The Court Jester

  CHAPTER VI

  LADY CLOTILDE'S MOONSTONE PENDANT

  The next morning a royal messenger arrived with a letter for the littleprincess, and Le Glorieux, who was present when she received it, sawthat tears were rolling down her cheeks when she had finished readingit. "What is it, little Cousin?" asked the jester. "Strange that a merepiece of paper should stir you up like this."

  "Oh, Le Glorieux," cried Marguerite, "my father does not love me!" Andcovering her face with her handkerchief, she burst into sobs.

  "Well, now that is another strange thing," said he, sitting down at herfeet and clasping his hands about his knees, while he surveyed herthoughtfully. "His Royal Highness takes the trouble to send a messengeracross the country to tell his little daughter that he does not loveher, when it would have been so much easier to let this wonderful pieceof news wait until he stood face to face with her."

  The princess patted her foot impatiently on the floor while the jesterwas speaking, then she said, restraining her sobs with an effort, "Ihave been so impatient to see him that I could scarcely wait for thedays to pass, and every morning when I have wakened during our journeyI have said to myself, 'One more day is off the list, and I am so manymore leagues nearer to him than I was at this time yesterday.' Andalthough the Countess Von Hohenberg is very kind, and has begged me toremain here for a time, still I wanted to go this very day," and againshe began to sob.

  "Yes," said the jester, "I understand your side of the question, and nowI wonder if you won't tell me just what Max writes in his letter, and Iwill help you to decide just what he means by it."

  "He--he--s-s-ays that we are to remain at Castle Hohenberg for three orfour days in order that I may recover from the fatigue of the journey.It is c-c-cruel!"

  "It certainly is very cruel," replied Le Glorieux. "Odd that thereshould be such unnatural fathers in the world! A man must have a heartof flint to want his daughter to rest after a long journey."

  "I do not at all consider this a subject for jest," said the littlelady, surveying the jester indignantly through her tears.

  "Looking at the matter broadly, I should say that it was just as much asubject for jesting as for weeping. Will your small Highness tell mewhat there is in all this to cry about? Do you not know that it is veryfoolish to cry about little things, and that the tears of even aprincess are just as salt as those of anybody else, and if called up inabundance will make her eyes and nose just as red as those of a dairymaid who cries over a pail of spilled milk?"

  "Le Glorieux," said Marguerite solemnly, "if my father is as anxious tosee me as I am to see him, he would write 'Hurry, hurry,' in his letterinstead of telling me to wait."

  "Would you write 'Hurry, hurry,' to him if he were coming to you on atiresome trip?"

  "Indeed I would! I would say, 'Hurry, and hurry, and hurry again, for Ilong to embrace you.' Only think, I have lived for eight long years withno one near me but Cunegunda who really loves me, and none of my ownblood to touch my brow with a kiss!"

  "I do not know," said the fool reflectively, "how I should feel werethere none near me to love me save Cunegunda, but I need not worry aboutthat, for Cunegunda, if I read her aright, is not burned up withaffection for me; but what you say proves to me that you are not reallyso fond of your father as he is of you."

  "You are dreaming; what do you mean by such words?" asked the princess,wiping her eyes and looking haughtily at the jester. "I adore my father;he is dearer to me than all the crowns of the world."

  "It is this way," said Le Glorieux; "as I remark probably once a daymore or less, I am nothing but a fool, but nevertheless I say a goodmany wise things, and I think a good many more. Very often when Iremain perfectly quiet my silence counts for a good deal, for I amthinking very hard about something. But as I was going to say, when onehas the right kind of affection for another, there is not a grain ofselfishness in it. Your father is just as anxious to see you as you areto see him, still at the same time he thinks of your comfort first andof his own wishes next."

  "Do you think so, really?" asked Marguerite, smiling, then asked, "Butwhy could he not have come to me himself instead of sending amessenger?"

