PHILIBERT IN DANGER
Three years had passed. Philibert and Antoine now were tall youths, and
Marguerite was a slender, graceful maiden of fifteen.
"I am sorry that she is growing up," said Cunegunda to Le Glorieux.
"Then am I to infer that you are fond of dwarfs?" asked he.
"No, but do you not see that as soon as she becomes a woman she must
marry?"
"Most women do," he returned, "and most of them are equally
discontented, whether they do or do not."
"And small wonder, since they must marry men," said Cunegunda. Le
Glorieux could always throw her into a temper. "I did not marry again,
and I am not discontented," she added.
"I have no doubt that you have made many a man discontented by refusing
them right and left," said the fool politely.
Cunegunda smiled, but looked serious again as she said dolefully, "Our
princess must marry and go to live in a strange land. How I wish that
she were merely the child of a nobleman instead of being the daughter of
the emperor; then she could remain in Austria. Now she must go away."
[Illustration: "Something about me makes you cry"]
"You are getting ready to cry again," said the jester, in an injured
tone. "I am supposed to make people laugh. Even his Majesty laughs at
me. But there seems to be something about me that makes you cry. If you
will tell me what it is I will change it, both for your benefit and my
own. That you can not see the point of a joke, no matter if it is as big
as my head, is perhaps not your fault; but it seems to me that you might
keep from bursting into tears every time you see me or hear the jingle
of my bells."
Philibert de Bresse approached; he was dressed in all the grandeur of
the time, and a fine sword hung by his side. "What is the trouble with
Dame Cunegunda?" he asked.
"Nothing in particular," replied the fool, "save that she wants our
princess to marry a hair-dresser, or some person of the kind."
"I said nothing about a hair-dresser, and you know it!" snapped the
indignant woman. "I do not want my little lady to go away to a strange
country. I am now past middle age, and I am attached to my own land and
do not want to leave it."
"I was not aware that the emperor was arranging a foreign match for
you," remarked Le Glorieux.
Deeming this piece of satire too trivial to notice, Cunegunda said, "I
must go with my lady wherever she goes, for so I promised her mother."
"Is that promise to hold good until she is ninety?" asked Le Glorieux.
"It is to hold good as long as there is breath in my body, and she does
not forbid me to accompany her."
"But there is no danger--I mean there is no prospect of the Lady
Marguerite's making a foreign marriage?" asked Philibert hastily.
"I am very much inclined to believe that there is," replied Le Glorieux.
"If nothing of the kind happens soon, it will not be the fault of that
dark-browed Spanish envoy, Don Juan Manuel. He is quiet and cold, but he
is always thinking. Not that most people are not always thinking when
they are quiet, for few people's brains are swept quite empty of
thoughts, but his thinking counts for something. He knows quite well
what he is about, does Manuel. He is always talking to our emperor, who
listens with a great deal of attention to all that he says, and whatever
it is, it will be a good thing for Spain, you can make up your mind to
that."
"And who is this Spaniard who has so much influence over the Emperor of
Austria?" asked Philibert hotly. "He is a nobody, an ordinary Castilian,
who managed to attract the attention of the Queen of Spain, afterward
gaining her confidence when he became her secretary."
"Well, that he did gain her confidence, and that he has a good deal of
influence over Max, is a fact nevertheless," returned the fool. "The
young Prince of the Asturias is of the right age to marry, and will be a
suitable match for our princess, and, so far as I am concerned, I am
perfectly willing that they should marry, for I think that I should like
to live in Spain. The climate is very fine, there would not be so much
trouble in keeping warm as there is here, and I am fond of oranges."
"The Spanish match is not made yet, and how do you know that the Lady
Marguerite would take you with her, even if she should go to Spain?"
asked Cunegunda disdainfully.
"How do I know that she would take her shoes with her to Spain?" he
inquired. "I have become a necessity to her; she could not get on
without me. Besides that, I was a present to her from the Lady Anne, now
Queen of France. If I was valuable when I was the present of a mere
duchess, my value has increased tenfold now that I am the gift of a
queen. So do not talk any more nonsense about my not going, for I shall
be the first one to be considered."
"I do not want to go away to a strange country," reiterated Cunegunda,
and she went away wiping her eyes.
Philibert walked slowly to the other end of the room, seeming to be
absorbed in unpleasant thought, and the jester followed him, chattering
all the while, but getting no reply.
