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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jester's Sword + How Aldebaran, the King's Son Wore the Sheathed Sword of Conquest + +Author: Annie Fellows Johnston + +Release Date: April 6, 2012 [EBook #39385] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER'S SWORD *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="359" height="600" alt="cover of The Jester's Sword by Annie Fellows Johnston" /> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h1><i>The<br /> +JESTER'S SWORD</i></h1> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='center'> <table class="books" summary="books"> +<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<div class='adtitle'><br /><br />The Johnston Jewel Series<br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class='center'><span class="smcap">By Annie Fellows Johnston</span><br /><br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='blockquot'>Each, small 16mo, cloth, +decorated cover and frontispiece, +with decorative text +borders <i>75c.</i></div> + + + +<div class='center'><br />————————<br /><span class="smcap">List of Titles</span><br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS +WINSOME: A Fairy Play for Old +and Young.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>KEEPING TRYST: A Tale of King +Arthur's Time.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>*IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: +The Legend of Camelback Mountain.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>*THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy +Tale for Fathers and Mothers as +Well as for Their Daughters.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING +HEART.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'>*THE JESTER'S SWORD.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='blockquot'><br /><br /> *Also bound in full flexible leather, +with special tooling in gold, boxed</div> + +<div class='center'><i>$2.00</i><br /><br /> + +————————<br /><br /> + + +THE PAGE COMPANY<br /> +<span class="smcap">53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.</span><br /> +</div> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td> +</tr></table></div> +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="352" height="600" alt="On the street" /> +</div> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class='center'> <table class="title" summary="title"> +<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h1><br /> <br /> <br /> <i>THE JESTER'S<br /> +SWORD</i></h1> + +<div class='center'> +—————————————<br /> + +<div class='adtitle2'>How Aldebaran, the King's Son, +Wore the Sheathed Sword of +Conquest</div> + +—————————————<br /> + +BY<br /> +<span class='author'>ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</span><br /> + +<i><span class='small'>Author of "The Little Colonel Series," "Big Brother,"</span><br /> +<span class='small'>"Joel: A Boy of Galilee," "In the Desert of Waiting," etc.</span></i><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 144px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="144" height="150" alt="emblem" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br /> +BOSTON<br /> +<i><span class='big'>THE PAGE COMPANY</span></i><br /> +Publishers<br /> +</div> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td> +</tr></table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='copyright'> +<i>Copyright, 1908</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> +(INCORPORATED)<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1909</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> +(INCORPORATED)<br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> +<br /> +First Impression, June, 1909<br /> +Second Impression, August, 1909<br /> +Third Impression, October, 1910<br /> +Fourth Impression, November, 1911<br /> +Fifth Impression, November, 1912<br /> +Sixth Impression, January, 1916<br /> +Seventh Impression, August, 1917<br /> +Eighth Impression, April, 1920<br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>TO</span><br /> +John<br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='blockquot'>"<i>To renounce when that shall be +necessary and not be embittered.</i>"<br /> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</span><br /> +</div></div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><i>The Jester's Sword</i></h2> + + +<div class='cap'>BECAUSE he was born +in Mars' month, which +is ruled by that red war-god, +they gave him the name of +a red star—Aldebaran; the +red star that is the eye of +Taurus. And because he +was born in Mars' month, +the bloodstone became his +signet, sure token that undaunted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +courage would be +the jewel of his soul.