"Yes, and I found it; and that's what I'm going to show you. We are not
likely to be disturbed now."
Before many minutes had elapsed the two youths were standing in front of
a huge needlework picture representing a classic scene, covered with
warriors and triumphal cars.
"There, you wouldn't think there was a door behind there, would you?"
"No, that I shouldn't," replied Denis.
"But there is. You see that warrior's shield with the boss on it that
stands out as if it were real?"
"Yes," said Denis; "it is very cleverly done."
"Yes, but it is real," said Carrbroke, and he glanced to right and left
to see if they were observed. "We are quite alone. Now you touch that
boss."
"Yes: it's hard and round," said Denis.
"Now give it a twist."
Denis did as he was told, and there was a faint click like the lifting
of a latch.
"Now push," continued Carrbroke.
Denis again obeyed, and something gave way as if he had pushed a door
which opened from him.
"Now then," said Carrbroke, "what do you think of that?"
"That if I lifted the arras I could pass into another room."
"Not quite right; not into another room, but into a dark passage made in
the wall. I went in one day when the King was out hunting and I felt
grumpy because I had been left behind, and I thought I should like to
see what there was there."
"Yes, and you went?" said Denis eagerly. "Yes, all along a dark passage
for ever so far. Then I came to another door, which opened easily, and
there was a flight of stairs; at the bottom of that there was another
door and another long passage, twice as long as the first, and then
another door."
"Did you open that?"
"Yes; and where do you think I was?"
"I don't know. In the cellars perhaps."
"No; in a dark part of the terrace all amongst the trees. Then I wasn't
satisfied, for it was all new to me, and I felt curious to see where the
dark winding walk that was before me went to."
"Yes," said Denis eagerly; "and where did it lead?"
"Right away down and down to some stone steps close to a little pavilion
on the banks of the river, where there was a boat fastened to a post.
That was the King's private way, of course."
"Yes," said Denis; "but what did he want it for?"
"Oh, I don't know; and I didn't want to know, for anyone who meddled
with the King's secrets might come in for the loss of his head, and I
didn't want to lose mine. I came back as fast as I could. There, you
can have a look through into the dark passage if you like. Kneel down
and lift up the hangings. There, what can you see?" continued the lad,
as Denis obeyed, finding the abundant folds give way easily, so that he
could peer right beyond.
"Nothing at all; it is quite dark."
"Come away," said Carrbroke quickly. "That's right," he continued, and
then quickly taking Denis's place he quite disappeared.
"Am I to follow?" said Denis wonderingly; but he had hardly finished
speaking before Carrbroke reappeared, laughing.
"Only shutting the door," he said. "Has anyone seen us?"
"No," said Denis, after a glance in both directions.
"That's right," said Carrbroke. "I say, though, it is interesting,
isn't it? But now I've told you I can't help wondering why I did. But
there, you won't go and tell King Hal that I told you his secrets, will
you?"
"Not very likely, is it?" said Denis, smiling, but troubled the while by
an uncomfortable sensation which made him feel as if he regretted his
knowledge, though at the same time he knew that he had acquired
information that might be of extreme value if their masquerading were
discovered, perhaps mean the saving of his King.
His musings were suddenly broken off by the voice of companion.
"There," he said, "let's go out of doors in the sunshine. I feel as if
I had got dark passage on the brain."
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
SO DOES DENIS.
It was the very next day that Denis, after his attendance upon Francis,
who had gone to join Henry, was alone in the King's apartments, standing
in the deep recess of a casement window, which he had flung open, and
was leaning out gazing at the landscape stretching far and wide before
him, and giving him a silvery glimpse here and there of the bright
glittering river.
He was so lost in admiration of the scene that he did not hear the door
open, and was only made conscious of some one being in the room behind
him by hearing a low muttering voice say:
"A blind search! A blind search! What shall I do next to bring it to
an end?"
Denis made a sharp movement, catching the sleeve of his doublet against
the copper fastening which held open the casement; and as he turned a
nervous hand suddenly seized him by the shoulder in a painful grasp, for
it was as if fingers of steel were pressing into his flesh.
"You, Master Leoni!" he cried, as the clutch was relaxed as quickly as
it came. "Yes, my boy," said the doctor; and the lad shivered slightly
as the fierce fire in one of Leoni's eyes died into a pleasant smile,
though the cold fixed stare in the other remained the same as of old.
