"I will spare your courtesy, Sir Knight," said Rowena with dignity, and
without unveiling herself; "or rather I will tax it so far as to require
of you the latest news from Palestine, a theme more agreeable to our
English ears than the compliments which your French breeding teaches."
"I have little of importance to say, lady," answered Sir Brian de
Bois-Guilbert, "excepting the confirmed tidings of a truce with
Saladin."
He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his appropriated seat upon
a chair, the back of which was decorated with two ass's ears, and which
was placed about two steps behind that of his master, who, from time
to time, supplied him with victuals from his own trencher; a favour,
however, which the Jester shared with the favourite dogs, of whom, as we
have already noticed, there were several in attendance. Here sat Wamba,
with a small table before him, his heels tucked up against the bar of
the chair, his cheeks sucked up so as to make his jaws resemble a pair
of nut-crackers, and his eyes half-shut, yet watching with alertness
every opportunity to exercise his licensed foolery.
"These truces with the infidels," he exclaimed, without caring how
suddenly he interrupted the stately Templar, "make an old man of me!"
"Go to, knave, how so?" said Cedric, his features prepared to receive
favourably the expected jest.
"Because," answered Wamba, "I remember three of them in my day, each
of which was to endure for the course of fifty years; so that, by
computation, I must be at least a hundred and fifty years old."
"I will warrant you against dying of old age, however," said the
Templar, who now recognised his friend of the forest; "I will assure
you from all deaths but a violent one, if you give such directions to
wayfarers, as you did this night to the Prior and me."
"How, sirrah!" said Cedric, "misdirect travellers? We must have you
whipt; you are at least as much rogue as fool."
"I pray thee, uncle," answered the Jester, "let my folly, for once,
protect my roguery. I did but make a mistake between my right hand and
my left; and he might have pardoned a greater, who took a fool for his
counsellor and guide."
Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the porter's
page, who announced that there was a stranger at the gate, imploring
admittance and hospitality.
"Admit him," said Cedric, "be he who or what he may;--a night like that
which roars without, compels even wild animals to herd with tame, and to
seek the protection of man, their mortal foe, rather than perish by
the elements. Let his wants be ministered to with all care--look to it,
Oswald."