</div> + +<p>Now all his brothers were +as stalwart and as straight +of limb as he, and each one's +horoscope held signs foretelling +valorous deeds. But +Aldebaran's so far out-blazed +them all, with comet's trail +and planets in most favourable +conjunction, that from +his first year it was known +the Sword of Conquest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +should be his. This sword +had passed from sire to son +all down a line of kings. +Not to the oldest one always, +as did the throne, though +now and then the lot fell so, +but to the one to whom the +signs all pointed as being +worthiest to wield it.</p> + +<p>So from the cradle it was +destined for Aldebaran, and +from the cradle it was his +greatest teacher. His old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +nurse fed him with such tales +of it, that even in his play +the thought of such an heritage +urged him to greater +ventures than his mates +dared take. Many a night +he knelt beside his casement, +gazing through the darkness +at the red eye of Taurus, +whispering to himself the +words the old astrologers +had written, "<i>As Aldebaran +the star shines in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +heavens, Aldebaran the +man shall shine among +his fellows.</i>"</p> + +<p>Day after day the great +ambition grew within him, +bone of his bone and strength +of his sinew, until it was as +much a part of him as the +strong heart beating in his +breast. But only to one did +he give voice to it, to the +maiden Vesta, who had always +shared his play. Now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +it chanced that she, too, bore +the name of a star, and when +he told her what the astrologers +had written, she repeated +the words of her own +destiny:</p> + +<p>"<i>As Vesta the star keeps +watch in the heavens above +the hearths of mortals, so +Vesta the maiden shall keep +eternal vigil beside the heart +of him who of all men is the +bravest.</i>"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Aldebaran heard +that he swore by the bloodstone +on his finger that when +the time was ripe for him to +wield the sword he would +show the world a far greater +courage than it had ever +known before. And Vesta +smiling, promised by that +same token to keep vigil by +one fire only, the fire that +she had kindled in his heart.</p> + +<p>One by one his elder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +brothers grew up and went +out into the world to win +their fortunes, and like a +restless steed that frets +against the rein, impatient +to be off, he chafed against +delay and longed to follow. +For now the ambition that +had grown with his growth +had come to be more than +bone of his bone and +strength of his sinew. It +was an all-consuming desire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +which coursed through him +even as his heart's blood; +for with the years had come +an added reason for the +keeping of his youthful vow. +Only in that way could +Vesta's destiny be linked +with his.</p> + +<p>When the great day came +at last for the Sword to be +put into his hands, with a +blare of trumpets the castle +gates flew open, and a long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +procession of nobles filed +through. To the sound of +cheers and ringing of bells, +Aldebaran fared forth on +his quest. The old king, +his father, stepped down in +the morning sun, and with +bared head Aldebaran knelt +to receive his blessing. +With his hand on the Sword +he swore that he would not +come home again, until he +had made a braver conquest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +than had ever been made +with it before, and by the +bloodstone on his finger the +old king knew that Aldebaran +would fail not in the +keeping of that oath.</p> + +<p>With the godspeed of the +villagers ringing in his ears, +he rode away. Only once +he paused to look back, +when a white hand fluttered +at a casement, and Vesta's +sorrowful face shone down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +on him like a star. Then +she, too, saw the bloodstone +on his finger as he waved +her a farewell, and she, too, +knew by that token he +would fail not in the keeping +of his oath.</p> + +<p>'Twas passing wonderful +how soon Aldebaran began +to taste the sweets of great +achievement. His name was +on the tongue of every troubadour, +his deeds in every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +minstrel's song. And +though he travelled far to +alien lands, scarce known by +hearsay even to the folk at +home, his fame was carried +back, far over seas again, +and in his father's court his +name was spoken daily in +proud tones, as they recounted +all his honours.