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

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

  A VISITOR FOR A PATIENT.

  The time up to the closing of the chamber door had been one of wildexcitement. There was the disguise, and then the scene of preparingFrancis for another flight, his helplessness, and the calm, unresistingway in which he had yielded himself to Leoni's hands.

  Then came the departure, the farewell of Leoni, whom at times he seemedto shrink from with dislike, almost with dread, but only to feel himselfwon back again, attracted by the doctor's manner and his manifest likingfor his young companion.

  Then there was the closing of the door, which seemed to cut the lad offfrom his friends and leave him, as he threw himself wearily into the bedto lie there alone in the darkness, face to face with a horror whichchilled him through and through.

  For in his chivalrous excitement which thrilled him with a feeling thathe was about to do a most gallant thing in the service of his King, heseemed to have no time to think; but now in the silence and gloom ofthat solitary inner room, there was time for thought, time for hisfeelings to be harrowed by the knowledge of what was to come, and as helay there he began to picture to himself how it would all be.

  How soon he knew not, but before long some one would come, miss theKing's attendants, inquiry would be made, and possibly the supposedComte, lying wounded in the bed, would be sharply questioned as to thewhereabouts of his doctor and gentlemen.

  "What shall I do?" thought Denis. "I must keep up the semblance ofbeing the King. I am supposed to be very ill, and I can pretend to beinsensible. That will all gain time if I refuse to speak; and those whocome will never for a moment think that the King's attendants have lefthim helpless here--far less fancy that they have escaped.

  "But have they escaped?" thought the lad; and in his excitement theperspiration broke out upon his brow, as he lay wondering whether theyhad found the private passage unfastened and won their way through tothe gardens, so as to pass unnoticed along the alleys and down to theriver steps and boat.

  "No," he thought. "Impossible. The people here would surely havesecurely fastened up that way, and the King has been captured; and withsuch an enemy as Henry what will be his fate?"

  For some time he gave these thoughts firm harbour, but at last hiscommon sense prevailed. The idea was absurd, he told himself. If thelittle party had been seized while making their escape the whole castlewould have been in an uproar, full of wild excitement, with the hurryingto and fro of steps, especially the heavy tramp and clash of the guards,instead of which all was horribly still, while the candles burning in acouple of sconces were hidden from his sight by the heavy hangings ofthe bed, so that he lay there alone in the deep gloom.

  There were moments when the shadows cast by the lights seemed to takeform and move, making him feel that he could lie there no longer, thathe must spring out of bed to face bravely these weird and shadowy forms,and convince himself that he really was alone, and merely a prey to achildish superstitious dread brought about by the horror of hisposition.

  It was hard to bear, and required a heavy call upon his manliness toforce back these fancies and prepare himself to play his part when thecrucial time came of some one visiting the room and finding that theComte's attendants were no longer there.

  "It is for the King of France!" he muttered, when at last the dread andhorror of his position had culminated in a feverish fit that seemed asif it would end by his springing out of bed, tearing off the mockery ofhis disguise, and hurrying through the outer chamber into the corridorto seek the company of the nearest guards.

  "It means hastening the discovery," he muttered, "but I can bear this nolonger. It is too much."

  He lay panting heavily for some few moments before a reaction came,following quickly upon the one question he asked himself, contained inthat one little word:

  "Why?"

  He began breathing more easily the next moment, for the weak boy hadmastered, and manliness was coming to his aid.

  "Oh," he muttered to himself, "am I to be as cowardly as a girl? It istoo childish. Afraid of shadows, shrinking from lying alone in thedark! Why, I shall fancy next that I shall be afraid to lie here withthe sun shining brightly, through the panes. What difference is therebetween the light and darkness? I can make it black darkness even atnoonday if I close my eyes. I know why it is. I am tired and faint.There is no danger--for me. The danger is to the King. This is only atrick, a masquerade. Sooner or later I shall be found out. But whatthen? I am only a lad, and this King Harry would be a bloodthirstymonster if he had me slain for what is after all only a boyish prank. Ihave nothing to do but lie here quite still, as if a sick man, and verybad. They will find out at last. Well, let them. I am utterly tiredout with all I have gone through. My head is as weary as my bones, andnow all this weak cowardice has gone I am going to do what I should dohere in bed, and go to sleep.

  "Oh, impossible! Impossible!" muttered the lad wearily. "Who couldsleep at such a time as this?"

  He rose upon his elbow and said those words in a hoarse whisper, as ifhe were questioning the shadows that surrounded the great curtained bed.

  There was no reply from the weird and shadowy forms, uncouth, strange,and distorted; but he answered his piteous, despairing question himself.

  "I can," he said, "and--"

  There was a pause of a few moments, and then he muttered between his setteeth:

  "--and I will."

  With a quick movement he drove his clenched fist two or three times intothe great down pillow, making it purl up into a hillock, upon which helaid his cheek, and into which it softly sank, while, closing his eyes,he strove to force himself into a heavy sleep, till his strong effortjoined with his bodily weariness, and he sank into a deep dreamlesstrance.

  How long this lasted he never knew, but all at once he lay wide awakeand wondering, striving to realise where he was, and what the meaning ofthat heavy distant tramp, tramp, as of soldiery coming nearer andnearer, till it ceased outside the farther door in obedience to a hoarsecommand.

  There was another order, followed by a close fusillade-like sound of thebutts of halberds planted upon the floor. Then a few moments' silence,and as the lad strained his eyes in the direction of the doors, thatfarthest was suddenly flung open and the outer chamber was filled withlight which emphasised the gloom of the inner, where, fully alive to hisposition, Denis lay still, closing his eyes and pressing his facefarther into the pillow, as a stern voice shouted as if in warning, forall to hear: "His Majesty the King!"