Under the Rose

by Frederic Stewart Isham

"Triboulet. That is, he procured the duke's signature to the writ."

"And you think the duke a party to this farce, my Lord?" said the fool, with assumed composure. "It has not occurred to you that before the day is over all the village will be laughing at the spectacle of their commandant—pardon me—being led by the nose by a jester?"

The officer's sun-burned face became yet redder; he frowned, then glanced suspiciously at Triboulet, whose reputation was France-wide.

"This man was the duke's fool," screamed the dwarf, "and was imprisoned by order of the king. His companion who is here with him was formerly jestress to the princess. She is a sorceress and bewitched the monarch. Then her fancy seized upon the heretic, and, by her dark art, she opened the door of the cell for him. Together they fled; she from the court, he from prison."

The commandant looked curiously from the hunchback to the accused. If this were acting, the dwarf was indeed a master of the art.

"Besides, his haste to leave the village," eagerly went on Triboulet. "Why was he dressed at this hour? Ask the landlord if he did not seem unduly hurried?"

At this appeal the innkeeper, who had been an interested spectator, now became a not unwilling witness.

"It is true he seemed hurried," he answered. "When he first came down he ordered breakfast. I happened to mention the duke was at the château, whereupon he lost his appetite with suspicious suddenness, called for his horses, and was for riding off with all haste."

From the commandant's expression this testimony apparently removed any doubts he may have entertained. Above the heads of the troopers massed in the doorway the duke's plaisant saw Jacqueline, standing on the stairs, with wide-open, dark eyes fastened upon him. Involuntarily he lifted his hand to his heart; across the brief space glance melted into glance.

Persecuted Calvin maid—had not her fate been untoward enough without this new disaster? Had not the king wrought sufficient ill to her and hers in the past? Would she be sent back to the court; the monarch? For himself he had no thought, but for her, who was nobler even than her birthright. He had been thrice a fool who had not heeded portentous warnings—the sight of Triboulet, the clamor of the troopers—and had failed to flee during the night. As he realized the penalty of his negligence would fall so heavily upon her, a cry of rage burst from the fool's lips and he sprang toward his aggressors. The young girl became yet whiter; a moment she clung to the baluster; then started to descend the stairs. A dozen swords flashed before her eyes.