and yet, sir, I am anxious about the Majesty of France. I am common
clay, sir. I am nothing; I can die; whereas you--"
"No, no, Leoni; not here, not here. We have left that in France. Do
you not understand? Just at present we are travelling companions, and I
look to you and to your great learning for assistance, just as I
received it in the forest that night; and then it was timely indeed."
"You are too indulgent, my lord, to any poor attainments that your
servant may possess. Such as they are, they will always be at my lord's
service," replied Leoni, and he slowly resumed his seat in the
high-backed chair, in obedience to a commanding gesture from the King.
Francis laughed lightly.
"The best swordsman," he said, "in all my fair kingdom of France--cut,
parry, and point; the greatest savant; and, by my sword, the best of
patrists.--No, no, Leoni, old friend, I am not too indulgent," and he
gave his follower a keen glance. "But as to the route; is it good to
start to-morrow?"
Leoni bowed.
"Yes, sir, it is good," he said, and he blew some few grains of sand off
the paper at which he had been engaged.
"Ah!" said the King. "'Tis well."
"And then, sir--"
"Then--I do not understand."
Leoni leaned forward, and with his elbows on the table joined the tips
of his fingers, and then clasped his hands and, with the weird strange
look in his eyes, said:
"What does my lord propose to do?"
"To do? Why, to go to the Court of our quick-tempered brother Henry at
this palace of his at Windsor."
"Ah!" said Leoni.
"You are doubtful?"
"I think, sir, that there may be difficulties in the way." And the
speaker glanced at the document before him.
"Difficulties for me! You are mad."
"No, sir, only cautious. When you are in France, at Fontainebleau, at
Compiegne, in Paris, no matter where, does his Majesty the King receive
any errant English nobleman who may be abroad to study the world? I
think not. Your minister would inquire into the traveller's papers, and
ask whence he came, and why."
The King turned thoughtful in a moment, and the haughty look died away
on his lips.
"By Saint Louis, I never thought of that! Leoni, you are wiser than I."
Leoni gazed intently at the King, who winced; and Francis ended by
putting his hand before his own eyes, as if the peculiar fixed stare
annoyed him.
"I was arguing by analogy, sir. Is it likely that this English monarch
will act differently from the first King in Christendom? I think not.
Henry apes your Majesty. It is you, Sire, who lead, and whom other
kings follow. Go in your proper person, and there is not a door in all
this land, or in any other, which can be thrown open wide enough to
admit you; but--"
"Leoni," interrupted the King, "what are you writing?"
"A suggestion, sir, to offer you."
The King crossed the chamber, and, leaning over Leoni's shoulder, read
out the words:
"To our well-beloved Cousin, Henry, King of England.
"Dear Cousin and King,--
"The bearer of this our letter, the noble Comte Reginald Herault de la
Seine of Angomar and Villay, is our good friend. We ask you to receive
him as such, and to permit him to see your Court, of which all the world
speaks, and your kingdom of England, whose power is so beneficent and so
mighty an agent of Heaven's will on this earth."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Will it serve, sir?" asked Leoni.
"Of course!" cried the King; and snatching the pen from the doctor's
hand, he took the letter to the other side of the table and clumsily
scribbled down a signature. "There," he cried, tossing the letter back;
"will that do?"
Leoni fixed him with his eyes and shrugged his shoulders slightly, and
his peculiar cynical smile played about his lips.
"I wish, Leoni, you wouldn't stare at me like that," cried the King
petulantly. "Yes. I know; it is bad--not like your regular writing. I
don't pass my time handling a pen."
"I was not thinking of the writing, sir, but of the signature."
"Oh, I see," cried the King; "I am not used to it. I shall write it
better by-and-by. Well, won't that one do?"
"Your lordship had not thought before you put pen to paper."
"Yes, I did; I thought that the sooner I got it over the better. Well,
what do you want now?"
"I was wondering," said Leoni, with a mocking smile, "what King Henry
would think of a Comte de la Seine who writes a letter in the King's
name to introduce himself."
"Bah!" cried the King angrily. "What an idiot! No; it was my honest
nature rebelling against deceit. Here, Leoni, what's to be done?"
"I'll write the letter over again, sir, and you will sign it this time
as the King."
"Good!" murmured Francis.
The letter was rewritten, and the King signed.
