fool was audacious, foolhardy; his language
of covert mockery and quick wit proved him an intelligent antagonist,
who might become a desperate one.

"A woman and a fool," muttered the duke, striding with quick step
across his chamber, "are two uncertain quantities. The one should be
subjected; the other removed!"

Museful, he stood before the niche, wherein shone a cross of silver,
set with amethysts and turquoise, his rugged face lighted by the
uncertain flickering of the candles.

"Removed!" he repeated, contemplatively. "And she--"

The clear tinkling of a bell broke in upon his cogitation; a faint,
musical sound that seemed at his very elbow. He wheeled about
abruptly, saw nothing save the mysterious shadows of the curtains, the
flickering lamps, the dark outline of the canopy of the great bed.
Instinctively he knew he was not alone, and yet his gaze, rapidly
sweeping the apartment, failed to perceive an intruder.

Again the tinkling, a low laugh, and, turning sharply toward an alcove
from whence the sounds came, the duke, through the half-light and
trailing, sombrous shadows of its entrance, perceived a figure in a
chair. From a candle set in a spiked, enameled stick, a yellow
glimmering, that came and went with the sputtering flame, rested upon
an ironical face, a graceful figure in motley and a wand with the
jester's head and the bell. Without rising, the _plaisant_ quizzically
regarded the surprised nobleman, who in spite of his self-control had
stepped back involuntarily at the suddenness of the encounter.

"Good evening, my Lord," said the fool. "I am like the genii of the
tale. You think of me, and I appear."

Regaining his composure at once, the king's guest bent his heavy brows
over his deep-set eyes, and deliberately surveyed the fool.

"And now," went on the jester, gaily, "it is in your mind I am like as
suddenly to--disappear! Am I at fault?"

"On the contrary, you are unusually clear-witted," was the answer.

"Oh, my Lord, you over-estimate my poor capacity!" returned the
nobleman's unasked caller with a deprecatory gesture.

The hands of the other worked impatiently; his herculean figure blocked
the doorway. "You are a merry fellow!" he observed. "It is to be
regretted, but--confess you have brought it upon yourself?"

"What? My fate? Oh, yes!" And he indifferently regarded the wand and
the wooden figure upon it, without moving from the chair.

"You have no fear?" question