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

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  FIRST BLOOD.

  Denis was in no trim for running, but he ran.

  "This would wake anyone up," he muttered to himself. "The villain! Thedog! I see it all: he must have given those two fellows drink till theywere helpless, and then led the horses quietly away. Oh, if I had onlybeen ten minutes sooner, instead of sleeping like the untrusty cur Iwas! I never dare face the King now! I'm running now as hard as ever Ican run, not to bring back the horses, but to go right away. I neverdare show my face before him again. Here," he thought, "am I to go onwhining like some foolish girl? I can--I will get there first, in timeto stop him. I never used my sword in earnest yet, but if I can onlyget face to face with that insolent hound I'll make him bleed, or heshall me. Too late! Too late!" he groaned, for the man's head haddisappeared beyond the hedge.

  "There must be some turning yonder, and he has gone; and once out therein the open country he, a man who rides with such horses as ours, itwill be folly ever to expect to see him again."

  The boy ran on, not growing breathless, but nerved as it were to thehighest pitch of excitement, seeing nothing now, but reaching the hedgeat last close by a rough gate, over which he vaulted lightly, to findhimself in a winding green lane, but with nothing in sight to his left,nothing to his right, and no turning visible, and stretching right away.

  "There hasn't been time for him to get to here, for the horses were onlywalking," he argued to himself, and then with sinking heart, "Oh!" heejaculated, half aloud. "Perhaps it was only my mistake. I jumped atthe conclusion that it was the man we saw."

  There was nothing for it but to continue along the lane till he metSaint Simon, and then he felt that they must go back to the inn androuse people to a pursuit.

  He began running at a gentle trot now, to husband his strength for whatmight come, when all at once his heart seemed to give a violent leap andthen stand still; for coming round a bend he caught sight of the black,heavily maned head of the King's horse, and then of the soft, pointedcap of the horse-dealer whom he had credited with the theft.

  He was not looking forward, but bending over to his right, evidentlydoing something to the rein of another horse he was leading--Denis'sown--while, in the middle of the three abreast, he was mounted on SaintSimon's. The three horses were fully in sight some fifty yards away,just as the man sat up again and began to urge them on from their walk,when he suddenly caught sight of Denis in the act of drawing his swordin the middle of the lane to bar his way.

  The effect was to make him pull up short, and then with a cry to thehorses he swung them round and set off back at a canter, to disappearround the bend directly after, with Denis running far in his rear.

  "Now," panted the lad, "if Saint Simon has only done his work we havehim between us." And he tried to utter a prolonged whistle, which hehoped might reach his charger's ear; but he had not breath to give morethan the faintest call.

  "Oh, if I could only run ten times as fast!" he groaned. "I know whathe'll do. He will get them into a gallop, and ride my poor comradedown. If I were only at his side! And I seem to crawl!"

  But he was running pretty fast, though to his misery he heard the dull_thud, thud_ of the cantering horses grow fainter and fainter till itseemed to die right away.

  "Sim's let them pass him," he groaned piteously. "_No_! No! No!" heliterally yelled. "They are coming back! Saint Simon's turned them,and it will be my chance after all."

  For still invisible, after the thudding of the hoofs had quite died out,the sounds came again; then louder, louder, and louder still, comingnearer and nearer, till all at once the noble animals swept into sightagain round the curving lane, galloping excited and snorting, SaintSimon's horse right in the centre being urged forward by the rider,while the other two hung away right and left to the full extent of theirreins. While perfectly unconscious of his peril, thinking of nothingbut checking the headlong gallop, the lad stood with extended bladeright in the middle of the lane.

  It seemed an act of madness. Certainly he was a well-built youth,accustomed to athletic exercises, but as a barrier to three finechargers urged by the rider of the centre one forward at a hand gallop,and armed only with a long thin Andrea Ferrara blade, he seemed but afragile reed to stem the charge. But the unexpected happens more oftenthan the reverse, and it was so here. One minute the horses weretearing along as far apart as the reins would allow; the next theyseemed to have passed over the brave youth, and went galloping down thelane at increasing speed, leaving Denis flat upon his back in the middleof the road and his sword-arm outstretched in a peculiar way above hishead, with the keen blade pointing in the direction taken by the steeds.