"I thought I was alone."
"Well, boy; do you like your life here in the castle?"
"Oh yes," cried Denis; "but when are we to have, Carrbroke and I,
another fencing lesson?"
"At any time when the King does not require my services," said Leoni,
smiling. "Why, you will soon be a better swordsman than I."
"Oh, sir!" cried Denis deprecatingly.
"Well, say as good, my dear boy, when you know all that I can teach
you."
"And you will teach me all, sir?"
"Of course, of course," said the doctor, laying his hand caressingly on
the boy's shoulder. "You are a pupil of whom I feel proud. But tell
me," he continued, as he passed his hand softly along the muscles of the
lad's arm, "what about the stiffness and pain?"
"All gone, sir. That salve you applied seemed to make it pass entirely
away."
"That is good," said the doctor, nodding his head. "But tell me, boy,
was I speaking aloud when I came into the room?"
"Not aloud, sir, but just so that I could hear what you said."
"Ah, a bad habit! And what did I say?"
"It was something about a blind search."
"Ah, yes; and you guessed at once what I meant?"
"Why, yes, sir. I immediately thought that you meant the--"
With a quick movement, accompanied by a smile, Leoni's long, thin, brown
fingers were laid upon Denis's lips.
"Hist, boy! We are in King Henry's palace, where walls may have ears.
Speak it not. We understand one another, and know what in our master's
service we have come to seek. Denis, you are a boy in years, but I find
you in many things a man at heart, and there should be no half
confidences between us two. I like you, my boy, and always have, stern
and cold and severe as I may have seemed. My face may have been hard,
but there are moments when my heart is soft. Denis, my son, we are
working for the King and for France, and so far I am at fault. I
thought my task would be so easy that, once here, that which we seek
would be within my grasp; and so far it seems beyond me, while the
golden hours glide swiftly away, and before many days have passed our
visit with all its risks must have an end. I shiver sometimes, boy, as
I stand close by and listen to our master's careless, light-hearted
speech. Again and again he has been within an ace of betraying who he
is, and at any moment some of the sharper-witted of the courtiers by
whom we are surrounded may grasp the truth, and then, Denis, as Francis
has said, we are in the lion's den and the risk is great."
"Yes, sir; I see all that," said Denis, in a low earnest whisper. "Then
you have no idea where the jewel of France is kept?"
"Not the slightest, boy, and I want you to use your eyes and ears to
help me all you can. There is that young English esquire. You are
great friends; perhaps he might know. I don't like asking you to play
the spy and betray your friend, but the English are our natural enemies.
We are here upon a sacred mission, and we must quiet our consciences
with the recollection that what we seek was torn by conquest from the
Valois diadem."
"Yes, I know, sir," whispered Denis eagerly, influenced as he was by the
masterful spirit and words of his tutor.
"Then try, boy; try your best to help me, while we have time. You
promise me this?"
"Of course, sir. But what," cried Denis, with his eyes flashing, "if I
already know?"
"Boy!" cried Leoni excitedly; and he caught his young companion by the
shoulders, but checked himself, instantly drew back, walked slowly
across the room to the door, opened it and looked out, and then came
back and signed to Denis to close the window, while he softly moved here
and there; and the boy noticed how, as if to examine the beauty of the
silken hangings, he touched them again and again, as if to make sure
that no listener was concealed behind.
Leoni ended by joining his young companions in the deep embrasure of the
window, taking him by the arm, and pressing him towards the diamond
panes of the casement as if to draw his attention to something out
beyond the terrace and the steep slope below.
"Now," he said, in a quick whisper, "speak beneath your breath. You
know where?"
"In the tall, square-turreted cabinet three parts of the way down the
long corridor by the King's private apartments."
"Ah, I have not been there, and dared not raise suspicion by asking
permission to go. Are you sure?"
"Carrbroke has as good as told me it was there. He spoke of a charm
with fateful powers of its own, and that the King held gems as sacred
relics."
"Ah!" ejaculated Leoni softly. "Boy, you make me begin to live."
"Shall I tell you something more, sir?"
"There can be nothing more that I wish to hear," whispered Leoni. "Boy,
you have filled an empty void. But speak; tell me what more you have to
say."
"The King has a secret passage whose door is in the arras two chambers
down the long corridor farther on."
