"Thank you, Fool," said the count, laughing. "You have cleared the good name of my ancestor and you are the first one in all these years to say a word in his favor, all preferring to take sides with the handsome minstrel." CHAPTER VI LADY CLOTILDE'S MOONSTONE PENDANT The next morning a royal messenger arrived with a letter for the little princess, and Le Glorieux, who was present when she received it, saw that tears were rolling down her cheeks when she had finished reading it. "What is it, little Cousin?" asked the jester. "Strange that a mere piece of paper should stir you up like this." "Oh, Le Glorieux," cried Marguerite, "my father does not love me!" And covering her face with her handkerchief, she burst into sobs. "Well, now that is another strange thing," said he, sitting down at her feet and clasping his hands about his knees, while he surveyed her thoughtfully. "His Royal Highness takes the trouble to send a messenger across the country to tell his little daughter that he does not love her, when it would have been so much easier to let this wonderful piece of news wait until he stood face to face with her." The princess patted her foot impatiently on the floor while the jester was speaking, then she said, restraining her sobs with an effort, "I have been so impatient to see him that I could scarcely wait for the days to pass, and every morning when I have wakened during our journey I have said to myself, 'One more day is off the list, and I am so many more leagues nearer to him than I was at this time yesterday.' And although the Countess Von Hohenberg is very kind, and has begged me to remain here for a time, still I wanted to go this very day," and again she began to sob. "Yes," said the jester, "I understand your side of the question, and now I wonder if you won't tell me just what Max writes in his letter, and I will help you to decide just what he means by it." "He--he--s-s-ays that we are to remain at Castle Hohenberg for three or four days in order that I may recover from the fatigue of the journey. It is c-c-cruel!" "It certainly is very cruel," replied Le Glorieux. "Odd that there should be such unnatural fathers in the world! A man must have a heart of flint to want his daughter to rest after a long journey." "I do not at all consider this a subject for jest," said the little lady, surveying the jester indignantly through her tears. "Looking at the matter broadly, I should say that it was just as much a subject for jesting as for weeping. Will your small Highness tell me what there is in all this to cry about? Do you not know that it is very foolish to cry about little things, and that the tears of even a princess are just as salt as those of anybody else, and if called up in abundance will make her eyes and nose just as red as those of a dairy maid who cries over a pail of spilled milk?"