trouble real."
"Indeed?" said the King mockingly. "Wait till you have a few more years
over your head, boy, before you attempt to give counsel to one who is
used to judge mankind. Foolish boy! Can't you see that it is part of
her work to trap travellers into staying at her house? Why, I believe
if we rested here we should be plunged into a long deep sleep, and one
from which we should never wake. Now, Saint Simon, you ought to have
finished. I want to mount and go."
"The horses are ready, my lord," said the young man quickly.
"But you have not paid the woman."
"I offered her ample, sir, and she refused it."
"Bah! Leave that to me," said the King haughtily. "But what about you,
Denis, boy? Don't tell me that you are too bad to mount, and force me
to stay in this vile nest of thieves."
"No, sir. If Saint Simon will help me to mount, I'll manage to ride the
long night through; but I fear if there is need that I could not fight."
The King hesitated, and stood striking his two stout riding gloves
twisted together sharply in his left hand.
"Yes, you look hurt, boy. Perhaps it will be better that we should
stay. We could hold one room, unless they burnt us out, and take turn
and turn to watch."
"Oh no, sir; I am well enough to go," cried the lad. "Here, Saint
Simon, give me a leg up. I am better now, and shall feel easier still
when in the saddle."
"Keep back, Saint Simon!" said the King. "Let me be the judge of that.
Here, your foot, boy? Do you hear me, sir? Quick!"
The lad raised his foot as the King impatiently clasped his hands
stirrup fashion and raised the young horseman smartly, so that he flung
his right leg over and dropped lightly into the saddle.
"Well," continued the King, as he watched his young esquire keenly, "can
you sit there, or are you going to swoon?"
The boy smiled scornfully, and the King gave him an encouraging nod.
"You will do," he said, "and if you cannot use your arm you will be able
to ride between us if we are attacked and charge the scoundrels when we
make them run. Mount, Saint Simon. Have we left aught behind?"
"No, sir," replied the young man, and he hesitated a moment to let the
King be first in the saddle; but an angry gesture made him spring into
his seat, urge his charger forward, and hold the bridle till his master
was mounted, pressed his horse's sides, and then reined up shortly in
the great entry of the inn, level with the door at which the hostess was
standing, pale and troubled, and backed up by the servants of the place.
"Here, woman," cried the King, drawing his hand from his pouch; "hold
out your apron. Quick! Don't stand staring there."
The words were uttered in so imperious a tone that the woman
involuntarily obeyed, and half-a-dozen gold pieces fell into her stiff
white garment with a pleasant chink.
The next minute, in answer to a touch of the spur, the horses went
clattering through the entry out into the main street, the noise they
made arousing the two hostlers from their sleep to come yawning and
staring to the open stable-door, while the hostess stepped out into the
entry and hurried to the front with hand clasped in hand.
"Oh, that gallant boy," she muttered, with her face all drawn. "If I
had only dared to tell them more plainly! But they would have marked me
if I had, and it is as much as my life is worth to speak. Why does not
our King put an end to these roving bands who keep us all in a state of
terror and make us slaves?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
AN UNKNOWN LAND.
The ride out from the town was uneventful, save that the people hurried
to their windows and doors to see them pass, and admire the beauty of
their steeds. Then as the city gate was passed and they rode out into
the open country, with the way before them seeming perfectly clear, the
King cried cheerily:
"Hah! I can breathe freely now. I must tell my brother Henry that the
road to his Court is a disgrace, and travellers' lives not safe. Now,
in my kingdom of beautiful France every road to the capital from the
seaports is--Why are you looking at me like that, Saint Simon?"
"Well, sir," said the young man bluntly, "I was thinking about two or
three cases where people have been waylaid and plundered and--"
"Yes, yes, yes," said the King impatiently; "I think that there was a
case or two, but surely we are better than this. Well, Denis, boy;
how's the bad arm?"
"Very stiff, sir, and aches; but I don't mind now."
"Not you, boy! Too brave a soldier! Ha, ha, ha! I almost think that I
can see it all. My faith! I would I had been there to have seen you,
you stripling, standing sword in hand in that lane to meet that
ruffian's charge with three horses abreast. And you wounded him too,
and saved the beasts. I should like to see the young Englishman who
would do a deed like that! Why, Saint Simon, you and I must look after
our laurels. We ought to be proud of our companion, eh?"