"Young Carrbroke told you so?"
"Yes."
"Bah! But it would be a secret way known only to himself, of no avail
to us. It could not be found. Once the relic is in our hands, a silken
rope and some window must be our way."
"But I know the secret of the passage, sir, how to open the door, and
where the passage leads."
"Where, boy, where?" cried Leoni excitedly.
"Down to the grounds, and then by a long winding alley through the
private gardens to the riverside."
"Hist!" whispered Leoni. "No more, boy, for your words have seemed to
burn. Ah, it is strange! The workings too of fate. What I have
striven for in vain has come to you without seeking, without thought.
It is fate, boy, fate. The spirit of our great nation is working on our
behalf, and has made you the chosen instrument of our success. We must,
we shall succeed, and through you. Now silence; not another word but
these. I say silence, Denis. It is for our master's sake and for _la
France_."
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
THE CHAMBERLAIN HAS SUSPICIONS.
Several days passed at the Court in a succession of gaieties including
hunting, an excursion on the river, and at night banquet and dance.
Henry was charmed with the pleasant sprightliness of his guest, whose
lively French manner attracted him more and more. He distinguished
himself in the field and in the chivalrous sports in the Castle Yard.
There were moments when the King looked grim and slightly disposed to be
jealous of the applause given to the Comte, and more than once Lord
Hurst saw his master frown heavily upon seeing how great a favourite
Francis had made himself with the courtiers, who were delighted with the
change the gay Frenchman made in the monotony of their daily life. But
Leoni felt that the luxurious seats he occupied at Windsor were stuffed
with thorns, and that they were placed close to the edge of a mine that
might at any moment explode.
Still the time wore on and the danger seemed as far off as ever, for in
obedience to Leoni's prompting Francis, though often sailing very near
the wind, dexterously gave a turn to the rudder just at the right time,
and the doctor breathed freely once again, while he waited for the
moment when he could put into action one or other of the plans he had
thought out, to get possession of the fateful jewel whose resting-place
he felt he knew, lying as it did, though still distant, almost within
his grasp. For short of gaining entrance to the private corridor where
it lay, and boldly breaking open the cabinet some night, to carry off
the prize, he could not yet see his way.
"That must be the last resource," he said to Denis. "The Comte and I
must exercise subtlety. The knowledge came from you, boy--given to you
by fate; and we must wait longer, even if it be for days. Who knows
but, as she has favoured us so far, fate may place in our hands the
fruit that is ripe to pluck?"
"I wish they'd pluck it or leave it alone," said Denis to himself. "I
hate the whole business. It is very pleasant being here, and Carrbroke
makes himself quite like a brother, though I can't help laughing at him
sometimes when he speaks such bad French; but that doesn't matter. He
laughs at my bad English just the same, and it's all capital sport when
we are together, if I didn't feel so treacherous. There are times when
I should like to tell him all, and why we are here; but I can't, for
that would be behaving treacherously to my King."
The lad ended his musings rather gloomily, as he felt sure that before
long they would be found out and the daring business be all come to an
end.
Similar thoughts kept Leoni awake the greater part of each night in his
luxurious chamber, spoiling his rest, and making him attend his master
the next morning terribly troubled in mind, but only to brighten up on
finding how well in favour the Comte seemed with the King, who was
always seeking his visitor out for some new pursuit in courtly pleasure
or excursion.
But the cloud was gathering all the same, and the discovery very near at
hand.
One morning Lord Hurst was in attendance upon Henry, making his
customary daily reports and taking his orders for various preparations
to carry out something fresh in the way of entertainment, when the King
waved his hand impatiently.
"There, there," he cried, "no more of this!" Then, good-humouredly,
"Well, Hurst, what do you think of our ambassador?"
"Think of him, Sire?" replied the courtier.
"Yes, yes," cried the King testily. "Do I not speak plainly? Why do
you look at me like that? Do you not think he is a most worthy
representative of his master?"
"Undoubtedly, Sire, but--"
"Hurst," cried the King furiously, "have I not made you my trusted
adviser?"
"Yes, Sire, and I am your faithful servant, always ready to advise."
