lity?"

If he had doubted the maid's story, he was now convinced. The ring and
her question confirmed Jacqueline's narrative. Moodily he surveyed the
great claws of the griffin, firmly planted on the earth, and then
looked from the feet to the laughing mouth of the stone figure, or so
much of it as the shining dress left uncovered.

"About fifteen days' journey, Princess," he replied.

"No farther?"

"Barring accidents, it may be made in that time."

She did not notice how dull was his tone; how he avoided her gaze.
Blind to him, she turned the ring around and around on her finger, as
though her thoughts were concentrated on it.

"Accidents," she repeated, her hand now motionless. "Is the way
perilous?"

"The country is most unsettled."

"What do you mean by unsettled?" she continued, bending forward with
fingers clasped over her knees. Supinely she waved a foot back and
forth, showing and then withdrawing the point of a jeweled slipper, and
a suggestion of lavender in silk network above. "What do you call
unsettled?"

"The country is infested with many roving bands commanded by the
so-called independent barons who owe allegiance to neither king nor
emperor," he answered. "Their homes are perched, like eagles' nests,
upon some mountain peak that commands the valleys travelers must
proceed through. A fierce, untamed crew, bent on rapine and murder!"

"Did you encounter any such?" Gently.

"Ofttimes."

"And left unscathed?"

"Because I was a jester, Madam; something less than man; a lordling's
slave; a woman's plaything! Their sentinels shared with me their
flasks; I slept before their signal fires, and even supped in the heart
of their stone fastnesses. Fools and monks are safe among them, for
the one amuses and the other absolves their sins. Yet is there one
free baron," he added reflectively, "whom even I should have done well
to avoid; he, the most feared, the most savage! Louis, the bastard of
Pfalz-Urfeld!"

"Have you ever met him?" asked the princess, in a mechanical tone.

"No," with a short laugh. "A few of his knaves I encountered, however,
whose conduct shamed the courtesy of the other mountain rogues. I all
but fared ill indeed, from them. To the pleasantry of my greeting,
they replied with the true pilferer's humor; the free baron had ordered
every one searched. They would have robbed and stripped me, despite
the color of my coat, only fortunately, instead of a fool's staff,