CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
AND OPENS THE KING'S EYES.
The chamberlain had worthily carried out his master's orders, and thescene in connection with the supper that night was brighter than ever;but the King did not seem satisfied. His heavy face looked gloomy, andFrancis banteringly asked him if he was too much wearied by the huntthat day, receiving a grave nod in reply.
Later on Francis, who was excited and annoyed by the dullness of hishost, made an excuse to leave him and join the dance, but only to findhis progress stayed by Leoni, who led him aside to make somecommunication--one which made his master frown and whisper back angrily.But Leoni spoke again, and Denis, who was near, saw the King make adeprecating gesture with his hands, and then hurry off to enter the_salon_ where the dancing was going on.
Denis stood watching Leoni, who stood looking thoughtfully after hismaster.
"I thought so," said the boy to himself, for as he watched Leoni he sawthe doctor turn slowly and with his peculiar fixed look sweep thewell-filled room till his eye rested upon the young esquire.
The next moment he had raised his finger to his lips, gazing at himfixedly for some moments, before turning and moving towards the door,when Denis heaved a deep sigh and looked round in vain in search ofSaint Simon; but he was nowhere near, and the boy slowly followed Leoni,whom he found waiting for him just outside the door.
Meanwhile Hurst, upon seeing the Comte's departure, drew near to whereHenry sat moody and alone, the various gentlemen in attendance, knowingtheir master's ways, having drawn back a little, to enter into a forcedconversation, waiting for the King's next move.
They had not long to wait, for he suddenly looked round till his eyesrested upon the chamberlain, when he rose, to lay his hand upon hiscounsellor's shoulder and walk out with him towards the now desertedcorridor, into which the strains of music from the ballroom floatedagain and again.
"There, Hurst," he cried, as soon as they were alone, and they pacedtogether slowly towards the end, "what am I to say to you?"
"Sire?"
"If I were not in a good humour I should be disposed to punish you bythe loss of my favour for spoiling what ought to have been a joyousday."
"Sire, I am deeply grieved. You must credit me with anxiety in my dutytowards your Majesty."
"Yes, yes, I do," cried the King impatiently. "But your suspicions havebeen absurd, and have made me behave almost rudely to my brother'sambassador, as noble a gentleman as I ever met. Zounds, man! Is aking's life always to be made bitter by his people's dreams of plots?Your suspicions are all folly. He a prince of France! Absurd!"
The chamberlain walked on in silence, and stopped short where thecorridor opened out into a well-lit chamber whose walls were hung withportraits.
"Well," said the King, "what now?"
"Would your Majesty step here into this alcove?" said the chamberlain,after a quick glance around to see that they were alone.
"What now?" cried the King angrily.
The chamberlain made no reply, but still stepped forward to the far sideof the chamber, where he took a candle from one of the sconces on thewall to hold it up above his head in front of a large full-lengthcanvas, the work of some great master, whose brush had so vividlydelineated the features of his subject that the portrait seemed to gazefixedly down at the King, while a faint smile just flickered upon itslips.
"Does your Majesty know those features?" said the chamberlain. "Who isthat?"
"What!" cried the King, in startled tones. "Philippe de Valois."
"Yes, Sire; and my suspicion grows stronger every hour."
"Hah!" cried the King. "But no: impossible! And yet the same eyes;that same careless, half mocking smile. Hurst, there is something inthis. The features are similar."
"Yes, Sire. It is a strong family resemblance."
"But who could it be, and why should he come here? To play the spy; forit could mean nothing else. What sinister plots and plans can there bebehind all this? But you were thinking. You know something more?"
"I know no more than your Majesty. I only suspect."
"Suspect! Suspicion! I hate the very sounds of the words, and all theblack clouds that hang around them. A family resemblance? Then whocould this man be?"
The chamberlain was silent.
"Man," whispered the King hoarsely, "you are my servant. Don't thwartme now. If you value your place here--more, your life--speak out!"
The chamberlain returned the candle to the sconce, and then said slowly:
"Your servant's life is at your service, Sire. I am not sure, but Itell you honestly that which I believe. This gentleman is wearing adisguise, and comes here under an assumed name, and from my soul Ibelieve he is--"
"Who?" whispered the King, grasping him fiercely by the arm.
"Francis, King of France."
"Hah!" ejaculated the King hoarsely, and with his face taking a fierceexpression mingled with anger, surprise, and triumph. "And what hasbrought him here? If you are right. Hurst--mind, I say, if you areright--But you had never seen this man before, and it may be only aresemblance."
"It may, your Majesty, but--"
"If it is," whispered the King, with his face looking purple in the dimlight, "the fox has come unbidden into the lion's den, and if the lionshould raise his paw, where would be the fox?"
He looked fiercely and meaningly in his follower's eyes.
"France," continued the King, in a hoarse whisper. "France, how much ofthose fair domains won by my predecessors with the sword have beenwrested from the English crown bit by bit--the noble domains over whichthese Valois now rule as usurpers. Hurst, what if the sceptre ofEngland should be held again swaying our ancient lands of France.Supposing, I say, there were no Valois, or he perforce had been calledupon to render back all that had been stolen from our crown. I am theKing, and as my father used his gallant sword to gain one kingdom, whyshould not I by a diplomatic move win back another?"
"Your Majesty is King," said the chamberlain slowly and meaningly.
"Yes," said the King, in a hoarse whisper; "and when I am moved to actmy will is strong."
There was silence for a few moments, and then Henry continued angrily:
"A ruse--a trick, put upon me for some strange scheming of his own, agin, a trap to capture me, but for the setter to be caught himself.Francis, King of France!" he continued hoarsely; and then a peculiarsmile, mocking, bitter, and almost savage, came upon his, lips as hegazed piercingly at his companion.
"No, Hurst," he said meaningly, "I know no King of France. He would notdare to beard me in my own home like this. This man, this mockambassador, this Comte de la Seine, is the only one with whom we have todo--an impostor who shall meet with the trickster's fate."
"But your Majesty--" said the chamberlain eagerly.
"My Majesty, Hurst, is going to work his own will, and as he will."
"But, Sire, you will be just?"
"Yes, Hurst, as I always am. I grant that you may still be wrong, andwe will clear this up."
"Your Majesty is going to--"
"Straight to the ballroom," replied the King, "to see this Comte de laSeine and have the truth."
"Now, Sire?"
"Yes, now at once."
The King turned abruptly, and, closely followed by the chamberlain, madefor the ballroom, where the dancing was in full progress; but the Comtewas not leading one of the brightest ladies of the Court through themazes of gavotte or minuet, and as the King turned angrily to hischamberlain it was to find him in close converse with one of thegentlemen in attendance.
"The Comte made the excuse of a bad headache, Sire, some few minutesback, and retired to his apartments with his suite," whispered Hurst.
"Then I am afraid we shall make it worse," said the King bitterly."This way, Hurst; I must have the truth of this before I sleep." And hestrode from the room, closely followed by his companion, to whom in hisexcitement as he followed the angry lion the movements of the dancers
seemed mocking, and the music sounded strange.
The King's Esquires; Or, The Jewel of France Page 28