"Yes, I noticed that. He held his cap in his hand, as a gentleman should. It was black, with a long black plume clasped in place by a great jewel that seemed to wink at me as he talked."
"It was Charles of France!"
"It was the King!" exclaimed Marguerite and her woman in the same breath.
"Because he wore a jewel in his cap?" asked the jester. "Oh, fie! that is a common fashion."
"You have described the King's face and figure exactly," said Cunegunda.
"Since you mention it, I think it must have been the King," said the fool, "for I now recall the fact that the lady addressed him as 'Monseigneur,' a title not given to common mortals."
"Oh, what is going to happen to us now?" cried Cunegunda, in an agony of distress. "I have known all along that something dreadful was in store for us in this place."
"Then it must be a mournful satisfaction to you to know that you were not mistaken," remarked Le Glorieux.
"Do not stand there making senseless speeches," cried the Austrian woman angrily, "but try to help us out of our troubles. But why do I appeal to you? You do not care for us; you are in the service of our enemies."
The jester instantly became serious. "If danger threatens I will serve but one. I shall know no allegiance but to the princess of my own country, the daughter of my beloved mistress."