</p> + +<p>Young, strong, with the +impetuous blood begotten of +success tingling through all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +his veins, he had no thought +that dire mishap could seize +on <i>him;</i> that pain or malady +or mortal weakness could +pierce <i>his</i> armour, which +youth and health had girt +about him. From place to +place he went, wherever there +was need of some brave +champion to espouse a weak +ones cause. It mattered not +who was arrayed against him, +whether a tyrant king, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +dragon breathing fire, or +some hideous scaly monster +that preyed upon the villages. +His Sword of Conquest was +unsheathed for each; and as +his courage grew with every +added victory, he thirsted for +some greater foe to vanquish, +remembering his +youthful vow.</p> + +<p>And as he journeyed on he +pictured often to himself the +day of his returning, the day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +on which his vow should +find fulfilment. How wide +the gates would be thrown +open for his welcome! How +loud would swell the cheers +of those who thronged to do +him honour! His dreams +were always of that triumphal +entrance, and of Vesta's +approving smile. Never once +the shadow of a thought +stole through his mind that +it might be far otherwise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +Was not he born for conquest? +Did not the very +stars foretell success?</p> + +<p>One night, belated in a +mountain pass, he sought +the shelter of a shelving rock, +and with his mantle wrapped +about him lay down to sleep. +Upon the morrow he would +sally forth and beard the +Province Terror in his stronghold; +would challenge him +to combat, and after long and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +glorious battle would rid the +country of its dreaded foe. +Already tasting victory, he +fell asleep, a smile upon his +lips.</p> + +<p>But in the night a storm +swept down the mountain +pass with sudden fury, uprooting +trees a century old, +and rending mighty rocks +with sword thrusts of its +lightning. And when it +passed Aldebaran lay prone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +upon the earth borne down by +rocks and fallen trees. Lay +as if dead until two passing +goat-herds found him and +bore him down in pity to +their hut.</p> + +<p>Long weeks went by before +the fever craze and pains +began to leave him, and when +at last he crawled out in the +sun, he found himself a poor +misshapen thing, all maimed +and marred, with twisted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +back and face all drawn awry +and foot that dragged. One +hand hung nerveless by his +side. Never more would it +be strong enough to use the +Sword. He could not even +draw it from its scabbard.</p> + +<p>As in a daze he looked +upon himself, thinking some +hideous nightmare had him +in its hold. "That is not +<i>I!</i>" he cried, in horror at the +thought. Then as the truth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +began to pierce his soul, he +sat with starting eyes and lips +that gibbered in cold fear, the +while they still persisted in +their fierce denial. "This is +not <i>I!</i>"</p> + +<p>Again he said it and again +as if his frenzied words could +work a miracle and make him +as he was before. Then when +the sickening sense of his calamity +swept over him like a +flood in all its fulness, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +cast himself upon the earth +and prayed to die. Despair +had seized him. But Death +comes not at such a call; +kind Death, who waits that +one may have a chance to +rise again and grapple with +the foe that downed him, and +conquering, wipe the stigma +coward from his soul.</p> + +<p>So with Aldebaran. At +first it seemed that he could +not endure to face the round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +of useless days now stretching +out before him. An eagle, +broken winged and drooping +in a cage, he sat within the +goat-herd's hut and gloomed +upon his lot, and cursed the +vital force within that would +not let him die.</p> + +<p>To fall asleep with all the +world within one's grasp and +waken empty-handed—that +is small bane to one who may +spring up again, and by sheer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +might wrest all his treasures +back from Fortune. But to +wake helpless as well as +empty-handed, the strength +for ever gone from arms that +were invincible; to crawl, a +poor crushed worm, the mark +for all men's pity, where one +had thought to win the meed +of all men's praise, ah, then +to live is agony! Each breath +becomes a venomed adder's +sting.