CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.
FRANCIS IS A KING.
To have seen King Henry seated at his supper in that eventful year, andon one particular night, it would have been impossible to suppose thatnot many hours before he had been indulging in so fierce a storm ofpassion, such kingly rage, that not one of his most trusted courtiersand counsellors had dared approach for fear of consequences that mightensue.
It was the lion's feeding time, and the food had evidently been good andsatisfying. The music too in the minstrels' gallery had been sweet andpleasant to the ear. The Court jester had for a wonder excelled himselfin his strong endeavours to put the King in a good humour, and utteredno less than three samples of his wit which had made the King roar,inasmuch as in the tail of each joke there was a slightly poisoned stingwhich had gone home to the three noblemen for whom they were intended,my Lord Hurst, the King's chamberlain, getting the worst dose.
There had been a good deal of whispered wonder running through the greatdining chamber, especially below the salt, where the King's gentlemenwere seated who had for long been disappointed at the absence of royalfavour and promotion they had been hoping for since they came to offertheir services at Court; and though all who were well within the scan ofhis Majesty's eyes spoke softly and with a stereotyped Court smile upontheir countenances, they said more bitter things by far than any thathad been uttered by the King's jester, their remarks being dipped inenvy, as they asked one another whether this French boy to whom the Kingwas showing such favour--this French _champignon_, "impudent youngupstart"--was to be the new favourite now, and one and all said tothemselves that which was too dangerous to confide to another, that theKing must have gone a little mad over the fit he had on discovering theloss of his favourite jewel, which had been carried off--so rumoursaid--by the so-called French Ambassador. This, joined to the secondescape, must have turned the royal brain; otherwise he would never havedisplayed such sudden favour to one who had played so daring a prank asthe impersonation of the wounded man.
But all the same this great favour had been shown, and there was theyoung upstart of an esquire seated on the King's left, where all throughthe evening he had been the recipient of the greater part of the royalconversation, responding in French, with a little English which made theKing roar, and encouraged him to continue his rather lame efforts atEnglish conversation with an accent that could be called nothing betterthan vile.
The evening had passed away, and, wearied out at last, the King himselfhad relieved his feelings with more than one unroyal yawn--signals theseof the time approaching when the gentlemen of the bedchamber would haveto be in attendance, and another of the Court days be at an end.
Henry was about to rise, when the chamberlain came quickly behind hischair and whispered something close to his ear, looking hard at Denis ashe spoke.
So meaning was his glance that the boy, who in spite of the royal favourhad been on pins all the time, took fright at once, ready as he was toassociate everything informal as being in some way connected with thosewho had escaped. The next moment the lad's hands had turned cold anddamp, while a giddy sensation attacked his brain, for the King hadsuddenly exclaimed:
"Hah! The Captain of the Guard with his reports?"
"Yes, Sire. I have told him to wait at the door of your privatecabinet. Will you receive him there?"
"No," cried the King bluffly. "Bring him in here, and see that he has acup of wine.--Now, my young masquerader," he cried banteringly to Denis,"there's news for you. Scores of my guards have been scouring theriverside, and they have come to announce that the prisoners have beensecured, for our sick friend the Comte was certain to break down beforehe had gone far. Well, why do you look like that?" he continued, as henoticed the change in the young esquire's face. "There, there: I am notso savage as they say, and whatever happens it is nothing to you, boy,for somehow--there, never mind. Here comes my friend the captain."
For there was the heavy tramp of feet, and the stalwart Captain of theGuard, in half armour, huge buff boots, and pointed morion set well backupon his head, strode up to the King's table, dusty and travel-stained,to sink upon one knee, the plates of his armour grinding together with astrange sound as he went down--a sound repeated as the King signed tohim to rise.
"Well, captain," cried the King bluffly, "what have you to report? Youhave captured the French pigeons which escaped their cage, and broughtthem back with all that they took away?"
"No, Sire," said the captain shortly.
"What!" roared the King, in a voice of thunder; and there was utterstillness in the great chamber as, in no wise abashed, the captain wenton:
"Six companies of horse, Sire, have searched every road and everyvillage on the way towards London, and six more companies have harriedevery place on both sides the river from here to--"
"Bah!" roared the King. "Out of my sight! Go!"
The captain saluted, and began to walk backwards, the rowels of hisspurs clinking, while his armour crackled loudly as he made his way; butbefore he was half the distance towards the door he was brought up shortby the royal thunder which exploded with one sharp crack about his ears.
