give orders for your entertainment. It will be rough
hospitality, but--you are used to that. I am not sorry, child, you
hate our brother Francis, if it has driven you to our court."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE DEBT OF NATURE

Although the daughter of the constable received every attention
commensurate with the cheer of the camp, the day passed but slowly.
With more or less interest she viewed the diversified group of
soldiers, drawn by Charles from the various countries over which he
ruled: the brawny troops from Flanders; the alert-looking guards,
recruited from the mountains of Spain; the men of Friedwald, with
muscles tough as the fibers of the fir in their native forests. Even
the Orient--suggestive of many campaigns!--had been drawn upon, and the
bright-garbed olive-skinned attendants, moving among the tents of
purple or crimson, blended picturesquely with the more solid masses of
color.

For the Flemish soldiery, who had brought the fool and herself to the
camp, the young girl had a nod and a word, but it was the men of
Friedwald who especially attracted her attention, and unconsciously she
found herself picturing the land that had fostered this stalwart and
rough soldiery. A rocky, rugged region, surely; with vast forests,
unbroken brush! Yonder armorer, polishing a joint of steel, seemed
like a survivor of that primeval epoch when the trees were roofs and
the ground the universal bed. Once or twice she passed him, curiously
noting his great beard and giant-like limbs. But he minded her not,
and this, perhaps, gave her courage to pause.

"What sort of country is Friedwald?" she said, abruptly.

"Wild," he answered.

"Is the duke liked?" she went on.

"Yes."

"Do you know his--jester?"

"No."

For all the information he would volunteer, the man might have been
Doctor Rabelais' model for laconicism, and a moment she stood there
with a slight frown. Then she gazed at him meditatively; tap! tap!
went the tiny hammer in the mighty hand, and, laughing softly, she
turned. These men of Friedwald were not unpleasing in her eyes.

Twice had she approached the tent wherein lay the fool, only to learn
that the emperor was with the duke's _plaisant_. "A slight relapse of
fever," had said the Italian leech, as he blocked the entrance and
stared at her with wicked, twinkling eyes. She need be under no
apprehension, he had added; but to her quick fancy his glance said: "A
maid wandering with a fool!"