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 37. An Awkward Halt |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. AN AWKWARD HALT Meanwhile the strong medicament administered by Leoni had had its effect, giving the sufferer temporary energy and to some extent restoring the reeling senses, so that by the time the _al fresco_ surgery was at an end, Francis began to speak with a fair amount of coherence. "Who's this?" he said. "You, Leoni? Thanks, man. How cool and fresh the night air feels! Have I been hurt? Yes, I remember. That caitiff dog of an Englishman struck me with his partisan, and I had no time to reach him and pay him back. Thanks, doctor. Yes, I am better now. But on, on, on!" he panted, with a sudden return of the slight delirium from which he had suffered. "An end to all this. Fontainebleau! Can we reach there to-night?" "No, sir," replied Leoni soothingly, as with his hand upon the King's rein he led his horse at a walk. "But we are well on the way for the palace. That's right. That's right. I am weary of this playing Comte, and all it means. But we shall be late, Leoni; we shall be late. They will have laid the hounds upon the boar's track. He will have broken cover, and I shall not be there with my spear." "We will go faster soon, sir," said Leoni encouragingly; but he did not attempt to increase their speed, continuing at a walk and suddenly drawing rein to speak to Denis. "Saint Simon," he said--"I had forgotten him." "Coming on about a hundred yards behind," whispered Denis. "He thinks we are not followed." "Hah!" exclaimed Leoni. "You ride on first. I will follow with the Comte. He will take up all my attention now." "Is he much hurt?" whispered Denis anxiously. "No; an ugly cut to the bone, but nothing to fear. Forward, boy, and keep a sharp look-out for the first road that bears off to the left. That will be the way--anywhere will be right that takes us beyond pursuit." Denis obeyed and rode on, looking vainly for the road he sought, but finding instead several leading in the opposite direction, while at every turning he checked his horse to wait till the rest came up, for their progress was necessarily slow. The night glided drearily on, with the paces of the horses at a slow walk growing monotonous in the extreme; and for some time past the excitement of the flight had been giving place to the first approaches of a drowsiness that was rapidly becoming invincible, when with a faint cry of joy the lad noticed, as he looked off to his right, that the faint soft light was beginning to appear in the east, becoming soon a long, low pearly band which grew broader and broader, while the stars that had brightened for a time when the moon went down began to pale. The patches of woodland back from the road, which had been black and sombre, began to turn grey, leaves grew distinct, and before long high-up in the zenith the sky was flecked with a few tiny clouds of a soft rosy orange which gradually brightened till they glowed like fire, and then died out, leaving nothing but the clear sky, darkened in the west, but growing lighter till the eastern horizon was reached, where, plain to see, were the rapid advances of the coming day. The birds, too, were beginning to make their pipings heard, and all at once, as if wakened by the footsteps of the horses, a lark sprang up, to begin circling round higher and higher, carolling its joyous song, and with it raising the spirits of the young esquire, as he felt that they were free once more, and at all events taking the first steps homeward and backward to the sea, which still lay between him and the rest and peace for which he longed. It was horrible, he felt, that the King should have been injured in this ill-starred expedition; but now it was to be at an end, and as the lad thought this in the dewy freshness and cool air of the hour before sunrise, he began to enjoy the beauty of the pleasant woodland country through which their horses paced. But he looked back from time to time, to see Francis more upright in his saddle, with Leoni riding knee to knee, and Saint Simon grave and silent fifty yards behind. Still they passed nothing but some foot-track or rugged lane--nothing in the way of a high-road--and the lad was about to draw rein at last to seek counsel as to their further proceedings, when at a turn of the lane he caught sight of a spreading clump of trees and what seemed to be a village green, about which clustered a few humble cottages, and an inn whose sign projected from a tree trunk that overhung the road. Denis checked his horse now and waited till the others closed up. "Shall I see if the people are awake," said the lad, "and ask them of our way?" "No," replied Leoni coldly. "Ask nothing; but go and summon the people. Ah, there is some one stirring there! Look--coming out from the door. Ride on and tell him we want rest and refreshment--a chamber, too, for a gentleman who has had a fall from his horse. Denis, boy, we are in a perilous strait. I dare not let the King go further until he has had some hours of rest and sleep." _ |
||