But his splendid self-control and audacity revealed to the courtly a.s.semblage no trace of what was pa.s.sing in his mind. He walked by the king"s side as one not unaccustomed to such exalted company, nor overwhelmed by sudden honors. His courage was superb; his demeanor that of one born to command; in him seemed exemplified a type of brute strength and force denoting a leader--whether of an army or a band of swashbucklers. As the monarch and the free baron drew near, the princess slowly, gracefully arose, while now grouped around the throne stood the heralds and pursuivants of the lists. In her hand Louise held the gift, covered with a silver veil, an end of which was carried by each of the maids.
"Fair Lady of the Tournament," said the king, "this gallant knight is _Bon Vouloir_, whom you have even heard proclaimed the victor of the day."
"Approach, _Bon Vouloir_!" commanded the Queen of Love.
The maids uncovered the gift, the customary chaplet of beaten gold, and, as the free baron bowed his head, the princess with a firm hand fulfilled the functions of her office. Rising, _Bon Vouloir_, amid the exclamations of the court, claimed the privilege that went with the bauble. A moment he looked at the princess; she seemed to bend beneath his regard; then leaning forward, deliberately rather than ardently, he touched her cheek with his lips. Those who watched the Queen of Love closely observed her face become paler and her form tremble; but in a moment she was again mistress of herself, her features prouder and colder than before.
"Did you notice how he melted the ice of her nature?" whispered Diane, with a malicious little laugh, to the countess.
"And yet "twas not his--warmth that did it," wisely answered the favorite of the king.
"His coldness, then," laughed the other, as the musicians began to play, and the winner of the chaplet led the princess to the dance. "Is it not so, Sire?" she added, turning to the king, who at that moment approached.
"He, indeed, forgot a part of the ceremony," graciously a.s.sented Francis.
"A part of the ceremony, your Majesty?" questioned Diane.
"To kiss the two damsels of the princess; and one of them was worthy of casual courtesy," he added, musingly.
"Which, Sire?" asked the countess, quickly.
"The dark-browed maid," returned the monarch, thoughtfully. "Where did I notice her last?"
And then he remembered. It was she who, he suspected, had laughed that night in Fools" hall. Recalling the circ.u.mstance, the king looked around for her, but she had drawn back.
"Is it your pleasure to open the festivities, Sire?" murmured the favorite, and, without further words, Francis acquiesced, proffering his arm to his companion.
Masque, costume ball, ballet, it was all one to the king and the court, who never wearied of the diverting vagaries of the dance. Now studying that pantomimic group of merrymakers, in the rhythmical expression of action and movement could almost be read the influence and relative positions of the fair revelers. The countess, airy and vivacious, perched, as it were, lightly yet securely on the arm of the throne; Diane, fearless, confident of the future through the dauphin; Catharine, proud of her rank, undisturbed in her own exalted place as wife of the dauphin; Marguerite, mixture of saint and sinner, a soft heart that would oft-times turn the king from a hard purpose.
"There! I"ve danced enough," said a panting voice, and Jacqueline, breathless, paused before the duke"s fool, who stood a motionless spectator of the revelry. In his rich costume of blue and white, the figure of the foreign jester presented a fair and striking appearance, but his face, proud and composed, was wanting in that spirit which animated the features of his fellows in motley.
"One more turn, fair Jacqueline?" suggested Marot, her partner in the dance.
"Not one!" she answered.
"Is that a dismissal?" he asked, lightly.
""Tis for you to determine," retorted the maid.
"Modesty forbids I should interpret it to my desires," he returned, laughing, as he disappeared.
Tall, seeming straighter than usual, upon each cheek a festal rose, she stood before the duke"s _plaisant_, inscrutable, as was her fashion, the scarf about her shoulders just stirring from the effects of the dance, and her lips parted to her hurried breathing.
"How did you like the ceremony?" she asked, quietly. "And did you know," she went on, without noticing the dark look in his eyes or awaiting his response, "the lance turned upon you to-day was not a "weapon of courtesy"?"
"You mean it was directed by intention?" he asked indifferently.
"Not only that," she answered. "I mean that the disk had been removed and the point left bare."
"A mistake, of course," he said, with a peculiar smile.
A look of impatience crossed her face, but she gazed at him intently and her eyes held his from the floor where they would have strayed.
"Are you stupid, or do you but profess to be?" she demanded. "Before the tilt I noticed the duke and his trooper talking together. When they separated the latter, un.o.bserved as he thought, struck the point of his weapon against his stirrup. The disk fell to the ground."
