scrutiny.

"Well, fool," began the free baron, bluntly, "how like you your quarters? You fought me well; in truth very well. But you labored under a disadvantage, for one thing is certain: a jester in love is doubly--a fool."

"Is that what you have come to say?" asked the plaisant, his bright glance fastened on the other's confident face.

"I came--to return the visit you once made me," easily retorted the master of Hochfels. "By this time you have probably learned I am an opponent to be feared."

"As one fears the a.s.sa.s.sin's knife, or a treacherous onslaught," said the fool.

"Did I not say, when you left that night, the truce was over?" returned the king's guest, frowning.

"True," was the ironical answer. "Forewarned; forearmed. And that sort of warfare was to be expected from the b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Pfalz-Urfeld."

"Well," unreservedly replied the free baron, who for reasons of his own chose not to challenge the affront, "in those two instances you were not worsted. And as for the trooper who attacked you--I know not whether your lance or the doctor's lancet is responsible for his taking off. But you met him with true attaint. You would have made a good soldier. It is to be regretted you did not place your fortune with mine--but it is too late now."

"Yes," answered the _plaisant_, "it is too late."

Louis of Hochfels gave him a sharp look. "You cling yet to some forlorn hope?"

To the fool came the vision of a brother jester speeding southward, ever southward. The free baron smiled.

"Caillette, perhaps?" he suggested. For a moment he enjoyed his triumph, watching the expression of the fool's countenance, whereon he fancied he read dismay and astonishment.

"You know then?" said the _plaisant_ finally.

"That you sent him to the emperor? Yes."

In the fool's countenance, or his manner, the king's guest sought confirmation of the dying trooper's words. Also, was he fencing for such additional information as he might glean, and for this purpose had he come. Had the emperor really gone to Spain? The soldier's a.s.surance had been so faint, sometimes the free baron wondered if he had heard aright, or if he had correctly interpreted the meager message.

"And you--of course--detained Caillette?" remarked the prisoner, with an effort at indifference, his heart beating violently the while.

"No," slowly returned the other. "He got away."

Into his eyes the fool gazed closely, as if to read and test this unexpected statement.

"Got away!" he repeated. "How, since you knew?"

"Because I learned too late," quietly replied the free baron. "He was four-and-twenty hours gone when I found out. Too great a start to be overcome."