That it is but the caprice of a moment? Oh, no; no!
It was necessary to flee from the court. But to whom could a woman
turn? Not to any of the court--tools of the king. One person only was
there; he whose life was as good as forfeited. Do you understand?"

"That my life belongs to you? Yes. But that you should leave the
court--where you have influence, friends--"

"Influence! friends!"

He was startled by the bitterness of her voice.

"Tell me, Jacqueline--why do you wish to go?" he said, wonderingly.

"Because I wish to," she returned, briefly, and stroked the shining
neck of her horse.

Indeed, how could she apprise him of events which were now the talk of
the court? How Francis, evincing a sudden interest as strong as it was
unexpected, had exchanged Triboulet for herself, and the princess, at
the king's request, had taken the buffoon with her, and left the girl
behind. The jestress' welcome to the household of the Queen of
Navarre; a subsequent bewildering shower of gifts; the complacent,
although respectful, attentions of the king. How she had endured these
advances until no course remained save the one she had taken. No; she
could not tell the duke's fool all this.

Between _folle_ and fugitive fell a mutual reserve. Did he divine some
portion of the truth? Are there moments when the mind, tuned to a
tension, may almost feel what another experiences? Why had the girl
not gone with her mistress? He remembered she had evaded this question
when he had asked it. Looking at her, for the first time it crossed
his mind she would be held beautiful; an odd, strange beauty, imperious
yet girlish, and the conviction crept over him there might be more than
a shadow of excuse for her mad flight.

Beneath his scrutiny her face grew cold, disdainful. "Like all men,"
she said, sharply, as though to stay the trend of his thoughts, "you
are prodigal in promises, but chary in fulfilment."

"Where is it your pleasure to go?" he asked quietly.

"That we shall speak of hereafter," she answered, haughtily.

"Forward then."

"I can ride on alone," she demurred, "if--"

"Nay; 'tis I who crave the quest," he returned, gravely.

Her face broke into smiles, "What a devoted cavalier!" she exclaimed.
"Come, then. Let us ride out into the world. At least, it is bright
and shining--to-day. Do you fear to follow me, sir? Or do you believe
with the hunchback that I am an enchantress and cast over whom I will