"The audience is at an end," he said. "We have too much to attend to to-day to see any more of you. The Count is tired; and has gone to rest a little."
"My Lord Misshapen, won't you attend to us?" said one.
"My unique limbs also require rest; still, what would you have? We know nothing against you."
"A high place at court, to which my love for you entitles me," said the man.
"What say you to a rope over the great gate?" said Jean. "It is the most prominent place I can think of."
The man's hand went suddenly to his sword hilt.
"If you draw sword on me," said Jean, tapping him on the arm with his bauble, making the bells jingle, "you are likely to earn your high place rather easily."
The laugh was turned against the man, and the dwarf passed on.
"It is very well to jest," mused Jean as he crossed the court-yard, "but I'm likely to hang yonder over the gate myself if anything goes wrong in the next few hours."