he letters of the book
became blurred and then faded away. Doubt, misgiving, fear, vanished
on the moment. The flower she had given him seemed to burn on his
heart. He forgot the decree of the king; her equivocation; the
unanswered question. Passionately he thrust his hand into his doublet.

"The rose and love are one," he cried. "The rose is--"

"Pardon me, Madam," said a voice, and Jacqueline, clear-eyed, calm,
stood before them; "the fan was not in the king's ante-chamber, or I
should have been here sooner. I trust you have not been put out for
want of it?"

"Not at all, Jacqueline," returned her mistress, with a natural,
tranquil movement, "although"--sharply--"you were gone longer than you
should have been!"

CHAPTER VI

THE ARRIVAL OF THE DUKE

Proficient as a poet, bold as a soldier, adroit as a statesman, the
king was, nevertheless, most fitted for the convivial role of host, and
no part that he played in his varied repertoire afforded such
opportunity for the nice display of his unusual talents. History hath
sneered at his rhymes as flat, stale and unprofitable; upon the bloody
field he had been defeated and subsequently imprisoned; clever in
diplomacy, the sagacity of his opponent, Charles, had in truth
overmatched him; yet as the ostentatious Boniface, in grand bib and
tucker, prodigal in joviality and good-fellowship, his reputation rests
without a flaw.

In anticipation of the arrival of the duke and his suite, the monarch
had ordered a series of festivities and entertainments such as would
gratify his desire for pageantry and display, and at the same time do
honor to a guest who was to espouse one of France's fairest wards. To
the castle repaired tailors, embroiderers and goldsmiths to make and
devise garments for knights, ladies, lords and esquires and for the
trapping, decking and adorning of coursers, jennets and palfries.
Bales of silks and satins had been long since conveyed thither from
distant Paris, in anticipation of the coming marriage; and the old
Norman castle that had once resounded with the clashing of arms, the
snap of the cross-bow and the clang of the catapult now echoed with the
merry stir and flurry of peace; a bee-hive of activity wherein were no
drones; marshal, grand master, chancellor and grand chamberlain
preparing for mysteries and hunting parties; dowagers, matrons and
maids making ready for balls and other pastimes.

With this new influx of population to