The King's Esquires Part 5

The two young men exchanged glances, brothers once again in combination against their rival for the King's favour, who seemed to be coming to the front and leaving them behind.

"Pardon me, Sire," said the doctor humbly. "I proposed that, as it seemed an easy way to achieve your ends."

"I would sooner give up the project, Master Leoni," said the King haughtily. "Propose something else."

The doctor spread his hands apart in the most self-abasing way, but the King was not appeased.

"Picture me, the eldest son of Holy Church, His Most Christian Majesty, masquerading as the servant of a leech! Have a care, Master Leoni. You have a way of handling a lancet and letting your patients' blood.

Recollect that kings have a way too of treating patients so that they never bleed again."

"I am your Majesty's humble slave," said Leoni, in low, deprecating tones; but Denis noticed that there was no humility in the half veiled eyes as they were lowered to the ground; "You are forgiven," said the King. "But have a care. By the Faith! It brought the blood hotly to my eyes! Now then, speak again. In what habit shall I go?"

There was silence in the chamber, broken the next moment by the impatient trampling of the monarch's feet as he paced up and down, while for a time n.o.body ventured to speak. And then in his excitement lest he should be supplanted, it was Denis who sprang into the gap.

"I have a plan, Sire," he cried. "Go as a powerful French n.o.ble, travelling to see the Courts of Europe, and--and--"

"Yes, go on, boy. That notion likes me well."

"Your Majesty might take me as your esquire, or page," added the boy, trembling lest he should have brought his master's wrath down burning upon his head.

"Hah!" shouted the King, and for a moment the boy's heart sank, for the King's hand came down upon his shoulder in a painful grip; but the next moment the sinking heart rose with a bound, his eyes flashed with excitement, and for the life of him he could not keep from darting triumphant glances at his fellow-courtiers. "There, Master Leoni!

There, Saint Simon! Who dares tell me we haven't got a young Solomon of wisdom in our Court? Hear him! That's the very idea I had in my own breast, only I couldn't think it then. Yes, Denis, that's the plan, and we will go at once."

"But your Majesty will want other followers," cried Saint Simon excitedly. "I could--"

"Select a score of quarrelsome, fiery young blades like yourself, to pick quarrels with the English courtiers and spoil our plans? No, sir; that will never do."

"Oh!" groaned the young man, so despairingly that the King laughed merrily.

"Well, you're not a bad fellow, Saint Simon, and I might get into some trouble and want the help of your sword as well as my own. Denis, boy, shall we take him with us?"

The lad flushed deeply at the "shall we?"

It was his moment of triumph. He was called upon to say yes or no, and he turned his eyes, which flashed with pride, upon his elder companion, who gazed at him imploringly, and generosity prevailed.

"Oh yes, Sire," he cried. "He will be a splendid follower to have with us at such a time."

"Then he shall come," cried the King; and Saint Simon sprang forward to kiss his sovereign's hand, while as he rose he turned his eyes upon Denis, and the boy react in them, as it were, the extinction of rivalry, for they seemed to say, I shall never forget this.

"Then that's about all," cried the King, with a sigh of mingled relief and content.

"Sire, may your servant speak?" said Leoni humbly.

"Yes. What is it?" was the impatient reply.

"You are going into a strange country to encounter many perils."

"Pooh! Adventures."

"And adventures," said Leoni--"and may meet with injuries, suffer in your health. Would it not be wise to have the leech in your train?"

"My faith, no!" cried the monarch. "I know you of old, my plotting, scheming friend. You would be having me ill, stretched upon a pallet, within a week, and then it is the doctor who becomes the King. I think we three can manage without your help; but I won't be forgetful of old services, and I'll trust you in this. There is no such scribe about the Court as you, so you shall keep a chronicle of everything that happens here while the cat's away, and read the record of the sporting of my mice to me on my return. I can trust you to see twice as much as any other man about the Court, in your double-sighted way."

"Double-sighted suggests duplicity, Sire," said the doctor.

"No, no; I don't mean that," cried the King, "and you know it. If I thought that you were guilty of duplicity, Leoni, do you think that I should trust you as I do? There," he continued impatiently, "don't look at me like that, man. It worries me."

"It is my misfortune, Sire, not my intention."

"Of course. I know; I know. But you look sometimes as if you were keeping me in conversation with one eye, while the other was seeking how to take me at a disadvantage."

"That's what people about the Court say, Sire," said the doctor, with a grim smile.

"Yes, I know," replied the King. "I have heard Saint Simon say so. I shouldn't have thought of it myself. But it is quite right, all the same."

"In appearance, Sire; but it is not true."

The King laughed.

"My dear doctor, yes, of course; I know that. Do you know what I lay and thought once when I was ill?"

"No, Sire; but something wise, no doubt."

"Bah! None of your subtle flattery. No one knows better than I do, Leoni, that I am not a clever man. What I lay and thought was that you had studied your two crafts so well that one eye was the window from which the clever doctor's brain looked out, the other that of the calm, quiet, thoughtful statesman. I should long to have two such eyes as yours, Leoni, only that there are the ladies, you know. I don't think that they would approve, eh, doctor? What is your experience?"

"That your Majesty is quite right," replied the other, with his cynical smile. "I have never been a ladies' man."

CHAPTER FIVE.

A KING AT SEA.

"Well, boys, we are fairly started," said the King, "but this vessel moves about a great deal. I hope we are not going to have rough weather."

"Well, I'm sorry to say, Sire--" began Saint Simon.

"Ah!" cried the King, in a low angry voice. "Four days since we started, and I have been giving you lesson after lesson, and you begin at once addressing me like that. Once more, both of you, I am the Comte de la Seine, on my travels, and you, Saint Simon, are my friend, and you, Denis, my esquire. Now look here, Denis, do I look at all like a king now?"

"Not in the least, Comte."

"And now you, Saint Simon; what have you got to say about the weather?"

"That I have been talking to the s.h.i.+pmaster, and he says the weather is going to be very fine--"

"That's good," cried the King.

"--but very windy."