tone. "If I might say so, I should think his Majesty King Francis would
feel proud of the bearer of his letter, if he could know how bravely one
of his nobles kept up the credit of his court of braves."
"I hope he would, Leoni," said the King, laughing to himself, and he
looked sharply upward as the halberdiers' footsteps echoed from the grey
stone walls of the arched entrance to the courtyard. "A noble-looking
castle. May I ask, monsieur the captain, what building that is to our
left--the chapel of the palace?"
"Yes, sir, and the great hall," replied the Captain of the Guard.
Then uttering a sharp order, the advance-guard bore off to the left.
"His Majesty awaits you, sir, in the ante-chamber. We turn in here for
your reception in the hall."
"Hah!" said Francis, and he looked at Denis as he spoke. "Well, boy,"
he said, in a low tone, "are you wondering what Henry of England will
think when he sees the Comte?"
"No, sir," replied the boy sharply.
"What then?"
"Will the Comte excuse me saying?" said the boy, turning furiously red.
"No, he will not," said the King sharply. "Out with it at once! What
were you thinking?"
The boy hesitated, but the King's eyes were fixed upon him fiercely, and
with a desperate effort he blurted out:
"I thought you were playing a very dangerous game."
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
A ROYAL WELCOME.
There was plenty of colour and brightness in the group awaiting the
coming of Francis and his travel-stained followers. Courtiers stood
around with their gay, picturesque garments rendered more striking by
the sunset glow, vivified by passing through a stained-glass window
which shone down upon the central figure of the group, a big, bluff,
rather heavy-faced, typically English yeoman in expression, upon whom
Francis fixed his eyes and kept them there as upon the principal
picture, all the rest being merely frame.
Irrespective of his position, the visitor would have known him at once
from the descriptions he had heard from ambassadors to the English Court
of what the English King was like; and forgetful of everything else, all
courtly custom, his secret mission, and his assumed character, Francis
made a slight obeisance and stepped forward eagerly to greet his brother
King.
On the other hand King Henry gazed curiously at his visitor who bore
such worthy credentials, and he put out his hand as he stood drawing
himself up proudly, expecting to see the Comte sink upon one knee and
press it to his lips; but, to his utter astonishment, Francis came close
up, apparently not in the slightest degree dazzled or abashed by his
magnificence, to stop short when within easy reach, and, instead of
sinking down, exclaimed, "Aha! The brave, soldierly King Hal!" clapped
both hands upon his brother monarch's shoulders, let them glide quickly
onward till they joined behind the King's neck, and the next moment the
embrace tightened as he kissed the plump cheeks that were beginning to
flame smartly in turn.
"This," he cried, "is a great joy that pays me for my long journey
here."
The English King drew back in astonishment, and glanced quickly to right
and left of his assembled courtiers, as if asking the meaning of this
outrage, this strange conduct so completely in opposition to all Court
etiquette.
He was completely stunned for the moment, and his inclination was to
exclaim, "Is this man mad?" But as he looked round it was to see face
after face expanded or contracted by the mirthful feeling within his
followers' breasts, and then rendered grotesque by their owners' efforts
to turn solemn and serious once more.
A change came over the King's countenance. It was as a reflection of
the smiles upon his courtiers' lips.
"He is a Frenchman," he said to himself, "and does not understand our
ways, though I should have thought--" he continued to himself, and then
broke off, to follow the example set him by his visitor, and clumsily
and with ill grace returned the salute, before bidding him welcome in
English, which Francis understood fairly well, turning occasionally to
Leoni, who stood close behind him, ready to interpret whenever his
master was at fault.
The interview went off very well, for Henry took at once to the bright,
vivacious French monarch, finding in him one ready to talk eagerly about
his pursuits, the pair being well in accord as to their tastes; and the
meeting was nearly brought to an end by the King telling his visitor
that the letter from his brother Francis was sufficient to make one of
his favourite nobles quite welcome to the hospitality of the English
Court.
"Believe me, I am glad to welcome my royal brother's favourite. A suite
of apartments will be prepared for you, sir, by my people, and a place
on my right hand at my table. Rest assured that your stay shall be made
pleasant here."
Francis bowed and smiled, and seemed as if about to supplement his
embrace; but the King went on speaking.
