Under the Rose Part 35

Bolt and swig, as ye will."

The rattle of dishes and the play of forks succeeded this good-natured suggestion. It was truly evident mine host commanded the good will and the services of the band by appealing to their appet.i.tes. An esculent roast or pungent stew was his cure for uprising or rebellion; a high-seasoned ragout or frica.s.see became a sovereign remedy against treachery or defection. He could do without them, for knaves were plentiful, but they could not so easily dispense with this fat master of the board who had a knack in turning his hand at marvelous and savory messes, for which he charged such full reckoning that his third of the spoils, augmented by subsequent additions, was like to become all.

A wave of anger against this unwieldy hypocrite and well-fed malefactor swept over the jester. The man's a.s.sumed heartiness, his manner of joviality and good-fellows.h.i.+p, were only the mask of moral turpitude and blackest purpose. But for the lawless scholar, the fool would probably have retired to his bed with full confidence in the probity and honesty of the greatest delinquent of them all.

"What shall we do with the girl?" asked one of the outlaws, interrupting this trend of thought in the listener's mind.

"Serve her the same as the fool," answered the landlord, carelessly.

"But she's a handsome wench," retorted the leader, thoughtfully.

"Straight as a poplar; eyes like a sloe. With the boar and the jade, I should do well, when I become tired resting here."

"If she's as easily tamed as the boar?" suggested the host, significantly.

"Devil take me, if her nails are as long as his tusks," retorted the follow, with a coa.r.s.e laugh.

"An I had a hostelry in town, she could bait the n.o.bles thither,"

commented the host, thoughtfully.

"Give her to the scamp-student," remarked the fellow who had first spoken.

"Nay, since Nanette ran off with a street singer and left me spouseless, I have made a vow of celibacy," hastily answered the piping voice of the lank scholar.

A series of loud guffaws greeted the scamp-student's declaration, while the subsequent rough humor of the knaves made the listener's cheek burn with indignation. Yet forced to listen he was, knowing that the slightest movement on his part would quickly seal the fate of himself and the young girl. But every fiber of his being revoked against that ribald talk; he bit his lip hard, hearing her name bandied about by miscreants and wretches of the lowest type, and even welcomed a startling change in the discourse, occasioned by the leader.

"Enough, rogues. We must settle with the jester first. Afterward, it will be time enough to deal with the maid. Hast done feeding and tippling yet, morio?"

"Yes, master," said the suspiciously m.u.f.fled voice of the imbecile.

"Here's the knife then. You shall have another tankard when you come back."

"Another tankard!" muttered the creature.

At these significant words, knowing that the crucial moment had come, the jester retreated rapidly, and, making his way down the pa.s.sage, stood in a dark corner near his room. As of one accord the voices ceased below; a heavy creaking announced the approach of the morio; nearer and nearer, first on the stairs, then in the upper corridor.

From where he remained concealed the fool dimly discerned the figure of the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin.

At the door of the jestress' room it paused. The fool lifted his blade; the form pa.s.sed on. Before the chamber of the _plaisant_ its movements became more stealthy; it bent and listened. Should the jester spring upon it now? A strange loathing made him hesitate, and, before he had time to carry his purpose into execution, the creature, throwing aside further pretense of caution, swung back the door and launched himself across the apartment. A heavy blow, swiftly followed by another; afterward, the stillness of death.

Every moment the jester expected an outcry; the announcement of the fruitlessness of the attack, but the morio made no sound. The silence became oppressive; the _plaisant_ felt almost irresistibly impelled toward that terrible chamber, when with heavy, lumbering step, the creature reappeared, traversed the hall like a huge automaton and mechanically descended the stairs. Recovering from his surprise, the fool again resumed his position commanding the scene below, and breathlessly awaited the sequel to the singular pantomime he had witnessed.

"Well, is it done?" asked the harsh voice of the master of the boar.

"Yes; done!" was the submissive answer.

"Good! Now to get the sword."

"Not so fast," broke in the landlord. "Do you kill, morio, without drawing blood? Look at his dagger."

The leader took the blade, examined it, and then began to call down curses on the head of the imbecile monster. "Clean, save for a thread of cotton," he cried angrily. "You never went near him."

"Yes, yes, master!" replied the creature, eagerly.

"Then, perhaps, you strangled him?" suggested the man.

"No; stab! stab!" reiterated the morio, in an almost imploring tone, shrinking from the glances cast upon him.

