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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 12. A Well-Meant Warning |
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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. A WELL-MEANT WARNING Saint Simon glanced in the direction indicated, to see across the yard the King standing at the open doorway, talking, and evidently questioning their hostess, who was pointing towards the stable where the young men were. "Now for a storm, Denis, boy, with plenty of royal thunder, and flashes of lightning from his kingly eyes. Bah! How hard it is to forget his rank! How are you now?" "Oh, better. The sight of--the Comte seems to string me up." "Come on, then, to make our excuses for the breach of duty, and take our three witnesses to back our words." The young men led the chargers out through the low doorway into the yard and began crossing to where the King was drawing himself up with a stern look upon his countenance, his right hand upon his hip, his left upon his sword-hilt, which he kept on pressing down and elevating and lowering the long thin blade behind him, the afternoon sun throwing it out in a long dark streak from his shadow, giving him the effect of some monster wagging its wiry tail. The hostess was still there, drawing back a little into the shadow of the comparatively dark doorway, a mingling of curiosity and sympathy detaining her to hear how her offending guests would fare. She had not long to wait, for as the young men came up with the horses' hoofs clattering upon the paved way, "Now, gentlemen," was growled forth, "why am I left like this? And by whose orders have you brought forth those steeds?" "What!" thundered the King fiercely, after hearing a brief narration of his followers' adventure; and turning to their hostess, who heard every word and stood loaning forward with agitated face and clasped hands, "And so, madam, you call this the safety of your inn! This, then, is the meaning of that warning paper which you have disavowed. Gentlemen, we seem to have settled in a nest of thieves. Have your valises placed at your saddles. I thank you for the way in which you have saved us from disaster at the beginning of our journey. We will ride on at once." "Oh," ejaculated the hostess, "that it should come to this!" And ceasing to wring her hands she ran out past them and crossed the yard to the open stable-door, disappeared for just long enough to verify the young men's words by a sight of the sleeping grooms, and then came running back to where her guests were making preparations to continue their journey. "Oh, my lord," she cried, "it is a disgrace and shame to my house that all this should have taken place. I pray your forgiveness." "Indeed, madam!" said the King haughtily. "Tell my gentlemen there what there is to pay, and spare your words." "But, my lord--" "Silence, madam! I have spoken. Gentlemen--" "But, my lord," she interrupted, "I will have trusty strong men to watch the stables and the house all night. This was the work of a stranger-- some horse-thief from afar. It cannot occur again." The King waved his hand, and turned to his followers. "Gentlemen, you will not leave those horses a moment. Finish the preparations. Pay this woman, Saint Simon, and come and tell me when all is ready for the start." Then turning his back upon the hostess, he strode into the house, fuming with rage and glowering fiercely at the group of servants whom he passed. "Oh, woe is me!" sobbed the landlady, wringing her hands. "That this great misfortune should happen to such a noble lord as this! And this gallant boy too, hurt as he is! No, no, sir," she cried pettishly to Saint Simon, who approached her, purse in hand; "don't talk to me about money. I am thinking of the honour of my house. There, there," she cried, lowering her tone; and she caught Denis by the doublet and signed to his friend to come closer. "Your lord is angry," she said, "and he has just cause; but you two must speak to him and try to calm his wrath. I have made all preparations for his staying here to-night, and believe me, everything is safe. I will have trusty friends in, and not a soul here but you shall close an eye. You must sleep here to-night." "Must, madam?" said Denis, forgetting his own sufferings in something like amusement at his hostess's pertinacity. "There is no must with our lord." "Don't say that, my child," cried the woman anxiously. "He must give way to-night. I can see with a mother's eye that you are not fit to mount your horse. You are hurt, and need rest. Go to him and persuade him that he must stay." "Madam, it is impossible," said Denis; "and leave me, please. You heard our lord's commands. We have our preparations to make." As he spoke Denis glanced at Saint Simon, who had waved back a man who came to help, and was examining their horses' girths himself. Then, turning his eyes towards the doorway, he caught sight of the King returning, unnoticed by the landlady, who clutched at Denis's doublet again, and continued in a low, excited voice: "You do not know, my child. Before long it will be dark." "There will be a moon nearly at the full, madam," said Denis. "Oh yes, yes, sir; if it is not clouded over; but the road from here towards London is through the forest and overhung with trees and--and," she added, in a whisper, "it is not safe." "We have our swords, madam," said the youth; but he winced as he spoke, for his right arm seemed to give him a sudden warning twinge of his inability to use his weapon. "What do you mean about the road not being safe?" The woman drew herself closer to him, and her ruddy buxom face became blotched with white. "Bad men," she whispered. "Robbers and murderers have a stronghold in the forest, from which they come out to lay wait for rich travellers." "Are they mounted men?" said Denis, as the King slowly drew nearer. "Yes," she said, "with the best of horses." "And do they steal horses too?" "Oh yes," she whispered, with a shudder. "Then that man who watched us here was one of them, was he not?" cried Denis excitedly. The woman's jaw dropped, and the whiteness in her countenance increased. "You saw that man, and you know!" cried Denis excitedly again. The woman closed her lips and seemed to press them tightly together, as she said in a strange voice: "You will be advised by me, and stay here, where you will be safe. I cannot--I will not--let you go." "Indeed!" said the King fiercely, and the woman started as she realised that her guest had heard her words. "Back into your own place, madam," continued the King. "I allow no one to tamper with my servants." The woman shrank trembling back, for there was that in her guest's manner which she felt she must obey; and with her hands clasped to her breast as if to restrain her emotion, she went slowly into the house, the King watching her, till she turned her head, started on encountering his eyes, and then disappeared. "There, it's plain enough, gentlemen. This woman is in league with a band of the rogues." "I think not, sir," said Denis quickly. "I think she is honest, and her 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?" _ |
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