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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 35. Bluff Hal Rages |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. BLUFF HAL RAGES "I don't understand this, Hurst. I don't understand it a bit. One moment I feel that he is no Comte, at another that there may be something in what you say. But just now I can think of nothing but de la Seine not being in his room. Bah! He cannot have taken to flight, thinking that I have discovered who he is; but we must find out that." At this moment the King was passing along the centre of the gallery devoted to the priceless treasures of his collection, to which Carrbroke had so proudly directed the young French visitor's attention, when his foot came suddenly in contact with something which he sent flying along the polished oaken boards, the object making a musical metallic sound. "What's that?" cried the King sharply; and the chamberlain started forward into the gloom close beneath one of the windows, to pick up after a moment's search what proved on being held up to the light to be a beautiful little golden cup covered with such _repousse_ work as would most likely have been placed there by some Italian artist of the Benvenuto Cellini type. A faint cry of wonder escaped the chamberlain's lips. "A golden cup!" exclaimed the King, as he leaned over to gaze at the little object. "How comes that there? Why, Hurst, that little _tazza_ should be in the big cabinet yonder, where the French jewel lies. Quick! Here." The King turned sharply and hurried back to the centre of the gallery where the great cabinet stood, to find it on the two sides he examined perfectly intact; but the other two sides of the big ornamental piece of furniture fell to the chamberlain's examination, and he was so startled by the discovery he made that he remained silent and stood there with his lips compressed. "Nothing here, Hurst," cried the King, in less excited tones. "It must have been my fancy; it cannot be the cup I mean. You see nothing?" "Will your Majesty look here?" said the chamberlain gravely. "Hah!" cried the King, and he joined his follower on the other side, to utter an ejaculation full of the rage he felt, for dim as the gallery was, light enough came through the window opposite to which the cabinet stood to show that one of the doors had been wrenched open; some of the drawers within were half unclosed, while several little objects that had evidently been dropped in haste were upon the floor. "Robbery! Pillage!" cried the King angrily. "They must have been disturbed in their act of plunder, whoever it was, and--and--hah!" he raged out, as he snatched up a case that was lying open. "Look here, Hurst; this tells the tale. Do you know it?" "No, Sire." "You see it is empty." "Yes, Sire." "I could gage my life that within the last hour it held that fateful gem won by the Kings of England, the jewel from the French crown. Now, man, who is the robber? Speak!" "Ah!" half whispered the chamberlain. "Your Majesty is right. This disappearance is accounted for at once. It must have been--" "The Comte de la Seine!" raged out the King. "Stolen not only from my own palace, but out of my own private apartments, where I am supposed to be guarded night and day. Hurst," he continued grimly. "I am afraid some one is going to die on account of this. But the robbers cannot have gone far. They must be somewhere about." "Yes, Sire. There are guards everywhere, and the gates are closed. They must be in the castle still." "Then this be my task," cried the King, "to hunt the cunning schemers down. This way first. There should be two guards at the head of the south staircase--if they are not asleep." In his excitement the King drew his sword and led the way to where the two officers were on duty, ready to challenge and answer frankly that only one person had passed there, and that the young esquire in the Comte de la Seine's suite. "Bah! We are on the wrong track," said the King angrily. "They would not come this way. That boy was probably sent to take the guards' attention while the deed was done. Come back, Hurst; this way. You men arrest anybody who tries to pass you, no matter who it may be. Now, Hurst, quick, for the game is afoot and we must run it down." He hurriedly led the way back along the gallery, past the broken cabinet without giving it a moment's concern, and when nearing the private corridor the King stopped short, to clutch his follower by the breast with his left hand. "Hurst," he whispered hoarsely, the deep tones of his voice betraying the rage burning in his breast--"Hurst, have we been betrayed?" "Surely not, your Majesty. Your people are too loyal for that." "But the French are very cunning, man, and gold, even if it is foreign, will sometimes work its way." "Your Majesty speaks in riddles," said the chamberlain nervously, for his master still clutched him by the breast, and the sword was trembling in his hand as if he were about to use it upon a prisoner he had taken himself. "Riddles!" cried the King. "When we are searching for that vile culprit whom I believed to be still in the place, and who has not passed the guards at either end of these galleries? That boy Carrbroke: he told us that no one had passed by him." "Yes, your Majesty; but still I do not understand your drift." "Man, have you no brains to think? Is there not another way from here?" "Hah!" cried the chamberlain in a hoarse whisper. "The secret passage!" "Yes," said the King, in a low, deep voice. "Some one--if they have not watched and discovered for themselves--must have betrayed its existence, known only to me and you. But maybe it has acted like a trap--the outer door is locked, and a stranger would not be likely to find the key." "Oh," whispered the chamberlain, "it is possible, Sire. I will call the guard." "No," said the King, with an angry hiss in his voice. "You can use your sword, Hurst?" "In your Majesty's service at any time," replied the chamberlain. "And I am not a child with mine," said the King. "Hurst, man, your suspicions are right. This French visitor is no paltry Comte. There is the look of the Valois in his countenance. What if the great object of his visit here was to steal that gem taken from his land by conquest? Hurst, I should like to take this man redhanded myself. We are two, and possibly he is alone, for he would not trust such a task as this to other hands. We heard just now that his page, esquire, or whatever he is, had been sent away." "Yes, Sire. But he will be desperate. Your Majesty's safety must not be risked. I implore you, let me call the guard." "Well, as you will," said the King.