"Bah! You stabbed the bed, fool; not the man," roughly returned the other. "The rogue has guessed our purpose and left the room," he continued, addressing the others. "But he's skulking somewhere. Well, knaves, here's a little coursing for us all. Up with you, morio, and find him. Perhaps, though, he may prefer to come down." And the leader called out: "Give yourself up, rascal, or it will be the worse for you."

To this paradoxical threat no answer was returned. Standing in the shadow at the head of the stairs, the jester only gripped tighter the hilt of the coveted sword, while across his vision flashed the picture of the young girl, left helpless, alone! What mercy would they show?

The coa.r.s.e words of the master of the boar and the gibing, loose responses of the company recurred to him, and, setting his jaw firmer, the plaisant peered, with gleaming eyes, down into the semi-gloom.

"You won't answer?" cried the leader, after a short interval. "Smell him out then, rogues."

Knife in hand, the others at his heels, the morio slowly made his way up the stairs. Goaded by the taunts of the outlaws, his face was distorted with ferocity; through his lips came a fierce, sibilant breathing; in the dim light his colossal figure and enormous head seemed in no wise human, but rather a murderous phantasm. With head rolling from side to side, stabbing in the air with his knife, he continued to approach,--an object calculated to strike terror into any breast.

"Oh! oh!" murmured a voice behind the jester, and, turning, he saw Jacqueline. Disturbed by the tumult and the loud voices, the jestress had left her room to learn the cause of the unusual din, and now, with her dark hair a cloud around her, stood gazing fearfully over the fool's shoulder.

At the sound of the young girl's voice, so near, the _plaisant's_ hand, which for the moment had been unsteady, became suddenly steel. Almost impatiently he awaited the coming of the morio; at last he drew near, but, as if instinctively realizing the presence of danger, paused, his arm ceasing to strike, but remaining stationary in the air.

"Go on!" impatiently shouted those behind him.

At the command the creature sprang forward furiously, when the sword of the jester shot out; once, twice! From the morio's grip fell the dagger; over his face the l.u.s.t for killing was replaced by a look of surprise; with a single moan, he threw both arms on high, and, tottering like an oak, the monster fell backward with a crash, carrying with him the rogues behind. Imprecations, threats and cries of pain ensued; several knaves went limping away from the struggling group; one lay prostrate as the morio himself; the master of the boar rubbed his shoulder, anathematizing roundly the cause of the disaster.

"I think my arm's put out!" he said. "Is the creature dead?" he added, viciously.

"Dead as a herring," answered the landlord, bending over the motionless figure.

"Beshrew me, I thought the jester was a craven," growled he of the boar. "What does it mean?"

"That he saw the snare and spread another," replied the host.

"Go back to your room, mistress," whispered the plaisant to the young girl, "and lock yourself in."

"Nay; I'll not leave you," she replied. "Do you think they will return?" she added in a voice she strove to make firm.

"I am certain of it. Go, I beg you--to your window and call out. It is a slender hope, but the best we have. Fear not; I can hold the stairs yet a while."

A moment she hesitated, then glided away. At the same time he of the boar grasped a sword in his left hand, and, with his right hanging useless, rushed up the stairs.

"Oh, there you are, my nimble wit-cracker!" he cried, as the jester stepped boldly out. "'Twas a pretty piece of foolery you played on the monster and us, but quip for quirk, my merry wag!" And, so speaking, he directed a violent thrust which, had it taken effect, would, indeed, have made good the leader's threat.

But the _plaisant_ stepped aside, the blow grazed his shoulder, while his own blade, by a rapid counter, pa.s.sed through the throat of his antagonist. With a shriek, the blood gus.h.i.+ng from the wound, the master of the boar fell lifeless on the stairs, his sword clattering downward. At that gruesome sight, his fellows paused irresolute, and, seeing their indecision, the jester rushed headlong upon them, striking fiercely, when their hesitation turned into panic and the knaves fairly fled. Below, the irate landlord stamped and fumed, cuffing and striking as he moved among them with threats and abuse.

"White-livered varlets! Pigeon-hearted rogues! Unmanned by a motley fool! A witling the lords beat with their slippers! Because of a chance blow against an imbecile, or a disabled man, you hesitate. A fig for them! What if they be dead? The spoil will be the greater for the rest."

Thus exhorted, the knaves once more took heart and gathered for the attack. Glaves were provided for those in front, and the _plaisant_ waited, grimly determined, yet liking little the aspect of those terrible weapons and feeling the end of the unequal contest was not far distant, when a light hand was laid on his arm.

"Follow me quickly," said Jacqueline. "We may yet escape. Don't question me, but come!" she went on hurriedly.