"Oh, sir," shouted Denis, giving a cry of pain, for as he spoke the King
had clapped him heartily upon the shoulder that was nearest to him--
unfortunately the right.
"Tut, tut, tut!" cried the King, leaning towards him, for the lad turned
ghastly white. "There, hold up, boy. I wanted to show you how pleased
I was with the bravery of your deed, and I have only given pain."
"Not only, sir," said the lad quickly. "Your hand hurt me for the
moment, but my K--lord's words of praise are thrilling still."
"Just saved yourself, boy," cried Francis; "for if you dare to say you
know what till we are back again in my own fair France your punishment
will be short and sharp." He gave Saint Simon a merry look as he spoke,
and then rode gently on, sweeping the landscape with his eye and making
comments from time to time. "Better and better," he said pleasantly.
"My brother Henry has a goodly land. All this woodland landscape forms
a pleasant place. Hah! but he should see my hills and forests about
Rouen, with the silver river winding through the vale. But that is far
away, and this is near, and it will pass if we do not meet the dangers
that woman prophesied upon our road."
They rode on in silence for a time, just at a gentle amble, the King
giving a shrewd look now and again at his young companion to see how he
bore the motion of the horse.
It was a glorious evening, and they saw the sun sink like a huge orange
globe; the soft, warm, summer evening glow seeming to rise and spread
around them from the west.
There was a sweet delicious fragrance in the air, and the soft English
landscape began gradually to darken from green to purple, and then to
deeper shades, while as the glow in the west disappeared the eastern sky
grew more pearly; but the indications of the rising moon were not as
yet.
"Hah!" cried the King at last, speaking as if to two companions of his
own rank enjoying with him a summer evening ride. "Here have I been so
taken up with our late adventures that I have had no thought of what is
to come. Our saddles are comfortable, and after that pleasant dinner
and my nap I feel ready for anything. But there will come a time when
we shall want to think of supper and of bed, for we can't go on riding
all night even if we are undisturbed. Now then, Saint Simon, what have
you to say?"
The young man slowly shook his head.
"Bah!" cried the King. "What a dumb dog you are! And I know nothing of
the way. I begin to feel that we ought to have had old Leoni with us,
after all. He has maps, and knowledge always ready in his brain; and he
speaks these islanders' language better than they can themselves. But
he would only have been in the way, and I wanted freedom. Here, Denis,
boy, what have you to say? Where shall we sleep to-night?"
"I had scarcely time, sir, to mark down our course, and the only place I
can recall is one called Hurstham."
"Ah!" cried the King. "What of that?"
"I know nothing, sir, except that there is a good road over hills and
through forests, and that there is a castle there."
"Then that will do," cried the King. "Once within its walls we can
laugh at thieves and murderers. There, boy, you have your task before
you: lead us there."
"But I do not know the way, sir. Would it not be best to get a guide
from the first village we ride through?"
"Excellent!" cried the King--"for him to lead us straight into the den
of the forest outlaws."
"It would be his last journey, sir," said Saint Simon grimly, as he
significantly touched the hilt of his sword.
"And what good would that do us," said the King, "if we never saw
to-morrow's sun? Here, I must lead. Look out sharp, both of you, for
the next guide-post or stone. I will warrant that those old Romans
planted some of them beside the road, telling the way to London."
"Yes, sir," said Denis drily, "but it will soon be dark."
"Ah, well, we must chance everything. I don't believe that we shall
find the road unsafe; but even if it is we must keep to it all the same.
It will lead us somewhere, and--hah! here comes the moon!"
It was a welcome light for the travellers, who rode slowly on to ease
their steeds, for as the King said, they had all the night before them,
and sooner or later, even if they did not reach the castle, they were
sure to pass upon this direct road to London some good town where they
might venture to stay. But the miles seemed to grow longer, the country
more hilly, wild and strange, and, in spite of all endeavours to keep
bravely to their task, the two young men had the weight of the past
night's watch upon their brains. The consequence was that just after
crossing what seemed to be an open furzy down, and when the road,
looking white in the moonlight, had turned gloomy and black, save where
it was splashed by the silvery light on the trees of the forest patch
into which they had passed, they began to nod upon their horses, and the
King's voice grew as he talked into an incoherent drone.
