"Ay; you will lose much by being a duke instead of a martyr," said Jean.
Count Felix roused himself with a sudden effort. This was not the time for fears or dismal forebodings, and he struck the gong upon his table. He had much to do, many persons to see, many things to arrange; and Jean sat there while all this business was transacted, welcoming and dismissing each person with a little musical shake of his fool"s bauble. Most of them laughed at him, a few were angry, but it made no difference to the dwarf.
Presently the Count rose.
"Play the fool where you will, Jean, until evening; I go to see the Countess Elisabeth, and I will not take you with me."
"Are you jealous?" asked the dwarf.
"No."
"I"ll go and see Christine de Liancourt," said Jean. "I warrant I shall have a hearty welcome. Art jealous now?"
"A little, perhaps."
"She might have liked you as a martyr," chuckled the dwarf. "Oh, I grant you, being a fool has its advantages." And he shook his bauble as the Count pa.s.sed out of the room.
Then Jean seated himself thoughtfully on the corner of the Count"s table, and for a few moments was busy with his seals and wax.
"Since the sentries are doubled, we must take double precaution," he murmured. "Chance is a very useful mistress sometimes, but it does not pay to leave too much to her."
Count Felix went quickly to the suite of rooms Countess Elisabeth occupied for the time being in the castle. He had requested her not to return to the Place Beauvoisin until after he was crowned Duke. He wanted his talisman beside him, he said; and the Countess, perhaps hoping that she would never permanently return to the Place Beauvoisin, remained.
She received him now, as she always did, with a smile of welcome, and he bent over her hand in silence before seating himself beside her.
"I would it were well over, Elisabeth."
"To-morrow at this time it will be," she answered.
"Had I dared to do so, I would have altered the ceremony," he went on; "I would have curtailed some of these absurd customs, and made my coronation far more simple and direct. It should have been swiftly done, and I would have had the reins firmly in my hands before any had time to question me."
"Who can question you?"
"I fear even the voice of one starveling about the court, or even of some soldier who mayhap has begun his revelling too early."
"Your fears are groundless, Felix."
"Are they?" And he held out his bound-up hand to her.
"That was but the stroke of a lover mad with jealousy," Elisabeth answered. "When I sent you to Christine that night I little thought you would find her lover there."
"Who is this lover?"
"Indeed, I cannot tell; but being a woman I read another woman easily.
As I told you, I thought she loved this Captain Lemasle; in that I was mistaken, but I was not at fault when I said she was in love. That you must know now."
Felix was silent. A lover of Christine"s this sham priest might well be, but he was something more--he was the man who knew his secret.
This he could not tell to the Countess without betraying himself.
"Would you still marry her, Felix?" she asked.
"Only for the good of Montvilliers," he answered.
"She will hate you, Felix, even though she be your wife. They are her own words."
"I must risk even that for the good of Montvilliers."
"Ah, your love is a small thing beside your ambition," she said, turning away from him.
"Your love is the dearest thing I have in life, Elisabeth," he said quickly. "Do not turn from me, even for a moment, in such a time as this. I am like a child stepping in the dark who holds out its hands for guidance and protection. After to-morrow, who can tell what action of mine may be best for Montvilliers? If Christine hates me so much, she may show it now, and give strength to my enemies; she has that power, I cannot rob her of it. Let me once feel that I am firm without her, and then----"
"Well, Felix?"
Her face was raised to his, and he bent and kissed her lips.
"For the present know that I love you," he whispered, "and give me strength for the ordeal through which I have to pa.s.s."
"You ask so much and give so little."
"Wait," he answered. "After to-morrow, I may give all."
"Yours are, indeed, a child"s fears," she said. "Come, tell me them one by one, and like some good nurse I will try and show you how foolish they are."
All his fears he could not tell her, perhaps she recognized that he did not, but many he could talk to her about, and she comforted and strengthened him. All the ghosts that conscience sent to hara.s.s him were powerless to annul the Countess Elisabeth"s work altogether, and it was with firm step and steady eye that presently the Count met his friends and foes.
Meanwhile Jean went about his work, but it did not include a visit to Mademoiselle de Liancourt. He pa.s.sed slowly through the ante-rooms, where men were still waiting.
"The audience is at an end," he said. "We have too much to attend to to-day to see any more of you. The Count is tired; and has gone to rest a little."
"My Lord Misshapen, won"t you attend to us?" said one.
"My unique limbs also require rest; still, what would you have? We know nothing against you."
"A high place at court, to which my love for you ent.i.tles me," said the man.
"What say you to a rope over the great gate?" said Jean. "It is the most prominent place I can think of."
The man"s hand went suddenly to his sword hilt.
"If you draw sword on me," said Jean, tapping him on the arm with his bauble, making the bells jingle, "you are likely to earn your high place rather easily."
The laugh was turned against the man, and the dwarf pa.s.sed on.
"It is very well to jest," mused Jean as he crossed the court-yard, "but I"m likely to hang yonder over the gate myself if anything goes wrong in the next few hours."
He entered a low doorway, and going slowly along a dark pa.s.sage, was challenged at the end of it by a sentry. There were two sentries standing there.
"I have come to see the prisoner."