"With this passport, sir, King Henry's Court at Windsor will be free to
you and to yours."
"Excellent," said the King, and he glanced at the document endorsed with
the royal signature--"Francois, R."--at which he smiled with
self-satisfaction. "Now nothing more remains to be done."
The King looked fixedly at his servant, and then laid his hand on the
latter's arm.
"It is good," he said. "What you have done is well done. Leoni, with
mind and sword you have served me well, and that France which we both
love with loyalty and faith. And now--now that we are nearing our
journey's end, you hold it still to be the truth that Henry guards
jealously in his possession this jewel, which in his hands is an agent
for the downfall of France?"
"I hold it to be true, sir," said Leoni solemnly, and he laid his hand
on a little golden crucifix which lay on the table before him. "I hold
it to be true, and that the old ambition which brought the English
hordes to our country is kept alive by the influence of that jewel. He
will serve France well who reclaims it and restores it to its rightful
place--your crown, Sire." And the speaker dropped on one knee, but the
King motioned him to rise.
"Not now," he said; "not now." And then, as his royal master appeared
to be lost in thought, Leoni went on; "Never, sir, would I have brought
this matter to your notice, deeply though it concerns the welfare of
France, had I not been convinced."
"And why so?"
"Because, sir, I knew your nature--reckless, valiant, ready to risk all,
ay, even your life, when the interests of your country are involved."
"And rightly so. It is as a Valois should act, as a Valois will act to
the end."
"Yes, sir; and yet I dreaded at first to speak, for I foresaw something
of what would happen, since to those who study deeply a vision of the
future is vouchsafed at times, and I realised even then what might be
your resolve--namely, to undertake the perilous quest yourself."
"It was for France."
"Yes, sir--"
And then the King, in a softened voice, said slowly:
"You blame me, Leoni?"
"It is not for such as I to blame. All that you have done, sir, is
good; but there is the future. Of that we will take thought. You are
in a strange land, sir, amidst people who to-morrow may be foes. You
are far from the army which would follow you to death, and to meet the
dangers which may come into your path there are but three swords, three
loyal hearts."
"And they will be enough," said the King. "Leoni, old friend, you must
have no fear."
"I have none, sir."
"Well," said the King, "between ourselves, Leoni, I have. This thing
begins to look more awkward now we are getting so near. King Henry is
always very civil to me in his letters, and no doubt he will give the
Comte de la Loire--"
"Seine, sir--Seine."
"Bah! Yes, of course. I knew it was some river. I say: I mustn't make
such a mistake as that again, or he will find me out. Here, hadn't we
better change the name to something else? Seine--Seine--it's rather a
stupid name."
"Too late, sir," said Leoni earnestly. "You must hold to it now. But
you were about to say something, my lord."
"Yes, of course," cried the King hastily. "Suppose Henry does find me
out, and has got me there. Why, by my sword, Leoni, he'll hold me to
ransom, and instead of my getting back that one jewel he'll make me give
up my whole crown."
"No, sir; no, sir," cried Leoni earnestly. "Have more faith in
yourself, and go forward. You cannot turn back now. You will soon get
used to the part you assume, and it will be easy."
"I don't know so much about that," said the King. "I am a bad actor.
Why, you can't keep it up yourself. If I hadn't stopped you just now
you'd have been down upon your knees to kiss my hand."
"That was only my reverence and duty to my King."
"Yes, I know," said Francis angrily; "but just recollect that you have
no king now, and let's have no reverence, for if you get me regularly
into trouble over this, good a servant as you have been to me, your
friends will have to prepare your tomb, a short one too, for you will
lose your head."
"In the service of my country and my lord, sir," said Leoni calmly. "I
shall have done my duty. But we shall not fail."
CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE KING'S BULLIES.
It was towards evening that the little cavalcade came within sight of
the town where was situated the famous castle which was so much to the
liking of Henry; and at this point there was a separation, for young
Carrbroke took leave.
"We shall soon meet again," he said to Denis, as the two lads bade each
other farewell. "When does your master go to the Court?"
Denis shook his head.
"I do not know. Ask him."
"I dare not."
"It will be soon," exclaimed Denis, "for I believe that my lord will not
remain in England long."
