The King's Esquires; Or, The Jewel of France

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  A KING AT SEA.

  "Well, boys, we are fairly started," said the King, "but this vesselmoves about a great deal. I hope we are not going to have roughweather."

  "Well, I'm sorry to say, Sire--" began Saint Simon.

  "Ah!" cried the King, in a low angry voice. "Four days since westarted, and I have been giving you lesson after lesson, and you beginat once addressing me like that. Once more, both of you, I am the Comtede la Seine, on my travels, and you, Saint Simon, are my friend, andyou, Denis, my esquire. Now look here, Denis, do I look at all like aking now?"

  "Not in the least, Comte."

  "And now you, Saint Simon; what have you got to say about the weather?"

  "That I have been talking to the shipmaster, and he says the weather isgoing to be very fine--"

  "That's good," cried the King.

  "--but very windy."

  "That's bad," said the King--"for the poor horses," he added hastily."I wish we had had them fastened up below."

  As he spoke he glanced forward at where, a good distance apart, threevery beautiful chargers were doubly haltered to the rail, and whinnyinguneasily and pawing at the deck, and then made an uneasy gesture, for apuff of wind filled out the two big sails of the clumsy vessel and madeit careen, so that the royal passenger made a snatch at a rope which washanging loose and gave to his touch, when he made another snatch andcaught at Saint Simon to save himself from falling.

  "A bad, a clumsy vessel!" he cried angrily. "Here, I'm tired with ourlong two days' ride. I think I'll go into the cabin and lie down. Giveme your arm, Denis." And, steadying himself by the lad, he went below,lay down at once, and dismissed his attendant, who returned on deck, tobe met by Saint Simon.

  The two young men, gazed silently at each other, and with mirth in theireyes.

  "The sea doesn't respect kings," said Saint Simon merrily.

  "Nor anybody else," replied Denis; "so don't let us holloa till we areout of the wood."

  "You mean across the water."

  "Yes," said Denis. "It may be our turn next. I wish we were over inEngland now."

  "What, are you afraid?" cried Saint Simon.

  "Yes--for my poor horse. I'm afraid of his breaking away. Look how heis straining at his halter, and how rough his coat is. It looked likesatin yesterday. If he broke loose what should we do?"

  "Try to tie him up again," said Saint Simon bluntly. "But if one getsloose the others will follow, and then--"

  He stopped short and spread his legs as wide as he could, for the vesselwas beginning to dance in the chopping sea.

  "Well, and what then?" cried Denis.

  "Our wild-goose journey would be at end, for those horses would gooverboard as sure as we stand here."

  "What!" cried Denis excitedly.

  "What I have said. My charger is safe to make a dash for the side, andrise at it; and he'd go over like a skimming bird, and the others wouldfollow at once."

  He had hardly spoken when the skipper of the vessel, a heavy,sun-tanned-looking man in scarlet cap, high boots and petticoat, came upto them.

  "Look here, young masters," he cried, "I don't often take cattle in myboat, and when I do I have them slung down into the hold. My deck isn'ta safe place for beasts, and if those three don't break loose beforelong I'm no shipman."

  "Then what is to be done?" cried Denis hurriedly.

  "If the--" He stopped short, for Saint Simon gave him a sharp jerk withhis elbow and continued his speech.

  "--Comte's horse were to be lost overboard he'd never forgive us."

  "No," said Denis, recovering himself. "Look here, you have plenty ofropes. Call some of your men to help; we must put slip-knots roundabove their hoofs and tie them in different places, so that theycouldn't get away."

  "Yes, that's right," said the skipper. "But won't they kick?"

  "No," replied Denis; "we can manage that if your men will help."

  No time was lost, for the need for doing something grew more and moreevident; and with the young men standing by to calm and caress eachbeautiful steed in turn, running nooses were placed round theirfetlocks, and the ropes' ends slipped through ring-bolt and roundbelaying pin, to be made fast, so that before half an hour had passedthe horses were thoroughly secured, and stood staring-eyed andshivering, ready to burst out into a piteous whinnying if the young menattempted to move away.

  It was a rough passage, growing worse hour after hour till nightfall,and the cares that had come upon them were so onerous that the two youngmen were too busy and excited to feel any qualms themselves. Not onlywere there the horses, but their companion below made no little callupon their attention, and in turn they descended into the rough cabin tosee what they could do. But the second time that Saint Simon approachedthe spot where his suffering sovereign lay he was ordered back.

  "Send Denis," he said. "You go on deck again and mind that nothinghappens to my horse."

  "He's very ill," said Saint Simon, who did not look at all sorry, butmore disposed to laugh, as he joined Denis, who was dividing hisattention among the three horses, and patting each in turn.

  "Then why did you leave him?"

  "Because he wants you. He's ashamed to let me see how bad he is."