"Your glance is sharp, Jacqueline," he retorted, slowly. "Thank you for the information."
Her eyes kindled; an angry retort seemed about to spring from her lips.
It was with difficulty she controlled herself to answer calmly a moment later.
"You mean it can serve you nothing? Perhaps you are right. To-day you were lucky. To-morrow you may be--what? To-day you defended yourself well and it was a good lance you bore. Had it been any other jester, the king would have praised him. Because it was you, no word has been spoken. If anything, your success has annoyed him. Several of the court spoke of it; he answered not; "tis the signal to ignore it, and--you!"
"Then are you courageous to brave public opinion and hold converse with me," he replied, with a smile.
"Public opinion!" she exclaimed with flashing eyes. "What would they say of a jestress? Who is she? What is she?"
She ended abruptly; bit her lips, showing her gleaming white teeth.
Then some emotion, more profound, swept over her expressive face; she looked at him silently, and when she spoke her voice was more gentle.
"I can not believe," she continued thoughtfully, "that the duke told his trooper to do that. "Tis too infamous. The man must have acted on his own responsibility. The duke could not, would not, countenance such baseness."
"You have a good opinion of him, gentle mistress," he said in a tone that exasperated her.
"Who has not?" she retorted, sharply. "He is as brave as he is distinguished. Farewell. If you served him better, and yourself less, you--"
"Would serve myself better in the end?" he interrupted, satirically.
"Thanks, good Jacqueline. A woman makes an excellent counselor."
Disdainfully she smiled; her face grew cold; her figure looked never more erect and inflexible.
"Why," she remarked, "here am I wasting time talking when the music is playing and every one is dancing. Even now I see a courtier approaching who has thrice importuned me." And the jestress vanished in the throng as abruptly as she had appeared.
Thoughtfully the duke"s fool looked, not after her, but toward a far end of the pavilion, where he last had seen the princess and her betrothed.
"Caillette should now be well on his way," he told himself. "No one has yet missed him, or if they do notice his absence they will attribute it to his injuries."
This thought lent him confidence; the implied warnings of the maid pa.s.sed unheeded from his mind; indeed, he had scarcely listened to them. Amid stronger pa.s.sions, he felt the excitement of the subtile game he and the free baron were playing; the blind conviction of a gambler that he should yet win seized him, dissipating in a measure more violent thoughts.
He began to calculate other means to make a.s.surance doubly sure; an intricate realm of speculation, considering the safeguards the boar of Hochfels had placed about himself. To offset the triumphs of the king"s guest there occurred to the jester the comforting afterthought that the greater the other"s successes now the more ignominious would be his downfall. The free baron had not hesitated to use any means to obliterate his one foeman from the scene; and he repeated to himself that he would meet force with cunning, and duplicity with stealth, spinning such a web as lay within his own capacity and resources. But in estimating the moves before him, perhaps in his new-found trust, he overlooked the strongest menace to his success--a hazard couched within himself.
Outspreading from the pavilion"s walls were floral bowers with myriad lights that shone through the leaves and foliage, where tiny fragrant fountains tinkled, or diminutive, fairy-like waterfalls fell amid sweet-smelling plants. Green, purple, orange, red, had been the colors chosen in these dainty retreats for such of the votaries of the Court of Love as should, from time to time, care to exchange the merry-making within for the languorous rest without. It was yet too early, however, for the sprightly devotees to abandon the lively pleasures of the dance, so that when the duke"s fool abstractedly entered the balmy, crimson nook, at first he thought himself alone.
Around him, carmine, blood-warm flowers exhaled a commingling redolence; near him a toy-like fountain whispered very softly and confidentially. Through the foliage the figures moved and moved; on the air the music fell and rose, thin in orchestration, yet brightly penetrating in sparkling detail. Buoyant were the violins; sportive the flutes; all alive the gitterns; blithesome the tripping arpeggios that crisply fell from the strings of the joyous harps.
The rustling of a gown admonished him he was not alone, and, looking around, amid the crimson flowers, to his startled gaze, appeared the face of her of whom he was thinking; above the broad, white brow shone the radiance of hair, a gold that was almost bronze in that dim light; through the green tangle of shrubbery, a silver slipper.
"Ah, it is you, fool?" she said languidly. It may be, he contrasted the indifference of her tones now with the unconscious softness of her voice when she had addressed him on another occasion--in another garden; for his face flushed, and he would have turned abruptly, when--