"And the cups of horn, Philippeau," cried his lord, "and the wooden platters--did you mark them? Oh, they were well worthy the viands they contained!"
"So say I, beau sire," replied the living echo. "May they never contain any thing better!--for château and châtelain, dinner and dishes, were all of a piece."
"And think of his dreaming that I would go against the honest cotereaux with him!" cried the youth--"risking my horse and my life, and losing my time: all to rid his land of some scores of men as brave as himself, I dare say, and a great deal richer. 'Twould have been a rare folly, indeed!"
"So say I, beau sire," rejoined the inevitable Philippeau; "that would have been turning his man before he had shown himself your master.--Ha, ha, ha!"
"Haw, haw, haw!" shouted a voice in answer, whose possessor remained for a moment invisible. The next instant, however, the legs of a man appeared dangling from one of the trees, a few yards before them; then down dropped his body at the extent of his arms; and, letting himself fall like a piece of lead, Gallon the fool stood motionless in their way.
"Ha!" cried Guillaume de la Roche, drawing forward what was called his aumonière[[17]], a sort of pouch by his side, and taking out a couple of pieces of gold, "Our good jongleur come for his guerdon!--Hold, fellow!" and he cast the money to Gallon the fool, who caught each piece before it fell to the ground.
"Haw, haw! haw, haw!" cried Gallon. "Gramercy, beau sire! gramercy! Now will I tell thee a piece of news," he continued in his abrupt and unconnected manner,--"a piece of news that never should you have heard but for these two pieces of gold. Your lady love is at the castle of the Sire de Montmorency. Speed thither fast, and you shall win her yet.--Haw, haw! Do you understand? Win her old father first. Tell him of your broad lands, and your rich castles; for old Sir Julian loves gold, as if it paved the way to heaven.--Haw, haw, haw! When his love is won, never fear but that his daughter's will come after; and then, all because thou hast broad lands enough of thine own, thou shall have all good Count Julian's to back them,--Haw, haw! haw, haw! Thus it is we give to those that want not; and to those who want, we spit in their face--a goodly gift!--Haw, haw! The world is mad, not I--'tis but the mishap of being single in one's opinion!--Haw, haw, haw!" and darting away into the forest without staying farther question, he was soon lost to their sight.
No sooner, however, had Gallon the fool assured himself that he was out of reach of pursuit, than suddenly stopping, he cast himself on the ground, and rolled over and over two or three times, while he made the wood ring with his laughter. "Now have I murdered him!--now have I slaughtered him!--now have I given his throat to the butcher!" cried he, "as sure as if I held his head under knock-me-down De Coucy's battle-axe!--now will he go and buy the old fool Julian's consent and promise, for gold and rich furniture.--Haw, haw, haw! Then will Isadore refuse; and let the De Coucy know.--Haw, haw! Then will De Coucy come with lance and shield, and provoke my gallant to the fight, which for his knighthood he dare not refuse--then will my great man-slayer, my iron-fisted singer of songs, crush me this tiny, smoothed-faced, quaint apparelled imp of Provence, as I've seen a great eater crunch a lark.--Haw, haw! haw, haw! And all for having tweaked my nose, though none of them know any thing about it! He will insult my countenance no more, I trow, when the velvet black moles are digging through his cold heart with their white hands. Ah, cursed countenance!" he cried as if seized with some sudden emotion of rage, and striking his clenched fist hard upon his hideous face--"Ah, cursed countenance! thou hast brought down upon me mock and mimicry, hatred and contempt! Every thing is loved--every thing is sought--every thing is admired, but I; and I am fled from by all that see me. I am hated, and I hate myself--I am the devil--surely I am the devil!--and if so, I will enjoy my reign.--Beware! beware! ye that mock me; for I will live by gnawing your hearts--I will, I will!--Haw, haw!--that I will!" and suddenly bounding up, he caught one of the large boughs above his head, swung himself backward and forward for a minute in the air; and then springing forward, with a loud screaming laugh, flew back to the castle like an arrow shot from a bow.
CHAPTER XIV.
We must now return for a time to the château of Compiègne, in one of the principal chambers of which, surrounded by a bevy of fair maids, sat Agnes de Meranie, bending her graceful head over an embroidery frame. As far as one might judge from the lively colours upon the ground of white satin, she was engaged in working a coat of arms; and she plied her small fingers busily as if in haste. Her maids also were all fully engaged, each in some occupation which had in a degree a reference to that of the queen. One richly embroidered a sword belt with threads of gold; another wove a golden fringe for the coat of arms; and a third was equally intent in tracing various symbols on a banner.