The King took dinner that night at the hostelry by the side of the ferry
and ford they had crossed that day, having previously despatched Denis
with the letter which was to bring him face to face with the King of
England, the lad shortly returning, having intrusted the missive to a
captain of the Royal Guards, by whom it was to be handed to the
chamberlain on duty.
But the meal was not concluded when Francis was asked to receive a
messenger from the castle.
"Bid him enter," said the King, and he rose and stood by the wide
hearth, as the emissary of the English King entered and bowed low.
"His Majesty," he said, "wishes to welcome the noble Count de la Seine,
and tells me to assure you, sir, that had he known of your coming he
would gladly have provided an escort from the coast. He begs that you
will honour him this evening with your presence at his Court."
"Tell his Majesty," said Francis gravely, "that I am very sensible of
his kindness, and that it is my most urgent wish to wait upon him."
The royal messenger was bowed out, and Francis turned sharply to Leoni.
"Well, Leoni, we are outside the lion's den at present. Are we to go
in?--Don't!" cried the King angrily.
"My lord!"
"Don't stare at me like that. I know what you are thinking--that I am
afraid."
"Heaven forbid that I should think such a thing of--"
The King made a gesture, and in a hoarse whisper:
"You were going to say `King.' One might think from your visage that in
walking into his palace I was stepping into a lion's den.--What now,
boy? What were you thinking?" he cried, turning sharply to Denis, who
had been listening impatiently to his companion's words.
"Only, sir, that if it be a lion's den the Comte de la Seine has his
sword."
"To be sure," said the King.
"And three followers who carry theirs, and--"
The boy stopped short, for as he uttered his boastful words he was
interrupted by a hoarse, mocking laugh which came through the partly
open door, rousing the boy's ire so that he clapped his hand to his
weapon, the others turning also in the direction from which the sound
had come.
"What!" came in a loud, bullying tone. "The room engaged? Nonsense!
Who are they! What are they doing here?"
"French gentlemen, Sir Robert."
"French dancing masters, I suppose, come to teach the Court lads
minuets; and are they to keep English gentlemen waiting outside because,
forsooth, they have engaged the public room? Come in, boys. Here,
landlord; a stoup of wine. I'm thirsty. Frenchmen! Why, we can make
them dance!"
There was a thump struck upon the panel of the door, which flew open,
and a big, soldierly-looking man in horseman's boots covered with dust
swaggered in, followed by a couple more, who looked, like their leader,
hot and dusty, and, judging by their accoutrements, appeared to have
just dismounted.
Francis started and frowned as he met the English officer's insulting
gaze--insulting, for the stranger gave a contemptuous look around at the
assembled party, swaggered forward, unbuckling his belt and throwing it
and his sword upon the table with a bang, before dragging forward a
chair over the polished floor, raising it a little, and then bringing it
heavily down, to throw himself into its seat and then cry:
"Come, boys; the chairs are not all occupied. How long is that fellow
going to be with the wine?"
Francis turned pale; Leoni bit his lip, drew closer to him, and
whispered softly:
"Pay no heed, M. le Comte;" while Denis and Saint Simon, after gazing
fiercely at the new-comers, turned to look at the King as if to signify
their readiness, and mutely ask his consent to drive these intruders
from the room.
The result of this was that the painful silence was broken by the
officer addressed as Sir Robert bursting into another loud insulting
laugh. He looked at first one and then at the other of his companions,
before doubling his great gloved fist and beginning to make his sword
dance upon the table by thumping hard and shouting loudly:
"Now, landlord! Wine--wine--wine!"
"Pay no heed, sir," said Leoni softly. "They are trying to provoke a
quarrel, and you cannot stoop."
"What's that, Frenchman? Can't you speak English? None of your
miserable monsieuring here! Do you know where you are? In the shadow
of the Court of the great King Hal. Here, youngster, what are you doing
with that hilt? It isn't a fiddlestick. I didn't know dancing masters
carried swords.--Ah, here's the wine. Pour out landlord; and here," he
continued, as the host nervously filled the cups he had brought. "Bah!
Fool! Into the cups, not all over the table. Your wine is always bad,
but sack is too good to polish English oak. Now, boys, here's to--Stop!
Let's make this French springald drink King Harry's health. There,
boy. Take up that cup."
Leoni stretched out his hand to catch Denis by the arm, but he was too
late, for, with his eyes flashing, the boy stepped quickly forward to
the table, caught up the cup, and raised it towards his lips.