"But what is this I hear about an insult offered to one who occupies the
position of an ambassador, and whose person should be sacred? I hear,
Comte, that you were attacked by one of my officers and his companions,
here, close to my palace gates. Is it true?"
Francis shrugged his shoulders nearly to his ears with a half
contemptuous smile upon his lips.
"Oh, a mere nothing," he said; "a little sword-play."
"A mere nothing!" cried Henry fiercely. "An insult to one of my guests
a mere nothing!"
"Oh, don't speak of it," replied Francis, laughing. "I was not
surprised."
"You amaze me, sir!" cried the King.
"Indeed, Sire? Why, we always knew in France that there is nothing an
Englishman loves better than to fight. I came to your gates
unannounced, and two or three of your bluff soldiers--officers, you
say--exclaimed amongst themselves, `What does this Frenchman here,
trying to enter our master's court?' As your defenders, they drew, to
try and drive us away. But we would not be driven. Then your gallant
escort arrived. They found out the mistake, and it was all at an end.
I congratulate you, my--" Francis coughed, as if to get rid of an
impediment in his speech, or as if he were suffering from some
forgetfulness of the English words he ought to use--"my noble English
sovereign, upon having such brave defenders at your gates."
"I thank you, sir," cried Henry. "But this is too much! These soldiery
assume more than is their right. I have heard before of this man's
brawls. He is a fighter out of employment now, for we are at peace, and
I will not have him insult my guests."
"But you will pardon him, Sire?" said Francis. "We were not hurt. Next
time we meet, your brave officer will doubtless make amends."
"He must! He shall!" cried Henry hotly. "And--"
"Sire," interrupted Francis, smiling, "I am your visitor. Grant me the
first favour that I ask."
"Anything," cried the King, smiling in his turn.
"Then you will forgive this brave man?"
The King bowed.
"I wish you to be perfectly welcome at my Court, Comte; and now you
would like to retire to your rooms to rid yourselves of your
travel-stains. Later on I look to meet you at my board."
Francis bowed in turn, and drew back, seeing that the audience was at an
end, and half turning saw that Denis had approached.
"Yes, boy?" he said.
"The horses, Comte," whispered Denis.
"Ah, to be sure! They must not be left there." And he turned, to catch
the King's eye fixed on him searchingly.
"Yes, Comte," he said; "you were about to speak?"
"It is nothing, Sire," replied Francis. "My esquire reminded me that
our steeds were at the hostelry, and--"
"Ah, you love horses!" cried the King. "So do I, and the hunt as well.
My stables are at your service, and my Master of the Horse will see that
they are well bestowed. Once more, sir, the favourite of my brother
Francis is welcome here. I look to see you again to-night."
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
DENIS IS SLEEPY.
His Majesty of England was in high good humour that night, since the
preparations for the grand reception he had ordered in honour of the
ambassador-like visitor from France had been carried out quite to his
satisfaction.
There was show, there was music, and there was dancing going on, as he
entered the _salon_ from his private rooms and looked round searchingly
before turning to speak to his stately chamberlain.
"Our visitor?" he said laconically.
"Fatigued, perhaps, with the journey, Sire. He has not yet arrived."
The King frowned, and his chamberlain raised his eyebrows a little, half
expecting to be taken to task for not having the visitor there.
"See that everything is done, Hurst, so that he may go back to my
brother of France full of admiration of my Court. We must make him
envious," added the King, with a laugh.
At that moment there was a flourish of trumpets, and, escorted by two
noblemen of the English Court, Francis, followed by his three gentleman
attendants, advanced to meet the King.
Leoni watched his master narrowly as he followed his progress through
the brilliant throng of courtiers towards the spot where Henry stood
awaiting his coming, and there was but one thought animating his brain--
the thought of whether Francis with his impetuous nature would not
commit some act in this strangest of all episodes--King meeting King,
and one ignorant of the other's real identity--which would enlighten
Henry and maybe bring disaster on them all.
"But Henry has never seen our King," he murmured softly to himself.
"Why should there be this presagement of harm? He cannot be recognised
here, or if any of these gentlemen who have travelled do imagine a
resemblance, they will laugh it on one side."
He felt reassured again as he saw Henry advance a step to meet his guest
and take his hand with a few words of welcome, ere he pointed to a seat
near at hand.
