The Kings Esquires | Page 7

the jewel back?"
"Far from it, your Majesty."
"Then why disturb the pleasant present?"
"For fear of a troubled future, Sire. It is to ensure your long and prosperous reign that I speak like this. Believe me, Sire, I have no other aim."
"Well, Leoni, I believe your words. You have a good position here at Court, and a good master ready to give you anything in reason; and believe me, I want to enjoy a quiet prosperous reign. Mine is a very pleasant life. There are plenty of boars to kill, and I would rather slay them than Englishmen. War is very attractive and very grand. The clash of arms, the trumpets' bray, and the thunder of chargers' hoofs, all thrill me to the core; but I prefer it in the tourney, the mimic charge, and I don't much care for blood. But you as a wise and thoughtful man, you tell me that I ought to stir in this and get the ruby back?"
"I do, Sire," said Leoni sternly.
"Well, well, then I suppose it must be done."
The dog gave a sharp growl and showed his teeth.
"What, sir!" roared the King, snatching back his hand to grasp the dagger in his girdle. "Do you dare to turn upon your lord?"
"No, no, Sire," cried Denis excitedly. "It was not his fault."
"What do you mean, sir?" said the King angrily.
"You were pulling his ears so hard, Sire, and dragging his head to and fro."
"Was I?" said the King.
"Yes, Sire. He bore it as long as he could."
"Poor old Tonnerre!" said the King, clapping his hand upon the dog's head again; and the dog whined with pleasure at the caress. "I was growing excited, I suppose. Well, never mind the hound. Now then, Leoni; we must have this ruby back?"
"Yes, Sire. I shall never rest till I see it safely in the ancient crown."
"And I suppose I must say the same," said the King. "But how is it to be done? There: speak. You have studied all this out, I suppose? How is it to be done?"
"By a trusty mission to England, Sire."
"Absurd! I am sure King Henry would never give anything up."
"And I, Sire. He must be forced."
"Send force?"
"No, Sire. The force must be that of one strong, daring envoy who would seize upon the gem and bring it back."
"What, steal?" cried the King.
"Can one steal that which is one's own, Sire?"
"True. No," said the King. "This is ours by right."
"Your Majesty speaks well," said the doctor triumphantly. "This gem belongs to France's ancient crown, from which it was wrenched, plundered, stolen, carried away as spoil. And now it must be recovered."
"Openly," said the King.
"No, Sire. That means war. My plan is that you should send a trusted envoy to watch his opportunity, seize the gem or gems, and bring them back."
"Hah!" ejaculated Denis, in the excitement of the moment; and Saint Simon turned upon him sharply, and with a resentful look which was returned.
"But it means a deal," said the King thoughtfully. "That ambassador would risk his life."
"Hah!" ejaculated Saint Simon, giving vent to his suppressed excitement in his turn; and Denis now gave him back his resentful jealous look.
"Yes, Sire," continued Leoni; "the envoy would risk his life, of course--in the service of his King. But there are men who would do this for their master's sake, to ensure his long and peaceful reign."
"And if he fails?" said the King.
"He would not fail, Sire. He would be carried forward by the knowledge that he was fighting in the cause of right and duty towards the master that he loved. Have no fear of that, Sire. He would succeed."
"But I have fear," cried the King. "Find me such a man as that, and I should look upon him as a treasure whose life I would not risk."
"There would be no risk, Sire. It would be a question not of force but guile. He would make his way to the Court of your brother of England in a way which I have planned."
"With recommendations from me?"
"Perhaps, Sire. I have not settled that."
"No," said the King angrily. "Why, man, when the gems were missed, the theft would be laid at my door. I would sooner march my people across English ground and take them honestly by force."
"That could not be done, Sire. Leave that to me. Your messenger must go, and carry out his ambassage by guile."
"And who is to be the man?" asked the King.
"I!" cried Denis, springing forward, to sink upon one knee before Francis, and so suddenly as to rouse the dog, which leaped towards him, barking furiously.
"You, my boy!" cried the King.
"No, Sire," cried Saint Simon excitedly, following Denis's example, to spring to the King's feet. "I will go. It is work for a man grown, not for a puny boy."
"Ha, ha,