in the elaborate headgear and robes of a dignitary of the household.

"How now, Master Stephen!" he said sternly. "What foolery is this?"

"Only a showman, Conrad," grinned the jester. "He has a puppet-show in
those fat bags of his. Did you think I was trying to smuggle meat-puddings
out of the kitchens for my own solitary meals?"

The steward was not satisfied. "Show me the puppets," he ordered. Giovanni
obeyed.

The steward scrutinized the bride and her maidens, pulled the strings
which moved the humpbacked jester, fingered the costumes, and then with a
curt nod bade them go on. "But mind you, Master Stephen," he said, shaking
a long finger at the fool, "you are to be responsible for these fellows
and keep them in sight from now until the time of the feast. If aught goes
amiss you shall be whipt."

The jester giggled, shook his bells, and began to climb a long flight of
stairs in a tower opening on the courtyard, beckoning the two youths to
follow him. Up and up they climbed, until at last the fool turned and
motioned them to halt.

"Come within," he said to Giovanni. "Let your servant await you with your
baggage on the landing here. He will tell us if any one approaches."

The room in which Giovanni found himself was a small wainscoted apartment
in the top of the tower, furnished in a grotesque fashion well suited to
the humped and twisted figure of its master. The jester flung off his tall
curved cap and seated himself on the corner of a table. From a flask he