"Philbert, my boy," said he, "I can see that you are in a sour and
unhappy frame of mind. I feel that the remark I made about the climate
and the oranges of Spain has made you restless and envious. Besides
that, you do not want to be separated from me, for nobody does. Now, I
have a great deal of influence with my young mistress, and I will
persuade her to let you go to Spain in her suite. Think of it! How fine
it will be to hear the pretty senoritas tinkling their guitars, to pluck
the olives from the trees--not that I care for them when they are
plucked--and to see that great palace which the Spanish sovereigns
snatched from the Moors; and they say there is a bedstead made from the
gold that the Admiral Columbus brought from the new lands across the
sea; perhaps, if we manage it right we may be allowed to sleep in
that--in the bed, I mean, not the sea."
"Do not talk to me of Spain," said Philibert impatiently. "I hate the
country, and I never want to see it."
"Philibert, my boy," said the fool, not at all disturbed by this
outburst, "you are growing quick-tempered. I have noticed it for some
time. Try to cultivate a sweet and gentle disposition. I hope I am not
conceited, but really you would be more agreeable if you were more like
me."
The sound of gay laughter and buzz of conversation was heard, and the
Lady Marguerite and her ladies, followed by a number of gentlemen,
entered the salon. The princess wore a gown of white, with wide sleeves
that almost touched the floor; the heavy braids of her hair, wound with
ropes of pearls, fell far below her waist, while a fillet of the same
jewels clasped her brow. She came toward the window near which Philibert
and the jester stood, and said with a bright smile, "I am very happy. My
father has promised that I shall go with him to the mountains when he
goes to hunt chamois. Never before would he give his consent to my
going."
"To climb rocks and leap chasms after chamois would, I should think, be
very entertaining pastime for a lady," said Le Glorieux. "And you will
look well if your long locks should get caught in a crag and leave you
suspended like a spider from its web."
"Oh, I do not intend to hunt," she replied, laughing. "We ladies will
stop at the inn at the foot of the mountain, and go just a little way up
to see the hunters start."
"It will be more enjoyable if Philibert and Antoine and I should go
along," said Le Glorieux.
"Oh, yes; you shall go, if you like, and one of you shall get me a
flower of the edelweiss from some inaccessible crag."
Senor Manuel, the Spanish envoy, now joined them, in a hesitating
manner, as one who does not wish to intrude, yet who has something of
importance to say. "I have something here that I was ordered to give to
your Highness," said he. "It is a gift from his royal Highness, the
Prince of the Asturias." He drew a small packet from his breast, which
he placed in her hand with a profound obeisance, and withdrew without
more words.
[Illustration: "Come, Philibert, please cut this cord for me"]
"Oh," said the princess, "I wonder what it can be!" She tried eagerly to
undo the wrappings, for she was young enough to be very anxious
regarding a present. Taking a seat in the window she busied herself with
the cord, which she twisted into a hopeless tangle in her haste to untie
it. "Come, Philibert," she called impatiently, "please cut this cord for
me."
He took the package from her hand and broke the cord in his strong
fingers so suddenly and so vigorously that the wrappings fell apart and
a portrait fell with a sharp click to the floor.
"You must not open a package as if you were trying to throttle an
assassin," said Le Glorieux reproachfully, as Philibert with an apology
recovered the portrait and placed it in the Lady Marguerite's hand.
"Her Highness is unfortunate in asking the assistance of one so
awkward," murmured Philibert, and with a bow he withdrew.
But Marguerite did not look at him, so intent was she in examining the
portrait. "Come and see what was sent to me by Don Juan, Prince of the
Asturias," she said to the other ladies, some of whom were young, and
all as eager to see it as herself. The portrait was painted on ivory,
and was surrounded by diamonds; it was of a youth on the threshold of
manhood, a gentle, pleasing face, with blue eyes and fair hair.
"I thought Spaniards were dark," said Marguerite.
"The Prince could not well be dark, since his father and mother both are
fair," said one of the gentlemen, who had visited the court of Spain.
"His mother, Queen Isabella, is descended from the great English House
of Plantagenet, both of her parents coming from that royal family."
"So much the better if he is light," remarked the jester. "My own hair
is light, being indeed of a fine reddish tinge, though the cap I wear
conceals its beauty from the world, which is a pity. I never have known
many Spaniards, but I am sure I should be fonder of a light-haired one
than of that dark ambassador with his black hair always as smooth as
glass, like the head of a snake, and who glides in and out so silently
that you never see him until he stands before you."