Then they were wide awake again, for just in the darkest part, where the
trees met together across the road, a shrill clear whistle rang out,
which made all draw rein and listen to the sound of horses' hoofs
clattering upon the hard road they had just traversed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE WAR-CRY.
The whistle in front and the sound of following horsemen had but one
meaning for Denis, and that was danger; and there was a movement common
to nearly everyone in bygone days when danger was afoot, and that was to
throw the right hand across the body in search of the hilt of the sword
with which every traveller was armed.
It was involuntary then that, upon hearing the whistle and the trampling
hoofs, Denis tried to draw his sword, but only uttered a faint cry of
pain, for nerve and muscle had during the past few hours stiffened and
made him more helpless than before, so that his arm sank back into its
sling, but with the hand sufficiently free to receive the reins, which
he passed across, thus leaving his left hand at liberty for his dagger.
"Hah!" said the King. "They are not fools. They have chosen a likely
place for their trap, and we have walked right in. Well, gentlemen, we
don't surrender. Which is it to be--retreat or advance?"
"Advance!" cried the young men, in one breath, excitedly, and it sounded
like one voice.
"Draw, then, and forward," cried the King. "You, Saint Simon, guard
Denis on the left; I shall have the honour of forming his right flank.
But no desultory fighting. We advance and keep together as one man with
one aim--to pass through the enemy, however many they may be. Forward!"
Denis writhed at his helplessness, as in obedience to a touch of the
spur the three horses sprang forward, kept in the centre of the dark
road, and broke at once into a hand gallop; and for some fifty yards the
way seemed perfectly clear.
Then all at once the route was barred by a number of men who sprang from
each side, yelling and shouting, while from behind the trampling of
horses came nearer, and the advance was checked; for apparently with
reckless bravery men rushed out of the darkness to seize the horsemen's
reins, with the result that the King struck at the nearest a downward
blow with the hilt of his sword, which took effect full in the man's
face, so that he sank with a groan, while, drawing back his arm, the
King's second movement was to give point, running the next man through
the shoulder, and he fell back.
Saint Simon's actions were much the same, but in reverse, for he thrust
first, and equally successfully; while Denis sat supine, the feeling
upon him strong that he was a helpless heavy log to his companions, and
in their way.
So successful was the resistance to the attack that for the moment the
way seemed open, and the boy's breast began to throb with excitement as
he felt that they had won. But they had only dealt with four, and as
they were urging on their horses once again at least a dozen were ready
to stay their progress, while with a loud shout of triumph four mounted
men came up in their rear to hem the trio in.
"Give point! Give point!" roared the King, setting the example, and
every thrust seemed to tell; but where one enemy went down there seemed
to be three or four more to take his place, and in the darkness there
was a _melee_ of writhing, struggling men hanging on to the panting,
snorting horses and regardless of the keen steel, striving to drag the
wielders down.
"It's all over with us," thought Denis, and a chill of despair seemed to
clutch his heart, as he rose in his stirrups and, dagger in hand,
strove, but in vain, to give some aid to his two defenders, who were
growing breathless with their exertions and hampered and overpowered by
their foes.
The horses, too, were becoming frantic, and reared and plunged, greatly
to the riders' disadvantage, but advantage too, for more than one of the
assailants fell back from the blows struck by their hoofs, to be
trampled the next moment under foot; and then amidst yells, threats, and
savage cries, there was a fresh shout of triumph, for on either side the
defenders' arms were held, and but for the way in which the well-trained
horses pressed together, both the King and Saint Simon would have been
pulled from their saddles.
Just at this crucial moment, in the midst of the lull which followed the
triumphal yell, there was the loud trampling of hoofs upon the hard road
in front, the shouting of a war-cry--"France! France!"--seemed to cut
through the darkness, and with a rush a single horseman looking like a
dark shadow dashed down upon the group, scattering, so to speak, with
wondrous rapidity a perfect shower of thrusts, making those who pinioned
King and courtier fall back, some in surprise and dread, others in agony
or in death, leaving their prisoners at liberty to assume the offensive
once again and aid their new supporter in his gallant efforts upon their
behalf.
