I thought the fellow would flare into a rage, but to my surprise he threw back his head and laughed a long trilling laugh almost like the song of a bird. When he ceased, he laid his palms on his hips and bowed mockingly at us. “I told you yesterday that I was a fool,” he said. “I am the same today—a king’s fool. Look!” He put his hand into his coat again and drew out a silly-looking cap, which he placed over one ear, and a bauble with tiny bells. He shook it with the glee of a child. The more it tinkled, the broader grew his grin. As though he was actually captivated by the sound, he began to caper about and finally struck into a quickly moving dance. He stopped as suddenly as he began. Then he bowed once more. “Now,” he exclaimed, “can you tell me, sirs, where I can find a position?” “—as a fool?” I asked with a smile. “Yes,” he answered. “Why,” I replied, “by what I have seen you are clever enough to amuse the King of France himself.” He jerked his head around and shot a look at me. For one second I saw a flash of hate and anger. In the next a wise smile curled about his mouth. “Strange words,” he muttered and repeated it. “Strange words to fall from the lips of a Norman lad. Have you all grown so weak? There was a time when the gentry of Normandy thought the only way to amuse the King of France was with spears and swords and battle-axes, not with such toys as these.” He spoke slowly and with a half smile, but under it lay a sting that cut me to the bone. I cast a sidelong glance at Le Brun who stood scowling as black as night, but withal puzzled. He was no good hand at solving of riddles nor in the sifting of double meaning statements. His way was with a cuff or blow, and there an end to it. “Is this a jest, sir Fool?” I asked. “Would you have the Norman barons arm themselves and fight when there is no need for it?” For a reply all that he did was to break into a long low whistle and toss the bauble into the air. When it came down, he caught it with great deftness and twirled it about in his fingers. Then he shrugged his shoulders. “There was a meeting at Rouen——” he said and curled his brows, as though I ought to understand the rest. “I know that,” I replied quickly. “There was a meeting of the Norman barons at Rouen——” Here I stopped and eyed him closely. “Such things were better left to themselves. For all I know, sir Fool, to give you a short answer, I may even be talking to a King’s spy.” The man tossed his head to one side and uttered a little painful laugh. “The Black Prince of England,” he went on as though he would brush my objection aside, “has left Bordeaux. He is ranging along the western coast of France. There is no one to oppose him. Not a soldier of the King is within a hundred leagues. He is toppling over one castle after the other——Suppose,” he said closing one eye and looking at me cunningly, “the King of France were to rush towards the west to destroy him? Would any of you Normans come to his aid?”