Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > King's Esquires: The Jewel of France > This page
The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 13. An Unknown Land |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ 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. _ |
||