  He lay perfectly motionless for some moments as if dead, while thehorses tore on with the rider bending forward over his mount's neck tillthey had gone about a couple of hundred yards, when the man suddenlybegan to sway in his saddle to right, then to left, recovered himself,to sit upright for a few moments, and then with a sudden lurch wentheadlong down, to fall with a thud in the grassy track, roll over onceor twice, and then begin to crawl to the hedge on his left, creeppainfully through a gap, and disappear; while the horse he had riddenstopped short, like the well-trained beast he was, and turned to followhis late rider towards the hedge, snuffling and snorting in alarm.

  The others continued their gallop for some seventy or eighty yardsbefore, missing the guidance and companionship of their fellow, they toostopped short, to utter a low whinnying neigh, which was answered frombehind and drew them trotting back to the halted beast.

  By this time the marauder had disappeared, and the three chargers seemedto hold a consultation, uttering low whinnying neighs, and then, as ifmoved by one impulse, they trotted back slowly to where Denis lay withhis head towards them, apparently dead. As they stopped short theyouth's charger lowered its muzzle to begin to snuff at his face, whenall at once the lad made a sudden movement to jerk back his outstretchedarm into a more natural position, making his bright rapier describe anarc in the air, giving forth a bright flash in the afternoon sunshineand making a whistling sound like the lash of a whip. The consequencewas that all three chargers started violently, to move off for a shortdistance; but as the lad was motionless again they stopped short andbegan to return, led by their companion, which seemed drawn to itsfallen master. But before it could reach him there was the sound offeet, and Saint Simon came panting up to the group.

  "Hah!" he ejaculated breathlessly, as he dropped on one knee by Denis'sside. "Don't say you are hurt, lad! Not wounded, are you? Ah!There's blood upon his sword! Denis, lad, where are you wounded? ForHeaven's sake speak! Oh, my poor brave lad! He's dead--he's dead!"

  The drops that started to his eyes were a brave man's tears, blindinghim for the time being as they fell fast, while he eagerly felt Denis'sbreast and neck, ending by unfastening his doublet and thrusting hishand within to feel for the beatings of his heart.

  Those hot blinding tears fell fast, several of them upon Denis'supturned face, and at the fourth the nerves therein twitched; at thefifth there was a quick motion; and when six and seven fell together thelad's left hand came up suddenly to give an irritable rub where he felta tickling sensation; and he opened his eyes, stared hard and blanklyfor some moments in the countenance so near his own, and exclaimedangrily:

  "What are you doing?"

  "Ah!" ejaculated Saint Simon, with a cry of joy. "Then the horses wereworth winning back, after all."

  "Horses? Winning?" faltered Denis wonderingly; and then as hiscompanion snatched a hand from his breast, he cried again impatiently,"Here, what are you doing to my face?"

  Saint Simon dashed his hand hastily across his own, his already ruddycountenance glowing of a deeper red, as he stammered out confusedly:

  "Drops--perspiration--I have been having such a run."

  "Drops? Run? My head's all of a buzz. Who ran? What have you beendoing to my neck?" continued the lad, passing his left hand across histhroat. "Somethin
g seemed to jerk across me just here. Ah, how ithurts!"

  He made an effort then to raise his sword-arm, but it fell back upon thegrass.

  "Here, my shoulder's bad too," he cried. "Just as if my arm waswrenched out of the socket." Then as his wandering eyes fell upon hishorse, "Oh!" he cried, "I understand now. I have been thrown."

  "Never mind now," cried Saint Simon, in a choking voice, as he masteredthe hysterical emotion that had seized upon him. "You're alive, boy,and we have saved the horses, and our credit with the--with the--"

  "Comte," said Denis faintly. "I am beginning to recollect now. Here,where's that ruffian who was galloping away?"

  "You've killed him, I suppose," cried Saint Simon, "for there's bloodupon your sword. How was it, boy?"

  "I don't know," said Denis dreamily; and then in an excited voice, "Yes,I do!" he cried. "I remember it all now. He came galloping along onthe centre horse, with the others on each side at the full extent oftheir reins. I stood there to stop them, and he came right at me toride me down. But I started a little on one side and thrust at him,when my horse's tight rein caught me right below the chin, and at thesame moment my right arm was jerked upwards, and--that's all. Where ishe now?"

  "Gone," said Saint Simon, "and with your mark upon him too. Why, youbrave old fellow! You, a mere boy! I daren't have faced threegalloping horses like that. But you are not wounded?"

  "My right arm seems to be gone. Is it broken, Sim?"

  The young man began to feel it gently from shoulder to wrist, raised it,and laid it down again, while the boy bore it for a time, flinchinginvoluntarily though again and again, till he could bear no more.