  "Is he so very ill then?" said Denis.

  "He thinks he is; but you had better make haste down."

  Denis hurriedly went below, to find that the sea entertained not theslightest respect for the stricken monarch, who uttered a low groan fromtime to time, and grew less king-like in his sufferings.

  "This is very bad, Denis," he said, "and it doesn't seem fair. Why am Iill, and you going about as if we were on dry land?"

  "I wish I could suffer for you, my master," said the lad earnestly.

  "Thank you. That's very good," said the King; "but unfortunately youcan't. Denis, my lad, it takes all the bravery out of a man when he islike this. Do you think the shipmaster would call it cowardly if I wereto send word for him to turn the vessel round and make sail back forHavre de Grace?"

  "I don't think he would notice it, my--Comte," said Denis earnestly;"but I don't think he could do it now."

  "Why?" cried the King.

  "Because the wind is growing stronger, and blowing hard from behind,driving us fast for the other coast; and even if he could turn we shouldnot get back."

  "No," said the King. "But this is very horrible, Denis, my lad.--Arethe horses safe?"

  "Yes, sir, quite."

  "Ah! that's right," moaned the King. "Say sir, not Sire, on your life."

  _Boomp_! _Rush_!

  "What's that?" cried the King, in a startled voice, sitting up, butfalling back with a groan. "Oh, how my head swims! Can you swim,Denis, boy?" he moaned.

  "Yes, sir; but no one could swim in a sea like this."

  _Boomp_! _Crash_! _Rush_!

  "What's that, boy?" groaned the King again. "Why don't you tell me?Didn't I ask before?"

  "It was a big wave, sir, leaping at the vessel's bows, and curling overand rushing along the deck."

  "How dreadful!" said the King. "Why is it so dark? Is it the seaflooding the ship?"

  "No, sir; it is nearly night."

  "Oh yes, I forgot. I think I have been asleep. Are we almost there?"

  "No, sir. It is a long way yet."

  "If I could only go to sleep! Why didn't I let that doctor come?Denis, my boy, if I die, or if we are drowned, or--go up and ask theshipmaster how long it will be before we get across."

  In no wise troubled by the pitching and tossing of the clumsy vessel,Denis climbed on deck; but it was some moments before he could make outwhere the captain stood, and then only by the help of one of the men,who pointed out the dim figure in the semi-darkness lightened by thefoam, standing beside the man at the rudder beam; and then it needed nolittle care to pass along, holding on by the bulwarks, to ask thequestion the lad was sent to bear.

  "How long, my lad?" said the skipper. "Oh, very soon. We ar
e flyingacross to-night. This is the fastest run I can remember to have made."

  "But are we nearly there?"

  "Nearly there! No, not halfway; but if the wind holds on like this weshall be across in time for dinner at noon to-morrow, and perhapsbefore."

  "So long as that?" cried Denis.

  "So soon as that," said the skipper, laughing. "There, I see how it is.You are afraid--"

  "I'm not!" cried Denis sharply.

  "Don't be in such a hurry, my lad. You don't give a man time to speak--about your horses, I was going to say. But they're all right. I haveanother rope passed from neck to neck, and as soon as the poor beastsfelt it it seemed to give them comfort, like being more in company.Don't you be afraid. They're noble animals, but not fit for work likethis. Go and see."

  Denis hurried to where Saint Simon was standing with the horses,drenched with spray, and growing impatient at his task.

  "Oh, there you are!" he cried. "Why didn't you come before?"

  "I couldn't leave him. He sent me up to ask how soon we shall beacross."

  "Well?"

  "The skipper says at noon to-morrow."

  "Not till then?" said Saint Simon.

  "No."

  "Well, I'm glad of it. Serve him right. It will finish this wild-goosechase and send him back quite satisfied, ready to settle down again."

  "I hope so," said Denis. "How wet you are!"

  "Yes, I don't mind now," said Saint Simon. "It was very horrible atfirst, but I can't get any wetter, and that's some comfort after all."

  "I'd stop and keep guard myself so that you could go into shelter," saidDenis; "but I must go down again to tell him what I have learned. Butwhy couldn't you go?"

  "Because he sent you, and he'd be furious perhaps. There, go and tellhim."

  "Yes, I had better go," said the lad thoughtfully; "but--I am sorry toleave you, all the same."

  "Hah! That makes me feel warm," cried Saint Simon--"that and theknowledge that the horses can't get loose. There, go on down. Afterall, he's worse off than we."

  Denis crept along by the bulwarks till he could reach the cabin hatch,lowered himself down to where a vile-odoured lamp was swinging from thecabin ceil, and then, moving slowly, having hard work to keep his feet,he reached the spot where the suffering monarch lay, to find to hisgreat relief that Francis had sunk into a deep sleep, and was breathingheavily, leaving him nothing to do but sit down and watch.