Marguerite's ladies expressed a great deal of admiration for the
picture, which they considered a very handsome face, but perhaps their
opinion was biased by the fact that the original was the future king of
one of the richest and most powerful nations in Europe. But Marguerite
slipped the portrait beneath her girdle and expressed no further
opinion concerning it.
The court was now staying in the royal castle of Innsbruck in the Tyrol.
Maximilian cherished a fond affection for this country, because he had
added it to the possessions left him by his father. In his bedchamber at
Innsbruck are to be found these lines, "I, king by the grace of God,
wear the crown that I may protect the poor, and be just to all, and in
order that we may all live in peace eternal."
The landlord of the The Hunter's Rest, the inn at the foot of the
mountains where his Majesty went to hunt, had entertained the emperor
more than once; but he was somewhat overwhelmed by the company of
ladies, who now formed a part of the imperial party. Maximilian, as
usual upon such occasions, was plainly dressed; he wore a green hunting
suit somewhat the worse for wear, for he was not particular regarding
his personal appearance when engaged in his favorite pastime of chasing
the chamois. An Alpine hat with a single feather was worn where the
crown of the Hapsburgs had rested, while his aristocratic feet were
encased in stout hunting boots. Yes, the emperor was more like one of
themselves; he was always so merry, laughing and joking with the
landlord's wife, chucking the roly-poly children under their chins,
exchanging a good-natured word with anybody who happened to drop in,
that he won all hearts, and they forgot their awe of the emperor in
their admiration of the man.
But these ladies in their elegant fur-trimmed gowns and their dainty
little ways,--would anything that the inn afforded be half good enough
for them? The landlord soon found, however, that the greatest lady among
them, the princess herself, was sweet and gracious, and she even kissed
the dimpled face of the baby, an act on her part which never was
forgotten, and which the child herself lived to tell to her
grandchildren, always pointing to the exact spot which her good mother
had informed her had been brushed by the rosy lips of her Highness, the
Lady Marguerite of Hapsburg. And the other ladies were obliged to unbend
in imitation of their young mistress, and so they were far less
awe-inspiring than had been expected.
The ladies accompanied the hunters a little way up the mountain, until
the ascent became steep and tiresome, and then they returned to the inn.
There the princess, who was very fond of pets, was greatly attracted by
a baby chamois, a little kid, which had been adopted by the landlord's
children. He was a cunning little fellow, with bright eyes that seemed
to sparkle with fun when she stroked his foolish little face and soft
velvety ears. When she spoke to him he would turn his head to one side
as if reflecting upon what the lady had said, seeming to be thinking
very hard with a view of giving a suitable reply, and then he would
double himself up and roll about like a kitten.
In the meantime the emperor's party were climbing higher, an ascent
which grew more and more difficult as they continued. Le Glorieux, who
had hunted the chamois in the company of his late master, was acquainted
with the ways of this elusive animal, which is one of the most difficult
in the world to hunt. But to Philibert and Antoine the experience was
new and strange. These three were a little behind the others when Le
Glorieux said, pointing to the right, "There is one!"
"Oh, that," said Philibert, "is nothing but a rock. You are prepared to
see a chamois in every distant object."
"I am very much mistaken," said the other, "if that is not a sentinel
sent out to watch for danger, while the others may take their breakfast
in peace. You have no idea what a very clever animal the chamois is. If
a good many kings and emperors were half as keen to scent danger it
would be a great deal better for the countries they rule."
"What is the good of a chamois being a sentinel?" asked Antoine. "If
that is one he is too far away from the others to call their attention
to danger."
"Not a bit of it," was the reply. "He is too clever to get too far away
to give the signal; trust him to look out for that. If he should see us
he would say in his way, which would be to stamp his forefeet and give
a shrill kind of a whistle, 'Here are some of those disgusting human
beings with their bows and arrows. Get out of their way as fast as you
can, every one of you!'"
One of the huntsmen now said that they would be obliged to go back and
come up the other side of the gorge, as they must get above the game in
order to shoot it, so they went down a steep ravine, climbing over
ledges of rock and up the other side. But in the meantime the sentinel
had done his duty and had informed his friends of the presence of the
men with their bows and arrows, and the party, which now could see the
flock, numbering some twenty animals, saw a scampering that was
wonderful to behold. With a series of remarkable leaps they sprang over
a gulch and climbed up rocks so steep it seemed as if no living creature
could have found a footing.