"Stop! At eight to-morrow let the outer court be filled with my archersof the guard and my horses ready. I will take up this quest myself."
He rose to go, as the captain again saluted, and there was a sharprustling of garments throughout the great chamber as the courtiers whohad been present at the supper rose, when to the surprise of all thegreat door was once more thrown open, and one of the Court functionariesstepped quickly forward and in a loud clear voice announced:
"His Majesty the King of France."
There was a peculiar thrill running through the great chamber, and thena heavy bang as Henry in his astonishment gave vent to his feelings in atruly English way, for he brought down his clenched fist upon the tablewith a thud which made the silver flagons leap, and one, the tallest onthe table, thin and weak with age, missed its footing and came down uponits side, seeming to bleed the rich red wine in a little pool.
The next moment, with bandaged head erect and flashing eyes, Francisappeared in the doorway, resting upon Leoni's arm, Saint Simon slightlybehind on the other side ready to support his master should he want hishelp.
But none was needed. Francis stood for a few moments gazing towards theupper table where the King was standing, and his quick clear glance tookin the position in a moment, for he had seen Denis standing a little toHenry's left.
Then with a quick movement Francis thrust back Leoni's arm and walkedproudly up towards Henry's chair bowing slightly once to right and leftas he swept with disdainful eye the now silent throng.
Then, to use the good old grandmotherly term, a pin might have beenheard to drop, as Francis pressed forward till close up to where Henrystood, and before the English monarch could recover from his surprisehis visitor had laid his hands lightly upon his shoulders and kissed hischeeks.
It was all done in the most courtly way, and only as one of the grandestgentlemen in Europe could at such a time have given the salute, whileits reception was as marked and English as it was the reverse offriendly. For the King was so utterly taken aback by this change in thestate of affairs that for a few moments he could not speak. When he didfind words they were of the gruffest and most matter-of-fact that anEnglishman could vent.
"So then," he cried, "you have come back?"
"Yes, my brother," replied Francis, and his voice sounded musical andsoft, as the gesture he made was graceful and easy. "I, the King ofFrance, have come back to you, my brother of England, to ask your pardonfor my mad folly and grave mistake. See here," he continued, after aslight pause, and he once more looked round the tables at the glitteringcourtiers, while he held out fully in the light the scintillating rubythat had attracted him to the English shores. "I am no believer inmagic or the dark art, but there must be something strange and fatefulin this stone, magnetic perhaps, but he what it will, it led me here,knowing as I did the hi
story of its loss; and now I have brought it backto its rightful owner, to its proper resting-place. It is yours, mybrother of England, won in the far back past on the battlefield. I forthe moment have held it once again in this right hand. Sire, I returnit now, asking once more your forgiveness of the past, your renewedhospitality to a sick man for the night."
He ceased speaking, as Henry made a snatch and caught the jewel from hishand, when, light as the action was, it was sufficient to make his nowexhausted visitor stagger. He would have fallen but for the King'sstrong arm, which saved him, and helped him to the seat Henry had justvacated.
"Quick, here!" he shouted. "Wine for my brother of France!"
There was a quick movement, but Henry's hand was the first to snatch oneof the silver flagons from the table and hold it to the fainting King'slips, as he drank with avidity, uttered a sigh, and then rose with asmile.
"Am I a prisoner?" he said.
"No," cried Henry in his deepest tones--"my brother and my guest."
As he spoke he caught Francis by the hand and half supported him on hisright, as he turned now to the excited lookers-on.
"My lords and gentlemen," he thundered out, "are we to be out-distancedin chivalry and generosity by the King of France? No!" he almostroared, as he turned to Francis. "Sire," he cried, "it was to win backthat stone to the Crown of France that you risked your life and liberty,coming almost unarmed to my Court and bearing it away. I, Sire, can butadmire your daring and the gallantry with which you carried out yourquest to its successful end. And, Sire, I honour far more the gallantact of chivalry, that bravery which forced you back to my Court to makethis honourable amend. Francis, my brother, I cannot take the gem. Itis the jewel of France, and you shall bear it there. Keep it, Sire. Itis yours."
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.
LEONI'S SECRET.
The festive days were few before Francis, now the honoured guest ofHenry, left Windsor on his return to Fontainebleau, for he was stillweak and suffering from his wound; but it was a pleasant time,especially to the King's esquires, after a little cloud had cleared awayand the sun of two young lives once more was shining bright and clear.
