ll so heavily upon her, a cry of rage
burst from the fool's lips and he sprang toward his aggressors. The
young girl became yet whiter; a moment she clung to the baluster; then
started to descend the stairs. A dozen swords flashed before her eyes.

She drew in her breath sharply, when as if by some magic, the anger
faded from the face of the duke's fool; the hand he had raised to his
breast fell to his side; his blade remained sheathed.

"Your pardon, my Lord," he said to the commandant. "I have no
intention of resisting the authority of the law, but if you will grant
me a few moments' private audience in this room, I promise to convince
you the Duke of Friedwald never signed that writ."

"Let him convince the council that examines heretics," laughed
Triboulet. "I'll warrant they'll make short work of his arguments."

"I will give you my sword, sir," went on the jester. "Afterward, if
you are satisfied, you shall return it to me. If you are not, on my
word as a man of honor, I will go with you without more ado."

"A Calvinist, a jester, a man of honor!" cried the dwarf.

But narrowly the vicomte regarded the speaker. "_Pardieu_!" he
exclaimed gruffly. "Keep your sword! I promise you I can look to my
own safety." And in spite of Triboulet's remonstrance, he waved back
the troopers and closed the door upon the _plaisant_ and himself.

Outside the dwarf stormed and stamped. "The jester is desperate. It
is the noble count who is a nonny. Open, fool-soldiers!"

This command not being obeyed by the men who guarded the entrance, the
dwarf began to abuse them. A considerable interval elapsed; the
hunchback, who dared not go into the room himself, compromised by
kneeling before the keyhole; at the foot of the stairs stood the girl,
her strained gaze fastened upon the door.

"They must be near the window," muttered Triboulet in a disappointed
tone, rising. "What can they be about? Surely will he try to kill the
commandant."

But even as he spoke the door was suddenly thrown open and the vicomte
appeared on the threshold.

"Clear the hall!" he commanded sharply to the surprised soldiers. "If
I mistake not," he went on, addressing the duke's jester, "your horses
are at the door."

"You are going to let them go?" burst forth Triboulet.

"I trust you and this fair lady"--turning to the wondering girl, who
now stood expectantly at the side of the foreign fool--"will not harbor
this incident against our