Under the Rose Part 34

"Sing, master," he said.

"_Diable_, thou art an insatiable monster!" grumbled the troubadour.

"Insatiable," smilingly repeated the strange being.

"If you went also, _ma douce miette_!

The joys of heaven I'd forego To have you with me there below,'-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette."

softly sang the troubadour.

Over the gathering a marked constraint appeared to fall. More soberly the men shook their dice; the scamp-student took up his book, but even Horace seemed not to absorb his undivided attention; a mountebank attempted several tricks, but failed to amuse his spectators. The candles, burning low, began to drip, and the servant silently replaced them. Beneath lowering brows the master of the boar moodily regarded the young girl, whose face seemed cold and disdainful in the flickering light. The _plaisant_ addressed a remark to her, but she did not answer, and silently he watched the shadow on the floor, of the chandelier swinging to and fro, like a waving sword.

"Will you have something more, good fool?" said the insinuating and unexpected voice of the host at the _plaisant's_ elbow.

"Nothing."

"You were right not to draw," continued the boniface with a sharp look.

"What could a jester do with the blade? I'll warrant you do not know how to use it?"

"Nay," answered the fool; "I know how to use it not--and save my neck."

Mine host nodded approvingly. "Ha! a merry fellow," he said. "Come; drink again. 'Twill make you sleep."

"I have better medicine than that," retorted the jester, and yawned.

"Ah, weariness. I'll warrant you'll rest like a log," he added, as he moved away.

At that some one who had been listening laughed, but the fool did not look up. A great clock began to strike with harsh clangor and Jacqueline suddenly arose. At the same time the minstrel, stretching his arms, strolled to the door and out into the open air.

"Good-night, mistress," said the harsh voice of the master of the boar, as his glittering eyes dwelt upon her graceful figure.

The girl responded coldly, and, amid a hush from the company, made her way to the stairs, which she slowly mounted, preceded by the lad who had waited upon them, and followed by the jester.

"A craven fellow for so trim a maid," continued he of the boar, as they disappeared. "She has eyes like friar's lanterns. What a decoy she'd make for the lords in Paris!"

"Yes," a.s.sented the landlord, "a pitfall to pill 'em and poll 'em."

At the end of the pa.s.sage the guide of jestress and fool paused before a door. "Your room, mistress," he said. "And yonder is yours, Master Jester." Then placing the candle on a stand and vouchsafing no further words, he shuffled off in the darkness, leaving the two standing there.

"Lock your door this night, Jacqueline," whispered the fool.

"You submit over-easily to an affront," was her scornful retort, turning upon the jester.

"Perhaps," he replied, phlegmatically. "Yet forget not the bolt."

"It were more protection than you are apt to prove," she answered, and, quickly entering the room closed hard the door.

A moment he stood in indecision; then rapped lightly.

"Jacqueline," he said, in a low voice.

There was no answer.

"Jacqueline!"

The bolt shot sharply into place, fastening the door. No other response would she make, and the jester, after waiting in vain for her to speak, turned and made his way to his own chamber, adjoining hers.

Weary as the young girl was, she did not retire at once, but going to the window, threw wide open the blinds. Bright shone the moon, and, leaning forth, she gazed upon clearing and forest sleeping beneath the soft glamour. A beautiful, yet desolate scene, with not a living object visible--yes, one, and she suddenly drew back, for there, motionless in the full light, and gazing steadfastly toward her room, stood a figure in whom she recognized the Spanish troubadour.

CHAPTER XX

AN UNEQUAL CONFLICT

Surveying his room carefully in the dim light of a candle, the fool discovered he stood in a small apartment, with a single window, whose barren furnis.h.i.+ngs consisted of a narrow couch, a chair and a ma.s.sive wardrobe. Unlike the chamber a.s.signed to Jacqueline, the door was without key or bolt; a significant fact to the jester, in view of the warning he had received. Nor was it possible to move wardrobe or bed, the first being too heavy and the last being screwed to the floor, had the occupant desired to barricade himself from the antic.i.p.ated danger without. A number of suspicious stains enhanced the gruesome character of the room, and as these appeared to lead to the wardrobe, the jester carried his investigation to a more careful survey of that imposing piece of furniture. Opening the door, although he could not find the secret of the mechanism, the fool concluded that the floor of this ponderous wooden receptacle was a trap through which the body of the victim could be secretly lowered.

This brief exploration of his surroundings occupied but a few moments, and then, after blowing out the candle and heaping the clothes together on the bed into some resemblance of a human figure lying there, the jester drew his sword and softly crept down the pa.s.sage toward the stairs, at the head of which he paused and listened. He could hear the voices and see the shadows of the men below, and, with beating heart, descended a few steps that he might catch what they were saying.

Crouching against the wall, with bated breath, he heard first the landlord's tones.

"Well, rogues, what say you to another sack of wine?" asked the host, cheerily.

"It will serve--while we wait," ominously answered the master of the boar.

"Haven't we waited long enough?" said an impatient voice.

"Tut! tut! young blood," growled another, reprovingly. "Would you disturb him at his prayers?"

"The landlord is right," spoke up the leader. "We have the night before us. Bring the wine."

In stentorian tones the host called the serving-man, and soon from the clinking of cups, the clearing of throats, and the exclamations of satisfaction, foully expressed, the listening jester knew that the skin had been circulated and the tankards filled. One man even began to sing again an equivocal song, but was stopped by a warning imprecation to which he ill-naturedly responded with a half-defiant curse.

"Knaves! knaves!" cried the reproachful voice of the landlord. "Can you not drink together like honest men?"

This mild expostulation of the host seemed not without its effect, for the impending quarrel pa.s.sed harmlessly away.

"Where, think you, he got the sword?" asked one of the gathering, reverting to the enterprise in hand.

"Stole it, most likely," replied the leader. "It is booty from the palace."

"And therefore is doubly fair spoils," laughed another.

"Remember, rogues," interrupted the host, "one-third is my allotted portion. Else we fall out."

"Art so solicitous, thou corpulent scrimp!" grumbled he of the boar.

"Have you not always had the hulking share? Pa.s.s the wine!"

"Foul names break no bones," laughed the host. "You were always a churlish, ungentle knave. There's the wine, an it's not better than your temper, beshrew me for the enemy of true hospitality. But to show I am none such, here's something to sup withal; prime head of calf.