"Our brother of France is indeed fortunate," he said, "to be represented
by yourself, Comte." And then followed words which Leoni did not hear,
for a gentleman approached the group formed by himself, Saint Simon, and
Denis, and with a bow said courteously:
"May I present you gentlemen to his Majesty?"
A minute later Leoni heard Francis say:
"Your Majesty will permit me to present to your notice Master Rene
Leoni, the most learned of doctors, and at the same time one of the most
tyrannical. But to those who understand well the subtle art of
medicine, we must forgive all."
"True," said Henry, and he leaned forward with a gracious inclination.
"We can read in your countenance, sir, the deep learning of the south.
Would to Heaven that there were more of it here! I trust that the stay
you make at our Court will not be displeasing to you, for that it will
be productive to us I make no doubt."
Leoni bowed low before the two Kings.
"My master has exaggerated my poor abilities, your Majesty," he said,
and then he drew back to allow of the introduction of his two
companions, to each of whom Henry addressed words of encouragement and
welcome.
Later, as the music struck up, the English King turned to his visitor
and asked more questions concerning Francis.
"He is at Fontainebleau?" he asked.
"Not at present, Sire," said Francis drily, and with a glance at Leoni.
"Ah!" and Henry seemed to relapse into thought.
"I would that he were here, Sire, in order that he might see how well
you treat his envoys."
But Henry waved the compliment aside.
"Tell me about France," he said; "tell me about France." And he looked
fixedly at the messenger from the kingdom of the fleur-de-lys, while
Leoni would have given anything to draw nearer, to gather up if it were
only scraps of the conversation that ensued; but he was bound to imitate
the action of those around and draw back, full of anxiety about his
pupil, but fain to content himself with looking around at the gay
throng, before sinking into a chair where he could think about his
mission, his searching eyes always busy looking about, especially at the
jewels that were flashing on every side, as he hungrily sought for some
thread which might form a clue to lead him ultimately to the object of
his quest.
Meanwhile Denis and Saint Simon, looking as courtly as the most brightly
dressed among whom they stood, were invited by one of the dignified
functionaries to join in the dance, but declined on the score of
fatigue; and the former had sauntered away from the throng, to stand
near a curtained window a moment, when he heard his name spoken, and a
hand was laid on his arm. He turned sharply, to find himself face to
face with Carrbroke.
"Found you," he said. "Well, it did not require my services to show you
the Court. What do you think of it? Better than Fontainebleau, is it
not?"
It was not necessary for Denis to reply, because his companion went on
quickly to speak of other things.
"We shall be able to see a great deal of each other, I hope," he said.
"I hope so," responded Denis readily.
"I am sure. There is a great banquet to-morrow. You will be there."
"Would they ask me?"
"Why, of course; but--here, come this way," and Carrbroke touched the
other's arm. "You are not going to dance, so let us talk--out here in
the garden."
Denis accompanied his friend out on to a wide terrace where there came
to the ear the sound of the music still, and where there were the
thousand scents of the flowers on that soft June night.
"The King sometimes walks here," said the lad; "but he will not come
to-night. I like this place. Yonder is the river. You have not a
river like that?"
"Oh, we have the Seine."
Carrbroke made a movement of dissent.
"They laugh at me here," he said, "because I fish. Lord Hurst would
have one always wearing one's best and acting the courtier; but the King
loves sport, and so do I. Let's go this way, and enter the palace by
another door. There will be supper soon, and one must eat."
A moment before, Denis was beginning to think that the place was not so
attractive after all, but the word supper seemed to accord well with his
sensations.
He was weary with the excitement of the day, and he suddenly felt that
some of his distaste was due to hunger, which he was ready enough to
appease, being well looked after by his new friend; while the rest of
the evening was filled up by faintly heard sounds of music and
conversation which seemed to be buzzing around him, as he sat back in
one of the many chairs of the grand _salon_, completely overcome by an
invincible sense of drowsiness which seemed dark and cloudy, while out
of it came a familiar voice, saying:
"Why, Denis, boy, I have been seeking you everywhere. Saint Simon was
looking for you too, and said you must have gone off to bed."
"Bed--bed?" the boy remembered saying, and then all was confused again
till Master Leoni's voice whispered in his ear:
"Come, wake up."
"Where's Carrbroke?" he said drowsily.
"Gone away in attendance on the King, who will soon be leaving the
_salon_. Come, we must be in attendance too."
