And conducting her to a seat, he raised her jeweled fingers perfunctorily to his lips, and, wheeling abruptly, left her.
"Ah!" thought Triboulet, ominously, who had been closely observing them, "the king is much displeased."
Had the d.u.c.h.ess observed the monarch"s lack of warmth? At any rate, somewhat perplexedly she regarded the departing figure of the king; then humming lightly, turned to a mirror to adjust a ringlet which had fallen from the golden net binding her tresses.
"_Mere de Dieu_! woman never held man--or king--by sighing," she thought, and laughed, remembering the Countess of Chateaubriant; a veritable Niobe when the monarch had sent her home.
But Triboulet drew a wry face; his little heart was beating tremulously; dark shadows crossed his mind. Two portentous stars had appeared in the horoscope of his destiny: he who had been the foreign fool; she who was the daughter of the constable. Almost fiercely the hunchback surveyed the beautiful woman before him. With her downfall would come his own, and he believed the king had wearied of her. How hateful was her fair face to him at that moment! Already in imagination he experienced the bitterness of the fall from his high estates, and shudderingly looked back to his own lowly beginning: a beggarly street-player of bagpipes; ragged, wretched, importuning pa.s.sers-by for coppers; reviled by every urchin. But she, meeting his glance and reading his thought, only clapped her hands recklessly.
"How unhappy you look," she said.
"Madam, do you think the duke--" he began.
"I think he will cut off your head," she exclaimed, and Triboulet turned yellow; but a few moments later took heart, the d.u.c.h.ess was so lightsome.
"By my sword--if I had one--our jestress has made a triumphant return,"
commented Caillette as he stood with the Duke of Friedwald near one of the windows, surveying the animated scene. "Already are some of the ladies jealous as Barbary pigeons. Her appearance has been remarked by the Duc de Montrin and other gentlemen in attendance, and--look! Now the great De Guise approaches her. Here one belongs to everybody."
The other did not answer and Caillette glanced quickly at him. "You will not think me over-bold," he went on, after a moment"s hesitation, "if I mention what is being whispered--by them?" including in a look and the uplifting of his eyebrows the entire court. The duke laid his hand warmly on the shoulder of the poet-fool. "Is there not that between us which precludes the question?"
"I should not venture to speak about it," continued Caillette, meeting the duke"s gaze frankly, "but that you once honored me with your confidence. That I was much puzzled when I met you and--our erstwhile jestress--matters not. "Twas for me to dismiss my wonderment, and not strive to reconcile my neighbor"s affairs. But when I hear every one talking about my--friend, it is no gossip"s task to come to him with the unburdening of the prattle."
"What are they saying, Caillette?" asked the duke, in his eyes a darker look.
"That you would wed this maid, but that the king will use his friendly offices with Charles to prevent it."
"And do they say why Francis will so use his influence?" continued the other.
"Because of the claim such a union might give an alien house to a vast estate in France; the confiscated property of the Constable of Dubrois.
And--but the other reason is but babble, malice--what you will." And Caillette"s manner quickly changed from grave to frivolous. "Now, _au revoir_; I"m off to Fools" hall," he concluded. "Whenever it becomes dull for you, seek some of your old comrades there." And laughing, Caillette disappeared.
Thoughtfully the duke continued to observe the jestress. Between them whirled the votaries of pleasure; before him swept the fragrance of delicate perfumes; in his ears sounded the subtile enticement of soft laughter. Her face wore a proud, self-reliant expression; her eyes that look which had made her seem so illusive from the inception of their acquaintance. And now, since his ident.i.ty had been revealed, she had seemed more puzzling to him than ever. When he had sought her glance, her look had told him nothing. It was as though with the doffing of the motley she had discarded its recollections. In a tentative mood, he had striven to fathom her, but found himself at a loss. She had been neither reserved, nor had she avoided him; to her the past seemed a page, lightly read and turned. Had Caillette truly said "now she belonged to the world"?
Stepping upon one of the balconies overlooking the valley, the duke gazed out over the tranquil face of nature, his figure drawn aside from the flood of light within. Between heaven and earth, the chateau reared its stately pile, and far downward those twinkling flashes represented the town; yonder faint line, like a dark thread, the encircling wall. Above the gate shone a glimmer from the narrow cas.e.m.e.nt of some officer"s quarters; and the jester"s misgivings when they had ridden beneath the portcullis into the town for the first time, recurred to him; also, the glad haste with which they had sped away.
Memories of dangers, of the free and untrammeled character of their wandering, that day-to-day intimacy, and night-to-night consciousness of her presence haunted him. Her loyalty, her fine sense of comradeship, her inherent tenderness, had been revealed to him. Still he seemed to feel himself the jester, in the gathering of fools, and she a _ministralissa_, with dark, deep eyes that baffled him.
