"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 muffled 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 passage, 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 assassin.
At the door of the jestress' room it paused. The fool lifted his blade; the form passed 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.