"And who is this Spaniard who has so much influence over the Emperor of Austria?" asked Philibert hotly. "He is a nobody, an ordinary Castilian, who managed to attract the attention of the Queen of Spain, afterward gaining her confidence when he became her secretary." "Well, that he did gain her confidence, and that he has a good deal of influence over Max, is a fact nevertheless," returned the fool. "The young Prince of the Asturias is of the right age to marry, and will be a suitable match for our princess, and, so far as I am concerned, I am perfectly willing that they should marry, for I think that I should like to live in Spain. The climate is very fine, there would not be so much trouble in keeping warm as there is here, and I am fond of oranges." "The Spanish match is not made yet, and how do you know that the Lady Marguerite would take you with her, even if she should go to Spain?" asked Cunegunda disdainfully. "How do I know that she would take her shoes with her to Spain?" he inquired. "I have become a necessity to her; she could not get on without me. Besides that, I was a present to her from the Lady Anne, now Queen of France. If I was valuable when I was the present of a mere duchess, my value has increased tenfold now that I am the gift of a queen. So do not talk any more nonsense about my not going, for I shall be the first one to be considered." "I do not want to go away to a strange country," reiterated Cunegunda, and she went away wiping her eyes. Philibert walked slowly to the other end of the room, seeming to be absorbed in unpleasant thought, and the jester followed him, chattering all the while, but getting no reply. "Philbert, my boy," said he, "I can see that you are in a sour and unhappy frame of mind. I feel that the remark I made about the climate and the oranges of Spain has made you restless and envious. Besides that, you do not want to be separated from me, for nobody does. Now, I have a great deal of influence with my young mistress, and I will persuade her to let you go to Spain in her suite. Think of it! How fine it will be to hear the pretty senoritas tinkling their guitars, to pluck the olives from the trees--not that I care for them when they are plucked--and to see that great palace which the Spanish sovereigns snatched from the Moors; and they say there is a bedstead made from the gold that the Admiral Columbus brought from the new lands across the sea; perhaps, if we manage it right we may be allowed to sleep in that--in the bed, I mean, not the sea." "Do not talk to me of Spain," said Philibert impatiently. "I hate the country, and I never want to see it." "Philibert, my boy," said the fool, not at all disturbed by this outburst, "you are growing quick-tempered. I have noticed it for some time. Try to cultivate a sweet and gentle disposition. I hope I am not conceited, but really you would be more agreeable if you were more like me."