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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. The King's Horses And Men |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. THE KING'S HORSES AND MEN The landlord of the little inn welcomed his visitors eagerly, for he had never before had guests of such degree, and when not observed he gazed open-eyed at their rich habiliments, for there had been no time to don their travelling garments. Everything had been made to give way to the opportune moment for securing the jewel and making their escape. All the host studied was about how many gold pieces he would be able to charge this noble gentleman who had had so unfortunate an accident through his horse stumbling upon the ill-kept road, while he and his wife did everything they could in their attentions, in the hope that their visitors might prolong their stay. Leoni bit his nails to the quick as he paced up and down, watching the road from the King's humble chamber, expecting every minute to see a mounted guard coming to arrest them, and in spite of his longing to be upon the road he dared not suggest such a thing to the King in his intervals of consciousness, when he questioned about his state and where they were, for his hurt was too serious for any risk to be run. So Leoni tended his wounded sovereign night and day, while, quite as impatiently as he, Denis and Saint Simon tried to while away the time by giving extra attention to the horses, and feeding them up ready for a severe test of their powers when they once more continued their flight. They too watched the road each way without attempting to leave the inn, lest troubles should arise and they not be there. It was late in the afternoon of the fourth day, and the impatience and anxiety of the King's followers had grown unbearable; but they had this consolation, that the wound was doing well, and that though weak Francis was conscious and ready to talk as much as Leoni would permit about Fontainebleau and the journey home. But he always avoided making any mention of the jewel, or of his dissatisfaction at having attempted so wild an escapade. It was, then, late in the afternoon of this fourth day, when after Francis had had a light meal he sank into a profound and restful sleep, thanks to Leoni's dressing of the wound; and as soon as his attendant had satisfied himself that the sleep was deep, he went down to the shabby little room occupied by Denis and Saint Simon, who sat dolefully comparing their quarters with those they had so lately left. "He is better, then?" cried Denis, springing up as Leoni entered; and then he looked wonderingly at Leoni, who stood perfectly still, rapt of manner and silent, gazing fixedly at him with that expressionless stony eye, while with the other he seemed to be looking Saint Simon through and through. "Yes," said the doctor at last, as if dragging himself back from where his thoughts had wandered away; "better--much." "He is ready to start, then?" said Denis eagerly. "No, nor near it. We are quite lost sight of here in this lonely place. I think we can do so with safety, so we will stay another night. I dare not risk another breakdown on the road." "Oh," ejaculated Denis, "you surely do not advise that we should keep his--the Comte in this squalid place another night?" "Not from choice, boy, but from necessity. Another such a night as he has just had, and he may be fit to start. To leave to-day would aggravate his wound." "Oh," cried Denis impatiently, "while at any moment Henry's people may have obtained a clue and surround this place!" "We are playing for high stakes, boy," said Leoni gravely, "and we must take all risks." The King did not awaken until late in the evening, seeming so much rested and clear that Denis's heart leaped with excitement, for he began to speak calmly, declaring that he was ready to start. "No, sir," said Leoni. "Believe me, not yet. Let us see what to-morrow brings." And he reached out his hand to take his master by the wrist; but with an impatient "Pish!" Francis snatched his hand away and sprang to his feet. "Absurd!" he cried. "I am quite fit to start, for the pain has left my wound. It would do me more harm to stop fretting here. Order the--" He said no more, but made a snatch at the wall and would have reeled and fallen had not Saint Simon acted as the sturdy buttress he was, and lowered him easily into a chair. "That giddiness again," cried the King, with a sigh. "The doctor is right. Early to-morrow morning, then, gentlemen," he said, with a peculiar smile. "Leoni is king now, and reigns in our stead. I like not his palace, but we shall be safe here." The evening passed on. Leoni was with the King in his chamber, and Denis and Saint Simon were seated gloomily together in their humble room, and the latter was from time to time sipping and making wry faces over a stoup of the bitterest, sourest, harshest cider that was ever drawn from tub, when there was the loud clattering of horses upon the road coming at a sharp trot; and as the young men sprang to their feet a loud command was heard, which was followed by the stamping and shuffling of hoofs as a troop of horsemen drew rein shortly in front of the little inn. "Caught!" said Saint Simon abruptly, and his hand sought the hilt of his sword, while Denis followed his example, just as the door was thrown open and Leoni rushed in. "The King's guards," he cried, "and resistance will be in vain. Gentlemen, I am ready to give my life, as you are yours; but even if we die for our master's sake, what then? We should only leave him a prisoner in Henry's hands, to bear the brunt of his trouble all alone." "You mean that we must surrender?" cried Denis angrily. "Yes," said Leoni, looking at him fixedly, and with a smile upon his lips, "and I give you good counsel. It must be so. Hah!" he whispered harshly, as he caught the boy by the breast. "Hark!" He loosed his hold, stepped lightly as a cat to the window, and peered through a tiny opening in the partly fastened window-shutter, to make out dimly a little crowd of horses and men in the cloudy night. But his ears made up for the want of penetration of his eyes, for just then a sharp order rang out and the horses, which had been taking their turns to lower their muzzles to the water in the long trough in front of the inn, raised them, dripping, and a couple of minutes later the troop was in motion again, with the hoofs of the chargers rattling and gradually dying out upon the road. Denis was in the act of drawing a long deep breath of relief, hardly believing that they had escaped, when their host appeared at the door. "The King's men, gentlemen," he said, "from Windsor; but it was only to give their horses water," he added sadly. "They would not come in to drink, and I expect," he