"Truly, you are a sorceress," he replied, with a smile. "I confess life has grown sweet."
She moved abruptly toward the door. "Nay, I meant not to offend you," he spoke up, more gently.
"It is your own fortunes you ever injure," she retorted, gazing coldly back at him.
"One moment, sweet Jacqueline. Why did you not go with the princess?"
Her face changed; grew dark; from eyes, deep and gloomy, she shot a quick glance upon him.
"Perhaps—because I like the court too well to leave it," she answered mockingly, and, vouchsafing no further word, quickly vanished. It was only when she had gone the jester suddenly remembered he had forgotten to thank her for what she had done in the past or what she proposed doing on the morrow.
CHAPTER XVII
JACQUELINE'S QUEST
"Truly, are you a right proper fool; for a man, merry in adversity, is as wise as Master Rabelais. Many the time have I heard him say a fit of laughter drives away the devil, while the groans of flagellating saints seem as music to Beelzebub's ears. Thus, a wit-cracker is the demon's enemy, and the band of Pantagruel, an evangelical brotherhood, that with tankard and pot sends the arch-fiend back to the bottomless pit."