ssing impulse of his sluggish brain.

"Fence!--justle!" he murmured, and slept once more.

But the parrot, again disturbed, could not so easily compose itself to
slumber. Whipping its head from its downy nest, it outspread its gray
wings gloriously and screamed and shouted, as though venting all the
thunders of the Vatican upon the offending belligerents. And above the
uproar and noise of arms, rabble and bird, arose the piercing voice of
Triboulet:

"Watch me spit this bantam-cock!"

CHAPTER II

A ROYAL EAVESDROPPER

Tough and sharp-pointed, a wooden sword was no insignificant weapon,
wielded by the thews and sinews of a Triboulet. Crouching like an
animal, the king's buffoon sprang with headlong fury, uttering hoarse,
guttural sounds that awakened misgivings regarding the fate of his too
confident antagonist.

"Do not kill him, Triboulet!" cried Marot, alarmed lest the duke's fool
should be slain outright. "Remember he has journeyed from the court of
Charles V!"

"Charles V!" came through Triboulet's half-closed teeth. "My master's
one great enemy!"

"Hush!" muttered Villot. "Our master's enemy is now his dear friend!"

"Friend!" sneered the other, but even as he thrust, his sword tingled
sharply in his hand, and, whisked magically out of his grip, described
a curve in the air and fell at a far end of the room. At the same time
a stinging blow descended smartly on the dwarf's hump.

"Pardon me!" laughed the duke's fool. "Being unused to such exercise,
my blade fell by mistake on your back."

If looks could have killed, Triboulet would have achieved his original
purpose, but after a vindictive though futile glance his head drooped
despondently. To have been thus humiliated before those whom he
regarded as his vassals! What jest could restore him the prestige he
had enjoyed; what play of words efface the shame of that public
chastisement? Had he been beaten by the king--but thus to suffer at
the hand of a foreign fool! And the monarch--would he learn of
it?--the punishment of the royal jester? As in a dream, he heard the
hateful voices of the company.

"'Tis not the first time he has been wounded--there!" said fearless
Caillette, who openly acknowledged his aversion for the king's favorite
fool. "But be seated, gentle sir," he added to the stranger, "and
share our rough hospitality."

"Rough, certes!" commented the other, as he returned his blade to his
belt. "And as I see no stoo