Round the other way went the hunters after them, rushing pell-mell over
rocks and shrubs, but all the animals escaped save one, which seemed
doomed eventually to become the prey of Maximilian. Higher and higher
climbed the frightened chamois, higher and higher followed the straight
athletic figure of the emperor. Once when he was hunting chamois
Maximilian had found himself in a position so perilous that it seemed to
him that nothing but the suddenly-developed wings of a bird could
possibly extricate him, but he did not remember former dangers now, for
he thought of nothing but the capture of the frightened creature flying
before him.
Finally the hunted animal could go no farther, finding it impossible to
climb higher, or to pass its pursuer in a downward flight. So there was
nothing to do but to wait in trembling expectancy the death that was
sure to come. The emperor seized his knife, and the chamois, as if
willing at last to yield to the inevitable, seemed to lean its soft body
toward the cruel blade, then fell headlong down the rocks, from where it
was afterward taken by the attendants.
And thus the hunt continued, and Philibert, though he watched it with
interest, had turned his mind upon the attainment of one object, and
that was finding a cluster of edelweiss. Sometimes our thoughts appear
to be reflected in the mind of some one besides us, and it now seemed to
be the case, for Le Glorieux said, "I am not foolishly squeamish, I
should hope, and I have stood up in battle and shot at men who were able
to defend themselves, but I can not say that it amuses me in the least
to see a chamois killed. They are such gentle things, and they make such
a plucky effort to save themselves, and they look at their captor with
such piteous eyes when they are stabbed, that I do not see anything
enjoyable in it, though, of course, I am nothing but a fool. And, as our
little princess wants a sprig of edelweiss, I shall go in pursuit of a
flower instead of a chamois."
"Le Glorieux, dear Le Glorieux, let me get the flower for her," pleaded
Philibert.
"What matters which of us gets it, so long as she has it?" asked the
fool. "Let us both look for it, and then it will be more likely to be
found."
"Very well, if you think best, but I like to do things for her, Le
Glorieux. I went to the wars with my father when I was so young that I
scarcely remember the love of a sister, and when the Lady Marguerite
smiled at me the first night that I saw her, with a look of kindness
that no one else ever had given me, I felt as if I could give up my life
for her."
"She always is kind," said the jester; "she never is haughty, even to
her servants. I loved her in the first place because she was her
mother's daughter, but now I love her for herself. She never has a harsh
word or a sharp tongue for the poor fool, and seems to remember that he
has feelings as well as the rest of the world."
[Illustration: He lay for some time stunned]
The edelweiss is a flower which grows upon dizzy heights, blooming under
the snow. The great difficulty sometimes experienced in finding it
renders it the more desirable. Philibert had seen the flower and knew
that it usually grew in dangerous places; but this fact did not make him
hesitate for a moment in his resolve to pluck it. After searching for
some time he was at last rewarded by seeing a cluster of the snowy
blossoms hanging over the edge of a dark rock some distance below him.
There was no way to reach it but to attempt a dangerous descent by
climbing down the cliff to where the flowers grew. But the boy, in his
eagerness to obtain the flower, did not think of the danger, and
forthwith began to climb downward, finding a foothold on rough
projections, and clinging to others, sliding cautiously downward, for
there was a little level space just above the plant where he knew he
could stand while securing it. It was a foolhardy feat, and would not
have been undertaken by any but a rash youth, who gave no thought to
possible consequences, and who was resolved to accomplish what he had
undertaken in spite of everything. A stunted shrub grew out of the rocks
some distance above the flower, and Philibert grasped it, thinking to
swing himself downward. This act was his undoing, for the treacherous
limb broke with a sharp snap, and the youth was precipitated downward,
not to the level space beside the flower, but over it and some twenty
feet down to another level space, where he lay for some time stunned and
unconscious.
When he returned to his senses he was lying flat on his back on a narrow
ledge of rock, and dangerously near the edge, with a little stream of
blood trickling from his temple. Rising to his feet he moved his legs
and arms as vigorously as possible, to see if any bones were broken, but
was delighted to find that, with the exception of the cut, which did
not seem to be a deep one, he had sustained no serious injury.
But Philibert would have been far more comfortable and easy in his mind
on safe ground with a broken arm than he was in this lonely spot, though
comparatively uninjured. For the depth below him was so great that it
made him dizzy to look over the edge of his resting-place, while above
him the rock was so steep that not even a chamois could have climbed it.