  "Kings and princes can not go about as they please, though they arealways supposed to be doing what they like to do," replied Le Glorieux."A king can not even marry to please himself. He may say, 'I do not wanta wife, I prefer to be a bachelor.' The state says, 'Not a bit of it;you must marry.' Then the state picks out a wife for him. If she ispretty and agreeable he is lucky, but if she has a horrible squint andthe temper of a tigress and the state says, 'Marry her,' why, marry herhe must. Just now your father is probably cooking up a lot of schemesagainst France for its treatment of you and himself, and he is tellingSpain and England how dearly he always loved them, and he is figuringout the lands that France ought to restore to him in return for hisgreat disappointment, so he has no time to rush away to see his littledaughter."

  "Oh, Le Glorieux, you have made me so happy!" cried the princess, withshining eyes. "Then you think my father really is very fond of me!"

  "I am sure of it, and I am sure that he will be still fonder of you whenhe sees you, for two reasons: one is that you look a good deal likehimself, and the other that you will look at him with the very eyes ofyour mother."

  "The marriage of my father and mother was a happy one, was it not, LeGlorieux?"

  "Yes, little Cousin, that was one of the times when duty and inclinationwent hand in hand. That marriage was the best possible thing for boththeir countries, and the young couple were in love with each other fromthe moment when they first stood face to face, your beautiful motherbeing just a young slip of a girl, and your father but eighteen years ofage. He was only twenty-three when she died, and he is still a youngman, not so far past the first bloom of his youth."

  The princess never tired of talking of her father and of her fair youngmother, whose faces were known to her only from their portraits. Herbrother, who was two years her senior, she often thought about, but itwas her father who possessed the larger share of her affection.

  It has been remarked of the Lady Clotilde that she always contrived tostir up some kind of commotion wherever she happened to be, and thisjourney was no exception to the general rule. The story of the emeraldgirdle, related by the countess the previous night, reminded the LadyClotilde that she too owned a jewel which was said to bring good luck toher family, and the loss of which was to be followed by results toofearful to contemplate. It was a large moonstone, set as a pendant andsurrounded by rubies. It had been curiously cut by an old Italianlapidary of the previous century, and represented a woman's face, whichseemed to change its expression as the colors glimmering in the stonecaught the light. This ornament had a great fascination for Le Glorieux.In former days when the Lady Clotilde had wished a special favor fromCharles the Bold, she often managed to obtain it through Le Glorieux,who would first make his master laugh, and then while he was in thisgenial frame of mind the jester would present his petition in thecleverest way it could be framed. And being too penurious to reward heragent with a piece of money, the lady would say, "Le Glorieux, you mayclean my jewels, for I know it must be a great pleasure to you to holdthem in the sunlight and see them flash," and, while pretending to granta favor to the jester, managed to gain one for herself.

  Of all her trinkets, and she had many and valuable ones, none so charmedthe fool as the moonstone pendant. Held in certain lights, the faceseemed to dimple and smile upon him; in others, it was the face of awitch, or a gorgon, those dreadful beings the very sight of which wouldturn mortals into stone.

  This ornament the Lady Clotilde was resolved to show to the countess,and descant on its history and its great value. With eager hands sheunlocked the box of scented wood where the ornament was kept, and lo,the pendant was missing! Could she believe her eyes? In an agony ofanxiety she tossed the jewels about, finally emptying the contents ofthe casket on the bed, where they flashed and glimmered like captivestars sending forth red, blue,
and green lights. Frantically she pickedthem up one by one and shook them, but no moonstone was there!

  "It is gone, it is gone!" groaned the Lady Clotilde]

  "It is gone, it is gone!" groaned the Lady Clotilde; then she sank tothe floor and began to think of the many terrible things that might beexpected to happen to that unlucky member of the family who should allowthe stone to go out of his or her possession, the very thought of whichmade her tremble with terror. Calming herself at last, she reflectedthat some one must have taken the pendant, since such articles do notrise of their own accord, climb out of their boxes, and go swaggeringabout the world like a knight in search of adventure. And now thequestion was, who had taken it? She was sure that none but her ownattendants had been near her room, but stay! a maid belonging to thecountess had entered the room shortly after their arrival to bring a cupof hot mulled wine which the Lady Clotilde always required, ordesired, which amounted to the same thing with her, after a journey incold weather. She remembered that she had opened the casket and was justabout to take out her ruby chain, which she considered a most becomingornament for her more than generous length of neck, when the maidentered with the wine, and the girl must have slipped the moonstone fromthe box while the lady was sipping the contents of the cup. She recalledthe appearance of the maid, a pale young creature with large startleddark eyes. She no doubt had thought that among so many handsome trinketsthe loss of one never would be noticed by this rich and noble lady. Theminx would find herself mistaken, however, for the Lady Clotilde wasdetermined to report her loss at once, and to recover her property if itshould become necessary to tear the castle down, stone by stone, inorder to find it!