"Montjoie Saint Denis! God save the King of France!" he cried, and was
about to drain the cup, while Leoni uttered an impatient hiss, when the
vessel was brutally struck from his hand by the English officer, the
wine being scattered about the room, and bringing the King to his feet.
"Insolent!" cried Sir Robert, with his face now crimson, as he too
sprang to his feet, and catching up another of the filled cups. "But he
shall drink it, boys, or I'll slit his miserable ears. Do you
understand plain English, you minuet-dancing puppy?"
"Yes," panted Denis, between his teeth, and never taking his eyes from
the Englishman; "every word."
"Ah! That's good. Then take this cup, and down upon your knees and
drink King Harry's health, or 'fore Heaven you shall go back to your
miserable country marked by an English blade."
There was a momentary pause in the room, every eye being centred upon
the boy, fascinated as all were and self-forgetful, as they watched for
the outcome of the incident.
They were not kept waiting long, for the fierce look upon the boy's
countenance gave place to a pleasant smile which the Englishman did not
read as meant mockingly. He stretched out and took the cup, and the
bully returned the smile as he gave his companions a quick nod of the
head.
"You see, boys," he cried, in his loud bullying voice, "this is the way
to teach French monkeys! Now, my mincing young skipjack, God save King
Harry!--Malediction!" he roared, as he snatched up his sword, for with a
quick motion the boy had emptied the wine-cup full in his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
TRAPPED.
At the English captain's action his two companions sprang from their
chairs and drew their weapons, for Denis had stepped back with his own
blade leaping from its scabbard--a movement followed at once by his
three companions, who stood on their defence.
"Now, boys," raged out Sir Robert. "Hah! The window is open. Ready?"
"Yes," came fiercely.
"No deep wounds; but prick and make them dance till they reach the
window and leap out. I'll tackle this boy."
The next moment there was the harsh, grating, rasping, hissing sound of
steel edge against steel.
"Back, boy!" raged out Francis. "Let me punish this English
_canaille_."
"No, sir," whispered Leoni sharply. "They are three. Let your servants
finish this."
"Here's for you!" shouted one of Sir Robert's companions, and they made
for the King and his two followers; but they were hindered from crossing
swords by Sir Robert, who, stepping back to avoid a sharp thrust
delivered by Denis, felt his foot slip upon the wine-moistened polished
oaken boards, and in saving himself he came in contact with the table,
driving it heavily in his comrades' way, so that the two parties were
separated, the centre of the room being taken up by Denis and his
adversary.
"The unlucky boy!" muttered the King angrily. "Leoni, he is no match
for that English bull."
"No, sir," said the doctor coolly, as he stood watchful with his blade
advanced; "but he can fence a little. Give me place, and I'll see that
he does not come to harm."
Seeing that their adversaries were disposed to hold their hands until
the couple engaged had finished their encounter, Sir Robert's two
companions stood waiting for their turn till the unequal match was
finished; for unequal it was, Denis being pressed hard in the fierce
onslaught made by the strong-armed bully, who kept on thrusting and
driving the boy sideways as, lithe and agile, he avoided or parried
every thrust. At last his fate seemed sealed, for his arm was growing
weak and his defence being beaten down, when with a quick movement and
just in the nick of time Leoni made a sudden dart forward and turned
aside a very awkward thrust.
"Ah! Coward!" roared the English officer. "Two to one! Here, boys,
come on!"
The command was unnecessary, for Leoni's action was imitated at once by
Sir Robert's followers, who sprang forward, to have their blades engaged
at once by Saint Simon and the King.
Then in a general _melee_ the swords gritted and twined and seemed like
flashing serpents in deadly fray, while those who grasped them came in
contact with and were hindered by the furniture of the by no means
extensive room.
The floor was made slippery by the wine which bedewed the boards, but
before the encounter had lasted a minute there were other drops which
added to the peril; for Denis's thin blade had passed along the
fleshiest part of the English captain's ribs, and raging now with
passion and pain as he felt the sting, he fought furiously, forcing
Leoni to do more than guard the boy, whose strength was utterly failing;
and interposing now, he literally took the Englishman's blade to his
own, beat upon it heavily, and the next moment sent it flying through
the open window, out of which he was to have been made to jump.
