THE DWARF MAKES AN EARLY CALL
From one of the watch-towers of the town rang the clear note of a
trumpet, a tribute of melody, occasioned by the awakening in the east.
As the last clarion tones reëchoed over the sleeping village, a crimson
rim appeared above the horizon and soon the entire wheel of the chariot
of the sun-god rolled up out of the illimitable abyss and began its
daily race across the sky. The stolid bugler yawned, tucked his
trumpet under his arm, and, having perfunctorily performed the duties
of his office, tramped downward with more alacrity than he had toiled
upward.
About the same time the sleepy guard at the town gate was relieved by
an equally drowsy-appearing trooper; here and there windows were flung
open, and around the well in the small public square the maids began to
congregate. In the tap-room of the tavern the landlord moved about,
setting to rights the tables and chairs, or sprinkling fresh sand on
the floor. The place had a stale, close odor, as though not long since
vacated by an inabstinent company, a supposition further borne out by
the disorder of the furniture, and the evidence the gathering had not
been over-nice about spilling the contents of their toss-pots. The
host had but opened the front door, permitting the fresh, invigorating
air from without to enter, when the duke's _plaisant_, his cloak over
his arm, descended the stairs, and, addressing the landlord, asked when
he and his companion could be provided with breakfast.
"Breakfast!" grumbled the proprietor. "The maids are hardly up and the
fires must yet be started. It will be an hour or more before you can
be served."
The jester appeared somewhat dissatisfied, but contented himself with
requesting the other to set about the meal at once.
"You ride forth early," answered the man, in an aggrieved tone.
The _plaisant_ made no reply as he strode to the door and looked out;
noted sundry signs of awakening life down the narrow street, and then
returned to the tap-room.
"You had a noisy company here last night, landlord?" he vouchsafed,
glancing around the room and recalling the laughter and shouts he had
heard below until a late hour.
"Noisy company!" retorted the innkeeper. "A goodly company that ate
and drank freely. Distinguished company that paid freely. The king's
own guards who are acting as escort to Robert, the Duke of Friedwald,
and his bride, the princess. Noisy company, forsooth."
The young man started. "The king's guards!" he said. "What are they
doing here?"
The other vigorously rubbed the top of a table with a damp cloth.
"Acting as escort to the duke, as I told you," he replied.
"The duke is here, also?"
"Yes; at the château. The princess had become weary of travel;
besides, had sprained her ankle, I heard, and would have it the
cavalcade should tarry a few days. They e'en stopped at my door," he
went on ostentatiously, "and called for a glass of wine for the
princess. 'Tis true she took it with a frown, but the hardships of
journeying do not agree with grand folks."
These last words the jester, absorbed in thought, did not hear. With
his back to the man, he stood gazing through the high window,
apparently across the street. But between the two houses on the other
side of the thoroughfare was a considerable open space, and through
this, far away, on the mount, could be seen the château. The sunlight
shone bright on turret and spire; its walls were white and glistening;
its outlines, graceful and airy as a fabric of imagination.
"And yet it was a handsome cavalcade," continued the proprietor, his
predilection for pomp overcoming his churlishness. "The princess on a
steed with velvet housings, set with precious stones. Her ladies
attired in eastern silks. Behind the men of arms; Francis' troops in
rich armor; the duke's soldiers more simply arrayed. At the head of
the procession rode--"
"Have the horses brought out at once."
Thus brusquely interrupted, the innkeeper stared blankly at his guest,
who had left the window and now stood in the center of the room
confronting him. "And the breakfast?" asked the man.
"I have changed my mind and do not want it," was the curt response.
The host shrugged his shoulders disagreeably, as the plaisant turned
and ascended the stairs. "Unprofitable travelers," muttered the
landlord, following with his gaze the retreating figure.
Hastily making his way to the room of the young girl, the jester
knocked on the door.
"Are you awake, Jacqueline?"
"Yes," answered a voice within.
"We must ride forth as soon as possible. The duke is at the château."
"At the château!" she exclaimed in surprise. Then after a pause: "And
Triboulet saw us. He will tell that you are here. I will come down at
once. Wait," she added, as an afterthought seized her.