The sound of voices near the window aroused him from this field of speculation, voices that abruptly riveted his attention and held it: the king"s and Jacqueline"s.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE FAVORITE IS REa.s.sURED
The young man"s brow drew dark; tumultuous thoughts filled his brain; Caillette"s words, Brusquet"s rhymes, confirming his own conviction, rankled in his mind. This king dared arrogate a law absolute unto himself; its statutes, his own caprices; its canons, his own pretensions? The duke remembered the young girl"s outburst against the monarch and a feeling of hatred arose in his breast; his hand involuntarily sought his sword, the blade of Francis" implacable enemy.
"We have heard your story, my child, from our brother, the emperor,"
the king was saying, "and although your father rebelled against his monarch, we harbor it not against the daughter."
"Sire," she answered, in a low tone, "I regret the emperor should have acquainted you with this matter."
"You have no cause for fear," Francis replied, misinterpreting her words. She offered no response, and the duke, moving into the light, observed the king was regarding the young girl intently, his tall figure conspicuous above the courtiers.
Flushed, Jacqueline looked down; the white-robed form, however, very straight and erect; her hair, untrammeled with the extreme conventions of the day; a single flower a spot of color amid its abundance. Even the d.u.c.h.ess--bejeweled, bedecked, tricked out--in her own mind had p.r.o.nounced the young girl beautiful, and there surely was no mistaking the covert admiration of the monarch as his glance encompa.s.sed her.
Despite her a.s.sumed composure, it was obvious to the duke, however, that only by a strong effort had she nerved herself to that evening"s task; the red hue on her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, told of the suppressed excitement her manner failed to betray.
"Why should you leave with Charles?" continued Francis. "Perhaps were we over-hasty in confiscating the castle of the constable. _Vrai Dieu_," he added, meditatively. "Had he unbent but a little!
Marguerite told us we were driving him to despair, but the queen regent and the rest of our counselors prevailed--" He broke off abruptly and directed a bolder gaze to hers. "May not a monarch, Mademoiselle, undo what he has done?"
"Even a king can not give life to the dead," she replied, and her voice sounded hard and unyielding.
"No," he a.s.sented, moodily, "but it would not be impossible to restore the castle--to his daughter."
"Sire!" she exclaimed in surprise; then shook her head. "With your Majesty"s permission, I shall leave with the emperor."
Francis made an impatient movement; her inflexibility recalled one who long ago had renounced his fealty to the throne; her resistance kindled the flame that had been smoldering in his breast.
"But if I have pointed out to the emperor that your proper station is here?" he went on. "If he recognizes that it would be to your disadvantage to divert that destiny which lies in France?"
His words were measured; his manner tinged with seeming paternal interest; but, as through a mask, she discerned his face, cynical, libidinous, the countenance of a Sybarite, not a king. The air became stifling; the ribaldry of laughter enveloped her; instinctively she glanced around, and her restless, troubled gaze fell upon the duke.
What was it he read in her eyes? A confession of insecurity, fear; a mute appeal? Before it all his doubts and misgivings vanished; the look they exchanged was like that when she had stood on the staircase in the inn.
Upon the monarch, engrossed in his purpose, it was lost. If silence give consent, then had she already acquiesced in a wish which, from a king, became a demand. But Francis, ever complaisant, with an inconsistent chivalry worthy of the subterfuge of his character, desired to appear forbearing, indulgent.
"For your own sake," he added, "must we refuse that permission you ask of us."
She did not answer, and, noting the direction of her gaze, the eager expectancy written on her face, Francis turned sharply. At the same time the duke stepped forward.
The benignity faded from the king"s manner; his countenance, which "at no time would have made a man"s fortune," became rancorous, caustic; the corners of his mouth appeared almost updrawn to his nostrils. He had little reason to care for the duke, and this interruption, so flagrant, menacing almost, did not tend to enhance his regard. In nowise daunted, the young man stood before him.
"I trust, Sire, your Majesty will reconsider your decision?"
With a strained look the young girl regarded them. To what new dangers had she summoned him? Was not she, the duke, even the emperor himself, in the power of the king, for the present at least? And knowing well Francis" headstrong pa.s.sions, his violence when crossed, it was not strange at that moment her heart sank; she felt on the brink of an abyss; a nameless peril toward which she had drawn the companion of her flight. It seemed an endless interval before the monarch spoke.
"Ah, you heard!" remarked Francis at length, satirically.
"Inadvertently, Sire," answered the duke. His voice was steady, his face pale, but in his blue eyes a glint as of fire came and went.
Self-a.s.surance marked his bearing; dignity, pride. He looked not at the young girl, but calmly met the scrutiny of the king. The latter surveyed him from head to foot; then suddenly stared hard at a sword whose hilt gleamed even brighter than his own, and was fashioned in a form that recalled not imperfectly a hazard of other days.
[Ill.u.s.tration: He looked not at the young girl, but calmly met the scrutiny of the king.]
"Where did you get that blade?" he asked, abruptly.
"From the daughter of the Constable of Dubrois."