e duke, 'had I entered the cell than he
rushed upon me, and, it grieves me, I used the wit-snapper roughly.'
So"--folding her hands before her and gazing at the _plaisant_--"I e'en
came to see if you were killed."

"You came," he said. "Yes; but how?"

"What matters it?" she answered. "Perhaps it was magic, and the
cell-doors flew open at my touch."

"I can almost believe it," he returned.

And his glance fell thoughtfully from her to the couch. Before the
assault he had lain at night upon the straw on the floor, and this
unhoped-for immunity from the dampness of the stones or the scampering
of occasional rats suggested another starting point for mental inquiry.
She smiled, reading the interrogation on his face.

"One of the turnkeys furnished the bed," she remarked, shrewdly. "Do
you like it?"

"It is a better couch than I have been accustomed to," he replied, in
no wise misled by her response, and surmising that her solicitation had
procured him this luxury. "Nevertheless, the night has seemed
strangely long."

"It has been long," she returned, moving toward the window. "A week
and more."

Surprise, incredulity, were now written upon his features. That such
an interval should have elapsed since the evening of the free baron's
visit appeared incredible. He could not see her countenance as she
spoke; only her figure; the upper portion bright, the lower fading into
the deep shadows beneath the aperture in the wall.

"You tell me I have lain here a week?" he asked finally, recalling
obscure memories of faintly-seen faces and voices heard as from afar.

"And more," she repeated.

For some moments he remained silent, passing from introspection to a
current of thought of which she could know nothing; the means he had
taken to thwart the ambitious projects of the king's guest.

"Has Caillette returned?" he continued, with ill-disguised eagerness.

"Caillette?" she answered, lifting her brows at the abruptness of the
inquiry. "Has he been away? I had not noticed. I do not know."

"Then is he still absent," said the jester, decisively. "Had he come
back, you would have heard."

Quickly she looked at him. Caillette!--Spain!--these were the words he
had often uttered in his delirium. Although he seemed much better and
the hot flush had left his cheeks, his fantasy evidently remained.

"A week and over!" resumed the fool, more to himself than to his
companion. "But he still may return before the