  As it never had been her custom to delay after making a plan, sheimmediately stalked down the stone steps leading to the floor below, andentering the salon where the countess and her guests were whiling awaythe time at cards or with their embroidery, she advanced at once to herhostess. "Madame," said she, "I have lost a jewel. A valuable heirloomwhich has been in my possession, or rather in that of my family, for ahundred years, has disappeared from my casket."

  "I am deeply grieved to hear it, Madame," said the countess, rising toher feet, "and I sincerely hope that you will be so fortunate as to findit again."

  "I _will_ be so fortunate as to find it again--I will, I will in spiteof everything," replied the Lady Clotilde excitedly.

  "Pray calm yourself, Cousin Clotilde," said Le Glorieux, who waslounging in the window seat. "Try to collect yourself, else I am afraidyou will go into a fit. The veins in your forehead are as big as mysmallest finger, and you are quite purple in the face."

  "Anything that we can do to recover your jewel for you shall be donemost gladly, Madame," said the countess. "I will send servants to yourapartments to search for it."

  "There have been too many of your servants in my apartments already,"retorted the other rudely. "I want no searching there; I want theculprit searched and brought to justice as quickly as possible."

  "Most assuredly, if we can discover who the culprit is."

  "I know who it is," cried the Lady Clotilde. "It is that pale creaturewho came yesterday afternoon with my mulled wine, a girl with big darkeyes."

  "Oh, that was Cimburga; she would not rob you of your gems, Madame. Sheis an orphan whose parents and grandparents died in our service. She canbe thoroughly trusted. Without counting it, I should not be afraid toleave a lapful of gold in her care."

  "Your confidence does but little honor to your judgment, Madame," saidthe injured one, "and what I have lost is of far more consequence than alapful of gold."

  Le Glorieux left his place in the window and came forward, saying, "Youseem to be in a terrible state of mind, Cousin Clotilde; I have not seenyou in such agitation since the news came to Burgundy of the battle ofNancy. What is the gewgaw which you seem to have valued as life itself?"

  "It was the moonstone pendant. You know what it means to me to lose it."

  "What, the carved lady who winks her eyes while you look at her?"

  The Lady Clotilde nodded.

  "This is indeed serious," remarked the jester. "If you but knew, MadameCountess, of the awful things written down to happen to the lastpossessor of that stone, you would be chilled to the bone. Why, death byslow strangulation would be a pleasure to some of the tortures she willsuffer if she does not find it again."

  "Some, in fact most, of those old traditions are mere myths," said thecountess reassuringly.

  "You do not consider them myths when they are connected with yourgirdle," returned Lady Clotilde tartly.

  "At any rate the article must be found if possible," said the countess."Are you very sure, Madame, that you had it when you came here?"

  "Of course I am sure that I had it when I came here! Since we leftAmboise no one has touched my valuables save myself."

  "If you are sure of that, then, no one is to blame for having mislaid itsave yourself," said the jester.

  "It has not been mislaid; it has been stolen," cried the Lady Clotildein the highest key of indignation. "I heard that black-eyed girl takeit."

  "You mean Cimburga?" asked the countess.

  "If that is what you call her, yes."

  "That girl would not steal," said Le Glorieux. "I watched her thismorning while she was feeding the doves. They ate from her hand andperched on her shoulders, and she laughed like a little child. She is asinnocent as the doves themselves."

  "What do you know about it?" asked the Lady Clotilde. "There is nosubject in this world about which you do not give your opinion."

  "Why not, since I have plenty of opinions and all are welcome to them?"

  "I tell you that black-eyed girl is the one who stole my jewel!"

  "Pray calm yourself, my dear lady, and let us get at the bottom of thisaffair," said the countess soothingly. "You say that you heard Cimburgatake the ornament. Was it in the night? If so, you may have beendreaming."

