“Idleness!  There shall be idleness no longer.  The man speaks the truth; we will consider further of this, we will move on Adelinton,” turning to his barons.

“If it please your majesty,” said Baron Ingulph, “this man invented a new trigger for our carriage crossbows, but he was lost in the crowd, and we have sought for him in vain; my serjeant here has this moment recognised him.”

“Why did you not come to us before, fellow?” said the king.  “Let him be released; let him be entertained at our expense; give him clothes and a sword.  We will see you further.”

Overjoyed at this sudden turn of fortune, Felix forgot to let well alone.  He had his audience with him for a moment; he could not resist as it were following up his victory.  He thanked the king, and added that he could make a machine which would knock the walls yonder to pieces without it being necessary to approach nearer than half a bow-shot.

“What is this?” said the king.  “Ingulph, have you ever heard of such a machine?”

“There is no such thing,” said the Baron, beginning to feel that his professional reputation as the master of the artillery was assailed.  “There is nothing of the kind known.”

“It will shoot stones as big, as heavy as a man can lift,” said Felix eagerly, “and easily knock towers to fragments.”

The king looked from one to another; he was incredulous.  The Baron smiled scornfully.  “Ask him, your majesty, how these stones are to be thrown; no bow could do it.”

“How are the stones to be thrown?” said the king sharply.  “Beware how you play with us.”

“By the force of twisted ropes, your majesty.”

They all laughed.  The Baron said:  “You see, your majesty, there is nothing of the kind.  This is some jester.”

“The twisted rope should be a halter,” said another courtier, one of those who hoped for the rich man’s downfall.

“It can be done, your majesty,” cried Felix, alarmed.  “I assure you, a stone of two hundredweight might be thrown a quarter of a mile.”

The assembly did not repress its contempt.

“The man is a fool,” said the king, who now thought that Felix was a jester who had put a trick upon him.  “But your joke is out of joint; I will teach such fellows to try tricks on us!  Beat him out of camp.”

The provost’s men seized him, and in a moment he was dragged off his feet, and bodily carried outside the entrenchment.  Thence they pushed him along, beating him with the butts of their spears to make him run the faster; the groups they passed laughed and jeered; the dogs barked and snapped at his ankles.  They hurried him outside the camp, and thrusting him savagely with their spear butts sent him headlong.  There they left him, with the caution which he did not hear, being insensible, that if he ventured inside the lines he would be at once hanged.  Like a dead dog they left him on the ground.