"Ay; you will lose much by being a duke instead of a martyr," said Jean.
Count Felix roused himself with a sudden effort. This was not the time for fears or dismal forebodings, and he struck the gong upon his table. He had much to do, many persons to see, many things to arrange; and Jean sat there while all this business was transacted, welcoming and dismissing each person with a little musical shake of his fool's bauble. Most of them laughed at him, a few were angry, but it made no difference to the dwarf.
Presently the Count rose.
"Play the fool where you will, Jean, until evening; I go to see the Countess Elisabeth, and I will not take you with me."
"Are you jealous?" asked the dwarf.
"No."
"I'll go and see Christine de Liancourt," said Jean. "I warrant I shall have a hearty welcome. Art jealous now?"
"A little, perhaps."
"She might have liked you as a martyr," chuckled the dwarf. "Oh, I grant you, being a fool has its advantages." And he shook his bauble as the Count passed out of the room.