Kitabı oku: «The Court Jester», sayfa 3

The Lady Anne, so far from being gratified by this intelligence, looked very much annoyed. "We are no longer at war with France," she said coldly. "It would have been better to have believed the woman's account of herself and let the two go on their way."

Considerably dismayed at thus being reproved where he had expected to be commended, the officer could not forbear to reply that France had broken her word with Brittany in the past, and who could tell but that she might be planning some new piece of treachery?

"Let the prisoners appear before me," said the duchess, and after some little delay the prisoners were brought in, and Le Glorieux and Antoine beheld – as the former, at least, had suspected – the same woman and child who had stopped at the inn on the previous night.

The woman was pale and frightened, and she sobbed bitterly as she knelt at the feet of her Grace of Brittany. The child too was pale, but she stood silent, with her small hands clasped before her, not offering to kneel, as did her companion.

"Oh, gracious lady, give us permission to go on our way at dawn to-morrow!" imploded the woman. "We have been brought out of our way by your soldiers, and if we do not reach home soon I do not know what will happen," and she concluded with another burst of tears.

"You should be German by your accent," said the duchess kindly. "Calm yourself and tell me your name and why you have come to Brittany."

The woman hesitated, and the child said quietly, "Tell her Grace your name; there is no reason why you should not do so."

"Cunegunda Leutner; I am an Austrian, your Grace," was the reply.

"Then she is a subject of your own, after all, Cousin Anne, since you are to marry the Archduke of Austria, Poco Danari," interposed Le Glorieux, who was not afraid to rush in where angels fear to tread.

The little duchess blushed crimson at this speech. Perhaps she was annoyed to hear the name Poco Danari, which means poverty-stricken, applied to her lover, and which had been given to Maximilian of Austria because his rich old father was too stingy to allow him necessary funds. Whatever the cause, she seemed about to administer a rebuke to the fool, then controlling herself turned again to the woman.

"And the girl, is she your child?"

"No, your Grace, but I have cared for her from the day she was born."

"What brought you to Brittany?"

"For the reason I told your Grace's soldiers. I visited the shrine of Saint Roch, the blessed saint whose fame for healing all maladies is known far and wide."

"You do not look like an invalid," remarked the duchess, surveying the stout figure and round face of the speaker.

"It is the migraine, your Grace, a pain which has troubled me day and night, and which leeches tell me is liable to reach the heart. Oh, dear and gracious lady, I should not care for myself; life is not so precious that I should want to cling to it; it is for this little one that I want to live, and for that reason I have taken this long journey to implore the blessed saint to cure me, that my life may be spared until she no longer needs me."

"Is the child an orphan?"

"Her mother is dead, your Grace. Her mother bade me always to be a friend to her, and I promised."

"Her father is married to a woman who is unkind to her?"

"He – he – is about to be married, your Grace," stammered the woman.

"Cousin Anne," again interrupted the jester, "this woman is telling the truth about the visit to the shrine of Saint Roch. I saw her and the child going there this morning just as I was coming away after a long prayer to be relieved of the gout, which I never have had, but which may overtake me like a thief in the night."

Every one smiled at this remark save the duchess, who again turned to the Austrian. "Why did you bring the child with you upon a journey fraught with discomfort, if not with danger?"

"Because, your Grace, I have sworn never to leave her, and never a night of her life has she slept without my first smoothing the coverlid over her little body."

"What is her name? Who is she?"

The Austrian was silent a moment. "If it please your Grace, there are reasons which forbid a reply to that question," she said slowly.

"But I insist upon a reply," said the Duchess Anne, with a touch of that firmness which made her appear older than her years.

The prisoner bent her head still lower as she replied in tones of emotion, "Gracious lady, so well beloved by your subjects, show us a little of that kindness you vouchsafe to others. We ask no favor but to be allowed to depart early to-morrow morning. It is necessary for us to go. I know not what will happen if we are longer delayed. Believe me, I am speaking the truth."

"Truly," said the young duchess gently, "we each have a right to the secret of our hearts." After a moment's reflection she said, "You shall go within five days at most, and in a company that will insure your protection. Until your departure you shall be made as comfortable as possible, and you shall not leave my domains empty-handed. This much at least I owe you for the discomfort you have suffered through my overzealous soldiers."

