"What! is he pinched with avarice?" cried De Coucy. "Have ten years had power to change a free and noble spirit to the miser's griping slavery? My curse upon time! for he not only saps our castles, and unbends out sinews, but he casts down the bulwarks of the mind, and plunders all the better feelings of our hearts. What say you, lady, is he not a true coterel--that old man with his scythe and hour-glass?"
"He is a bitter enemy, but a true one," replied Isadore of the Mount. "He comes not upon us without warning.--But your man seems impatient to tell out his tale, sir knight; at least, so I read the faces he makes."
"Bless your sweet lips!" cried the jongleur; "you are the first, that ever saw my face, that called me man. Devil or fool are the best names that I get. Prithee, marry my master, and then I shall be your man."
De Coucy's heart beat thick at the associations which the juggler's words called up; and the tell-tale blood stole over the fair face of Isadore of the Mount; while old Sir Julian laughed loud, and called it a marvellous good jest.
"Come!" cried De Coucy, "leave thy grimaces, and tell me, what said my uncle? Why would he not send the sums I asked?"
"He said nothing," replied the juggler. "Haw, haw haw!--He said nothing, because he is dead, and----"
"Hold! hold!" cried De Coucy;--"Dead! God help me, and I taxed him with avarice. Fool, thou hast made me sin against his memory. How did he die?--when--where?"
"Nobody knows when--nobody knows where--nobody knows how!" replied the juggler with a grin which he could not suppress at his master's grief. "All they know is, that he is as dead as the saints at Jerusalem; and the king and the Duke of Burgundy are quarrelling about his broad lands, which the two fools call moveables! He is dead!--quite dead!--Haw, haw, haw! Haw, haw!"
"Laughest thou, villain!" cried De Coucy, starting up, and striking him a buffet which made him reel to the other side of the hut. "Let that teach thee not to laugh where other men weep!--By my life," he added, taking his seat again, "he was as noble a gentlemen, and as true a knight, as ever buckled on spurs. He promised that I should be his heir, and doubtless he has kept his word; but, for all the fine lands he has left me--nay, nor for broad France itself, would I have heard the news that have reached me but now!"
"Haw, haw, haw! Haw, haw, haw!" echoed from the other side of the hut.