  "Suppose it had been in the night, the fact that my pendant is missingwould show that I was not dreaming, would it not?" asked the LadyClotilde with some reason. "But I was not asleep; on the contrary, itwas while I was drinking my hot wine with the girl waiting that myvaluable disappeared." The idea that Cimburga had robbed her was now sothoroughly fixed in the lady's mind that she was almost ready to assertthat she had seen the girl take it from the box. "I had sent my tiringwoman to the bedchamber of Lady Ravenstein to borrow a needleful of goldthread, for the trimming of my bodice was slightly frayed and neededmending. During her absence I opened my casket to select the jewels bestsuited to wear with my change of costume. Just then the girl enteredwith the wine, which I turned to drink, and I now recall that I hearddistinctly a slight click behind me, as the jewels would have rattled ifdisturbed, and to-day my precious heirloom is missing."

  "It was missing then, if somebody took it then," remarked the jester."But stay, can a thing be missing until somebody misses it? I shall haveto think that out carefully some day when I have more time."

  "Let us say nothing to Cimburga about it until we have searched," saidthe countess. She left the room and was absent for some time. When shereturned, she said, "I went to the dormitory where all the maids sleepand searched everywhere and all through Cimburga's poor little effects,but no jewel of any kind did I find. There was a wooden cross attachedto a black ribband which she wears on Sundays and fete days, but thatwas all in the way of a trinket that could be seen."

  "Is it reasonable to suppose that a girl who could slyly filch myproperty would put it where it could be found?" asked the Lady Clotilde.

  "Is there anything unusual in the girl's manner?" asked Lady Ravenstein,one of Marguerite's suite, who had remained perfectly quiet up to thistime. "If this be her first offense she may betray herself by anagitated manner."

  "She has seemed unhappy to-day," the countess admitted reluctantly. "Istopped her a moment ago in the hall leading to the servants' quarters,and I noticed that there were tears on her cheeks."

  "I was sure of it!"
cried the Lady Clotilde. "She was crying because shewas afraid she would be discovered. I insist that she be brought beforeus and that she be accused of her crime."

  "But let her not be accused harshly," said the little princess, who hadbeen listening intently to all that had been said. "The maid may not beguilty; but if so, and it is her first offense, let us be merciful."

  "All I ask is my moonstone pendant, your Highness," said the LadyClotilde. "And although I think she should be severely punished fortaking it from me, still she is not my servant and I have no right toinsist upon her chastisement."

  A page was sent to notify Cimburga that she was wanted, and she came atonce, glancing about the room to see what there was for her hands to do,for she supposed that she had been sent for to perform a task.

  "Let me question her, Madame," said the Lady Clotilde, and reluctantlythe countess consented to oblige her guest, though she felt that shecould best have managed the matter herself.

  "What have you done with the locket you took from my casket yesterdayafternoon?" asked the Lady Clotilde harshly.

  The girl, who was pretty, and timid as a fawn of the wildwood, openedwide her eyes, and, gazing at the questioner in surprise, made no reply.

  "I say," went on her tormentor in a louder tone, "what did you do withthe ornament you took from my box yesterday? You slipped it out, youknow, while I was sipping the wine you brought me."

  "I, lady? I do not know of what you are speaking," replied Cimburga, inamazement.

  "You know perfectly well of what I am speaking. You took it from mycasket, I heard you, though you may think I did not, and now where isit?"

  "I know nothing of it, Madame."

  "Come now, that kind of a reply will not do. You have my moonstone inyour possession and you must restore it to me at once."

  "Madame, I am telling you the truth; I never have taken the smallestthing that did not belong to me, and of that my lady mistress willassure you."

  "I can attest the truth of that statement, Cimburga," said her mistressgently, "but if you have been tempted by the sparkle of gems,--and youhave a girl's love for things that glitter, even though you are in alowly walk in life,--if you have taken the lady's ornament, as she seemscertain that you have done, restore it to her. And this being your firstoffense, I promise you that your punishment shall be light."

  "But, my mistress, how can I restore what I have not taken?" asked thegirl simply.

  "Talk about this being her first offense; if so, I am quite sure it willnot be her last one, for she is as hardened as one old in crime," saidthe Lady Clotilde.