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Most of all Aldebaran +thought of Vesta. The stroke +that marred his comeliness +and took his strength had +robbed him of all power to +win his happiness. It was +written "by the hearth of him +who is the bravest she shall +keep eternal vigil." As yet +he had not risen above the +level of his forbears' bravery, +only up to it. Now 'twas impossible +to show the world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +a greater courage, shorn as he +was of strength. And even +had her horoscope willed +otherwise, and she should +come to him all filled with +maiden pity to share his +ruined hearth, he could not +say her yea. His man's pride +rose up in him, rebellious at +the thought of pity from one +in whose sight he fain would +be all that is strong and +comely. Looking down upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +his twisted limbs, the pain +that racked him was greater +torture than mere flesh can +feel. Although 'twas casting +heaven from him, he drew his +mantle closer, hiding his disfigured +form, and prayed with +groans and writhings that +she might never look on him +again. So days went by.</p> + +<p>There came a time when, +even through his all-absorbing +thought of self, there pierced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +the consciousness that he no +longer could impose upon the +goat-herds' bounty. Food +was scarce within the hut, +and even though he groaned +to die, the dawns brought +hunger. So at the close of +day he dragged him down the +mountainside, thinking that +under cover of the dusk he +would steal into the village +and seek a chance to earn +his bread.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>But as he neared the little +town and the sound of evening +bells broke on his ear, +and lighted windows marked +the homes where welcome +waited other men, he winced +as from a blow. This was +the village he had thought +to enter in the midst of loud +acclaims, its brave deliverer +from the Province Terror. +Then every window in the +hamlet would have blazed for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +him. Then every door would +have been set wide to welcome +Aldebaran, the royal +son of kings, fittest to bear +the Sword of Conquest. And +now Aldebaran was but the +crippled makeshift of a man, +who could not even draw that +Sword from out its scabbard; +at whose wry features all +must turn away in loathing, +and some perchance might +even set the dogs to snarling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +at his heels, in haste to have +him gone.</p> + +<p>"In all the world," he cried +in bitterness, "there breathes +no other man whom Faith +hath used so cruelly! Emptied +of hope, robbed of my all, life +doth become a prison-house +that dooms me to its lowest +dungeon! Why struggle any +longer 'gainst my lot? Why +not lie here and starve, and +thus force Death to turn the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +key, and break the manacles +which bind me to my misery?"</p> + +<p>While he thus mused, footsteps +came up the mountainside, +a lusty voice was raised +in song, and before he could +draw back into cover, a head +in a fantastic cap appeared +above the bushes. It was +the village Jester capering +along the path as if the world +were thistledown and every +day a holiday. But when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +saw Aldebaran he stopped +agape and crossed himself. +Then he pushed nearer.</p> + +<p>Now those who saw the +Jester only on a market day +or at the country fair plying +his trade of merriment for all +'twas worth knew not a sage +was hid behind that motley +or that his sympathies were +tender as a saint's. Yet so it +was. The motto written deep +across his heart was this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +"<i>To ease the burden of the +world!</i>" It was beyond belief +how wise he'd grown in +wheedling men to think no +load lay on their shoulders. +Now he stood and gazed +upon the prostrate man who +turned away his face and +would not answer his low-spoken +words: "What ails +thee, brother?"</p> + +<p>It boots not in this tale +what wiles he used to gain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +Aldebaran's ear and tongue. +Another man most surely +must have failed, because he +shrank from pity as from salt +rubbed in a wound, and felt +that none could hear his woeful +history and not bestow +that pity. But if the Jester felt +its throbs he gave no sign. +Seated beside him on the +grass he talked in the light +tone that served his trade, as +if Aldebaran's woes were but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +a flight of swallows 'cross +a summer sky, and would as +soon be gone. And when between +his quirks he'd drawn +the piteous tale entirely from +him, he doubled up with +laughter and smote his sides.</p> + +<p>"And I'm the fool and +thou'rt the sage!" he gasped +between his peals of mirth. +"Gadzooks! Methinks it is +the other way around. Why, +look ye, man! Here thou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +dost go a-junketing through +all the earth to find a chance +to show unequalled courage, +and when kind Fate doth +shove it underneath thy very +nose, thou turn'st away, +lamenting. I've heard of +those who know not beans although +the bag be opened, +and now I laugh to see one +of that very kind before +me."