Hildebrand, irritated, made a step forward, and again Perpetua moved a
step away. Hildebrand frowned, accustomed to conquest.

"You shun me, child," he protested, "as if I had the plague."

The plague!

At those words the booming bells ceased, the babbling voices ceased;
Robert's darkness became light; an inspiration told him what to do. He
sprang to his feet and advanced towards Hildebrand, barring his way to
Perpetua. With outstretched palms, with cringing shoulders, he appealed
to Hildebrand, to Lycabetta.

"Sweet lord, sweet lady, I entreat a sweet word with you."

Perpetua, who had lifted her hand to clasp the handle of the knife, let
it fall again. Hildebrand, who had forgotten the fool's existence,
scowled and snarled at him.

"To heel, sirrah, to heel!"

Lycabetta shook with mirth. "You forget, my lord," she suggested, "that
it is the King who addresses you."

"I'll wring his majesty's neck," Hildebrand answered, savagely, "if he
vexes me further."

"Nay, if he vexes you, there be others for that task," and Lycabetta
struck sharply with a golden hammer upon a golden gong. Immediately the
curtains parted and Zal and Rustum entered. At their heels came several
of Lycabetta's women, wondering at the summons.

Lycabetta pointed to Robert.

"Cast the fool forth," she commanded.

The black slaves descended the steps. Robert turned a mocking, mouthing
face towards Lycabetta.

"Wait, wait," he said; "I have a tale to tell that should divert you
much."

Something in the fool's fantastic manner, in his grotesque attitude, in
his promise of diversion, took Lycabetta's fitful fancy. She held up a
hand and the slaves halted. Robert, who had edged a little nearer to
where Perpetua stood, wondering what strange purpose urged the fool, was
making singular gestures with his hands, as one inviting, even
commanding attention.

"Listen," he said, and his voice had a strange sound in it of defiance,
of dominion, of frightful triumph, that jarred horridly on his hearers.
"It was cold on the hills to-night and the wind chilled me. By the
road-side near the city's gate I found one who slept or seemed to sleep.
Wait, wait, my tale is wonderful and worth your patience. The sleeper
was wrapped in a great mantle. Why should he lie snug while I shivered?
I would have killed him sleeping to steal his cloak, but I was spared
the pains, for as I twitched at a corner of it the fellow rolled in a
lump before me and lay there