  Then her mistress said, turning to the girl, "If you are innocent, ifyour conscience does not trouble you, why were you weeping thismorning?"

  Cimburga made no reply, but putting her apron to her face, began to sob.

  "Come, answer me," said the countess gently.

  "My dear and gracious mistress, do not ask me why I was weeping, for Ican not tell you," sobbed the girl.

  "You might as well tell us," said the Lady Clotilde, "for we are boundto know it sooner or later."

  "I will never tell, I will go to my death first," said the girldesperately.

  "You deserve to go to your death, since you are so stubborn," said theLady Clotilde vindictively. "But give me back my jewel, and you shall betroubled no more so far as I am concerned."

  "I can not give you what I have not got. I call upon all the saints towitness that I know nothing of the object which you have lost."

  "She does but blaspheme," said the Lady Clotilde coldly. "Let her behanded over to the law."

  The punishment for all kinds of crime was most severe at this time, andit is no wonder that Cimburga sobbed convulsively as she was taken fromthe room.

  This unfortunate incident cast a gloom over the company. It was easy tosee that the countess was unhappy about the accusation that had beenmade against the young girl who was under her own protection. The LadyClotilde was sulky and restless, while the others seemed to be puzzledby what had happened. When the gentlemen, who had been hunting, returnedto the castle, they were told of the occurrence of the morning, and mostof those who gave an opinion were inclined to agree with the owner ofthe jewel that Cimburga was guilty, even the count expressing gravedoubts as to her innocence. Cimburga was nothing but a servant,therefore was more than likely to be the thief.

  "I wish," said Le Glorieux to Philibert, "that we had left Clotilde inFrance. I have been acquainted with her for a number of years, and Ihave never known a time when there was not some kind of agitation on heraccount. She is always just coming, or just going, or is looking forsomething that she can not find, or is doing something or other to makeeverybody around her restless. She is like a whirlwind that picks upleaves and sticks and slams them about. I know that she is yourrelative, but that is not your fault, my lad, and I respect you none theless for it. We should be judged by our friends and not by ourrelatives, for we select our own friends. It is a great pity that we arenot allowed to select our own relatives too, since we are obliged to seeso much of them. I know plenty of people who would have an entire newset of relatives if the thing could be managed."

  "Le Glorieux," said Philibert, "I do not believe that the maid stole themoonstone any more than that I took it myself."

  "I am not so sure that she is innocent," said Antoine. "Why should shehave been weeping at such a rate?"

  "Why should anybody weep?" asked Philibert. "For a hundred things. It isno sign because people have been crying that they have also beenstealing."

  "Let us ask Saint Monica if Cimburga is guilty," suggested the countessthe following day. "Our Saint Monica is wonderful," continued she,turning to her guests. "She was placed in her present position by oneof the Countesses Von Hohenberg, whose prayers for the reformation of anundutiful son were answered, for you know Saint Monica herself knowswhat it is to weep for a dissipated son, being the mother of the blessedSaint Augustine, who was very wild until miraculously changed to asaint. They say that when persons accused of a crime are made to passbefore her their innocence or guilt may be proven at once, for ifinnocent the saint will make a sign, but if guilty she will remainimmovable."

  "Has she ever been seen to move when put to the test?" asked the LadyClotilde.

  "Never in our time," said the count, replying to the question. "In mygrandfather's time it is said that a youth, accused of stealing a goldimage from the chapel, passed before the saint and asked if he wasinnocent, and she raised her hand and bowed her head. Many others havetried it since, but they were all guilty, for the saint made no sign."

  "We will put Cimburga to the test to-night," said the countess. "Themoon will be bright by ten o'clock, and at that time we shall not haveso many spectators as we should have during the day."

  They started out to see this wonderful saint]

  Le Glorieux and the two boys started out to see this wonderful saint.She stood in the forest within a five minutes' walk from the castle, infront of a great oak. She was a painted wooden figure about five feet inheight, and she had been scorched by the summer sun and pelted byrainstorms until her garments were all a dull gray, her face, partlyconcealed by her nun's coif, wearing a self-satisfied simper not at allconsistent with her garb.