"Right!" he shouted, in a strange shrill voice. "About at once! Now,
all together, charge!" And, taking advantage of the temporary
astonishment of the enemy, the new-comer ranged himself by the King's
side, and all setting spurs to their horses, the brave beasts shook
themselves free from those who grasped their reins, and together broke
into a gallop, trampling down and driving to the right and left those
who, half-hearted now, held fast and strove to stop their way.
The attempt was vain, and away the little party went along the dim,
shadowy road for about a hundred yards, when the stranger's voice rose
above the trampling hoofs in the order to halt and turn, followed by a
louder command to charge back once more.
They needed no urging on the part of the riders, for the horses, excited
now to the fullest extent, recognised the orders, and broke into a
gallop once again, dashing back over the ground they had just traversed
towards where men were gathering together in obedience to excited voices
and preparing to once more stop their way. For the danger was not yet
over; the first charge had driven the horsemen, who had so far not been
seen but heard, into a headlong flight; but at the halt they had rallied
again, and as the gallant little band of four had turned for their
second charge were coming on in full pursuit.
"Gallop!" yelled their new ally, and even in the wild excitement of
those few moments, while he seemed borne here and there like the
prisoner of his friends, the only help given being by the weight of his
horse, Denis fell to wondering who the gallant Englishman could be that
had come so opportunely to their aid; for there was a something not
familiar in the tones which, trumpet-like, gave forth their orders, but
somehow strange in the way in which they seemed to raise echoes in his
brain.
"Gallop!" he yelled again. "France! France!" And like a flash the
question darted through the boy's brain, why should he use the
battle-cry of France?
Momentary all this as, before reaching the little, dimly seen crowd that
once more barred the way, the chargers attained their fullest speed; and
then there were a few slight shocks as man after man went down in their
half-hearted resistance, and the rest were scattered, the little line of
horsemen passing through them, driving them here and there, and charging
on in their headlong gallop forward beneath the overhanging trees which
suddenly ceased to darken their way, for the gallant band had passed out
into the full bright moonlight once again, and the sound of pursuit by
the enemy's mounted men had died away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
THE FRIEND IN NEED.
They must have gone a mile at full gallop before the King cried "Halt!"
As the beat of their horses' hoofs ceased he sat with raised hand as if
commanding silence, listening; but the heavy breathing of the four
steeds was the only sound that broke the silence of the glorious night.
"Forward slowly now," said the King quietly. "The danger is past for
the moment, and we shall have good warning if they come on again, for it
is not likely that they have thrown out a second detachment to take us
if we escaped the first. Now, just one word--who is hurt? Denis, my
brave lad, how is it with you?"
"You took too much care of me, my lord. I am only hot."
"Well done!" cried the King. "And you, Saint Simon?"
"A bit battered with blows, sir," replied the young man; "and I expect
when the day dawns I can show some rags."
"No wounds?" cried the King.
"Not a scratch, sir."
"But what of you, sir?" cried Denis eagerly, "I am afraid you must have
suffered badly."
"I have," said the King shortly. "I feel as if my beauty is spoiled by
a blow one ruffian struck at my face. But he was the one who suffered,"
he added, with a low hiss suggestive of satisfaction. "But no more
selfishness. Though I have left him to the last, it is not that I do
not want to thank our gallant English preserver, who has given us the
best of proofs that he is ready to welcome strangers to his shores. I
don't know by what means you knew, sir, of our peril, or why you should
think it worth your while to play the brave knight, and fight against
such odds to rescue us from the spoilers, and perhaps from death. Pray
give me your name, sir, that we three strangers may bury it deeply in
our hearts as one of the most gallant islanders we shall ever meet."
"My name, your Majesty?" said the stranger quietly.
"What!" cried the King. "You know who I am?"
"As well as your Majesty knows his faithful servant," came now in
familiar tones.
"Master Leoni!" cried all three, in a breath, the King's voice sounding
loudest of all.
"Yes, Sire," said the owner of the name quietly, as if there were no
such thing as excitement left in his composition, and instead of being a
fighting man he was the most peaceable of souls. "Your Majesty, in the
fullness of your confidence, thought you would not need your follower's
services, but I feared that you would, and hence I came. You see, you
did."
