"When I left, two messages the emperor gave me," went on the other; "one for the king, the other for you." And taking from his doublet a document, weighted with a ponderous disk, the speaker handed it to the duke's fool, who silently thrust it in his breast. "Moreover, unexpectedly, but as good fortune would have it, his Majesty was even then completing preparations for a journey through France to the Netherlands, owing to unlooked-for troubles in that part of his domains, and had already despatched his envoys to the king. Charles assured me that he would still further hasten his intended visit to the Low Countries and come at once. Meanwhile his communication to the king"—tapping his breast—"will at least delay the nuptials, and, with the promise of the emperor's immediate arrival, the marriage can not occur."
"It has occurred," said the jester.
The other uttered a quick exclamation. "Then have I failed in my errand," he muttered, blankly. "But the king—had he no suspicion?"
"It was through the Countess d'Etampes the monarch was led to change the time for the festivities," spoke up Jacqueline, involuntarily.
"She!" exclaimed the poet, with a gesture of half-aversion. For some time they went on without further words; then suddenly Caillette drew rein.
"This news makes it the more necessary I should hasten to the king," he said. "The emperor's message—Francis should receive it at once. Here, therefore, must I leave you. Or, why do you not return with me?"—addressing the jester. "The letter from Charles will exonerate you and Francis will reward you in proportion to the injuries you have suffered. What say you, mistress?"
"That I will never go back," she answered, briefly, and looked away.
Caillette's perplexity was relieved by the plaisant. "Farewell, if you must leave," said the latter. "We meet again, I trust."
"The fates willing," returned the poet. "Farewell, and good fortune go with you both." And wheeling abruptly, he rode slowly back. The jester and the girl watched him disappear over the road they had come.
"A true friend," said the plaisant, as Caillette vanished in the gloom.