</p> + +<p>Then dropping his unseemly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +mirth and all his +wanton raillery, he stood up +with his face a-shine, and +spake as if he were the +heaven-sent messenger of +hope.</p> + +<p>"Rise up!" he cried. +"<i>Knowest thou not it takes +a thousandfold more courage +to sheathe the sword when +one is all on fire for action +than to go forth against the +greatest foe?</i> Here is thy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +chance to show the world the +kingliest spirit it has ever +known! Here is a phalanx +thou mayst meet all single-handed—a +daily struggle +with a host of hurts that cut +thee to the quick. This +sheathèd sword upon thy side +will stab thee hourly with +deeper thrusts than any adversary +can give. 'Twill be a +daily 'minder of thy thwarted +hopes. For foiled ambition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +is the hydra-headed monster +of the Lerna marsh. Two +heads will rise for every one +thou severest. 'Twill be a +fight till death. Art brave +enough to lift the gauntlet +that Despair flings down and +wage this warfare to thy very +grave?'"</p> + +<p>Such call to arms seemed +mockery as Aldebaran looked +down upon his twisted limbs, +but as the bloodstone on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +finger met his sight his kingly +soul leapt up. "I'll keep the +oath!" he cried, and struggling +to his feet laid hand +upon the jewelled hilt that +decked his side.</p> + +<p>"By sheathèd sword, since +blade is now denied me," he +swore. "I'll win the future +that my stars foretold!"</p> + +<p>In that exalted moment all +things seemed possible, and +though his body limped as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +haltingly he followed on behind +his new-found friend, his +spirit walked erect, and faced +his future for the time, undaunted.</p> + +<p>His merry-Andrew of a +host made festival when they +at last came to his dwelling; +lit a great fire upon the +hearth, brewed him a drink +that warmed him to the +core, brought wheaten loaves +and set a bit of savoury<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +meat to turning on the +spit.</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" he laughed. +"They say it is an ill wind +that blows good to none. +Now thou dost prove the +proverb. The tempest that +didst blow thee from thy +course mayhap may send me +on my way rejoicing. I long +have wished to leave this +land and seek the distant +province where my kindred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +dwell, but there was never +one to take my place. And +when I spake of going, my +townsmen said me nay. +'Twas quite as bad, they +vowed, as if the priest should +suddenly desert his parish, +with none to shepherd his +abandoned flock. 'Who'll +cheer us in our doldrums?' +they demanded. 'Who'll +help us bear our troubles by +making us forget them?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +Thou canst not leave us, +Piper, until some other merry +soul comes by to set our feet +a-dancing.' Now thou art +come."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>I!</i> A merry soul indeed!" +Aldebaran cried in +bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe not quite +that," his host admitted. "But +thou couldst pass as one. +Thou couldst at least put on +my grotesque garb, couldst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +learn the quips and quirks +by which I make men laugh. +Thou wouldst not be the +first man who has hid an +aching heart behind a smile. +The tune thou pipest may +not bring <i>thee</i> pleasure, but +if it sets the world to dancing +it is enough. And, too, it is +an honest way to earn thy +bread. Canst think of any +other?"</p> + +<p>Aldebaran hid his face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +within his hands. "No, no!" +he groaned. "There is no +other way, and yet my soul +abhors the thought, that I, a +king's son, should descend to +this! The jester's motley and +the cap and bells. How can +<i>I</i> play such a part?"</p> + +<p>"Because thou <i>art</i> a king's +son," said the Jester. "That +in itself is ample reason that +thou shouldst play more +royally than other men whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +part Fate may assign +thee."</p> + +<p>Aldebaran sat wrapped in +thought. "Well," was the +slow reply after long pause, +"an hundred years from now, +I suppose, 'twill make no +difference how circumstances +chafe me now. A poor philosophy, +but still there is a +grain of comfort in it. I'll +take thy offer, friend, and +give thee gratitude."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so next day the two +went forth together. Aldebaran +showed a brave front +to the crowd, glad of the +painted mask that hid his +features, and no one guessed +the misery that lurked beneath +his laugh, and no one +knew what mighty tax it was +upon his courage to follow +in the Jester's lead and play +buffoon upon the open street. +It was a thing he loathed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and yet, 'twas as the Jester +said, his training in the royal +court had made him sharp of +wit and quick to read men's +minds; and to the countrymen +who gathered there +agape, around him in the +square, his keen replies were +wonderful as wizard's magic.