I have a liking for you, Olivier, as you
know, and Tristan and I are very good friends, but neither of your
heads are safe on their shoulders if this sport of mine be spoiled
by indiscretions."
Olivier bowed deeply.
"I cannot speak for Tristan, sire," he said, "but I can speak for
myself. The God Harpocrates is not more symbolical of silence than I
when it is my business to hold my tongue."
"It is well," said Louis. "I will answer for Tristan. Have this
fellow sent to me here."
With another reverence Olivier left the king and ascended the steps
into the palace. The king sniffed pensively at the rose which
Katherine had given to him. The perfume seemed to sooth him and he
mused, sunning himself and feeding his fancy with the entertainment
which playing with the lives of others always afforded to him.
"This Jack and Jill shall dance to my whimsy like dolls upon a wire.
It would be rare sport if Mistress Katherine disdained Louis to
decline upon this beggar. He shall hang for mocking me. But he
carried himself like a king for all his tatters and patches, and he
shall taste of splendour."
Glancing up at the terrace he perceived the returning figure of
Olivier le Dain, and guessed that his henchman was serving as herald
to the new Grand Constable.
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