"But how--and mounted! How came you here? You bade us farewell at
Fontainebleau a week ago."
"Yes, Sire; a week gave me plenty of time, as you travelled slowly, to
get to the port two days earlier than you. I have been well before you
all the time."
"Then that paper!" cried Denis excitedly. "It was you who placed that
beneath the King's trencher at the inn?"
"I did, Master Denis," said Leoni quietly, "and I think the warning was
needed. It would have been safer if his Majesty had taken it to heart,
though I feared in his reckless bravery he would laugh at my warning,
and so I kept watch and came on in advance."
"Then you knew that the road was haunted by folk like these?" said the
King.
"Yes, Sire; I found that in a forest not far from here they have a
gathering place, and are always on the look-out for rich travellers on
the way to London. They have spies at the port and at the principal
towns to give them warning, and I wonder that you escaped so far without
the loss of your horses."
"Humph!" ejaculated the King sourly. "We should have lost them but for
the brave action of young Denis here; but look you, Master Leoni," he
continued sternly, "I gave you my commands to keep watch and ward over
my goods and chattels at my palace of Fontainebleau until my return."
"Your Majesty did," said Leoni humbly.
"And disobedience to my commands is treason, sir, and the punishment of
that is death."
"Yes, Sire; but your royal life is the greatest of your possessions, and
I felt that might be in danger. You gave me a free hand to do what was
best in your service, and even if I have offended I deemed it my duty to
save my sovereign's life even at the cost of my own. Your Majesty, I
have no further defence to make."
"Hah!" said the King. "He has disarmed me, boys, and I as his master
almost feel that I cannot order him to execution for such a crime as
this. What say you, Denis, lad?"
"I say, sir," said the boy, laughing softly, "that this is England, sir,
and that you are not King, but my Lord the Comte de la Seine, who has no
power to inflict such a punishment as this."
"Hah!" said the King, chuckling. "And you, silent Wisehead Saint Simon,
what is your judgement?"
"Oh, sir, I think Denis is quite right; but I should like to add one
thing."
"Hah!" cried the King. "This fight has made you find your tongue, my
lad. Now then, let's have what you think about Master Leoni's offence."
"I think, sir, that we had better get on a little faster, for I don't
want another fight to-night."
"Neither do I," said the King, laughing softly, "for I am sore all over,
and I should be miserable if it were not for the thought that this
ruffian gang must have suffered far more than we. Why, Master Leoni,
the point of your sword I could well believe must have been everywhere
at once."
"A trick of fence, sir, merely a trick of fence," said Leoni quietly.
"Your lordship knows how for years I have studied every Italian trick,
and it comes easy and useful at a time like this."
"My faith, yes!" said the King, drawing a deep breath. "There, Master
Leoni, I must forgive you this time; but don't offend again. Now then,
before we drop into a canter, I believe you know the English roads by
heart: can you act as our guide to-night?"
"I have studied them a little, sir, and been along here three times
before."
"Then you can take us to a place of safety?"
"Yes, sir, I can; and you will pardon me when I tell you that four days
ago I sent forward a trusty messenger to an old town some ten miles from
here where there is a fine old manor-house, the home of a studious
English nobleman of whom I asked for hospitality for the noble Comte de
la Seine should he by any possibility on his journey to the English
Court appeal to him on his way. I and Sir John Carrbroke have often
corresponded upon matters of scientific lore, and you will be made
welcome as my patron, you may be sure."
"Hah!" cried the King. "There seems to be no end to you, Leoni. You
know everything, and are always ready at a pinch. Well, I must let you
serve me this time, but to-morrow morning, mind, I shall be sore and
stiff, and savage as a Compiegne wild boar, so you had better keep
beyond the reach of my tusks when I order you back to France."
"I take your warning, sir," said Master Leoni, rising in his stirrups
and placing his hand to his ear.
"Hah!" cried the King. "Are they coming on again?"
"No, sir; all is quiet, but we have many good English miles to ride, and
it would be wise to keep our horses at a steady pace to get well beyond
the outlaws' grasp, for you do not want to reach my old friend's manor
and rouse his people up with a following of outlaws at our heels."