To remain as a guest in this splendid abode, and to receive a sum of money at the end of the visit, to say nothing of a safe conduct home, would not by most people be considered a hardship, but the woman looked as if she had received a blow. "Oh, lady," she moaned, "your Grace means to be kind, but let us go to-morrow. Not an hour longer must we wait. Even now our absence may be discovered."

"Discovered?" said the Lady Anne. "Why should a pious journey require so much secrecy? But guard your secret if you like. You shall depart within five days, as I have said; it may be a little earlier; it will not be longer than that time."

"Alas," cried the woman, turning wildly to the child and seeming to forget all caution, "what will she say when she finds that we are away? Cold and revengeful as her father, she may send me to my death!"

"Of whom are you speaking?" asked the duchess wonderingly. "Who has the power to punish so severely a pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint Roch?"

Overcome by her emotion, the woman made no reply, but the child now stepped forward and said in a voice that all might hear, "The Duchess of Brittany has no right to keep me here against my will! I shall depart when I please. My rank is higher than yours. You ask my name? You shall know it, happen what will. I am the granddaughter of an emperor; I am the future Queen of France. I am Marguerite of Hapsburg!"

An earthquake shaking the palace from turret to donjon keep would not have caused a greater degree of surprise, for there was something in the manner, the tone, and the expression of the child that left no room for doubt. Her exquisitely-poised head was thrown proudly back, and though her full red lips quivered slightly, her eyes were dry and bright.

Strange to say, the fool of the company was the first to gain his self-possession. With a swift, gliding step he advanced toward the little lady, and kneeling he pressed her hand to his lips. "Mary's little child!" he exclaimed with a half sob.

"You said last night that you would give a year of your life to see the daughter of Mary of Burgundy, and now your wish is granted for naught," said Marguerite, smiling.

The Lady Anne now came forward, and clasping the princess in her arms kissed her on both cheeks. "The little lady whom of all others I have most desired to see!" she said. "Happily sheltered in the arms of my own dear father I heard of you, a tiny child away from your parents and in a strange country. And once I sent you a doll. I dare say you have forgotten it," she went on, half laughing. "It was a fashion model that had been sent to my grandmother, who was going to live at the court of France in the time of Charles the Seventh, and it was one of my dearest possessions. It wore a high pointed cap with a long flowing veil, and it had long pointed shoes."

"It must have looked like the old Duchess of Burgundy," remarked Le Glorieux, who was again his old impudent self. "Did it talk of the princess who kissed the poet, Cousin Anne?"

"It was dressed in the mode of the princess who kissed the poet," she returned, laughing. "Do you remember it, Lady Marguerite?"

"Yes, Lady Anne, and I have it still. Since the day you sent it I always have remembered you in my prayers. With it came a little chain set with pearls, but I liked the doll best."

Just here the jester began to laugh immoderately, slapping his knees and stamping at the same time, while every one else smiled in sympathy.

"What do you find so very amusing, Fool?" asked the Lady Anne.

He replied, "Some things that happen in royal families are so very funny that they would make Pandora, my hawk, laugh, though she is such a sulky little brute. Once explained to Pittacus, my donkey, and he would smile until every tooth in his head could be seen. You asked if this child's father was married to a woman who was unkind to her, and her nurse said he was about to be married. And you, Cousin Anne, ha! ha! you are to be the cruel stepmother!"

There was no denying the fact that the Lady Anne was about to be the stepmother of the Lady Marguerite, for Maximilian, who was still young and handsome, was shortly to marry the young Duchess of Brittany.

But again the duchess seemed to be embarrassed, and she turned her back to Le Glorieux as she said, "My dear Lady Marguerite, I will not keep you here a moment when you must be overcome with fatigue. I will send you to your apartments, where supper shall be served you, and then when you have retired and are resting I will come and talk to you, if I may."

The princess, so far from being conducted to the plain but comfortable quarters which would have been hers had her identity remained a secret, was now shown all the deference accorded a person of rank. Pages, maids, and even ladies of high degree, rushed about to make her comfortable, a delicious supper was served, and she lay down to rest beneath the gold-embroidered canopy of a couch even more sumptuous than her own bed in the palace of Amboise.