And there above him, as it had been but a short time ago below him, was
the edelweiss, its flowers nodding at him impudently as if defying him
to come up and take them. "I will have you yet," said he, though he felt
that in the circumstances this sounded a good deal like an empty boast.
Each member of the hunting party had a horn at his side to blow in case
of need, but that of Philibert was flattened by his fall, and would not
give forth the faintest sound. His friends would miss him and search for
him, but he had heard of people who had been lost for ever among these
cold, silent mountains, and he could not help thinking that possibly
this was to be his own fate, for he knew that, intent upon his search,
he had wandered quite a distance from his companions, who might not know
in what direction to look for him. And all this for a cluster of
starlike blossoms that looked over the edge of the rock above him and
nodded in derision! He put his hands to his mouth and called as loudly
as he could, but the rocks echoed his call and seemed to throw it back
at him disdainfully and mockingly.
He repeated the call until he was tired, then he sat down quietly to
think. How long could he remain here before he froze or starved to
death? He had heard of life being sustained on roots and herbs, but
there was nothing here but rock, and nothing above him but rock, while
below him there seemed to be naught save the empty air. After a while,
when the excitement caused by his new position had given way to despair,
he found that the wound on his temple really did pain him, and turning
quite faint he remained for a long while with his eyes closed.
After what seemed to be a very long time the sound of a horn was borne
to him on the air, a sound which seemed to the lost one as sweet as the
song of an angel. He rose to his feet, and, putting his hands to his
mouth once more, he called three times with all his strength. An
answering call reassured him, and soon hearing voices, he called again,
and was overjoyed to see the faces of his friends looking over the
precipice above.
"In the name of all the saints, boy," called Maximilian, "are you hurt?"
"No, your Majesty, only a little bruised."
There was the hurried buzz of conversation, which he could not
distinguish, and the looped end of a rope was lowered to him, which he
secured about his body. Then he was slowly drawn up, and as he swung
opposite the nodding blossoms, Philibert reached out his hands and
grasped them, pulling them out by the roots.
"What is the matter with the boy? Is he out of his senses?" asked the
emperor, who was anxiously watching the ascent to terra firma.
"No, I do not know that you could call him out of his senses exactly,"
replied Le Glorieux. "The Lady Marguerite wanted some edelweiss
blossoms, and he was trying to find them for her. I have no doubt that
he was after that very bunch when he fell. There is one thing that I
have noticed about Philibert," went on the jester, "and that is that
when he starts out to do a thing he will do it if it threatens every
drop of blood in his body."
"He is a foolhardy youth," said the emperor. "I can understand how one
could take almost any risk to kill a chamois, but not to pluck a handful
of weeds." But he looked pleased, nevertheless, for he was a man who
could appreciate perseverance. And he examined Philibert's wound with
careful attention, saying that the two boys and the jester should return
to the inn in the company of one of the guides. And Philibert de Bresse
still clutched the flowers which he had risked so much to obtain.
Behind the mountaineer's hut, where the remainder of the party expected
to spend the night, Le Glorieux took from the spot where he carefully
had placed them, a cluster of snowy blossoms, which, with great
difficulty, a scratched face, and some bruises, he had gathered before
he heard of Philibert's mishap. These children of the snow he threw over
the cliff unseen by his companions. "Let him have all the praise and the
honor of it," said he to himself. "You are nothing but a fool, Le
Glorieux, and you must not be selfish."
The princess received the flowers with a little cry of joy, and she
thanked the donor with a smile so beaming, inquiring so tenderly about
his wound, that Philibert felt repaid a thousandfold for the trouble he
had taken to gratify her wish.
"But, my poor Le Glorieux," said the princess sweetly, "you have an ugly
scratch across your face, and your hands are bruised. Have you also had
a fall?"
"No, little Cousin," he returned gravely, and with a shake of the head.
"The scrapings you notice on my handsome countenance and on my slender
hands are but the result of a weakness with which I was born."
"You were not born with those scratches, or I should have observed them
long ago," she replied, smiling.
"I said the result of a weakness, your Highness. It is my nature to want
to climb. Whenever I see the side of a rock I am seized with an
uncontrollable desire to scale it, and climb I must if the sky falls. I
always have found it the most agreeable sensation in the world to be
clinging to the side of a rock with nothing over me but the blue of the
heavens, and nothing beneath me but the blue of some mountain lake and
with a delightful feeling of uncertainty as to just where I am to find
my next foothold."
