d a hostelry in town, she could bait the nobles thither,"
commented the host, thoughtfully.

"Give her to the scamp-student," remarked the fellow who had first
spoken.

"Nay, since Nanette ran off with a street singer and left me
spouseless, I have made a vow of celibacy," hastily answered the piping
voice of the lank scholar.

A series of loud guffaws greeted the scamp-student's declaration, while
the subsequent rough humor of the knaves made the listener's cheek burn
with indignation. Yet forced to listen he was, knowing that the
slightest movement on his part would quickly seal the fate of himself
and the young girl. But every fiber of his being revoked against that
ribald talk; he bit his lip hard, hearing her name bandied about by
miscreants and wretches of the lowest type, and even welcomed a
startling change in the discourse, occasioned by the leader.

"Enough, rogues. We must settle with the jester first. Afterward, it
will be time enough to deal with the maid. Hast done feeding and
tippling yet, morio?"

"Yes, master," said the suspiciously muffled voice of the imbecile.

"Here's the knife then. You shall have another tankard when you come
back."

"Another tankard!" muttered the creature.

At these significant words, knowing that the crucial moment had come,
the jester retreated rapidly, and, making his way down the passage,
stood in a dark corner near his room. As of one accord the voices
ceased below; a heavy creaking announced the approach of the morio;
nearer and nearer, first on the stairs, then in the upper corridor.
From where he remained concealed the fool dimly discerned the figure of
the would-be assassin.

At the door of the jestress' room it paused. The fool lifted his
blade; the form passed on. Before the chamber of the _plaisant_ its
movements became more stealthy; it bent and listened. Should the
jester spring upon it now? A strange loathing made him hesitate, and,
before he had time to carry his purpose into execution, the creature,
throwing aside further pretense of caution, swung back the door and
launched himself across the apartment. A heavy blow, swiftly followed
by another; afterward, the stillness of death.

Every moment the jester expected an outcry; the announcement of the
fruitlessness of the attack, but the morio made no sound. The silence
became oppressive; the _plaisant_ felt almost irresistibly impelled
toward that terrible chamber, when with heavy, lumber