He heard her step to the window. "I think the gates of the château are
open," she said. "I am not sure; it is so far."
"Do you see any one on the road leading down?"
"No," came the answer.
"Nor could I. But perhaps they have already passed."
Again the jester returned to the tap-room, where he found the landlord
polishing the pewter tankards.
"The horses?" said the fool sharply.
"The stable boy will bring them to the door," was the response, and the
innkeeper held a pot in the air and leisurely surveyed the shining
surface.
"The reckoning?"
Deliberately the man replaced the receptacle on the table, and,
pressing his thumbs together, began slowly to calculate: "Bottle of
wine, ten sous; capon, twenty sous; two rooms--" when the jester took
from his coat the purse the young girl had given him, and, selecting a
coin, threw it on the board. At the sight of the purse and its golden
contents the countenance of the proprietor mollified; his price
forthwith varied with his changed estimate of his guest's condition.
"Two rooms, fifty sous; fodder, forty sous"--he went on. "That would
make--"
"Keep the coin," said the _plaisant_, "and have the stable boy make
haste."
With new alacrity, the innkeeper thrust the pistole into a leathern
pouch he carried at his girdle. A guest who paid so well could afford
to be eccentric, and if he and the young lady chose to travel without
breakfast, it was obviously not for the purpose of economy. Therefore,
exclaiming something about "a lazy rascal that needed stirring up," the
now interested landlord was about to go to the barn himself, when, with
a loud clattering, a party of horsemen rode up to the tavern; the door
burst open and Triboulet, followed by a tall, rugged-looking man and a
party of troopers, entered the hall.
Swiftly the jester glanced around him; the room had no other door than
that before which the troopers were crowded; he was fairly caught in a
trap. Remorsefully his thoughts flew to the young girl and the trust
she had imposed in him. How had he rewarded that confidence? By a
temerity which made this treachery on the part of the hunchback
possible. Even now before him stood Triboulet, bowing ironically.
"I trust you are well?" jeered the dwarf, and with a light, dancing
step began to survey the other from side to side. "And the lady--is
she also well this morning? How pleased you both were to see me
yesterday!" assuming an insolent, albeit watchful, pose. "So you
believed I had run away from the duke? As if he could get on without
me. What would be a honeymoon without Triboulet! The maids of honor
would die of ennui. One day they trick me out with true-lovers' knots!
the next, give me a Cupid's head for a wand. Leave the duke!" he
repeated, bombastically. "Triboulet could not be so unkind."
"Enough of this buffoonery!" said a decisive voice, and the dwarf drew
back, not without a grimace, to make room for a person of soldierly
mien, who now pushed his way to the front. Over his doublet this
gentleman wore a somewhat frayed, but embroidered, cloak; his broad hat
was fringed with gold that had lost its luster; his countenance, deeply
burned, seemed that of an old campaigner. He regarded the fool
courteously, yet haughtily.
"Your sword, sir!" he commanded, in the tone of one accustomed to being
obeyed.
"To whom should I give it?" asked the duke's jester.
"To the Vicomte de Gruise, commandant of the town. I have a writ for
your arrest as a heretic."
"Who has lodged this information against me?"
"Triboulet. That is, he procured the duke's signature to the writ."
"And you think the duke a party to this farce, my Lord?" said the fool,
with assumed composure. "It has not occurred to you that before the
day is over all the village will be laughing at the spectacle of their
commandant--pardon me--being led by the nose by a jester?"
The officer's sun-burned face became yet redder; he frowned, then
glanced suspiciously at Triboulet, whose reputation was France-wide.
"This man was the duke's fool," screamed the dwarf, "and was imprisoned
by order of the king. His companion who is here with him was formerly
jestress to the princess. She is a sorceress and bewitched the
monarch. Then her fancy seized upon the heretic, and, by her dark art,
she opened the door of the cell for him. Together they fled; she from
the court, he from prison."
The commandant looked curiously from the hunchback to the accused. If
this were acting, the dwarf was indeed a master of the art.
"Besides, his haste to leave the village," eagerly went on Triboulet.
"Why was he dressed at this hour? Ask the landlord if he did not seem
unduly hurried?"
