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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 45. The Balas Ruby |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. THE BALAS RUBY "Who's this?" cried Francis sharply, and in a much firmer voice. "Hah! You, Leoni?" "I, M. le Comte." "Bah! The Comte! But what is it? Have I been asleep and dreaming? Where are we? What are we doing here?" "Making for Fontainebleau, sir." "Yes, Fontainebleau!" cried the King eagerly. "But like this--in a boat?" "Yes, sir--" began Leoni. "Say Sire, man! I have done with this masquerading folly. Speak out plainly. That mummery is at an end. Why are we in this boat?" "Escaping from King Henry's vengeance, Sire." "Hah!" cried the King. "I do not understand. Yes, I remember now. It all comes back. There was some question of that--oh yes, I remember-- the fit of madness. But was I not wounded?" "Yes, Sire; but your injury is healing fast." "To be sure. I feel better, after long weeks of horrid dreams. Well, that is all over. It was while escaping. But tell me--I am growing confused again--what mean you? That we are escaping now?" "Yes, Sire; soon to be in safety and on your way to your own great land." "Ah!" cried the King, in a tone full of satisfaction. "That is good. I would that I had never left it upon this quest. But how dark it is getting!" "Yes, Sire; but it will soon be lighter," said Leoni quietly. "Make it lighter in my dark brain, man, if you have it in your power," cried the King impetuously; "for one moment I see clearly; the next, I am confused again. Yes--that is what I wanted to think of. Is Saint Simon there? But where is my young esquire? On your life, man, don't tell me he is dead!--Hah! Is that the truth?" "No, Sire," said Leoni sadly. "I pray that he may be alive and well." "May be alive! What do you mean, man?" "That it was his and our duty, Sire, to save you from King Henry's anger. You were his prisoner, and at all costs had to be saved." "Yes, yes; I had to escape. I have a dream-like memory of something of the kind, though it is all confused." "Yes, Sire; from your wound." "Hah!" cried the King. "But what is that to do with young Denis? Was he cut down too?" "No, Sire; quite uninjured when we saw him last." "When you saw him last? Then where is he now?" "A prisoner at the castle, Sire. The brave lad volunteered to take your place while we endeavoured to save our King." "To take my place! Do you mean to say, then, that he personated me?" "Yes, Sire; to lie as if wounded on your bed." "He did that?" cried the King; and Leoni slowly bent his head. "Then he has the making of a king within his breast. Brave boy!" cried Francis; and he was silent for a few moments, while bending over the side of the boat he scooped up the clear cold water in his hand and drank again and again. "Hah!" he cried. "That gives me power to think. Did I understand you aright that I am escaping and have left that boy to bear the brunt of my folly, to suffer for my madness imprisonment and maybe death?" The doctor bent his head. "Leoni," cried the King passionately, "is this acting like a king?" "Sire, it is not for you to ask, nor yet for you to judge of this. Your brave young esquire felt it to be his task, and he volunteered to play his part, as either of us would have done. It was to save your life, your servant's duty at a time like that." "And you tell me that it is my duty as a king to sacrifice that boy just entering the dawn of his young manhood so that I might live?" "Yes, Sire; for your subjects' sake." "I am the King, and judge of this. A thousand times no! It shall not be." "Sire, it must. What is one young life compared with yours?" "Everything," cried the King, "if I am to live in peace." "But, your Majesty, it is too late to think of that." "Never too late while there is life," cried the King. "Loose the boat and take those oars." "What would your Majesty do?" cried Leoni. "Go back to Henry and meet him face to face. Let him work his will on me if he dares. But he shall not injure a hair of that brave boy's head. Bah! He would not have dared." "You are mistaken, Sire." "In what?" "In King Henry's intentions. He meant your death." "What! In cold blood to slay a brother king?" "Not a brother king, Sire, but the Comte de la Seine, who had entered his Court in disguise." "Impossible, Leoni! I repeat, he would not dare." "Sire, your death warrant was made out." "What!" "I saw it, Sire, in Lord Hurst's hands; and he told me indirectly what was to take place." "Leoni!" cried the King. "Those are the simple words of truth, Sire. That death warrant, signed by the King's own hand, was the mainspring of my action. Was I not justified in doing anything to save your life?" The King was silent. "Leoni!" he exclaimed at length. "I am faint with hunger. Is there no place near where we can get food?" "There is a farm we passed a little lower down, Sire," replied Leoni; "but we dared not stay for fear the pursuers might be searching either bank." "Let them search and find if they will," cried the King. "I must have refreshment before I do more." "Your Majesty wishes us to row there and take our chance of being discovered?" "Yes," said the King, "and at once. But stay. You are certain that the Count's death warrant was signed?" "Yes, Sire; sure." "Bah! If I declared myself there would be an end to that?" "No, Sire." "What!" cried the King. "Henry doubtless has his ends and would gladly have you dead. If you declared yourself now he would laugh you to scorn and call you impostor, cheat." "Hah!" cried the King, grinding his teeth. "Let him if he dare! But I will not believe it of him, going as I shall now, for nothing shall stay me from hurrying back to save that poor lad's life." "But, your Majesty, let me implore you!" cried Leoni. "Implore, then, but you will find me deaf." "For your own sake, Sire!" "It is for my sake I go--mine honour as a king." "For the sake of your servants, then, who have risked so much!" "I cannot! I will not," he cried. "I will go." "For the sake of France, the country you so dearly love!" "It is for the sake of France I go, to prove myself worthy the name of her King. You urge me to perform a dastardly act in fleeing at a time like this." "Remember, Sire, the reason why you came." "I do," said the King, standing up proudly in the boat, as the edge of the moon began to lift above the low mist that lay upon the river and adjacent meads, lighting up the King's face, animated now into stern beauty by the spirit within which spoke, "and think of it with shame. Listening to your words, I blinded myself into the belief that it was right, that it was a brave and a gallant act to wrest that Crown jewel from King Henry's hand; but I see more clearly now that my mad enterprise has met with its merited fate, and go back I will as a chivalrous knight, ask my brother King's forgiveness, and save that brave boy from his cruel fate." "But, Sire, remember! Remember Fontainebleau and France." "I do; and I remember too that your plot has failed." "But it has not failed, Sire," cried Leoni, rising now; and as he stood erect there was a look of triumph in his face which gave him, as it were, a reflection of the kingly majesty before which he stood. "It has not failed, but ended in triumph and success." "What!" cried the King fiercely. "You speak in riddles. Tell me what you mean." He seemed to tower over his follower, who, apparently humbled, crouched before him with lowered head and outstretched deprecating hands, with which he covered his face as if asking mercy. But the next moment he sprang up once more, just as the King angrily repeated himself: "Not failed!" he cried. "Tell me what you mean?" For answer Leoni threw back his head and held one hand on high full in the light of the moon, which flashed and scintillated from the many facets of a brilliant gem. "Hah!" cried the King excitedly. "What have you there?" "That which we came to seek, Sire. The Balas ruby--the fateful gem of France!" _ |
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