</p> + +<p>And when he piped—it +was no shallow fluting that +merely set the rustic feet +a-jig, it was a strange and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +stirring strain that made the +simplest one among them +stand with his soul a-tiptoe, +as he listened, as if a kingly +train with banners went +a-marching by. So royally +he played his part, that even +on that first day he surpassed +his teacher. The Jester, jubilant +that this was so, thought +that his time to leave was +near at hand, but when that +night they reached his dwelling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +Aldebaran tore off the +painted mask and threw himself +upon the hearth.</p> + +<p>"'Tis more than flesh can +well endure!" he cried. "All +day the thought of what I've +lost was like a constant +sword-thrust in my heart. +Instead of deference and respect +that once was mine +from high and low, 'twas +laugh and jibe and pointing +finger. And, too" (his voice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +grew shrill and querulous), +"I saw young lovers straying +in the lanes together. +How can I endure that sight +day after day when my arms +must remain for ever empty? +And little children prattled +by their father's side no matter +where I turned. I, who +shall never know a little son's +caress, felt like a starving +man who looks on bread and +may not eat. Far better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +that I crawl away from +haunts of men where I need +never be tormented by such +contrasts."</p> + +<p>The Jester looked down +on Aldebaran's wan face. +It was as white and drawn +as if he had been tortured by +the rack and thumbscrew, so +he made no answer for the +moment. But when the fire +was kindled, and they had +supped the broth set out in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +steaming bowls upon the +table, he ventured on a word +of cheer.</p> + +<p>"At any rate," he said, +"for one whole day thou hast +kept thy oath. No matter +what the anguish that it cost +thee, from sunrise to sunsetting +thou hast held Despair +at bay. It was the bravest +stand that thou hast ever +made. And now, if thou hast +lived through this one day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +why not another? 'Tis only +one hour at a time that +thou art called on to endure. +Come! By the bloodstone +that is thy birthright, pledge +me anew thou'lt keep thy +oath until the going down +of one more sun."</p> + +<p>So Aldebaran pledged him +one more day, and after that +another and another, until a +fortnight slowly dragged itself +away. And then because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +he met his hurt so bravely +and made no sign, the Jester +thought the struggle had +grown easier with time, and +spoke again of going to his +kindred.</p> + +<p>"Nay, do not leave me yet," +Aldebaran plead. "Wouldst +take my only crutch? It is +thy cheerful presence that +alone upholds me."</p> + +<p>"Yet it would show still +greater courage if thou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +couldst face thy fate alone," +the Jester answered. "Despair +cannot be vanquished +till thou hast taught thyself +to really feel the gladness +thou dost feign. I've heard +that if one will count his +blessings as the faithful tell +their rosary beads he will +forget his losses in pondering +on his many benefits. Perchance +if thou wouldst try +that plan it might avail."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>So Aldebaran went out determined +to be glad in heart +as well as speech, if so be it +he could find enough of cheer. +"I will be glad," he said, "because +the morning sun shines +warm across my face." He +slipped a golden beam upon +his memory string.</p> + +<p>"I will be glad because +that there are diamond sparkles +on the grass and larks +are singing in the sky." A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +dew-drop and a bird's trill +for his rosary.</p> + +<p>"I will be glad for bread, +for water from the spring, for +eyesight and the power to +smell the budding lilacs by +the door; for friendly greetings +from the villages."</p> + +<p>A goodly rosary, symbol +of all the things for which +he should be glad, was in +his hand at close of day. He +swung it gaily by the hearth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +that night, recounting all his +blessings till the Jester +thought, "At last he's found +the cure."