"Where," he said to the man, "do you keep the King and Sully and Epernon, my friend?"
"The King and Sully—with the lordship's leave," said the man quickly, with a frightened glance at me—"are in the kennels at the back of the house, but it is not safe to go near them. The King is raving mad, and—and the other dog is sickening. Epernon we had to kill a month back. He brought the disease here, and I have had such losses through him as have nearly ruined me, please your lordship."
"Get up—get up, man!" cried the king, and tearing off his mask he stamped up and down the room, so torn by paroxysms of laughter that he choked himself when again and again he attempted to speak.
I too now saw the mistake, but I could not at first see it in the same light. Commanding myself as well as I could, I ordered one of the Swiss to fetch in the innkeeper, but to admit no one else.
The knave fell on his knees as soon as he saw me, his cheeks shaking like a jelly.
"Mercy, mercy!" was all he could say.
"You have dared to play with me?" I whispered.
"You bade me joke," he sobbed, "you bade me."
I was about to say that it would be his last joke in this world—for my anger was fully aroused—when the king intervened.
"Nay," he said, laying his hand softly on my shoulder. "It has been the most glorious jest. I would not have missed it for a kingdom. I command you, Sully, to forgive him."