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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 15. The Friend In Need |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE FRIEND IN NEED They must have gone a mile at full gallop before the King cried "Halt!" As the beat of their horses' hoofs ceased he sat with raised hand as if commanding silence, listening; but the heavy breathing of the four steeds was the only sound that broke the silence of the glorious night. "Forward slowly now," said the King quietly. "The danger is past for the moment, and we shall have good warning if they come on again, for it is not likely that they have thrown out a second detachment to take us if we escaped the first. Now, just one word--who is hurt? Denis, my brave lad, how is it with you?" "You took too much care of me, my lord. I am only hot." "Well done!" cried the King. "And you, Saint Simon?" "A bit battered with blows, sir," replied the young man; "and I expect when the day dawns I can show some rags." "No wounds?" cried the King. "Not a scratch, sir." "But what of you, sir?" cried Denis eagerly, "I am afraid you must have suffered badly." "I have," said the King shortly. "I feel as if my beauty is spoiled by a blow one ruffian struck at my face. But he was the one who suffered," he added, with a low hiss suggestive of satisfaction. "But no more selfishness. Though I have left him to the last, it is not that I do not want to thank our gallant English preserver, who has given us the best of proofs that he is ready to welcome strangers to his shores. I don't know by what means you knew, sir, of our peril, or why you should think it worth your while to play the brave knight, and fight against such odds to rescue us from the spoilers, and perhaps from death. Pray give me your name, sir, that we three strangers may bury it deeply in our hearts as one of the most gallant islanders we shall ever meet." "My name, your Majesty?" said the stranger quietly. "What!" cried the King. "You know who I am?" "As well as your Majesty knows his faithful servant," came now in familiar tones. "Master Leoni!" cried all three, in a breath, the King's voice sounding loudest of all. "Yes, Sire," said the owner of the name quietly, as if there were no such thing as excitement left in his composition, and instead of being a fighting man he was the most peaceable of souls. "Your Majesty, in the fullness of your confidence, thought you would not need your follower's services, but I feared that you would, and hence I came. You see, you did." "But how--and mounted! How came you here? You bade us farewell at Fontainebleau a week ago." "Yes, Sire; a week gave me plenty of time, as you travelled slowly, to get to the port two days earlier than you. I have been well before you all the time." "Then that paper!" cried Denis excitedly. "It was you who placed that beneath the King's trencher at the inn?" "I did, Master Denis," said Leoni quietly, "and I think the warning was needed. It would have been safer if his Majesty had taken it to heart, though I feared in his reckless bravery he would laugh at my warning, and so I kept watch and came on in advance." "Then you knew that the road was haunted by folk like these?" said the King. "Yes, Sire; I found that in a forest not far from here they have a gathering place, and are always on the look-out for rich travellers on the way to London. They have spies at the port and at the principal towns to give them warning, and I wonder that you escaped so far without the loss of your horses." "Humph!" ejaculated the King sourly. "We should have lost them but for the brave action of young Denis here; but look you, Master Leoni," he continued sternly, "I gave you my commands to keep watch and ward over my goods and chattels at my palace of Fontainebleau until my return." "Your Majesty did," said Leoni humbly. "And disobedience to my commands is treason, sir, and the punishment of that is death." "Yes, Sire; but your royal life is the greatest of your possessions, and I felt that might be in danger. You gave me a free hand to do what was best in your service, and even if I have offended I deemed it my duty to save my sovereign's life even at the cost of my own. Your Majesty, I have no further defence to make." "Hah!" said the King. "He has disarmed me, boys, and I as his master almost feel that I cannot order him to execution for such a crime as this. What say you, Denis, lad?" "I say, sir," said the boy, laughing softly, "that this is England, sir, and that you are not King, but my Lord the Comte de la Seine, who has no power to inflict such a punishment as this." "Hah!" said the King, chuckling. "And you, silent Wisehead Saint Simon, what is your judgement?" "Oh, sir, I think Denis is quite right; but I should like to add one thing." "Hah!" cried the King. "This fight has made you find your tongue, my lad. Now then, let's have what you think about Master Leoni's offence." "I think, sir, that we had better get on a little faster, for I don't want another fight to-night." "Neither do I," said the King, laughing softly, "for I am sore all over, and I should be miserable if it were not for the thought that this ruffian gang must have suffered far more than we. Why, Master Leoni, the point of your sword I could well believe must have been everywhere at once." "A trick of fence, sir, merely a trick of fence," said Leoni quietly. "Your lordship knows how for years I have studied every Italian trick, and it comes easy and useful at a time like this." "My faith, yes!" said the King, drawing a deep breath. "There, Master Leoni, I must forgive you this time; but don't offend again. Now then, before we drop into a canter, I believe you know the English roads by heart: can you act as our guide to-night?" "I have studied them a little, sir, and been along here three times before." "Then you can take us to a place of safety?" "Yes, sir, I can; and you will pardon me when I tell you that four days ago I sent forward a trusty messenger to an old town some ten miles from here where there is a fine old manor-house, the home of a studious English nobleman of whom I asked for hospitality for the noble Comte de la Seine should he by any possibility on his journey to the English Court appeal to him on his way. I and Sir John Carrbroke have often corresponded upon matters of scientific lore, and you will be made welcome as my patron, you may be sure." "Hah!" cried the King. "There seems to be no end to you, Leoni. You know everything, and are always ready at a pinch. Well, I must let you serve me this time, but to-morrow morning, mind, I shall be sore and stiff, and savage as a Compiegne wild boar, so you had better keep beyond the reach of my tusks when I order you back to France." "I take your warning, sir," said Master Leoni, rising in his stirrups and placing his hand to his ear. "Hah!" cried the King. "Are they coming on again?" "No, sir; all is quiet, but we have many good English miles to ride, and it would be wise to keep our horses at a steady pace to get well beyond the outlaws' grasp, for you do not want to reach my old friend's manor and rouse his people up with a following of outlaws at our heels." "There, I give up," said the King, "and I must give you your due, Leoni. You are the wisest man I know, and I am afraid that you possess a very ungrateful master. Forward, gentlemen, and let's get there, for I am beginning to grow boar-like and to long to stretch my sore and weary limbs in a good bed, if I can, or merely on a heap of straw. Here, Leoni, I suppose you have not brought any of that healing salve with which you have treated me more than once when I came to misfortune in the hunt?" "By rights, sir, I am a _chirurgien_, or leech," said Leoni gravely. "On my travels a few simples and my little case are things I never leave behind." These were almost the last words spoken during the ten-mile ride, the latter part being intensely silent, until Leoni drew rein upon the slope of a wooded hill and pointed across a little valley, where a silver streamlet flashed before their eyes, to the gables of a long low English manor-house whose diamond-shaped casements glittered like the facets of so many gems in a setting of ivy, full in the light of the unclouded moon. _ |
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