"Then why do you not speak out? I know you of old. You are keeping
something back. What does this mean? Have you some suspicion about
this man? Hah! I have it! You believe him to be a spy sent by Francis
to learn all he can about my Court--about my realm! Man, man, you do
not believe that this French King is plotting something to rob me
farther of the possessions gained by my ancestors in the past?"
"No, Sire, no; but I am troubled in my mind," said Hurst, speaking in a
low anxious tone.
"Out with it, then! What is your suspicion? What is it you know?"
"I know nothing, Sire," replied Hurst; "but I am troubled, in my grave
anxiety for my master's weal, as to the real motives of this Comte's
visit."
"Hah!"
"And I doubt, Sire, as to his being the Comte de la Seine."
"What!" cried the King. "Some impostor! Hurst! This is an insult to
my guest, as noble and accomplished a gentleman as ever entered our
Court--one whom I already look upon as my friend. Speak, man! What is
it you think--that he is some cheat?"
"Cheat, Sire? No; but I believe him to be far higher in station than he
says."
"Hah! Higher? How could he be higher?"
"Some prince, Sire, of royal blood."
"Bah!" cried the King contemptuously. "Fool! Dreamer! And at a time
like this, when the horses are waiting and my guest doubtless ready,
waiting till I join him! Always like this, Hurst, thinking out some
wild diplomatic folly to cast like a stumbling-block in my way when I am
upon pleasure bent. It is but little rest I get from cares of state,
and you grudge me even that. Bah! I will hear no more.--Stop!" cried
the King, after turning away. "See that there is a better banquet
to-night, something more done to honour my French brother's emissary;
more music and dancing, too. There, that is enough." And, hot and
fuming, the King strode from the chamber, leaving his chamberlain
standing alone, thoughtful and heavy.
Shortly afterwards there came through the open window the trampling of
horses, eager voices, dominating all the loud, bluff, hearty voice of
the King, followed by the sharper, rather metallic tones of the Comte,
and then the merry laughter and ejaculations of the ladies who had
joined the cavalcade. Then silence once again.
"Perhaps I am wrong," said the chamberlain thoughtfully; "and too much
zeal may prove my ruin, for mine is a dangerous post and I fear that I
have gone too far. I don't know, though. The suspicion seems to grow.
We shall see, though; we shall see."
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
AND OPENS THE KING'S EYES.
The chamberlain had worthily carried out his master's orders, and the
scene in connection with the supper that night was brighter than ever;
but the King did not seem satisfied. His heavy face looked gloomy, and
Francis banteringly asked him if he was too much wearied by the hunt
that day, receiving a grave nod in reply.
Later on Francis, who was excited and annoyed by the dullness of his
host, made an excuse to leave him and join the dance, but only to find
his progress stayed by Leoni, who led him aside to make some
communication--one which made his master frown and whisper back angrily.
But Leoni spoke again, and Denis, who was near, saw the King make a
deprecating gesture with his hands, and then hurry off to enter the
_salon_ where the dancing was going on.
Denis stood watching Leoni, who stood looking thoughtfully after his
master.
"I thought so," said the boy to himself, for as he watched Leoni he saw
the doctor turn slowly and with his peculiar fixed look sweep the
well-filled room till his eye rested upon the young esquire.
The next moment he had raised his finger to his lips, gazing at him
fixedly for some moments, before turning and moving towards the door,
when Denis heaved a deep sigh and looked round in vain in search of
Saint Simon; but he was nowhere near, and the boy slowly followed Leoni,
whom he found waiting for him just outside the door.
Meanwhile Hurst, upon seeing the Comte's departure, drew near to where
Henry sat moody and alone, the various gentlemen in attendance, knowing
their master's ways, having drawn back a little, to enter into a forced
conversation, waiting for the King's next move.
They had not long to wait, for he suddenly looked round till his eyes
rested upon the chamberlain, when he rose, to lay his hand upon his
counsellor's shoulder and walk out with him towards the now deserted
corridor, into which the strains of music from the ballroom floated
again and again.
"There, Hurst," he cried, as soon as they were alone, and they paced
together slowly towards the end, "what am I to say to you?"
"Sire?"
"If I were not in a good humour I should be disposed to punish you by
the loss of my favour for spoiling what ought to have been a joyous
day."
"Sire, I am deeply grieved. You must credit me with anxiety in my duty
towards your Majesty."