The next thing that occurred was the sudden starting up of the boy in
his bed, with the bright morning sun shining in through the window.
"Where am I?" he muttered. "How did I come here?" And then by degrees
he began to have some faint recollection of Leoni helping him to his
room.
"Why, I must have disgraced myself in some way," he muttered. "What
could I have done? Gone to sleep in the middle of that _fete_? I don't
know; everything seems a blank."
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
CARRBROKE TELLS SECRETS.
The days passed quickly, with the Kings the best of friends, for Francis
proved himself a boon companion, a good horseman, and quite after the
King's own heart.
He made himself a favourite too, and the most courtly at the Court,
ready if he had been present to have brought a sneering smile to the
lips of Sir Robert Garstang, who, when the minstrels were busy in their
gallery, might have seen some justification of the bullying captain's
sneer respecting dancing masters, for Francis was ever ready and eager
to lead some Court lady through the mazes of the dance.
For revels were plentiful at Windsor then, and Denis in the
companionship of Carrbroke found the time pass pleasantly enough, on the
terraces, in the park, and along the banks of the silver Thames; but he
was quite forgetful for the most part of the special mission upon which
he had crossed the sea.
For Ned Carrbroke had always something fresh to propose in the way of
horsemanship, and often enough invited his French companion to
sword-play, which was readily accepted; and to Carrbroke's wonder and
delight Leoni would come to look on, and at Denis's request advise them
upon questions dealing with offence and defence, and proper conduct of
the rapier both in French and Italian schools.
"Why, he's splendid," cried Carrbroke one day, "only I don't like him.
He puts me out of heart. I used to think that I was a good fencer, but
when I cross swords with him I feel quite a baby. You are lucky to have
some one like that to give you lessons. Why, you must be splendid
yourself."
Denis laughed merrily.
"Why," he said, "I always feel worse than you. Master Leoni, when I
fence with him and he gives me a lesson, makes me feel as if there were
magic in his blade which sends a strange aching pain all up the muscles
of my arm."
"Yes," cried Carrbroke, "that's something like what I feel. I say, he's
your friend, isn't he?"
"Well, hardly a friend. I feel more afraid of him than anything."
"Yes," said Carrbroke eagerly, "that's how I feel--well, not afraid," he
continued hastily, and flushing up; "but you won't mind my speaking out?
You and I seem to have so taken to one another."
"Well, yes," said Denis, "we do seem to like one another a bit."
"Then you won't mind my speaking out quite plainly?" continued
Carrbroke.
"Not I. What is it?"
"Only this. Do you think that there is something queer in his blade?"
"Only that it is best Italian steel."
"Yes, of course," said Carrbroke impatiently. "But I mean what they
call magic--that there is something curious in it? You see, it turns
so, and seems so strong."
"Yes, that is strange," said Denis. "It is no matter how you parry; the
point always seems as if it could enter your breast if it liked. I
always feel that Master Leoni could kill anyone just as he pleased."
"Of course you believe in magic?" said Carrbroke.
"I don't know. I suppose I do," replied Denis.
"I do," said Carrbroke; "and your friend seems so different from other
men. Look at his eye."
"Oh, I never do if I can help it," said Denis. "You've noticed it,
then?"
"Noticed it?" cried Carrbroke. "Who could help it? When he fixes it on
me, as he always does, it makes me shiver; although he is always very
kind, there is something about him I can't understand, and if he were my
enemy I should be ready to give everything up and go away. There, what
a bad job! I was just going to say, let's go for a long ride, or else
make some of the King's rowers take us up the river, and then float
down, and it's going to rain, and I don't want to get wet. It spoils
one's doublet so. Here, I know; I'll take you all through the castle,
if I can, into all the King's private rooms. They'll be with the ladies
at this time of day. I can show you everything that there is to see."
"Can you?" said Denis, whose thoughts suddenly turned to his mission
there.
"Oh yes; I am allowed to go where I like, as the King's youngest
esquire." And then half pettishly: "They consider me only a boy. But
come along."
Carrbroke was quite right, for the rain began streaming down; and a few
minutes afterwards the two lads were in the royal apartments, which were
quite deserted, and Carrbroke was proudly showing the different
pictures, King Henry's armour, and choice collections of weapons of war.
