"Go slowly, my Lord, and I will tell you. I saw the fool and another jester with their heads together," continued the trooper in a low tone. "They were standing in front of the jesters' tent. You bade me watch him. So I entered their pavilion at the back. Making pretext to be looking for a gusset for an armor joint, I made my way near the entrance. There, bending over barbet pieces, I overheard fragments of their conversation. It even bore on your designs."
"A conversation on my designs! He has then dared—"
"All, my Lord. A scheming knave! After I had heard enough, I gathered up a skirt of tassets—"
"What did you hear?" said the other, impatiently.
"A plan by which he hoped to let the emperor know—"
A loud flourish of trumpets near them interrupted the free baron's informer, and when the clarion tones had ceased it was the master who spoke. "There's time but for a word now. Come to my tent afterward. Meanwhile," he went on, hurriedly, "direct a lance at the fool—"
"But, my Lord," expostulated the man, quickly, "the jesters only are to oppose one another."
"It will pass for an accident. Francis likes him not, and will clear you of unknightly conduct, if—" He finished with a boldly significant look, which was not lost upon his man.
"Even if the leaden disk should fall from my lance and leave the point bare?" said the trooper, hoarsely.
"Even that!" responded the free baron, hastily.