The Kings Esquires | Page 8

ha!" laughed the King merrily. "Quiet, Tonnerre! Quiet!" For the great hound, roused by the excitement, was filling the chamber with his deep-toned bay, his eyes glaring redly, and his glistening white fangs bared, as he gazed in his master's face as if asking for orders as to whom he should seize by the throat and pin.
"Down, sir!" cried the King again. "Quiet! There, Leoni, was I not right in letting these boys share our confidence? Who says that Francis of Valois has not followers in whom he can trust?"
"Not I, Sire," said the doctor grimly; "but this is no work for them."
"Not for Denis here," cried Saint Simon excitedly, "but, your Majesty, for me. I would strike, and strike now. Mine be the task to do or die!"
"Silence, boy!" cried the King, laying his hand on Denis's head as he dumbly looked up at him in protest, his eyes appealing the while that his monarch's favour should be awarded to him alone. "No, no; emphatically no! Neither of you will go alone. You hear, boys? I will not send you on this quest."
Francis turned to Leoni as he spoke, and the doctor bowed his head in acquiescence.
"Yours are the words of wisdom, Sire," he said. "The work is not for such as these--these two gallant followers of their King."
"Who then is to follow out the task?" said Francis. "For I like it well, and it must and shall be done. You hear me, Leoni? I have spoken now, and I will not rest, since you have roused me to this task, until this jewel glistens once more in its rightful place above my kingly crown."
"Spoken like the King of France!" cried the doctor, drawing himself up. "And now, Sire, it will be done."
"By whom?" cried Francis sternly.
"By your servant, Sire, who has dwelt upon this for years, thought out and nurtured the plans until the fruit is ripe. By the man who possesses the energy, the guile, and the determination to serve his master in this great duty to his King."
"And who is that man?" cried Francis, rising to his feet and standing proudly before his three courtiers kneeling before him; for as he uttered his next words Leoni sank in turn upon one knee and bent his head, to say in a low deep tone, almost a whisper, but which seemed to fill the silence of the place:
"I, Sire--your faithful servant. I am that man."
The silence for the next few moments was profound, while a cloud that had eclipsed the sun for some time past floated slowly from before the glowing orb, which poured its full beams through the gorgeous panes of the stained-glass windows of the chamber, and flooded the standing monarch with its glowing light as he made reply. His words were quick, sharp, and decisive, and fell upon the listeners like a thunderbolt, stunning them for a moment with the astonishment they felt; but they were only these:
"Neither are you the man to carry out this quest. I will go myself."
CHAPTER FOUR.
THE DOCTOR'S EYES.
For some moments the trio remained kneeling and staring up at the King in absolute wonderment; for in a few brief words he had swept away, as by the touch of a magician's wand, the gathering feeling of jealous annoyance which was forming in each breast. Leoni was the first to find the use of his tongue; but it was in a hesitating way quite foreign to his usual speech that he faltered out:
"You go, Sire?"
"Yes, I said so," said the King sharply.
"But it is impossible, Sire. You could not stoop to do such a thing as this."
"Then what's the use of being a king," cried Francis, "if one cannot do what one likes?"
Leoni slowly rose to his feet and shrugged his shoulders.
"That is a question I cannot answer, Sire. It forms part of the scheme of life. I have lived fifty years in the world, thirty of which have been spent in thinking and in study of my fellows. I never met one man yet who could do exactly as he liked."
"Well, if you come to that," said the King, "I don't think that I ever did; but I mean to do this all the same."
"But how could you, Sire? If the King of England chose to play you false he might throw you into prison."
"What!" cried Francis hotly.
"And hold you to ransom, Sire."
"Ah! I didn't think of that; but if he did it would give young Denis a chance to come and rescue me. You would, wouldn't you, boy?"
"Yes, Sire, or die in the attempt."
"Don't you be so fond of talking about dying," cried the King. "Who wants to die? Here, with all France at my feet, one wants to live and enjoy oneself. But let's see, Leoni; that wouldn't