Cunegunda, who had been given a room next to that of her young mistress, after smoothing the silken coverlid over her young charge, satisfied that nothing dreadful was going to happen to-night, at least, had retired, and was sleeping the sleep of the fatigued when the Lady Anne entered the apartment of her young guest.

The duchess had changed her gown for a long robe of dark blue silk trimmed in fur, with a little cap of the same, and in this plainer garb she seemed younger and less stately than in the earlier part of the evening.

The princess, with her bright hair flowing over the cushions against which she leaned, seemed pathetically young, and it is a singular fact that about these two children revolved the most important events in the history of Europe at that time, events which drove great statesmen to their wits' end, and changed the map of France for all time.

Sitting on the edge of the bed the Lady Anne took the hand Marguerite stretched out to her, and stroking it gently, said simply, "And now tell me all about it. I long to know why France so lightly guards a princess intrusted to her keeping."

"It was as Cunegunda told you," was the reply. "She was suffering and the leeches frightened her. She always has been my nurse. When I was a baby, and, by the desire of our subjects, was sent with my brother to live in Flanders, my beautiful young mother – whom I can not remember – made Cunegunda promise never to leave me, for she knew that my nurse loved me, and love can not be bought. My mother, as you know, was killed when hunting, but Cunegunda never forgot her promise. She came to France with me, and though there are with me Lady Ravenstein and others of my father's court, I feel that none of them is so fond of me as she, for I know that if necessary she would give her life for mine. Anne of Beaujeu, Duchess of Bourbon and sister to the king, is like King Louis, her father, and she would not scruple to take a cruel revenge should she feel so inclined. We both dislike her very much, and that is why we are anxious to return before she hears of our absence."

"Did no one know that you had left the palace of Amboise?" asked the duchess.

"Only a few of the servants, who were bribed to keep silence. The Duchess of Bourbon lately has been away, and I have seen but little of her. Some of the other ladies have been ill, and one of them is about to be married. Cunegunda gave it out that I had been attacked by some contagious childish malady, I do not know what, and this kept them away from my apartments, and we stole out early one morning and mounting our mules came away."

"Were you not afraid to go on a journey without any one of authority in your train, and with no one to guard you from highwaymen?"

"No, Lady Anne. Cunegunda loves me, you know, and she was better than any one of rank. She made a little stuff gown for me, and she said that traveling alone and unattended we should attract no attention, and could go on our way unmolested.

"I have been quite happy during the trip, for it was all so new and so strange to me, and it was so pleasant not to be surrounded by people who were always watching me. But it was my fault that we excited suspicion. I went down to the inn kitchen to see what the common people do when they are having a festival, and I felt that I must give a gold piece to the baby who had been named Mary in memory of my dear mother. It appears that ordinary people do not give away so much money, and that is what made the company at the inn suspicious."

"And no wonder, you innocent little girl," returned the Lady Anne, smiling. "A person of the station represented by your dress would have given, if anything, just the smallest piece of silver which is fastened to a bit of leather to keep it from being lost."

"I am afraid," went on the princess, "of the consequences of our trip to Cunegunda if our absence should be discovered, and as we have been away longer than we had planned, I fear that even those who were bribed to keep silence will think that something has happened to us, and will feel it their duty to report our absence. Cunegunda is afraid of this, and she is terrified when she thinks of Anne of Beaujeu. But as we shall go to-morrow morning, perhaps we shall be in Amboise before we have been missed."

"Indeed, you are not going to-morrow morning, my dear little sister and cousin," said Anne, using the term employed by royalties when addressing each other.

"Then I am afraid that we shall have a great deal of trouble when we do return," said the princess coldly. "Of course we can not help ourselves; we must remain here if you command it, but I can not see how if will benefit you to make us stay against our will. I had hoped that it would be different when you had been told who you were detaining; I am sorry now that I revealed our secret."

She turned her head slightly, and a tear rolled over her temple and dropped into the meshes of her bright hair.

