"Thou hadst better get thee home, then," retorted the executioner gruffly.
"Not badly thrust," said the jester, laughing; "but have patience with me, comrade. I am no fool to-day. For once in a way I mean to act the wiseacre. You see"—here he became confidential—"what the household of the palace may expect from our new master."
"I see nothing," replied the man testily, "except that whatever master rules there is always plenty of work for me and my chum here to do; and let me tell you, Master Baba, that I am no revolutionist—I mind my own business."
"Yery good, comrade," returned Baba lightly; "thou wilt play the fool to-day and change places with me. But bear in remembrance that a chaouse may have to be beaten as well as a jester, and that it would not be difficult to find others to take thy place. I might even be tempted to do so myself in case of necessity. It would be a rare jest to have a chaouse beaten by a jester, would it not?"
"If it ever comes to that, I hope you will prove grateful and lay on lightly," returned the man, with a grim smile.
"That will depend on thy behaviour. If thou art resolved to play the fool now, I must of necessity be in earnest then."
"What mean you?"
