The eunuch fell to his knees again, and prayed jabberingly--this time
for his own soul. The jester softly trod the length and breadth of the
stone flaggings, and stopped to peer at the corpse and its face. "Jesu
ha' mercy," he repeated ofttimes; "Jesu ha' mercy!"
The pulsating suspense broke with the reentrance of the captain. Over
his shoulder was slung a dark, limp burden which he swung down and
held out in the crook of his thick arms, as if it were a doll.
"Twas a tussle the young peacock gave me," he said thickly. "Look
ye--I have lost my flambeau, but come to the window and take a squint
at him." He held the figure up to the grating, to where the moon shone
pale on its face and tumbled locks and over its gay-colored tunic, and
lustered its silken hose.
"By St. Godfrey, what a handsome lad! Who is he?"
"Methinks he is a squire but lately come to court, so there'll be few
to miss him, when the night's work is done."
The jester sighed. "So young he is and fair. See that great purple
welt across his forehead."
"'Twas where I clubbed him senseless.
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