Uttering a yell of fury, Sir Robert snatched the dagger from his waist,
and regardless of the danger, sprang with a yell at Denis, when the door
was suddenly flung open and an officer of halberdiers stepped in, backed
up by about a dozen followers, whose approach had been unheard, while
about a score more could be seen forming up through the window, their
great steal spears with their battle-axe blades glittering in the ruddy
evening sun.
As if moved by one impulse, everyone within the room lowered his blade,
while the King, taking in his position at a glance, and placing his own
interpretation thereon, ejaculated angrily the one word:
"Trapped!"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
WHAT DENIS THOUGHT.
"Sir Robert! Gentlemen!" cried the officer in command of the
halberdiers. "What does this mean?"
"Can't you see?" growled Sir Robert angrily. "Fighting. Chastising a
pack of insolent musicians, dancing masters, or whatever they are, who
insulted us."
"It is not true!" cried Denis angrily; and as he spoke Carrbroke, who
had received warning from one of the inn servants of the fight that was
going on, shouldered his way in through the halberdiers. "These men,
whoever they are--they cannot be gentlemen--"
"What!" roared Sir Robert.
"--insulted my master and these members of his suite," continued Denis,
gazing defiantly at the English captain. "We were standing on our
defence."
"The boy lies," cried Sir Robert.
"No: Sir Robert lies," cried Carrbroke hotly. "Captain Bowman, these
gentlemen were my father's guests last night--yes, Sir Robert, my
father's guests, and you must have insulted them, or they would not have
drawn."
"This is insufferable," cried Sir Robert.
"Yes," said the captain of the escort coldly; "quite; and I am afraid,
Sir Robert, that when his Majesty hears of the treatment which his
guests, whom I have been ordered to escort into the palace, have
received, I shall have another duty to perform."
"What do you mean?" cried Sir Robert insolently.
"Your arrest, sir, and that of your friends. I am afraid his Majesty is
getting tired of your brawling and overbearing ways."
"What!" cried Sir Robert fiercely, as he clapped his hand again to the
dagger he had sheathed.
"I see you have lost your sword," said the officer contemptuously, "and
spared me the trouble of disarming you for drawing within the precincts
of the Court. Take my advice, sir--not that of a friend, but of one who
has his duty to do towards keeping order here. Take your friends away
and consult with them as to what steps you should take before his
Majesty hears of this outrage. Monsieur le Comte," he continued,
turning to Francis, "in his Majesty's name, let me apologise for what
must have been a grievous mistake on the part of one of the King's
officers. I am commanded to escort you and your followers into the
palace, where his Majesty will receive you at once."
Francis bowed, and the halberdiers formed up ready for the visitors to
pass between their ranks, while Leoni, who looked calm and saturnine as
ever, bent forward and whispered a word or two to the King.
"My faith, yes!" he cried, and he turned to the Captain of the Guard.
"But, as you see, we are travel-stained and hot with this encounter; we
ought to have some minutes to prepare."
"His Majesty knows that you have been travelling, sir, and will not
notice that you have been making some passes in your defence. My
master, sir, is impatient, and as he expects you, if I might advise I
would say, let me lead you there at once."
The King bowed and stepped forward directly, closely followed by his
suite, and passed out to the front of the hostelry, where a little crowd
had gathered, attracted by the exciting incident that had taken place.
The next minute, with about a dozen of the halberdiers to clear the way,
the rest behind, the order was loudly given, and the little procession
moved towards the great gate of the castle on the hill, the Captain of
the Guard marching with drawn sword respectfully by the travellers'
side.
Rather breathless still, the King remained silent, while Denis could not
refrain from glancing back, to see his late adversary standing at the
inn-door in the act of taking a wine-cup from the hands of the host.
The next moment the figures of the halberdiers shut him from sight,
while the boy heard his royal master's next words, uttered in a low tone
to Leoni.
"It's wonderfully like being prisoners, doctor," he whispered; "and mind
this, if we do not get free again you'll have to pay the forfeit. Ah,
there you are, my young esquire! I'd half forgotten you. Well and
bravely fought. Yesterday, as it were, I looked upon you as a page; you
are now my esquire indeed. By my sword, the fighting we have had
already on this English soil has made quite a fire-eater of you. Why,
Leoni, I feel as ready as can be now to enter into the lion's den. Not
get out again! Tchah! With followers like these, who's going to stand
against us? _Vive la France_!"