"That is an odd taste indeed," she returned, laughing, "and I do not
think there are many who share it with you."
Antoine, I regret to say, was a mischievous youth, as we have seen from
the trick he played on his friend the jester when they first started out
on their journey together, and it may have been--though of course he
would have scorned the suggestion--that some of the raps given him by
the old Duchess of Burgundy were not altogether undeserved.
However that may be, he surely did meddle with something at the inn
which did not concern him, as you shall presently see. That "something"
was a cunning little bear. The innkeeper conducted the jester and the
two boys to a rude cage constructed out of the limbs of trees, which he
had placed a little distance from the house and near the edge of the
forest. Within the cage was a brown bear cub which had been brought to
him by a friend. This wild and woolly pet, he said, he was going to
train and sell for a good round sum to a traveling mountebank, who would
want to exhibit it in the courtyards of inns and before the nobility.
Young Master Bruin was already learning, and one felt that his education
would be completed by the time he was full grown. When his master would
say "Come," he would obey, and he could stand on his hind feet in a
manner that was quite genteel, and he was greatly admired by the three
guests of his master, who watched his performances. When replaced in the
cage, he walked round and round it, and every time he came to a corner
he would bow, as all bears do when caged, but Le Glorieux remarked, "I
see that you have begun by teaching him to be polite, and politeness is
a great thing in man or beast. There are a good many things we could
learn from animals if we would only think about it, though we are so
well satisfied with ourselves that we think we are the only living
beings in the world who are worth considering. There are not many of us
who are as faithful in our friendship as an ordinary dog, and did you
ever watch a cat when she had her mind bent on getting a certain mouse?
Talk about patience and perseverance! Why, if a man had as much, he
could accomplish almost anything he set out to do!"
"I should like to take that little bear out and play with him," remarked
Antoine, as the innkeeper walked on ahead with Philibert.
"Just you take my advice, my young friend, and let that bear alone,"
said the jester, with emphasis. "The owner of the bear will teach him a
number of tricks, no doubt, but there is one that he will not be
obliged to learn, having been born with it, and that is the art of
hugging."
"Pooh!" said Antoine, "a little thing like that could not hurt me. I
have played with dogs a good deal larger than that bear."
"You take my advice and let him alone, or the emperor may be asking for
one of his favorite songs and find nobody at hand to sing it."
But even in this twentieth century a boy may be found once in a while
who will not take good advice, though experience always teaches the
wisdom of listening to older people, and Antoine allowed the good
counsel of Le Glorieux to glide from his mind as drops of water roll off
a duck's back, so, at the very first opportunity he could find to do so
unseen, he returned to the bear's cage.
Taking the rope which the bear's master had used to lead him about,
Antoine opened the door and tried to get the loop about the animal's
neck. Master Bruin, as if realizing that here was some one who had no
business to tamper with him, growled and gazed at the intruder with a
sardonic grin, which revealed all his sharp white teeth.
"You need not look so fierce, you woolly little thing," said the boy;
"you are no bigger than a ball of knitting yarn. I should be ashamed to
be afraid of you." Then he dragged the rope back and held the loop open
in his hand, calling, "Come, come," as the innkeeper had done. But
young Bruin crouched sulkily in the extreme end of his domicile, without
deigning to move.
Then the boy took a long stick and poked him with it, saying, "You
obstinate pig of a bear, we shall see whether you will come out or not.
You have made me lose all patience with you."
[Illustration: In the way of squeezing he was an adept]
The little bear now made up his mind to accept the invitation, and that,
too, very swiftly and suddenly, and before Antoine had time to throw the
loop over his head or even to think what to do next, the bear was upon
him. Bruin scorned to bite. His talent and taste did not lie in that
direction, but in the way of squeezing he was an adept. He hugged
Antoine as if the boy had been a lost brother now restored to his arms
after a lapse of many years. The boy thought of the dagger he wore in
his belt, but in order to reach the weapon it was necessary to have the
use of his arms, and both of those members were securely pinned to his
side by that inconsiderate little bear, who went on squeezing as if he
never meant to leave off. Antoine now was very much frightened. He was
at the mercy of his foe and he was afraid that the breath would be
pressed out of his body in a very short time.
He gave a shrill and ear-piercing yell which brought the innkeeper and
Le Glorieux in haste from the house and opened all the windows on that
side, where heads were thrust out to see what was the matter.
