CHAPTER FORTY SIX.
IN BORROWED PLUMES.
Denis stood for a few moments panting heavily, not daring to take hiseyes from those of the King, who stood there speechless withastonishment. Then by an effort the boy wrenched his gaze from where itwas held, as he thought of his own sword; but the weapon was on theother side of the bed, and as he realised it the thought came that thiswas a King--one who had but to utter a word to bring in his guards.
"Tricked again," said the King at last; "and by you, boy! Francis'sesquire! Where is your King?"
"Beyond your reach, Sire, by this time," said the boy boldly, nerved ashe was by the feeling that he had gained much time, and that his wordswere true.
"Escaped?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Ah!" ejaculated the King. "And I see now this was another ruse. Howlike a Frenchman! He was not wounded after all."
"He was, Sire," cried the boy indignantly, "and dangerously too."
"But that jewel--where is it now? On its way to France?"
"No, Sire; I can answer for that."
"Then you have it."
"No, Sire, I have it not; and I am sure--my life on it--it never passedinto his Majesty's hands."
"You lie, boy!" cried the King fiercely.
"I am a gentleman of France, Sire," said the boy haughtily.
"A gentleman of France!" cried the King scornfully. "A member of a gangof thieves!"
"I am your prisoner, Sire," said the boy boldly, "and I know what isbound to be my fate. I am no member of a gang of thieves, but one of myKing's esquires, bound to do his duty as his Majesty's servant; and Ihave done mine--no more."
"Ah!" cried the King, making a quick advance towards the boy, who madean involuntary movement towards his rear, but checked it on the instant,drew himself up proudly, and folded his arms across his breast.
"Pish!" said Henry impatiently. "I was not going to slay you, boy."And he thrust his sword back into its sheath and caught the lad by theshoulder. "Then that was the King of France!"
"Yes, Sire."
"I knew it," cried the King, "and Hurst was right. And you have beendeceiving us all here, lying bandaged in that bed, while he has beenplacing himself beyond our reach, bearing away that fateful gem?"
"Yes, Sire; but my word for it, his Majesty the King has never laidhands upon the jewel, and is not bearing it away."
"Well!" exclaimed the King, with his eyes rolling and his cheeks puffedout; and then, loosening his fierce grip upon the boy's shoulder, hestaggered back to the nearest chair, dropped into it, and laughed.
The next minute the mirth died out of his half closed eyes, and a scowlappeared upon his brow, as he fiercely gazed in the eyes that did notfor a moment blench. But the frown died out in a look of admiration, ashe said sharply:
"You springald, to play a part like this, with the executioner's axehanging above your neck and waiting to fall. Why did you do this?"
"To save my master, Sire."
"Hah! To the risk of your own life."
"Yes, Sire."
"Speak out, boy--the naked truth. Are you not afraid?"
"Horribly, Sire," replied the boy slowly. "The duty is harder than Ithought."
"Hark ye," cried the King; "are all French boys like you?"
"I hope so, Sire."
"Do you? Well, boy, I don't believe they are. But speak, and don'tturn white like that--a gentleman of France, as you call yourself--aking's esquire, should not be afraid to die."
Denis was silent perforce, for no words would come.
"A daring young dog!" muttered the King, in a tone so low that it hardlyreached the listener's ears. "Look here, sir," continued Henry, "youhave forfeited your life and stayed me from showing mercy to yourmaster. Now, sir, would you like to win it back?"
"Gladly, Sire," cried the boy, "but--"
"But what?" said Henry sharply.
"I will not do anything to betray my King."
"Wait till you are asked, boy," said Henry roughly, as he kept his eyesfixed admiringly upon the lad, who faced him still with a wondrouscommand of nerve. "You know that I have the power of life or death?"
Denis bowed his head slowly.
"Well, then, a king cannot stoop to slay even an enemy if he is brave.I will give you your life on one condition."
The boy started, and the King smiled.
"Not to sign a paper which gives me Bordeaux and Guienne, but to be myfaithful servant and serve me as you have served your master to the end.I want followers like you. Be English, even if you have French bloodflowing in your veins. Well, why do you not speak? Is not mine akingly act?"
"Yes, Sire, and I am grateful."
"Well, why do you hesitate? Enter my service. The star of the Valoismust be setting fast when its representative can stoop to such a deed asthis."
The lad shook his head.
"What! Do you not understand? I will find work for your sword. Serveme faithfully, and rank shall in time be yours. Do you forget that yourlife is still at stake?"
"I cannot buy it, Sire, by betraying my master. Francis is my King."
"And fortunate in having followers like this," said the King to himself,as he rose, turned sharply from where the boy still stood with his armscrossed upon his breast, fighting hard for the resignation that refusedto come, while his heart now beat slowly and heavily, as if in the marchthat ended in the scaffold and the axe.
The next minute the King had flung open the outer chamber door, as if toshow to the boy his fate, for there stood the captain with the guardsdrawn up on either side, their armour gleaming and the lights they boreflashing from their halberds' heads.
But the boy stood firm, seeing as it were through the glitteringpageantry of the English Court the gleaming fields of far-off France, asparkling river, and the grey steeple turrets of an ancient French_chateau_. It was home, with all he loved therein.
It was momentary, and the vision was dissolved by the King's loud voice,as he cried sharply:
"Who's with you there? Hah! Hurst! Look here, man."
"Your Majesty!" cried the chamberlain, looking at the boy inastonishment.
"Behold my royal visitor!" cried Henry mockingly. "This is the way mycourts are kept."
"I do not understand, your Majesty," cried the chamberlain, tremblingfor what was next to come.
"But I do, man!" cried Henry. "Here is our sick and wounded prisoner."
"A ruse--a trick!" said the chamberlain excitedly.
"Yes--French," cried Henry, with a mocking laugh. "The bird has flown,and left another in his nest. There, young popinjay, young daw--look athim, Hurst! He has cast his borrowed plumes." Then turning to Denis:"Put on your own feathers, boy. You will come with me. Bring him to myapartments, Hurst."
"As a prisoner, Sire?"
"No," said the King, still fixing Denis with his eyes, and speaking tohim as much as to the chamberlain. "He is my guest still, though hismaster is gone. See that you use him well."