loor. The place had a stale, close odor, as though not long since
vacated by an inabstinent company, a supposition further borne out by
the disorder of the furniture, and the evidence the gathering had not
been over-nice about spilling the contents of their toss-pots. The
host had but opened the front door, permitting the fresh, invigorating
air from without to enter, when the duke's _plaisant_, his cloak over
his arm, descended the stairs, and, addressing the landlord, asked when
he and his companion could be provided with breakfast.

"Breakfast!" grumbled the proprietor. "The maids are hardly up and the
fires must yet be started. It will be an hour or more before you can
be served."

The jester appeared somewhat dissatisfied, but contented himself with
requesting the other to set about the meal at once.

"You ride forth early," answered the man, in an aggrieved tone.

The _plaisant_ made no reply as he strode to the door and looked out;
noted sundry signs of awakening life down the narrow street, and then
returned to the tap-room.

"You had a noisy company here last night, landlord?" he vouchsafed,
glancing around the room and recalling the laughter and shouts he had
heard below until a late hour.

"Noisy company!" retorted the innkeeper. "A goodly company that ate
and drank freely. Distinguished company that paid freely. The king's
own guards who are acting as escort to Robert, the Duke of Friedwald,
and his bride, the princess. Noisy company, forsooth."

The young man started. "The king's guards!" he said. "What are they
doing here?"

The other vigorously rubbed the top of a table with a damp cloth.
"Acting as escort to the duke, as I told you," he replied.

"The duke is here, also?"

"Yes; at the chateau. The princess had become weary of travel;
besides, had sprained her ankle, I heard, and would have it the
cavalcade should tarry a few days. They e'en stopped at my door," he
went on ostentatiously, "and called for a glass of wine for the
princess. 'Tis true she took it with a frown, but the hardships of
journeying do not agree with grand folks."

These last words the jester, absorbed in thought, did not hear. With
his back to the man, he stood gazing through the high window,
apparently across the street. But between the two houses on the other
side of the thoroughfare was a considerable open space, and through
this, far away, on the mount, could be seen the chateau. The sunlight
shone