"This is evidently a fine city," said the King. "I have read enough to know that it has been a home of kings, so we will sleep there to-night and start afresh in good time to-morrow, though we shall not go to the Palace for a bed. But there is sure to be some good travellers' inn."

And this proved to be the case as they rode through the city gate down the High Street, to check their steeds by the Market Cross, the observed of all observers, and they were many lurking about the place, for it had been market day.

It was not the costume of the three hors.e.m.e.n, for they were purposely very plainly clad, everything about them, however, looking good and soldierly. It was their beautiful horses that took the attention of most of the st.u.r.dy country-looking folks, and more than one keen-eyed man approached them with no little freedom, scanning their mounts from head to heel, one man giving the King a nod and stretching out his hand to run it down his charger's leg.

The King looked furious, darted a fierce glance at the intruder, and reined up his horse so suddenly that the fine beast reared and made the man start back, his discomfiture being greeted by a roar of laughter on the part of the uncouth people around.

"The insolence!" muttered the King to Denis. "These English islanders are brutal in their ways. If they knew who I was! Here, let's ride on."

His horse answered to the pressure of his knees and moved off upward through the crowd, Saint Simon following his track, and Denis coming last, having no little difficulty in closing up, for the increasing crowd obstructed his way, the people's curiosity being aroused by the strangers.

"These horses for sale?" said the man who had been rebuffed, pressing up to the young esquire's knee.

"No," said the lad, in fairly good English. "Why?"

"Hallo!" said the man. "You are a Frenchman. Then you have brought these over to sell. Look here, young man, I can help your master to find a buyer in some great English lord. I deal in horses, and I'll make it worth his while. Where are you going to stay?"

"I don't know," replied Denis. "Keep back, please. My horse doesn't like crowding, and he may strike out."

"I'll take care," said the man. "I understand horses. Yes, this is a nice animal you are riding too."

Denis made no answer, but pressed forward. There was some shouting, but the crowd gave way and he rode up close just as the King drew rein by a gateway and then pa.s.sed into a great inn-yard, where a couple of hostlers hurried to meet them, and a buxom-looking landlady in widow's coif came smiling to the door of the comfortable-looking inn.

"Hah!" said the King, dismounting. "This looks like France. Here we can rest and dine. Denis, my boy, talk to the dame there, and tell her to get us quickly a dinner of the best."

Denis turned, meeting the pleasant-faced landlady's eye as he dismounted and threw his rein to one of the stablemen, noting, as he walked to where the landlady stood waiting, that the man who had accosted them was following into the inn-yard with three or four others of the same stamp; and the sight of the fellow made the lad hesitate as he thought of the possibility of the fellow's insolence raising the King's ire. But he had his task to fulfil, and the next moment the landlady was receiving him with bows and smiles, ready to show him into a comfortable old-fashioned room, and make his task easy by suggesting instead of taking orders, the only one he found it necessary to give being the simple one:

"Everything, and of the best; but quickly, for we have ridden far."

This was in French, but to the lad's great delight the hostess spoke his tongue, with a good accent, easily and well.

"Anyone would think you were French," he said, with a courtly bow.

"Oh no," she said, "I am English. I was in Rouen many years at school, and we have French travellers here sometimes. But let me show you the chambers for your lord and your young friend. He is a lord?" she said, with a pleasant smile.

"He is what you English would call a lord," replied Denis. "The Comte de la Seine."

"Ah," said the hostess, with a smile of satisfaction at the quality of her guests, as she led the way to the best chambers of the fine old inn, Denis selecting two, one within the other, which were exactly such as he felt the King would like--that is to say, a fine old bedroom with a double-bedded ante-chamber, which he immediately determined should be for himself and Saint Simon.

Within an hour, partly refreshed, the King and his two followers entered the room where their dinner was spread, unbuckled and laid by their swords, and took their places at the well-furnished table, as a couple of fresh-looking serving-maids, under the guidance of the hostess, brought in the soup and plates, the mistress seeing to the helping and then retiring, leaving the guests to their repast.