--"No, it would only be to reveal that secret place to the common herd. No one shall know it but ourselves. But stop; there is some one close at hand whom I dare trust. Old Sir John Carrbroke's son. He will be trusty as his father was to me, and to my father in his time. Fetch him here." The chamberlain hurried off, while the King followed slowly, sword in hand, till he was opposite to the concealed door, where he stood fast to wait; but an ejaculation uttered by Lord Hurst took him to the latter's side. "Traitor!" cried the King angrily. "No, sleeper." And in his rage he drew back his arm as if to thrust at the youth who was lying upon the heavy couch. "No sleeper, your Majesty," cried the chamberlain, bending over Carrbroke, to raise his eyelids one by one. "Pah!" he ejaculated. "The odour is quite strong. The poor lad has been drugged by some pungent medicament." And then as he drew back his hand he took a kerchief from his pouch to wipe his hands. "The noisome poison is still wet upon his face." "Thank Heaven!" said the King. "It was a mercy I did not strike and slay a faithful soul. Come, then, Hurst; but draw and defend me if there is need. Now then, back to the arras, and let us see." "The passage is all black darkness, Sire," whispered the chamberlain; and the King pointed with his sword to the nearest sconce. "Bring a light," he said laconically. The next minute they were opposite the secret door, which the King unfastened, and was about to raise the arras when the chamberlain pressed forward. "I will go first, your Majesty," he said. "After your King, sir. Yours the task to light me on the way." A word of opposition was upon his follower's lips, but the King stooped hastily, raised the arras well on high, and signed to the chamberlain to hold it up and cast the light into the narrow way he was about to traverse. Then with one heavy thrust he threw open the door, and without a moment's hesitation passed in with his sword advanced, to be followed quickly by the chamberlain, who raised the light above his head, to throw the King's shadow right before him, so that his mock semblance, looking black, solid, and grotesquely dwarfed, moved on in front till it struck against the angle of the wall where the passage turned sharply to the left. Here with sword advanced the chamberlain approached as closely as he could, fully expecting attack from a hiding foe; but the King passed boldly on, with his shadow before him, till the next angle was reached, their footsteps sounding hollow, dull, and strange in the confined space. The King walked onward like one well accustomed to traverse the place, and in another few minutes the great candle his follower bore was casting the dwarf shadow upon the heavy door that blocked the end. "A false clue, Hurst," said the King gruffly. "The secret of this place is still our own.--No, by my faith!" he almost roared. "The light, man--lower--and look here!" For there, plain to see, was the ring of a heavy key in the lock of the massive door, and as the King seized the latch and raised it with a click, the door swung inward easily upon its well-oiled hinges, followed by a puff of the soft night air, which would have extinguished the light had not the King hastily closed the door again. "Gone, and by this way!" he growled, as he turned the key, sending the bolt with a sharp snap into the socket. Then with a sharp tug he drew out the shining wards and signed to his follower to return. Lord Hurst uttered a low sigh of relief, for he felt that the King had escaped a terrible danger, the loss of the jewel being as nothing to his life. He backed slowly, lighting the way, till they were about half-a-dozen yards from the door, when he stopped short and raised the light on a level with a little horizontal niche close to the roof of the passage, into which the King thrust the key. "There has been treachery here, Hurst," he said sombrely, "for a stranger would not be likely to have found that key. Simple hiding-places are often the most safe. But there," he growled, with a suppressed oath; "back into the corridor, but extinguish that light before you raise the arras, and make sure that we are alone." The order was obeyed, the chamberlain cautiously listening, before going down upon one knee to raise the tapestry a few inches from the floor and make sure that Carrbroke was the only occupant of the great gallery, then creeping quickly out, holding the hangings upward for the King to pass, and securing the door. "Now," cried the King furiously, as he brought one foot down with a heavy stamp, "the villains may be still within the grounds. Guard! Guard!" he roared, with a voice almost as deep as that of a raging bull; and as footsteps were almost directly heard, the enraged monarch turned upon his chamberlain and furiously bade him have the soldiery summoned and the place well searched, while many minutes had not elapsed before the alarm bell was sending its vibrating notes with a deep hum through the night air, and room and corridor echoed with the sounds of excited voices and trampling feet. It was in the midst of the orders that were being given by King and courtier that the clashing sound of arms and shouts of angry men came from the gate and guard-room, to be followed by the news of the encounter and the visitors' escape. And then it was as if a storm was raging through the castle, set in agitation by the bluff King, who played the part of thunder god himself, ending by stamping and raging about the outer court animadverting upon the sluggishness of his guards, till the strong body of horsemen who formed his bodyguard of mounted archers stood drawn up, ready, with their arms and armour flashing in the light of scores of flambeaux, waiting for the final order thundered forth at last by the King himself, to spare not their spurs, but ride due south and bring back the culprits alive or dead. _ |
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