"My beloved Louis is quite merry this morning," observed Blanche caressingly and approaching her husband's lounge. "Whence proceeds the mirth of my dear husband?"
"That idiot could make a dead man laugh with his capers. Ho, there, Calf! Come this way, you scamp, or I'll have your bones broken!"
"Seigneur King," said one of the attendants after glancing around the room for Yvon, "the Calf must have escaped at the moment when the door was opened to admit the Queen. He is not here, nor in the adjoining room."
"Fetch him back, he can not be far!" cried the King impatiently and with rising anger. "Bring him back here immediately!"
One of the seigneurs hurried out to execute the King's orders, while Blanche letting herself down near him, said, smiling tenderly: "I shall try, my beloved seigneur, to enable you to wait patiently for the idiot's return."
"Fetch him back. All of you run after him; the more of you look after him, the quicker will he be found."
Bowing to the King's orders, the courtiers trooped out of the apartment in search of Yvon.
Blanche remained alone with her husband, whose face, that for a moment had brightened up, speedily resumed its normal expression of lassitude. The Queen had thrown off her simple vestment of the morning to don a more elaborate costume. Her black hair, braided with pearls, was combed with skill. She wore an orange colored robe of rich material, with wide flowing sleeves, leaving half exposed her breast and shoulders. A collar and gold bracelets studded with precious stones ornamented her neck and arms. Still reclining on his lounge, now shared by his wife who sat down at its edge, Louis did not even bestow a glance upon her. With his head leaning upon one of the pillows, he was mumbling: "You will see the clumsy fellows will turn out more stupid than the idiot; they will not catch him."
"In such a disastrous event," replied Blanche with an insinuating smile, "I shall have to console you, my darling. Why is your face so careworn? Will you not deign as much as to throw your eyes upon your wife, your humble servant?"
Louis indolently turned his head towards his wife and said: "How dressed up you are!"
"Does this dress please my amiable master?" inquired the Queen caressingly; but noticing that the King suddenly shivered, became gloomy and brusquely turned away his head, she added: "What is the matter, Louis?"