At last he stopped in front of a beautiful Italian cabinet which
differed from ordinary pieces of furniture, being made to stand
four-square in the centre of the apartment, each side being richly
ornamented with carving and delicate inlaid work which covered the doors
and drawers.
"I wish I had the keys of that," said Carrbroke.
"Why? What's inside?"
"I hardly know; but my father told me once to take notice of it, for he
believed that it was full of gems and curious jewels that had been
presented to the King. I never saw it open yet, but there must be many
curiosities there, swords and petronels, as well as jewels."
"Indeed!" said Denis, colouring slightly.
"Oh yes; some of those curious gems that they say have magic
properties--charms, don't they call them? Magic crystals that confer
singular powers upon those who own them, bring good luck, and influence
the fate of people. I say, do you believe in such things as that?"
"Ye-es, I think I do," said Denis, and the colour on his cheeks grew a
little deeper, and then deeper still, and he winced a little as if he
felt that Carrbroke's searching eyes were reading his inmost thoughts;
and then he started and felt worse, for it seemed to him that his
companion suspected his reasons for being there, so that he was ready to
utter a sigh of relief when Carrbroke said:
"Well, you needn't look like that. You needn't be ashamed to believe in
such things. I do, for there's a lot one doesn't understand. I was
told once that different precious stones have very curious qualities;
some will protect anyone from magic, some from enemies. There was a
ring I once heard of which if a person wore would guard him from poison.
It was an Italian ring, I suppose, for I believe that they try to
poison people there."
"Yes, I have heard so," said Denis drily, as he stood with his eyes
fixed upon the cabinet, wondering whether the treasure Leoni sought
could be there. "But it seems nonsense. I don't see how a diamond or a
ruby could do such things."
"No," said Carrbroke; "no more do I, unless you swallowed it to keep the
poison from doing harm. Perhaps it's all nonsense. But the King
believes it, I suppose."
"Why do you say so?" asked Denis.
"Because he's got a lot of such things in here. I say, don't you feel
as if you'd like to smuggle some of them?"
"What!" cried Denis, flushing scarlet and gazing wildly in his
companion's eyes.
"Don't look like that," cried Carrbroke, laughing. "I said smuggle; I
didn't say steal. I thought you might feel as if you'd like to have one
of these charms which hold such magic power."
"I am not afraid of being poisoned," said Denis huskily. "Here, come
away from this; show me something else."
"Oh, haven't you seen enough? But I say, is this better or worse than
Fontainebleau?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Denis hastily, for he felt mentally disturbed.
"They are both beautiful places. Where does that corridor lead?"
"All along one side of the King's apartments."
"Well, let's go down there."
"But there's nothing to show you but furniture and walls covered with
arras and--oh yes, there is: I know. I say, you haven't got any secret
passages at Fontainebleau?"
"We have all kinds of places hidden in the walls. Have you got any
here?"
Carrbroke nodded.
"I say, we are friends, aren't we?"
"Of course; the best of friends."
"Then I'll show you something; only it's a secret. Not that it matters
about you knowing it, as you are not going to live here. It's something
I found out myself. I was on duty here--as page in attendance on the
King--one evening, just at dusk, and the candles weren't lit. There had
been a grand banquet the night before, with music and dancing, and I'd
been up all night, and just as it began to grow dark I turned so sleepy
I couldn't keep my eyes open. I tried ever so hard, but it was of no
use, and I sank down in a chair close up to the hangings in a dark
corner, and was asleep in a moment. I don't think it could have been
long before I woke up again with a start. I suppose some noise must
have woke me, and I sat there staring and wondering where I was, for I
felt quite stupid, when all at once the arras that covered the wall just
opposite to me seemed to open, and something dark came out, to stand
still for a few moments as if listening. Then there was a rustling of
hangings, and the dark figure came straight towards me, making me turn
cold; for I felt then that I had been asleep, and I thought it was some
one come to punish me. But the figure did not come close up to where I
sat, but suddenly turned off towards a light which appeared at the end
of the corridor and came nearer, while directly after I made out that
some of the servants were bringing in candles, and directly after,
though I only saw his back, I knew it was the King."
"Then he didn't see you?" said Denis.
"No, fortunately for me."
"Then he must have come out of some secret passage."
"That was it, and of course you know what I did afterwards--not then,
but the first day that I had the chance?"