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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. Denis Is Sleepy |
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_ 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." _ |
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