Under the Rose Part 30

"And miss the hunt? Not I, Monsieur Spoil-Sport."

"But if they find you with me?"

She only tossed her head wilfully and did not answer.

Nearer came the hue and cry of the chase. A heavy-horned buck sprang into the road and vanished like a flash into the timber on the other side. Shortly afterward, in a compact bunch, with heads downbent and stiffened tails, the pack, a howling, discordant ma.s.s, swept across the narrow, open s.p.a.ce.

"Quick!" exclaimed the jester, and they turned their horses into the underbrush.

Scarcely had they done so when, closely following the dogs, appeared the first of the hunters, mounted on a splendid charger, with housings of rose-velvet.

"_Pardieu!_" muttered the _plaisant_, "I owe the king no thanks, but he rides well. Do you not think so, Jacqueline?"

Her answering gaze was puzzling. After Francis rode many lords and ladies, a stream of color crossing the road; riding habits faced with gold; satin doublets covered with _rivieres_ of diamonds; torsades wherein gold became the foil to precious stones. So near was the gorgeous cavalcade--the grand falconer, whippers-in, and the bearers of hooded birds mingling with the courtiers immediately behind the king--the escaped prisoner and the jestress could hear the panting of horses. Fleeting, transient, it pa.s.sed; fainter sounded the din of hounds and horn; now it almost died away in the distance. The last couple had scarcely vanished before the fool and his companion left their ambush.

"You ride farther, Jacqueline?" he said.

"A little farther."

"It will be far to return," he protested.

"I have no fear," she answered, tranquilly.

Again he let her have her way, as one would yield to a wilful child.

On and on they sped; past the place where the deer-run crossed the broader path; through an ever-varying forest; now on one side, a rocky basin overrun with trees and shrubs; again, on the other hand, a great gorge, in whose depths flowed a whispering stream. Yonder appeared the gray walls of an ancient monastery, one part only of which was habitable; a turn in the road swallowed it up as though abruptly to complete the demolition time was slowly to bring about. On and on, until the way became wilder and the wood more overgrown with bushes and tangled shrubbery, when she suddenly stopped her horse.

He understood; at last they were to part. And, remembering what he owed to her, the Jester suddenly found himself regretting that here their paths separated forever. Swiftly his mind flew back to their first meeting; when she had flouted him in Fools' hall. A perverse, capricious maid. How she had ever crossed him, and yet--nursed him.

Attentively he regarded her. The customary pallor of her face had given way to a faint tint; her eyes were humid, dewy-bright; beneath the little cap, the curling tresses would have been the despair of those later-day reformers, the successors of Calvinists and Lutherans.

"A will-o'-the-wisp," he thought. "A man might follow and never grasp her."

Did she read what he felt? That mingled grat.i.tude and perplexity? Her clear eyes certainly seemed to have a peculiar mastery over the thoughts of others. Now they expressed only mockery.

"The greater danger is over," she said, quietly. "From now on there is less fear of your being taken."

"Thanks to you!" he answered, searching her with his glance.

Here he doubted not she would make known the quest of which she had spoken. Whatever it might be, he would faithfully requite her; even to making his own purpose subservient to it.

"It is now time," she said, demurely, "to acquaint you with the mission. Of course, you will accept it?"

"Can you ask?" he answered, earnestly.

"You promise?"

"To serve you with my life."

"Then we had better go on," she continued.

"But, Mademoiselle, I thought--"

"That we were to part here? Not at all. I am not yet ready to leave you. In fact, good Master Jester, I am going with you. _I_ am the quest; _I_ am the mission. Are you sorry you promised?"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE SECRET OF THE JESTRESS

She, the quest, the mission! With growing amazement he gazed at her, but she returned his look, as though enjoying his surprise.

"You do not seem overpleased with the prospect of my company?" she observed. "Or perhaps you fear I may enc.u.mber you?" With mock irony.

"Confess, the service is more onerous than you expected?"

Beneath her flushed, yet smiling face lay a nervous earnestness he could divine, but not fathom.

"Different, certainly," he answered, brusquely.

Her eyes flashed. "How complimentary you are!"

"For your own sake--"

"My sake!" she exclaimed, pa.s.sionately. Her little hand closed fiercely; proudly her eyes burned into his. "Think you I have taken this step idly? That it is but the caprice of a moment? Oh, no; no!

It was necessary to flee from the court. But to whom could a woman turn? Not to any of the court--tools of the king. One person only was there; he whose life was as good as forfeited. Do you understand?"

"That my life belongs to you? Yes. But that you should leave the court--where you have influence, friends--"

"Influence! friends!"

He was startled by the bitterness of her voice.

"Tell me, Jacqueline--why do you wish to go?" he said, wonderingly.

"Because I wish to," she returned, briefly, and stroked the s.h.i.+ning neck of her horse.

Indeed, how could she apprise him of events which were now the talk of the court? How Francis, evincing a sudden interest as strong as it was unexpected, had exchanged Triboulet for herself, and the princess, at the king's request, had taken the buffoon with her, and left the girl behind. The jestress' welcome to the household of the Queen of Navarre; a subsequent bewildering shower of gifts; the complacent, although respectful, attentions of the king. How she had endured these advances until no course remained save the one she had taken. No; she could not tell the duke's fool all this.

Between _folle_ and fugitive fell a mutual reserve. Did he divine some portion of the truth? Are there moments when the mind, tuned to a tension, may almost feel what another experiences? Why had the girl not gone with her mistress? He remembered she had evaded this question when he had asked it. Looking at her, for the first time it crossed his mind she would be held beautiful; an odd, strange beauty, imperious yet girlish, and the conviction crept over him there might be more than a shadow of excuse for her mad flight.

Beneath his scrutiny her face grew cold, disdainful. "Like all men,"

she said, sharply, as though to stay the trend of his thoughts, "you are prodigal in promises, but chary in fulfilment."

"Where is it your pleasure to go?" he asked quietly.

"That we shall speak of hereafter," she answered, haughtily.

"Forward then."