  "The good saint is not a tall woman," said Philibert, eying hercritically. He walked all around the figure, mounted a stone behind it,and examined it closely. "Some day she will move when they least expectit," he said, "for she is not secure on her pedestal, and a storm willblow her over."

  In spite of the fact that a late hour had been set for the visit to thesaint, and the matter was supposed to be a secret carefully kept fromthe servants, when the time came to start a curious crowd gathered andfollowed the supposed culprit, her master and mistress and their guests,to the statue of Saint Monica.

  By Cimburga's side walked a tall young man who was said to be themiller's son, and whose presence beside the accused was viewed withconsiderable astonishment by those who knew him, for his father waswe
ll-to-do, and his station was above that of Cimburga. The face of thegirl was radiant with happiness, and those who observed her tranquilcountenance wondered why she exhibited so little agitation at a timewhen she might be supposed to be in a state of despair.

  It was a very solemn procession that walked out on that moonlight night.At present there exist comparatively few people who would expect awooden saint to move, even from a motive so noble as to prove theinnocence of an accused person; but, as has already been said, manystrange things were believed in the fifteenth century.

  Even all whispering ceased as they approached the saint. The princess,warmly wrapped in fur, was riding a little mule, and as Le Glorieuxwalked beside her she slipped a cold hand into his with a shiver offear, and all stepped softly over the frosty ground as if fearful ofsomething, they knew not what. The wind swept through the trees,rustling the dry leaves. Was the saint already moving? No, it was onlythe shadow of a limb, which, stirred by the wind, swayed above her head.

  "Hist!" said the castle chaplain, though there was no need to call forsilence, as none at that moment felt in the least like talking. Then, ina solemn voice, the priest invoked the saint to deign to decide the fateof the accused maiden then standing before her. Was she innocent of thesin of theft?

  He paused, there was a breathless moment of expectancy, then _SaintMonica really did move_. There was no doubt about it. She bowed her headand raised her right hand! All saw her do it, as they would tell theirchildren, and their children's children, for years to come. The priestmurmured some words in Latin, then all returned immediately to thecastle, for none seemed inclined to remain in the neighborhood of thesaint who so kindly had set their minds at rest. All gathered in thechapel, where a Te Deum was sung, as it had been sung for the first timewhen the son of Saint Monica was converted.

  As soon as the exercises in the chapel were concluded the littleprincess retired to her own apartments, whispering to Le Glorieux as shepassed him, "Bring Cimburga and the miller's son to me, and let no oneelse accompany you."

  Marveling at this summons, and wondering what the daughter of theirfuture emperor could have to say to them, now that Saint Monica haddecided in the girl's favor, settling the question of her innocence, theyoung couple followed the jester. The Lady Marguerite had dismissed evenCunegunda, and was all alone when they entered the room. She sat in alarge chair, and in a rather unprincess-like fashion, for she had beenchilled in the cold chapel, and she had drawn her feet up under thefolds of her velvet gown. After the young couple had knelt at her feet,and had saluted her according to the custom of the time, she bade themstand before her, and Le Glorieux said with great frankness, "I willleave the room if you say so, little Princess; but to be strictly honestabout it, I should like mightily to stay and hear what you have to sayto these young folk, and you may be sure that I shall not mention it toa soul."

  "It is not a secret," replied the princess; "I was only afraid thatthey might be embarrassed by an audience."

  "They will not be embarrassed by my presence," said he quickly, "for afool in a room is of no more importance than a cat."

  "You make yourself of small account when it is to gain your own ends,but stay, if you like," she returned, laughing.

  "And as I do like, I will stay," he returned, sitting down on the floorbeside her chair.

  The young couple, standing, blushing and abashed before her, gazed withawe at the little maiden, who seemed almost lost in the embrace of thehuge chair in which she sat. But when they saw that her eyes were softand shining, that her lips were curved into a friendly smile, theyforgot for the moment that she was of royal blood, and would, doubtless,one day wear the crown of a mighty kingdom. A silver griffin of a sconcenear by held a light in its claws, which fell full upon Cimburga and themiller's son. The latter was tall and straight, with an honest, noblecountenance, and certainly there were many ladies who were not half sopretty as Cimburga. The little princess wondered why these humble peopleshould be so handsome, and concluded that the good God had given thempersonal comeliness to make up for lack of worldly goods, for certainlythe athletic figure of the youth could have been no handsomer clad invelvet and satin than in the plain garments he now wore, and the flashof jewels could have made the eyes of Cimburga no brighter than theywere at this moment.

