Count William of Holland dearly loved pluck and nerve.
“Well, daughter mine,” he said, “then will he keep his pledge. Friend Otto is a brave young gallant, else had he never dared raised spear and banner, as he did, against his rightful liege.”
“But, my father,” persisted the gentle-hearted girl, “spear and banner are not lions’ jaws. And surely you may not in honor permit the wilful murder of a hostage.”
“Nay, madam, have no fear,” the Lord of Arkell said, bending in courteous recognition of her interest; “that which I do of mine own free will is no murder, even should it fail.”
A raised gallery looked down into the spacious inclosure in which Count William kept the living specimens of his own princely badge of the lion. And here the company gathered to see the sport.
With the gray gabardine drawn but loosely over his silken suit, so that he might, if need be, easily slip from it, Otto von Arkell boldly entered the inclosure.
“Soho, Juno! up, Hercules; hollo, up, Ajax!” cried Count William, from the balcony. “Here cometh a right royal playfellow--up, up, my beauties!” and the great brutes, roused by the voice of their master, pulled themselves up, shook themselves awake, and stared at the intruder.
Boldly and without hesitation, while all the watchers had eyes but for him alone, the young Lord of Arkell walked straight up to Hercules, the largest of the three, and laid his hand caressingly upon the shaggy mane. Close to his side pressed Juno, the lioness, and, so says the record of the old Dutch chronicler, von Hildegaersberch, “the lions did him no harm; he played with them as if they had been dogs.”
But Ajax, fiercest of the three, took no notice of the lad. Straight across his comrades he looked to where, scarce a rod behind the daring lad, came another figure, a light and graceful form in clinging robes of blue and undergown of cloth of gold--the Princess Jacqueline herself!
The watchers in the gallery followed the lion’s stare, and saw, with horror, the advancing figure of this fair young girl. A cry of terror broke from every lip. The Dauphin John turned pale with fright, and Count William of Holland, calling out, “Down, Ajax! back, girl, back!” sprang to his feet as if he would have vaulted over the gallery rail.