Come hither, rusticity."

He beckoned, and Perpetua moved slowly towards him, outwardly calm. "Do you take me for your lord and master?" he asked her.

"Ay," Perpetua answered.

Lycabetta looked at the girl's grave face in amaze. "This is a wonder,"

she said; "she seems spellbound."

Robert nodded joyously. "Why, I have cast the glamour upon her, and she will listen to me as the fish listened to St. Anthony. Will you swear to obey me, maiden?"

Again Perpetua answered, "Ay."

"Are you in league with the devil?" Lycabetta asked, astonished at the girl's acquiescence.

Robert grinned impishly. "I will not sell my secret. I suppose you do not care how I conquer the maid, so long as I do conquer her."

"So long as you do what the King wishes," Lycabetta answered, contemptuously.

"I swear I will do what the King wishes," Robert retorted. "She shall be humble enough, she shall be wise enough when I am done with her. You are skilled in mischief; but I still could be your school-master. Did you ever hear of Orpheus and his magic lute?"

"What of it?" Lycabetta asked.

"He could pipe so divinely," Robert related, "that all things must needs follow him, not merely men and women, birds and beasts, but silly stocks and stones; and your phlegmatic stay-at-home tree would needs uproot itself and skip to his jingle. Well, you shall see this intractable virgin follow, lamblike, when I pipe, as I lead the way to my hovel."

"If you can do this, I shall be glad to be rid of her," Lycabetta confessed. "I have better use for my hours than the training of country girls."

Robert came nearer to her, confiding: "I know a spell my master mountebank taught me. A Greek fellow made it, a Roman rogue stole it, an Italian rascal gave a new twist to it; here is the pith of it. Oh, it sounds simple enough, but it will win a matron from her allegiance, a nun from her orisons, a maid from her modesty. See, now, how she will trip to my whistle. Mistress Modesty, Mistress Modesty, follow me home, follow me home, follow me home!"

He took up the lute Euphrosyne had laid down, and moved around the room slowly, playing a quaint little country-side air in a minor key, while he chanted his song, and, as he went, Perpetua moved slowly after him, as if compelled by the spell of the music:

[Illustration: "PERPETUA MOVED SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM"]

"By the music of the morn, When equipped with spear and shield, Oberon, the elfin-born, Winding on his wizard horn, Calls the fairies to the field-- I conjure thee, maiden, yield!

"By the magic of the moon, When Diana from her dome Wakes from slumber, woos from swoon All the folk who fear the noon, Dwarf and kobold, witch and gnome-- I conjure thee, maiden, come!

"By the beauty, by the bliss Of the ancient gods who ride Eros, Phoebus, Artemis, Aphrodite, side by side, Through the purple eventide, On the cloudy steeds of Dis-- I conjure thee, maiden, kiss."

Lycabetta watched, astounded, the submission with which Perpetua followed the incantation of the fool. "This is the black magic," she said; and then asked Perpetua, "Are you content to follow this fool?"

Perpetua paused in her patient following of the singer, and, looking Lycabetta full in the face, she answered, "Ay."

Lycabetta raised protesting hands. "And to go with him where he will?"

she persisted.

Again Perpetua answered, "Ay."

Robert interrupted the colloquy with a sweep of the strings that drifted into a new tune with new words:

"Caper, sweeting, while I play; Love and lover, we will stray Over the hills and far away."

He beckoned to the girl and ambled backward towards the entrance, obediently followed by Perpetua.

As he was about to pass luting through the entrance, Lysidice parted the curtains and entered the room. Robert fell back to give her passage.

With a reverence to Lycabetta, she said:

"The Lord Hildebrand waits without."

The news brought very different thoughts to the three hearers.

Lycabetta, always willing to welcome the King's favorite, gave order gladly enough to admit him. In Robert's mind the name rekindled hopes that had died away. His heart's friend, his brother in arms, the companion of his vices, the flatterer of his follies, he surely would not be deceived by the fantastic transformation. Flinging aside his lute, he shouted, joyously: "Hildebrand! Surely he will know me."

Perpetua's heart grew cold at this proof of renewed madness, and she caught him by the arm. "Do not abandon me," she entreated.

Robert shook her off in his eagerness to greet Hildebrand. "No, no, have no fear--" he promised, hurriedly, pressing forward towards the entrance. The hangings parted and Hildebrand entered, exquisite, debonair, radiant.

"Salutations, sweet lady," he said, gayly, advancing towards her, but his advance was interrupted by Robert, who rushed forward, exclaiming: "Hildebrand! Hildebrand! do you not know me? Do you not know my voice?"

Hildebrand frowned resentfully on the intruder. "Why are you here, fool!" he grumbled. "Your head and your hump are like to part company."

Robert gave a great groan and turned away. His last hope had withered.

The spell under which he suffered was too potent for his dearest friend to resist; even the eye of comradeship could not pierce through that fleshly mask; even the ear of affection could not discern a familiar voice. Perpetua stood where she was, full of dread at this untimely interruption. Lycabetta tapped her forehead mockingly as she looked from Diogenes to Hildebrand.

"The crazy zany thinks he is the King," she said.

Hildebrand nodded. "He mimicked the King so pertly yesterday morn that the King doomed him, and fear has so addled his weak wits that he believes himself to be his master."

"Yet he is a cunning rogue," Lycabetta added, "for he has won the heart of the woodchuck."

Hildebrand caught at her words. "I came on that business. Have you obeyed the King?"

"Bravely," Lycabetta replied. "I flung her to this fool for a marriage morsel, knowing him to be as cruel as he is crooked, and, by our Lady of Lesbos, he has bewitched her, and she follows his songs like a lamb to the sacrifice."

At the sound of her words, Robert roused himself from his lethargy. "Ay, ay," he chirped, "you shall see. She will follow where I call. Come, sweetheart, come!"

Again he began to move, and again he was followed by Perpetua. Now, for the first time, Hildebrand caught sight of her and moved forward, captured by her loveliness.

"Is this the King's fancy?" he asked.

Lycabetta answered: "This is the girl the King sent me to tame and shame for him. Could I do it better than by giving her to this limping devil?"

Hildebrand struck his hands loudly together in protest. "Ay, by the gods, much better. She is far too fair for the first sweetness of her youth to be wasted on a clumsy clown. We are ourselves indifferent good at this taming and the rest, and, like a loyal subject, I will gladly serve the King in this." He advanced towards Perpetua, but Robert instantly came between them.

"The girl is mine," he asserted. "You shall not take her from me."

Hildebrand grinned maliciously. "Gently, beast, gently," he purred. "You shall have your turn by-and-by. You must give place to your betters, bowback."

Robert glared at him in hate. "I say you shall not have her!" he repeated.

Lycabetta burst into a fit of laughing. "Have a care, my lord," she warned; "the fool's eyes roll horridly, and his mouth twitches. He will do you hurt if you steal his leman."