At this appeal the innkeeper, who had been an interested spectator, now
became a not unwilling witness.
"It is true he seemed hurried," he answered. "When he first came down
he ordered breakfast. I happened to mention the duke was at the
château, whereupon he lost his appetite with suspicious suddenness,
called for his horses, and was for riding off with all haste."
From the commandant's expression this testimony apparently removed any
doubts he may have entertained. Above the heads of the troopers massed
in the doorway the duke's _plaisant_ saw Jacqueline, standing on the
stairs, with wide-open, dark eyes fastened upon him. Involuntarily he
lifted his hand to his heart; across the brief space glance melted into
glance.
Persecuted Calvin maid--had not her fate been untoward enough without
this new disaster? Had not the king wrought sufficient ill to her and
hers in the past? Would she be sent back to the court; the monarch?
For himself he had no thought, but for her, who was nobler even than
her birthright. He had been thrice a fool who had not heeded
portentous warnings--the sight of Triboulet, the clamor of the
troopers--and had failed to flee during the night. As he realized the
penalty of his negligence would fall so heavily upon her, a cry of rage
burst from the fool's lips and he sprang toward his aggressors. The
young girl became yet whiter; a moment she clung to the baluster; then
started to descend the stairs. A dozen swords flashed before her eyes.
She drew in her breath sharply, when as if by some magic, the anger
faded from the face of the duke's fool; the hand he had raised to his
breast fell to his side; his blade remained sheathed.
"Your pardon, my Lord," he said to the commandant. "I have no
intention of resisting the authority of the law, but if you will grant
me a few moments' private audience in this room, I promise to convince
you the Duke of Friedwald never signed that writ."
"Let him convince the council that examines heretics," laughed
Triboulet. "I'll warrant they'll make short work of his arguments."
"I will give you my sword, sir," went on the jester. "Afterward, if
you are satisfied, you shall return it to me. If you are not, on my
word as a man of honor, I will go with you without more ado."
"A Calvinist, a jester, a man of honor!" cried the dwarf.
But narrowly the vicomte regarded the speaker. "_Pardieu_!" he
exclaimed gruffly. "Keep your sword! I promise you I can look to my
own safety." And in spite of Triboulet's remonstrance, he waved back
the troopers and closed the door upon the _plaisant_ and himself.
Outside the dwarf stormed and stamped. "The jester is desperate. It
is the noble count who is a nonny. Open, fool-soldiers!"
This command not being obeyed by the men who guarded the entrance, the
dwarf began to abuse them. A considerable interval elapsed; the
hunchback, who dared not go into the room himself, compromised by
kneeling before the keyhole; at the foot of the stairs stood the girl,
her strained gaze fastened upon the door.
"They must be near the window," muttered Triboulet in a disappointed
tone, rising. "What can they be about? Surely will he try to kill the
commandant."
But even as he spoke the door was suddenly thrown open and the vicomte
appeared on the threshold.
"Clear the hall!" he commanded sharply to the surprised soldiers. "If
I mistake not," he went on, addressing the duke's jester, "your horses
are at the door."
"You are going to let them go?" burst forth Triboulet.
"I trust you and this fair lady"--turning to the wondering girl, who
now stood expectantly at the side of the foreign fool--"will not harbor
this incident against our hospitality," went on the vicomte, without
heeding the dwarf.
"The king will hang you!" exclaimed Triboulet, his face black with
disappointment and rage, as he witnessed the _plaisant_ and the
jestress leave the tavern together. "Let them go and you must answer
to the king. One is a heretic who threw down a cross; the other I
charge with being a sorceress."
A terrible arraignment in those days, yet the vicomte was apparently
deaf. Hat in hand, he waved them adieu; the steeds sprang forward,
past the soldiers, and down the street.
"After them!" cried the dwarf to the troopers, "Dolts! Joltheads!"
Whereupon one of the men, angered at this baiting, reaching out with
his iron boot, caught the dwarf such a sharp blow he staggered and
fell, striking his head so violently he lay motionless on the walk. At
the same time, far above, a body of troopers might have been seen
issuing from the gates of the château and leisurely wending their way
downward.