The duchess thrust her arm under the child's head, and clasping her affectionately said, "Do you think, foolish little one, that I am keeping you here for spite? Within a few days you shall set out for Amboise with an escort that even a queen would not disdain."

"It would avail us nothing to return in royal style if we were to be punished sorely at the end of the journey," returned Marguerite dryly.

"You shall not be punished. I already have sent a messenger to the King of France explaining your absence, stating that you are in my keeping, and that you will return in safety."

"The King? Oh, the King would not care. But it is not he who rules France at present; it is his sister, Anne of Beaujeu."

"Let it be Anne of Beaujeu, then," cried the young duchess. "I promise that not one of your golden hairs shall be touched, and that your faithful nurse shall not be harmed in the least."

She rose as she spoke and looked down upon her guest with a proud smile. "France will hardly refuse a request made just now by Anne of Brittany," she said.

"I feel that you will do what you promise, though I do not quite understand," returned Marguerite with a sigh of relief.

For a few moments Anne remained silent, playing with the gilt cords that looped back the curtains of the bed. Then she said, "You evidently do not know that since our recent conflict with France a treaty has been signed whereby I am allowed safe conduct to join the King of the Romans, your father, in Austria. I may sail from St. Malo or go through France, as I choose. I shall take the latter route, and you and your attendant shall go with my suite to the nearest point to Amboise, where you can travel the remainder of the way in safety. Even before I knew your rank I did not like to think of a dainty little creature like you traveling over the country with none to guard you but a woman of the people, and I was going to let you make the journey under my protection. But now you shall ride by my side on the prettiest palfrey in my stables, or in one of my litters if you prefer it." And she gave Marguerite a light kiss on the brow.

"Oh, I am so glad that you are going to marry my father!" cried the princess, with sparkling eyes. "He sent me his portrait by the Austrian ambassador, and he is as beautiful as a knight of the Holy Grail. If I were not the heiress of Burgundy and Flanders, but only a little peasant girl, I could live under my father's roof as other children do. But this happiness is not to be granted me, for it is arranged that I am to be Queen of France."

"Those in whose veins courses royal blood may not do as their hearts dictate," said Anne thoughtfully. "But let us talk no more to-night, for it is time for those bright eyes to be closed in sleep."

The two girls embraced affectionately; then the duchess left the room.

CHAPTER IV
BROKEN PROMISES

After meeting "little Mademoiselle of Austria," as Marguerite was called in the court of Brittany, both Le Glorieux and Antoine felt that they would like to be in her service, and that it was to her, the daughter of their own Mary of Burgundy, to whom they owed their loyalty.

The morning after her arrival the princess sent for Le Glorieux and Antoine to come to her. The Duchess Anne had seen to it that her guest should be clad in a costume befitting her rank, and the coarse gown of the peasant child had been discarded for ever.

Marguerite asked the two comrades a great many questions about the province of Burgundy, and the jester told her many incidents of her mother's girlhood. She listened to Antoine's Burgundian songs with great delight, and she expressed a wish that both jester and musician might accompany her to Amboise, though she said she would not be so selfish as to deprive the Duchess of Brittany of two such merrymakers.

Cunegunda, however, was not happy at the court of Brittany. "I wish that we had been permitted to continue our journey as we began it," she said. "I am convinced that it would have been far better for both of us."

"I am not afraid," replied her mistress calmly. "The Lady Anne has promised that we shall return in safety, and she will not break her word." But Cunegunda's round rosy face remained thoughtful and sad.

"Something tells me that things are not right," said she. "I seem to feel it in the air. Everything is going too well for us. Here is your little Highness treated like a very queen with everything done to amuse you, and both of us so comfortable in this beautiful palace that I feel that it is all too good to be true."

The next afternoon Le Glorieux, who, as has been said, being a jester was privileged to go where he liked, rushed into the apartments of the princess with the remark, "Our Duchess of Brittany soon to be married is listening to a strange man by the oriel window in the grand corridor."

"A jest upon such a subject does not amuse me in the least," replied the Lady Marguerite reprovingly.

"By the mass! nor does it amuse me, for from the few words I caught I am sure it means something quite serious for you, little Cousin."

"Please explain your meaning."