</p> + +<p>But suddenly Aldebaran +flung the rosary from him +and hid his face within his +hands. "'Twill drive me +mad!" he cried. "To go on +stringing baubles that do but +set my mind the firmer on +the priceless jewel I have +lost. May heaven forgive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +me! I am not really glad. +'Tis all a hollow mockery +and pretence!"</p> + +<p>Then was the Jester at his +wit's end for a reply. It was +a welcome sound when presently +a knocking at the door +broke on the painful silence. +The visitor who entered was +an aged friar beseeching alms +at every door, as was the custom +of his brotherhood, with +which to help the sick and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +poor. And while the Jester +searched within a chest for +some old garments he was +pleased to give, he bade the +friar draw up to the hearth +and tarry for their evening +meal, which then was well-nigh +ready. The friar, glad +to accept the hospitality, +spread out his lean hands +to the blaze, and later, when +the three sat down together, +warmed into such a cheerfulness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +of speech that Aldebaran +was amazed.</p> + +<p>"Surely thy lot is hard, +good brother," he said, looking +curiously into the +wrinkled face. "Humbling +thy pride to beg at every +door, forswearing thine own +good in every way that +others may be fed, and yet +thy face speaks an inward +joy. I pray thee tell me how +thou hast found happiness."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>By never going in its +quest</i>," the friar answered. +"Long years ago I learned +a lesson from the stars. Our +holy Abbot took me out one +night into the quiet cloister, +and pointing to the glittering +heavens showed me my +duty in a way I never have +forgot. I had grown restive +in my lot and chafed against +its narrow round of cell and +cloister. But in a word he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +made me see that if I stepped +aside from that appointed +path, merely for mine own +pleasure, 'twould mar the +order of God's universe as +surely as if a planet swerved +from its eternal course.</p> + +<p>"'No shining lot is thine,' +he said. 'Yet neither have +the stars themselves a light. +They but reflect the Central +Sun. And so mayst thou, +while swinging onward, faithful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +to thy orbit, reflect the +light of heaven upon thy +fellow men.'</p> + +<p>"Since then I've had no +need to go a-seeking happiness, +for bearing cheer to +others keeps my own heart +a-shine.</p> + +<p>"I pass the lesson on to +thee, good friend. Remember, +men need laughter +sometimes more than food, +and if thou hast no cheer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +thyself to spare, why, thou +mayst go a-gathering it from +door to door as I do crusts, +and carry it to those who +need."</p> + +<p>Long after the good friar +had supped and gone, Aldebaran +sat in silence. Then +crossing to the tiny casement +that gave upon the +street, he stood and gazed +up at the stars. Long, long +he mused, fitting the friar's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +lesson to his own soul's +need, and when he turned +away, the old astrologer's +prophecy had taken on new +meaning.</p> + +<p>"As Aldebaran the star +shines in the heavens" (<i>no +light within itself, but borrowing +from the Central +Sun</i>), "so Aldebaran the +man might shine among his +fellows." (<i>Beggared of joy +himself, yet flashing its reflection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +athwart the lives +of others.</i>)</p> + +<p>When next he went into +the town he no longer +shunned the sights that +formerly he'd passed with +face averted, for well he +knew that if he would shed +joy and hope on others he +must go to places where +they most abound. What +matter that the thought of +Vesta stabbed him nigh to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +madness when he looked on +hearth-fires that could never +blaze for him? With courage +almost more than human +he put that fond ambition +out of mind as if it were +another sword he'd learned +to sheathe. At first it would +not stay in hiding, but flew +the scabbard of his will to +thrust him sore as often as +he put it from him. But +after awhile he found a way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +to bind it fast, and when +he'd found that way it gave +him victory over all.</p> + +<p>A little child came crying +towards him in the marketplace, +its world a waste of +woe because the toy it cherished +had been broken in its +play. Aldebaran would have +turned aside on yesterday to +press the barbed thought +still deeper in his heart that +he had been denied the joy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +of fatherhood. But now he +stooped as gently as if he +were the child's own sire to +wipe its tears and soothe its +sobs. And when with skilful +fingers he restored the +toy, the child bestowed on +him a warm caress out of +its boundless store.