It was towards the evening of the day succeeding the events of the lastchapter, when Denis caught sight from one of the windows of the King'sgallery of Carrbroke walking in the gardens below, looking moody andstrange, while all at once, as if conscious that he was being watched,he glanced up at the window and caught sight of Denis looking out readyto wave his hand.
The English lad frowned, turned his back, and began walking away, while,stung to the heart by his reception, the blood flushed in the Frenchlad's face, and drawing back from the window he ran along the gallery,to descend into the court, reach the garden, and make his way to thatportion of the pleasaunce where he had seen his English friend. It wassome time before he could find him, but at last he came suddenly uponhim in a secluded portion nearly surrounded by a grey stone wall coveredwith growing plants.
"Ah, there you are at last!" cried Denis.
Carrbroke turned upon him angrily and clapped his hand to his sword.
"You have come to fight?" he cried. "Well, it is death here to draw.Come out into the park, and I'll show you how I act towards a thief."
"A thief!" flashed out Denis, imitating his companion's action. "Thisis cowardly from you. But no, I will not quarrel. You do not know."
"Not know! Do I not know that in my confidence and belief in our Frenchguest, whom my father had honoured, I foolishly trusted you with thesecret of the King's private way--and for what? To help you and yourfriends to steal."
"No," said Denis gravely; "you don't know that, for it is not true. Idid tell Leoni--"
"Ugh!" ejaculated Carrbroke. "That man's horrid eyes!"
"Yes," said Denis, with a peculiar smile; "that man's horrid eyes--thoughtlessly, I suppose, of the secret way, when I believed my dutycalled; perhaps you would have done the same. But I had nothing to dowith the taking of the gem. Pah! I hated it all through, but as theKing's esquire I had to fulfil my duty to my master. Believe me, I didnot help to take the jewel. I felt that I would rather have died. Willyou not believe me, Carrbroke?" And he held out his hand.
"I feel I cannot," cried Carrbroke.
"Does it take a king to forgive?" said Denis, with a smile. "To saythose words, I forgive you, when there is nothing to forgive?"
"Oh," cried Carrbroke hoarsely, and he looked sharply round to see ifthey were observed, before snatching and tightly grasping Denis'sextended hands.
A few minutes later the two lads were walking together arms onshoulders, in full sunshine of their young nature, that light seeming tobe at the zenith, while the ruddy orange sun itself finishing its dailyrounds was slowly sinking in the west.
"Hah!" cried Denis. "I am glad we are friends again. I know it lookedblack against me, and--"
"Oh, don't!" said Carrbroke. "I thought we'd agreed that all that wasburied, never to be dug up again. But look here, we must have it now;there is one thing I want to know."
"What?" said Denis, with a peculiar mirthful look in his eyes.
"It is very horrible," continued Carrbroke. "I did not mean to ask you,but I feel I must. Of course your Leoni believed he was doing right forthe sake of France, and to serve his master, but I never understoodwhere he managed to hide the ruby. Do you know?"
"I did not know till yesterday."
"Ah, did he tell you then?--But no, I will not ask you to break hisconfidence."
"It is not to break his confidence, for he did not tell me," repliedDenis. "I learned it from Saint Simon, for he saw it on the boat."
"Saw the ruby in the boat?" cried Carrbroke. "Why, how did it getthere?"
Denis was silent for a moment or two, and then whispered something, witha peculiar smile upon his lips as he placed them near his companion'sear.
"What!" cried Carrbroke, starting back and staring in wonderment at hiscompanion. "He hid it there? Then that accounts for his peculiar fixedlook."
"Yes. He was fencing when a young man, and his adversary's rapier pointcompletely destroyed his left eye."
"Ah!" whispered Carrbroke, beneath his breath. "I see. Then the eye isfalse--made, you say, of gold, enamelled to look exactly like the other,a little hollow globe."
"Yes; an _etui_, we may call it now, but never meant to conceal thatgem."
"Horrid!" cried Carrbroke.
"Yes," said Denis quietly; "but believe it if you can."
"Oh," cried Carrbroke, "I believe; but if he had liked it could neverhave been found."
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A week later the parting of the two lads was like that of brothers, andit was full of promises of what they would do when they met again.
Perhaps they encountered later on at the Field of the Cloth of Gold; buthistory only says--
THE END.
The King's Esquires; Or, The Jewel of France Page 47