The jester replied, "I was looking at those suits of armor, in the corridor, worn by the ancient Dukes of Brittany. I was counting the dents made in the helmets and corselets by mace and battle-ax, and wondering if it paid to fight so fiercely, since, after all, the time would come when the bravest would be as dead as anybody else, when I heard the tinkle of ladies' voices, and who should come into the corridor but Cousin Anne and Clotilde."

"I slipped behind the armor of a giant duke and stood waiting to see what was going to happen, for the duchess was as white as Dame Cunegunda's cap and the countenance of Clotilde was screwed into an expression I never had seen it wear in all the years I have reveled in the joy of her acquaintance. They waited for a few moments, then the door at the other end of the corridor was opened and two gentlemen entered."

"And who were they?" asked Cunegunda breathlessly.

"I have not the pleasure of the acquaintance of all the gentlemen of Europe," replied the fool, "and I did not recognize them; but I knew at once that they were Frenchmen. As soon as they had greeted the ladies the taller of the two retired to the other end of the corridor, and Clotilde, as if not to be outdone in politeness, withdrew to the other door; but I remained quietly in my place, for I wanted to hear what was going on. Why is it that people always talk in such low mumbling voices when one is trying to hear what they are saying? I have good large ears, and I strained them to their utmost capacity, but I could only catch a word now and then.

"I know that the gentleman was urging Cousin Anne to do something she did not want to do, and that it was a plot against Mademoiselle of Austria, for I heard Anne say, 'Dishonorable both to the King of the Romans and to the Lady Marguerite.' I wanted to hear more, but Clotilde, who I verily believe was created on purpose to make me uncomfortable, seemed to suspect that there was somebody in the place who had not been invited and began to peer about pop-eyed, like a cat in search of a mouse."

"Well, continue!" said Cunegunda impatiently, as the fool paused.

"Let a man reach for his breath, can't you? That was a long sentence. I felt that I was not safe with Clotilde on the hunt for me, so, keeping well in the shadows, I managed to slip to the nearest archway, and I am here with a whole skin, which might not have been the case if Clotilde had spied me out."

"How did the gentleman appear?" asked Cunegunda.

"He appeared to be pretty well, though somewhat anxious," replied the jester.

"She meant to ask you to describe him," said the princess.

"He was not beautiful," was the reply. "I could show you a handsomer man among her Grace's falconers and could pick a better-looking one from a good many other crowds. Put into the suit of armor behind which I stood he would have rattled about like a nut on the inside of a drum. His head was large and his nose, instead of coming straight down, as a sensible nose should do, made a curve over the top. His eyes were big and bright, and Nature, as if to make an apology for giving him such a nose, had stuck a dimple in his chin, which was poor taste on her part, for a dimple looks queer with that kind of a nose. But his manner was so gracious that I fancy one would soon forget his ugliness and think only of the real man shut inside that unprepossessing shell.

"That was a clever sentence, was it not?" asked the fool, stopping suddenly. "I did not know that I could do it. I wish I could always talk like that."

"Did he have a fashion of smoothing his hair from his brow as he talked?" asked the princess.

"Yes, I noticed that. He held his cap in his hand, as a gentleman should. It was black, with a long black plume clasped in place by a great jewel that seemed to wink at me as he talked."

"It was Charles of France!"

"It was the King!" exclaimed Marguerite and her woman in the same breath.

"Because he wore a jewel in his cap?" asked the jester. "Oh, fie! that is a common fashion."

"You have described the King's face and figure exactly," said Cunegunda.

"Since you mention it, I think it must have been the King," said the fool, "for I now recall the fact that the lady addressed him as 'Monseigneur,' a title not given to common mortals."

"Oh, what is going to happen to us now?" cried Cunegunda, in an agony of distress. "I have known all along that something dreadful was in store for us in this place."

"Then it must be a mournful satisfaction to you to know that you were not mistaken," remarked Le Glorieux.

"Do not stand there making senseless speeches," cried the Austrian woman angrily, "but try to help us out of our troubles. But why do I appeal to you? You do not care for us; you are in the service of our enemies."

The jester instantly became serious. "If danger threatens I will serve but one. I shall know no allegiance but to the princess of my own country, the daughter of my beloved mistress."