  "Your name is Cimburga?" said Marguerite, addressing the girl; "that isa Polish name."

  "Yes, your Highness, it is the name of my grandmother, who was born inPoland, and who was given the name of the mother of his ImperialMajesty, the grandfather of your gracious Highness."

  "That is a mixture of relatives that makes my head ache," observed LeGlorieux.

  "Then it may be wise for you to leave the room," replied the princessslyly.

  "If I did anything wise I would not be a fool," he returned; "thereforeI stay."

  "It is true," said Marguerite, "that my great grandmother was Cimburgaof Poland, and it is from her, they say, that the archduke, my father,inherited his great physical strength. And now, Cimburga, I want you toanswer my questions and do not be afraid, for no harm shall come to youfrom anything you may say to me. That you did not commit the crime ofwhich you are accused we all know now, and I felt from the first, butwhy had you been crying even before you were accused?"

  The girl dropped her eyes and a very pretty color dyed her cheeks.

  "Your Highness," she faltered, playing restlessly with the cord thatlaced her bodice, "it was because I was afraid that Karl and I couldnever wed. His father, your Highness, is a miller and a man of means,and he wishes his son to marry the weaver's daughter, who can bring hima dowry, while I have nothing. And I had reason to believe that he wasready to obey his father; but when this great trouble was sent upon mehe came to say that he cared only for me, that he believed in myinnocence, and that he would stand by my side let happen what would. Andafter that, your Highness, I was not afraid of anything that mightcome."

  "Karl is a worthy youth," said the princess. "I have heard my goodconfessor say that there is nothing more beautiful in this world thanthe love that brings our friends to our side when fortune frowns, andthat good friends are the stars that shine all the brighter when nightis darkest. But it is not right to disobey one's parents, and you wouldnot wed without your father's consent?"

  Karl was about to reply, when Cimburga said quickly, "No, your Highness,but even if his father should never be willing for us to wed, it is ajoy to know that he cares for me, and that when all others were againstme he still had faith in me."

  The little princess now realized that it is sometimes a great pleasureto be a person whose authority can be felt. She at once made up her mindthat the mercenary miller should give his consent to the match, and thatwillingly, even gladly.

  "What is the size of the dowry that this fortunate weaver's daughterwill be able to bring to you?" she asked, turning to the young man.

  "It is quite a large one, your Highness," he returned, with a sigh, asthough he wished from the bottom of his heart that the thrifty weaverhad been a gay spendthrift instead of having been a providentmoney-saver. And he mentioned a sum at which the Lady Marguerite smiledbehind her hand, it seemed so small to her.

  "Le Glorieux," said she, "go into my bedchamber and ask one of my womento give you the brass-bound box which will be found in the top of thechest."

  The jester skipped gayly away to do her bidding and soon returned withthe box clasped affectionately in his arms, and kneeling, he laid it onher lap. She took a purse from the box, and emptying the glitteringcoins in the chair beside her, she counted the pieces as she restoredthem one by one to the purse, which she handed to Cimburga, saying:

  A greater dowry than the weaver's daughter's]

  "Here is a greater dowry than the weaver's daughter will bring to herhusband. I owe you something because one of my own suite has brought youso much trouble. I hope your marriage will be a happy one. Some day Itoo must marry, and a princess may not make her own choice. Say a prayerfor me, Cimburga, that my betrothal may
bring me the happiness thatyours has brought to you. Petition the Holy Virgin for Marguerite ofHapsburg."

  "Indeed and indeed I will, your gracious Highness," sobbed Cimburga, asshe pressed the hem of Marguerite's robe to her lips. "The sun shall notset on a day of my life in which a prayer has not been said for you."

  Le Glorieux rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, saying, "I do not likesalt water in any shape. When I sail on it it makes me uncomfortable andill, and it is equally disagreeable when it tries to drown a man'seyes."