</p> + +<p>He passed on with his +pulses strangely stirred. +'Twas but a crumb of love +the child had given, yet, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +Aldebaran held it in his +heart, behold a miracle! It +grew full-loaf, and he would +fain divide it with all hungering +souls! So when a +stone's throw farther on he +met a man well-nigh distraught +from many losses, +he did not say in bitterness +as once he would have done, +that 'twas the common lot +of mortals; to look on him +if one would know the worst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +that Fate can do. Nay, +rather did he speak so +bravely of what might still +be wrung from life though +one were maimed like he, +that hope sprang up within +his hearer and sent him on +his way with face a-shine.</p> + +<p>That grateful smile was +like a revelation to Aldebaran, +showing him he had +indeed the power belonging +to the stars. Beggared of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +joy, no light within himself, +yet from the Central Sun +could he reflect the hope and +cheer that made him as the +eye of Taurus 'mong his +fellows.</p> + +<p>The weeks slipped into +months, months into years. +The Jester went his way +unto his kindred and never +once was missed, because +Aldebaran more than filled +his place. In time the town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +forgot it ever had another +Jester, and in time Aldebaran +began to feel the gladness +that he only feigned +before.</p> + +<p><i>And then it came to pass, +whenever he went by, men +felt a strange, strength-giving +influence radiating from +his presence,—a sense of +hope. One could not say +exactly what it was, it was +so fleeting, so intangible, like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +warmth that circles from a +brazier, or perfume that is +wafted from an unseen rose.</i></p> + +<p>Thus he came down to +death at last, and there was +dole in all the Province, so +that pilgrims, journeying +through that way, asked +when they heard his passing-bell, +"What king is dead, +that all thus do him reverence?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis but our Jester," one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +replied. "A poor maimed +creature in his outward +seeming, and yet so blithely +did he bear his lot, it seemed +a kingly spirit dwelt among +us, and earth is poorer for +his going."</p> + +<p>All in his motley, since +he'd willed it so, they laid +him on his bier to bear him +back again unto his father's +house. And when they +found the Sword of Conquest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +hidden underneath his +mantle, they marvelled he +had carried such a treasure +with him through the years, +all unbeknown even to those +who walked the closest at +his side.</p> + +<p>When, after many days, +the funeral train drew +through the castle gate, the +king came down to meet it. +There was no need of blazoned +scroll to tell Aldebaran's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +story. All written +in his face it was, and on +his scarred and twisted +frame; and by the bloodstone +on his finger the old +king knew his son had failed +not in the keeping of his +oath. More regal than the +royal ermine seemed his +motley now. More eloquent +the sheathed sword that told +of years of inward struggle +than if it bore the blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +of dragons, for on his face +there shone the peace that +comes alone of mighty triumph.</p> + +<p>The king looked round +upon his nobles and his stalwart +sons, then back again +upon Aldebaran, lying in +silent majesty.</p> + +<p>"Bring royal purple for +the pall," he faltered, "and +leave the Sword of Conquest +with him! No other hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +will ever be found worthier +to claim it!"</p> + +<p>That night when tall white +candles burned about him +there stole a white-robed +figure to the flower-strewn +bier. 'Twas Vesta, decked +as for a bridal, her golden +tresses falling round her like +a veil. They found her +kneeling there beside him, +her face like his all filled +with starry light, and round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +them both was such a wondrous +shining, the watchers +drew aside in awe.</p> + +<p>"'Tis as the old astrologers +foretold," they whispered. +"Her soul hath +entered on its deathless +vigil. In truth he was the +bravest that this earth has +ever known."</p> + + +<div class='center'>THE END.</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='center'><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Jester's Sword, by Annie Fellows Johnston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER'S SWORD *** + +***** This file should be named 39385-h.htm or 39385-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/8/39385/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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