  "Oh!" he groaned at last. "Don't! It's horrible! How you do hurt! Isuppose I shall have no arm. It's horrible, Sim. I wish he had killedme out of hand."

  "What! Why, my dear brave old fellow, it's only a horrible wrench, andwill soon come right."

  "Not broken?" cried the boy wildly.

  "Broken? No, or it wouldn't move like that. Why, Denis, lad, when yougave point you must have run him through, and as he tore on your armmust have been wrenched round while he dragged himself or was carriedaway--of course, as the horses galloped on."

  "But where is he?" cried Denis.

  "I don't know. He wasn't here when I came up. He must have takenflight--I mean, crawled away, for he must have been wounded badly."

  "But the horses are all right?" said Denis faintly.

  "Yes; the brave beasts were as you see them now, standing round you.Ah! Stop a moment. What does this mean?"

  He had been looking from side to side as he spoke, and caught sight ofthe crushed-down herbage which grew densely at the foot of the hedge,nettle and towering dock and hemlock looking as if something had crawledthrough; and, rising quickly, he found somewhat of a gap through which aperson might have passed.

  And he found ruddy traces which made him go on a few paces to where thehedge seemed thinner, so that he could force his way through, to returnon the other side to the gap and see traces again in the grass wheresome one had crawled. This track he followed for a few yards to a spotwhere the long grass was a good deal trampled, and beyond that therewere regular footprints, as if some one had risen and walked lightacross the field.

  "Gone," said Saint Simon to himself; and he hurried back to the lane,where Denis was lying very still with his eyes closed, and the threehorses ready to raise their heads from where they were calmly croppingthe thick herbage and ready to salute him with a friendly whinny beforeresuming their meal.

  "Well, Denis, boy," he cried, "how is it now?"

  "Oh, a bit sick and faint, but I'm better. Have you found that brute?"

  "No; he has gone right away. But we don't want him, unless he comesback to take revenge on you, and then I should like to see you use yoursword again."

  "Oh!" groaned Denis. "With an arm like this! I feel as if I should notlift it again for months."

  "Bah! Nonsense, man--boy, I mean," said Saint Simon, with a laugh."But I say, you must have given it to him somewhere. He was bleedinglike a pig. I followed his track to where he must have sat down on thegrass to bind up his wound. And there he stopped it, to rise and walkoff, making good strides for a dead man. You gave him his pay forhorse-stealing, and I'll be bound to say he feels more sore than you, myhero. Now then, how do you feel about getting up?"

  "I feel sick, and as if I want to lie."

  "But the--ahem!--Comte? He must be awake by now."

  "Ah! I forgot him. Here, give me your hand--Thanks--Ah!--It hurtshorribly--my throat's better--but my arm feels as though it had beenscrewed out of the joint. Would you mind sheathing my sword? I can't."

  "I ought to have done it before," said Saint Simon; "but I say, lad, letgo. Why, your fingers are grasping it with quite a grip."

  "Are they?" said the boy faintly. "I don't feel as if I had any.Everything is hot and numb."

  "Yes, you have had a nasty wrench. But that will soon be right. Wesoldiers don't mind unless we are killed. That's better. Here, let'swipe the blade," and he picked a bunch of grass. "I am not going tosoil my kerchief with the ruffian's blood. That's better," hecontinued, as he returned the long thin blade to its sheath. "I'll giveit a polish for you when we get back to the inn. Now do you think youcould mount?"

  "No, not yet," said the boy. "Give me a little time."

  "Hours, lad; and here, let me arrange your scarf. Stand still. That'sthe way. Over your right shoulder--tied in a knot--now opened outwidely here so that your arm can rest in it, like that. Those aresoldiers' knots for a wounded limb.--That feel easier?"

  "Not much," said Denis. "Yes, that's better. It seems to take theweight, and I'm beginning to feel that I've got one now."

  "Oh, yes, it will soon come round," cried Saint Simon joyfully. "Now,boys, it's time you left off sullying your bits with grass," hecontinued, to the horses, as he unbuckled their reins, so that inleading one he led all three; and offering his right arm to Denis, whogladly took it and leant upon it heavily, he led the way back along thelane to where they had parted, and from thence into the greatstable-yard and through the long stable to where the two hostlers werestill sleeping heavily, not in the slightest degree roused by thetrampling of the chargers upon the stone-paved floor.

  "Now then," said Saint Simon, "shall we tie up the horses here again?"

  "No," cried Denis sharply. "Look--through the door yonder. There's theComte!"