Marguerite smiled brightly as she said, "I have no fear that you will not defend me if it should become necessary, Le Glorieux. But I do not think the time has yet come for you to fight for me.

"Your Highness talks like a baby," cried Cunegunda, "and as if you were a person of no consequence! Is it a matter of small moment that the granddaughter of the emperor should be in the clutches of Anne of Brittany, who is plotting against her with the King of France?"

"But why should the King of France plot against me, since I am to be the queen and my provinces will one day belong to him?" replied her little mistress.

"Who can account for the strange schemes of great nations?" asked Cunegunda. "Perhaps your marriage with the King of France is about to be broken off and he and the Duchess of Brittany will hold you as a hostage to extract a large sum from the emperor, your grandfather."

"It would be cruel to demand a large sum from that old and stingy man," remarked Le Glorieux. "The gold of Frederick is as hard to dig out of his coffers as if it were a thousand feet under ground."

"We shall not need his money for that purpose," said the princess. "My dear Duchess of Brittany will never betray me, nor will Charles of France, who is too good and kind to seek to injure me."

"The King is under the influence of his sister, who has no thought but for her own schemes," replied the woman firmly. "We must leave here at once! We can escape to-night unseen and remain in some quiet village until we shall be able to communicate with Austria."

Le Glorieux sat down on the floor and pressed his hands to his head. "This matter is enough to puzzle a wise man, to say nothing of a fool," said he dolefully. "Now, let us look at it as it really is and try to straighten it all out." Holding his left hand out in front of him and gesticulating with his right, he went on. "This thumb is Mademoiselle of Austria; this forefinger is the Duchess Anne; the second finger is the King of France, and the third is the King of the Romans. Now, Anne is going to marry the King of the Romans, whose daughter is going to marry the King of France. But what must Anne be at but engaged in a plot against the daughter of the man she is going to marry in order to make things fine and pleasant for her by the time she arrives in Austria. This plot, so far as I can see, is one which the King of France has no reason in this world to have a finger in, but which he takes all the trouble to come in secret to help carry out!"

"Do not sit there tapping first one finger and then the other like a great booby, but help us to get away from here," said Cunegunda angrily. "Here is money to bribe the groom to keep silent. See that our mules are brought out – "

"Stop!" said Marguerite, in a tone of calm authority. "I have told the Duchess of Brittany that I would trust her, and intend to do so. I shall remain here until she goes."

"Remain here with your life in danger?" cried Cunegunda, aghast.

"My life is not in danger. I know not of what she was speaking to the King of France, nor how Le Glorieux may have misunderstood her, but whatever it is, my life is not in peril while I am beneath the roof of Anne of Brittany. Therefore I will not steal away in the night like a criminal. She has said that not one hair of my head shall be touched, and she will not be faithless to her promise. There is nothing for us to do but to keep silent and wait."

"And those two are the hardest things in this world to do," said the fool. "To wait is worse than the toothache, to keep silent is worse than the plague, but put the two together and they are enough to destroy life and reason."

At supper the question of the significance of dreams came up, all discussing it in an animated manner save the Lady Anne, who toyed with her wineglass, often gazing down into it as if trying to read her future in its ruby depths. Le Glorieux sat on a low stool at her side, making a remark when he felt so inclined, and studying her face when he was not talking.

"There are dreams which always come true for me," said the Lady Clotilde in the tone of one whose word can not be disputed. "A dream of the dead is one of great importance, as every one knows. When I dream of my father something of moment always happens. He always addresses me as 'My sweet and amiable child.'"

"All kinds of love are blind," remarked the jester. "I had a dream myself last night that is of great importance," he went on with his eyes fixed on the Lady Anne's face. "I thought the affairs of Brittany, Austria, and France were a pack of cards, all arranged smoothly, with the proper kings and queens together and the knaves at the bottom of the pack. Then I could see the knaves grow restless and begin to flutter, and lo! the whole pack went spinning in the air, whirling about like dead leaves in the mistral. And when they came together again the wrong kings and queens were mated; for instance, the Queen of Diamonds was paired with the King of Clubs!"