"Yes, yes, I do," cried the King impatiently. "But your suspicions have
been absurd, and have made me behave almost rudely to my brother's
ambassador, as noble a gentleman as I ever met. Zounds, man! Is a
king's life always to be made bitter by his people's dreams of plots?
Your suspicions are all folly. He a prince of France! Absurd!"
The chamberlain walked on in silence, and stopped short where the
corridor opened out into a well-lit chamber whose walls were hung with
portraits.
"Well," said the King, "what now?"
"Would your Majesty step here into this alcove?" said the chamberlain,
after a quick glance around to see that they were alone.
"What now?" cried the King angrily.
The chamberlain made no reply, but still stepped forward to the far side
of the chamber, where he took a candle from one of the sconces on the
wall to hold it up above his head in front of a large full-length
canvas, the work of some great master, whose brush had so vividly
delineated the features of his subject that the portrait seemed to gaze
fixedly down at the King, while a faint smile just flickered upon its
lips.
"Does your Majesty know those features?" said the chamberlain. "Who is
that?"
"What!" cried the King, in startled tones. "Philippe de Valois."
"Yes, Sire; and my suspicion grows stronger every hour."
"Hah!" cried the King. "But no: impossible! And yet the same eyes;
that same careless, half mocking smile. Hurst, there is something in
this. The features are similar."
"Yes, Sire. It is a strong family resemblance."
"But who could it be, and why should he come here? To play the spy; for
it could mean nothing else. What sinister plots and plans can there be
behind all this? But you were thinking. You know something more?"
"I know no more than your Majesty. I only suspect."
"Suspect! Suspicion! I hate the very sounds of the words, and all the
black clouds that hang around them. A family resemblance? Then who
could this man be?"
The chamberlain was silent.
"Man," whispered the King hoarsely, "you are my servant. Don't thwart
me now. If you value your place here--more, your life--speak out!"
The chamberlain returned the candle to the sconce, and then said slowly:
"Your servant's life is at your service, Sire. I am not sure, but I
tell you honestly that which I believe. This gentleman is wearing a
disguise, and comes here under an assumed name, and from my soul I
believe he is--"
"Who?" whispered the King, grasping him fiercely by the arm.
"Francis, King of France."
"Hah!" ejaculated the King hoarsely, and with his face taking a fierce
expression mingled with anger, surprise, and triumph. "And what has
brought him here? If you are right. Hurst--mind, I say, if you are
right--But you had never seen this man before, and it may be only a
resemblance."
"It may, your Majesty, but--"
"If it is," whispered the King, with his face looking purple in the dim
light, "the fox has come unbidden into the lion's den, and if the lion
should raise his paw, where would be the fox?"
He looked fiercely and meaningly in his follower's eyes.
"France," continued the King, in a hoarse whisper. "France, how much of
those fair domains won by my predecessors with the sword have been
wrested from the English crown bit by bit--the noble domains over which
these Valois now rule as usurpers. Hurst, what if the sceptre of
England should be held again swaying our ancient lands of France.
Supposing, I say, there were no Valois, or he perforce had been called
upon to render back all that had been stolen from our crown. I am the
King, and as my father used his gallant sword to gain one kingdom, why
should not I by a diplomatic move win back another?"
"Your Majesty is King," said the chamberlain slowly and meaningly.
"Yes," said the King, in a hoarse whisper; "and when I am moved to act
my will is strong."
There was silence for a few moments, and then Henry continued angrily:
"A ruse--a trick, put upon me for some strange scheming of his own, a
gin, a trap to capture me, but for the setter to be caught himself.
Francis, King of France!" he continued hoarsely; and then a peculiar
smile, mocking, bitter, and almost savage, came upon his, lips as he
gazed piercingly at his companion.
"No, Hurst," he said meaningly, "I know no King of France. He would not
dare to beard me in my own home like this. This man, this mock
ambassador, this Comte de la Seine, is the only one with whom we have to
do--an impostor who shall meet with the trickster's fate."
"But your Majesty--" said the chamberlain eagerly.
"My Majesty, Hurst, is going to work his own will, and as he will."
"But, Sire, you will be just?"
"Yes, Hurst, as I always am. I grant that you may still be wrong, and
we will clear this up."
"Your Majesty is going to--"
"Straight to the ballroom," replied the King, "to see this Comte de la
Seine and have the truth."
"Now, Sire?"
"Yes, now at once."