continued dolefully, "when I go to look I shall find the trough empty, and an hour's work before me to fill it from the well. But they are the King's men, gentlemen; any other travellers would have paid, as you do, gentlemen, generously and well." "Let me pay, then, for this," cried Denis, light-hearted as he was at the thoughts of their escape, and he slipped a broad piece of silver into the man's hand, sending him on his way rejoicing. That night Denis dropped into a deep but at the same time a thoroughly uneasy sleep, in which at times it seemed to him that he was being pursued, at others that he was the pursuer, while people were constantly getting into his way, shouting out lustily, "You cannot pass!" He was in terrible anxiety too about his master, who was just ahead, urging on his horse, not apparently along an ordinary respectable country road, but through what seemed to be absolutely interminable galleries of a palace. He wanted to tell him to turn either to the right or to the left, and by that means escape from what appeared to be a labyrinth; but unluckily he could not get his horse abreast of that of his master, and the wind was blowing so hard that his voice would not carry. He was just about to shout "France! France!" when he woke up, with the perspiration standing on his brow and the conviction full upon him as he reached for his cloak and sword that real danger did threaten his lord, when Leoni seized his arm. "Come, boy," he said, and he led him into the room where Francis and Saint Simon were talking. And then sounds below caught the boy's ear, the trampling of horses and the _burr, burr_, of deep-toned voices, one of which said angrily: "We had traces of the fugitives up to this place. Did they come here?" "No," was the landlord's prompt reply. "Well, we must remain here for the night." "But, sir, I have no room in my poor inn for such a company as yours." "What you have will serve," was the response, and the speaker entered the inn, striding past the host. Francis heard these last words. "We must come to a great resolution, gentlemen," he said calmly. "We must separate. Singly you may get through. You will leave me here as I am ill. I will follow as best I can. Go." "Never, Sire," said Leoni, and his one word had two echoes in the little room. "But--" began Francis, and he stopped, for there was a noise on the stairs, and the landlord was heard exclaiming: "I assure you, sir, that the room is not fit--" "Well, there is a light in it anyway." "It is empty, sir." "I see a light under the door." "But my guests cannot be disturbed." "You said that the room was empty just now. Peste! Your word seems doubtful. I will see for myself." The landlord was silent. "Stand out of the way, old man, and let me pass, if you value your head." The door was pushed roughly open, and the Captain of the Guard strode in. "Found!" he cried. "I shall save my credit at Court.--Gentlemen," he went on, with the utmost courtesy and bowing low, "his Majesty the King, disappointed with your abrupt leave-taking, has commanded me to escort you back to his palace." "It is impossible," cried Leoni sternly. "The Count was seriously wounded as we left the gates. You see for yourself. He is faint and weak." "I am very sorry, sir," replied the captain sternly, "but I have his Majesty's orders." "But not to brutally slay the King's guest. I am a _chirurgien_, and you may take my word." The captain took a candle in his hand and held it over the rough pallet where Francis lay, and satisfied himself that Leoni's words were true. "Is the injury bad?" he said quietly. "Bad, but not dangerous if he is left undisturbed." "And if I consent to defer our departure till the morning, what then?" "I cannot say for certain, sir," replied Leoni, "but I think it may be possible, with care." "Very well," said the captain; "but I give you warning, gentlemen, that any attempt at an escape--" "Bah!" ejaculated Leoni contemptuously. "Are we likely to leave our master?" "Perhaps not," said the captain, with a bluff laugh, "but you might try to take him." "In a litter?" said Leoni mockingly. "There, we must not bandy words, sir," said the captain. "It is my duty to tell you that an attempt at escape may be at the cost of some of your lives. We will stay here the night. But now, gentlemen, I have one unpleasant duty to perform." "Our swords!" cried Denis hotly. "No, sir," said the captain, with a smile. "His Majesty would not desire that I should call upon you to suffer that indignity. My instructions were that in your hasty departure the other night one of you took by mistake something--papers, documents, I don't know exactly what--but something to which his Majesty attaches great importance." "I hardly understand you," said Leoni coolly. "Perhaps one of your friends does, sir," continued the captain. "Of course it was taken by mistake." "This means, I presume, that you consider yourself bound to search us?" The captain bowed. "Pray do so, then, but incommode my patient as little as you can. You have an easy task, sir, for our valises were left behind." As Leoni said, it was an easy task, for all offered themselves freely to the officer's inspection, and soon after the latter signified that he was satisfied, and was about to leave the room. But as he reached the door he stopped short and turned to Leoni. "One moment, sir," he said. "Can you and will you answer for the Comte here, who seems to be insensible to what is going on?" "He is," said Leoni, "from the effects of his wound." "Then will you speak for him? And you, gentlemen, will you all give me your word that you are not bearing off any paper or despatch belonging to his Majesty?" "Certainly," replied Leoni, "and my friends will too. We have neither paper nor despatch belonging to your King." The captain bowed, and left the room, to set a couple of his men as sentries at the chamber door; and as the occupants of the humble room stood listening to the King's heavy breathing, for he had fallen into a deep sleep, they heard the tramp of footsteps outside, sounds which made Leoni glide on tiptoe to the window and cautiously look out. "Prisoners indeed," he said softly, with a bitter smile, as he returned; and as in the dim light of the two candles burning on the table Denis met the doctor's eyes with a stern reproachful look, he shuddered slightly, for they looked to him more strange and fixed than ever, having so strange an effect upon him that he could not put his reproach into words. "Well," said Leoni lightly, "calmness is the best remedy for a trouble. Gentlemen, I will watch by our master's side; you are young, and had better go back to your chambers and try to sleep. Of course it would be madness to attempt to escape." _ |
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