"Hah!" exclaimed the King. "My appet.i.te is grand. What soup! Why, we might be in France. No, it is better, thicker and stronger. But what's this? The insolence of these Englanders! Here, Denis, boy, read it aloud." And he tossed a folded paper, one end of which was sticking out from beneath his soup bowl, across to the young esquire.

The lad's eyes flashed, as he read in a crabbed, clear hand the words: "_Imminent undique pericula_."

"What's that, Leoni? Bah! He isn't here," cried the King, letting his spoon fall back into the bowl. "I thought it was the account. Latin.

Read it again."

Denis obeyed, while the King's left hand began to play with his dagger, as he darted a suspicious look at the closed door, and then at the side dresser upon which he had thrown his sword.

"What do you make of that, Saint Simon?" he said, in a low, deep voice.

"Sir, I do not know Latin as I should," was the reply.

"Shame on you!" growled the King. "You, Denis, you were last at school.

What do you make it to be?"

"In plain homely language, sir: Beware of danger."

"Yes, imminent danger," cried the King. "Poison! And I have eaten nearly half my soup!"

"No, no, sir," cried Denis. "I'll vouch for this. A woman with a motherly face like that could be trusted, I will vow."

"I don't know," said the King. "You are only a boy. Now I have grown old enough to think that it requires a very clever man to know exactly what there is behind a woman's pleasant smiling face. This one looks plump and comfortable and honest; but there's no knowing. Now, if we had Leoni here he'd fix her with that quiet eye of his, and search her through and through with the other. He'd know. And I am beginning to find out that I have done a very stupid thing in not bringing his Ugliness with us. By my sword, I wish we had brought him! I wished it last night too, over and over again, when I felt so--ah, hum--when I couldn't sleep for the creaking and groaning of that wretched vessel."

As he pulled himself up short he looked searchingly from one to the other of the two young men, giving each a suspicious glance, suspecting as he did that he would find a mocking smile upon their lips; but he was pleasantly disappointed, for Saint Simon looked stolidly stupid, and Denis eager and expectant of the next words he should let fall.

"Well," said the King, "we haven't got him here, and we must think for ourselves; but that must be right. The soup is too good for that," and he began to partake again. "Here, Denis, lad, on second thoughts it must mean that we are being recognised. The islanders know who I am, and that pleasant-faced woman wishes to give us warning. Saint Simon, my lad, fetch our sword and hang it by the belt upon the corner of the chair. Do the same by your own. I am not going to leave this soup, and if we are to fight for what is evidently intended for an excellent dinner, why, fight we will."

Saint Simon obeyed, and then at a sign from the King re-took his place and went on eating with such appet.i.te as he could command.

"Shall I stand on guard by the door, sir, till you have dined?" said Denis.

"No, boy. Eat your soup and what else comes. We shall all three fight the better for a meal."

CHAPTER NINE.

THE SCENT OF DANGER.

It was hard to imagine that there was danger in the air, for in that comfortably furnished panelled room everything was suggestive of plenty and peace, and, noticing as he went on with his meal how impressed his two followers seemed to be, the King paused, spoon in hand, and cried with a laugh:

"Come, boys, where are your appet.i.tes? Are we to be scared with a sc.r.a.p of paper, a Latin exercise, perhaps, written by our hostess's son?"

As he spoke there was a faint rasping sound as of wood pa.s.sing over wood, making Denis turn sharply and put out his hand towards his sword, for it seemed to him that there was a tremulous motion in one of the panels of the wall behind where the King was seated.

"What's that?" cried the latter sharply, as with a bound the lad sprang past him to stand between him and the side of the room.

For answer Denis drew his sword and pointed to the panel.

"Well? Why don't you speak?"

"There is a door there, sir, and I saw it move."

"There is no door here," cried Saint Simon, as he felt about the panel, which was perfectly rigid; and just then the hostess entered, followed by the maids bearing fresh dishes, to look wonderingly from one to the other.

"Ah, mistress!" cried the King. "Is there a door there? Does one of those panels open?"