What the bear thought when he saw his master never will be known. What
he did was to release his hold on the boy as suddenly as if the latter
had been a hot potato, and scamper away as rapidly as his clumsy legs
could carry him. The two men ran in pursuit, but their efforts were
unavailing, for Master Bruin had deserted civilization forevermore.
"I warned you, did I not, to let that bear alone?" asked Le Glorieux
indignantly. "Did I not tell you that he was terrible when it came to
hugging? Why did you do just what I warned you not to do? People who
refuse to take good advice are always sorry for it."
"I only wanted to have a little sport with him," whimpered Antoine. "I
did not know that bears could hug so hard."
"You have found it out now," said the jester. "You have played our
friend here a fine trick. He was keeping the bear in order to sell him
at a good price, and you, in spite of everything I could say to you,
must let the animal escape. It would be no more than fair for you to pay
whatever he is worth to our good host and consider yourself lucky with
getting off without a cuffing in addition--a punishment you deserve!"
Antoine felt the justice of this remark and emptied out the contents of
his purse. But when he saw what a small sum it was, Le Glorieux relented
and said gently, "Put aside your money, my boy; there is not enough to
bother about. You are one of our party, the emperor's and mine, and I
will pay for the damage you have done." And he offered the innkeeper a
handful of silver. The latter, being upright as well as good-natured,
refused to take all the money offered him by the jester, merely taking
what he had expected to receive for the bear, showing that honesty is a
plant that will flourish anywhere, provided the ground be favorable.
[Illustration: The remains of what once had been a velvet glove]
The Lady Marguerite had an experience of her own with one of the pets
belonging to the inn. When she and her ladies returned from their walk
they were met at the door by the landlady, who was as pale and terrified
as if some calamity had overtaken her. In her left hand she extended
toward the princess a wet and torn object which resembled a piece of mop
rag that had seen long service, but which in reality was the remains of
what once had been a velvet glove embroidered with seed pearls. Under
her right arm she held with some difficulty, for he was wriggling with
all his might, a small puppy of the age when dogs believe that the chief
object of life is to chew things, and who looked at the princess with an
impudent little bark, just as if he had not been striving with all the
patience and perseverance of which he was capable to reduce a piece of
her property to a pulp.
"Oh, this hound, this hound, your Highness!" moaned the poor woman. "I
have tried my utmost to keep him out of the way of your Highness and
out of the bedchamber of your Highness! My boys and my husband, they
will have every kind of an animal about, but for me I hate them all--I
mean the animals, your Highness, and not my husband and my sons. And
this hound, your Highness, he has been determined to go into your
bedchamber at any cost, though I have driven him away from it again and
again. He seems to have had nothing else on his mind since your Highness
has honored this poor place with your presence. And when I went in your
room this morning to put it in order, he slipped in unseen by me and
remained under a chair, occupied in chewing this valuable glove just as
if it had been the object of his life to feed upon pearls."
"Never mind," said the Lady Marguerite soothingly. "They are too small
to injure him, even if he has swallowed any of them."
"Injure him! What should I care for him?" cried the woman. "It is the
loss of the glove belonging to your Highness that distresses me."
"Oh, do not trouble yourself about the glove; I have plenty more. But
what a pretty puppy, and a fine breed, too."
"Yes, your Highness, the breed is well enough," replied the woman sadly,
as if she wished that the puppy had striven more faithfully to live up
to the traditions of his race.
"I should like to have him," said the princess, "and you shall be paid
whatever you think that he is worth."
"Does your Highness want a dog that has just wrought such destruction?"
asked the good woman, in amazement.
"Of course, why not?" said Marguerite, taking the dog in her own arms.
"You did not know that it was my glove, did you, doggie?"
"Your Highness is perfectly welcome to him for nothing at all," was the
reply, but the princess insisted upon paying her a price for the small
animal, which the landlady considered sufficient to purchase all the
dogs in the Tyrol. And his new mistress named him Brutus, which was a
very grown-up and dignified name for so small and mischievous a member
of the dog family, and as he was very intelligent he became the most
favored of Marguerite's pets.
When they returned to the palace at Innsbruck Le Glorieux said, "Little
Cousin, we each have a souvenir of the trip; you have the puppy, your
father has some fine chamois horns, Philibert has a cut temple, Antoine
sore ribs, while I have a scratched face, owing to my passion for
climbing."