other was puny and misshapen, he had plucked off his sandal that with
it he might drive the full force of his arguments through the jester's
skull. At that the fool, being a very coward, had fled incontinently
through the trees.

Running, like the fool he was, with his head turned to learn whether the
good father followed him, he never saw the figure that lay half-hidden
in the bracken, and might never have guessed its presence but that
tripping over it he shot forward, with a tinkle of bells, on to his
crooked nose.

He sat up with a groan, which was answered by an oath from the man into
whose sides he had dug his flying feet. The two looked at one another in
surprise, tempered with anger in the one and dismay in the other.

"A good awakening to you, noble sir," quoth the fool politely; for by
the mien and inches of the man he had roused, he thought that courtesy
might serve him best.

The other eyed him with interest, as well he might; for an odder figure
it would be hard to find in Italy.

Hunched of back, under-sized, and fragile of limb, he was arrayed in
doublet, hose and hood, the half of which was black the other crimson,
whilst on his shoulders fell from that same hood--which tightly framed
his ugly little face--a foliated cape, from every point of which there
hung a tiny silver bell that glimmered in the sunlight, and tinkled as
he moved. From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set wide as an
owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth.

"A curse on you and him that sent you," was the answering greeting he
received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight
of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes.

"I crave your pardon--most humbly do I crave it, Illustrious," said the
fool, still in fear. "I was pursued."

"Pursued?" echoed the other, in a tone not free from a sudden
uneasiness. "And, pray, by whom?"

"By the very fiend, disguised in the gross flesh and semblance of a
Dominican brother."

"Do you jest?" came the angry question.

"Jest? Had you caught his villainous sandal between your shoulders, as
did I, you would know how little I have a mind to jest."

"Now answer me a plain question, if you have the wit to answer with,"
quoth the other, anger ever rising in his voice. "Is there hereabouts a
monk?"

"Aye, is there--may a foul plague rot him!--lurking in the bushes
yonder. He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, arrayed
i