"What!" shouted Leoni.

"My hand and sleeve are wet with blood. Look, sir, look!" For the moon was shining brightly down upon them now. "A horrible cut upon his brow!"

"Halt!" cried Leoni; and at the command the horses stopped so suddenly that but for the hands of his followers the King would have been thrown upon his horse's neck.

"Are we to get him down?" panted Denis.

"No," said Leoni, cool and stern as if, in spite of the emergency, danger was afar. "Support him that side." And letting his horse's rein fall upon the neck he drew his little _flacon_ from the breast of his doublet, unscrewed the top, and pa.s.sing his arm round the King's shoulders, the head fell back, and the doctor pressed the neck of the little flask between his lips, while Francis yawned slightly, and a few drops trickled over his dry hot tongue. A few drops--no more--and then the top was screwed on the flask, it was returned to its owner's breast, and he busily examined the King's forehead, after drawing back the plumed cap which had been dragged down over his eyes.

"A cut from sword or axe," muttered Leoni. "It must have been given by one of those halberdiers. He has borne it bravely, gentlemen, and like a king. Hah! My handkerchief!"

He s.n.a.t.c.hed it out, just as it was, folded like a pad. "Now then, a scarf," he said. "Yours, Denis. I will unfasten it myself. You, Saint Simon, ride back a hundred yards and listen. Make out if you can whether we are pursued."

Saint Simon turned off and rode back without a word, while Leoni hastily unfastened and drew off the young esquire's silken scarf, and said with his white teeth glistening in a sardonic smile in the bright moonlight:

"Why, Denis, boy, you will be honoured to-night. You must save this scarf as an heirloom, for when you get it back it will be deeply stained with the royal blood of France."

"Hist!" whispered the lad, flushing. "The Comte will hear."

"Perhaps," said Leoni coolly; "but he will not understand. Ah, that is better: raise his head a little.--Stand still, horse!" he cried angrily; and then, as Denis raised the King's head a trifle, the white handkerchief was bound tightly over the wound, and the scarf adjusted so that it retained it in its place and formed into a turban-like cover, while the King's jewelled cap was secured by its strap to the embroidered baldric he wore.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

AN AWKWARD HALT.

Meanwhile the strong medicament administered by Leoni had had its effect, giving the sufferer temporary energy and to some extent restoring the reeling senses, so that by the time the _al fresco_ surgery was at an end, Francis began to speak with a fair amount of coherence.

"Who's this?" he said. "You, Leoni? Thanks, man. How cool and fresh the night air feels! Have I been hurt? Yes, I remember. That caitiff dog of an Englishman struck me with his partisan, and I had no time to reach him and pay him back. Thanks, doctor. Yes, I am better now. But on, on, on!" he panted, with a sudden return of the slight delirium from which he had suffered. "An end to all this. Fontainebleau! Can we reach there to-night?"

"No, sir," replied Leoni soothingly, as with his hand upon the King's rein he led his horse at a walk. "But we are well on the way for the palace. That's right. That's right. I am weary of this playing Comte, and all it means. But we shall be late, Leoni; we shall be late. They will have laid the hounds upon the boar's track. He will have broken cover, and I shall not be there with my spear."

"We will go faster soon, sir," said Leoni encouragingly; but he did not attempt to increase their speed, continuing at a walk and suddenly drawing rein to speak to Denis.

"Saint Simon," he said--"I had forgotten him."

"Coming on about a hundred yards behind," whispered Denis. "He thinks we are not followed."

"Hah!" exclaimed Leoni. "You ride on first. I will follow with the Comte. He will take up all my attention now."

"Is he much hurt?" whispered Denis anxiously.

"No; an ugly cut to the bone, but nothing to fear. Forward, boy, and keep a sharp look-out for the first road that bears off to the left.

That will be the way--anywhere will be right that takes us beyond pursuit."

Denis obeyed and rode on, looking vainly for the road he sought, but finding instead several leading in the opposite direction, while at every turning he checked his horse to wait till the rest came up, for their progress was necessarily slow.

The night glided drearily on, with the paces of the horses at a slow walk growing monotonous in the extreme; and for some time past the excitement of the flight had been giving place to the first approaches of a drowsiness that was rapidly becoming invincible, when with a faint cry of joy the lad noticed, as he looked off to his right, that the faint soft light was beginning to appear in the east, becoming soon a long, low pearly band which grew broader and broader, while the stars that had brightened for a time when the moon went down began to pale.

The patches of woodland back from the road, which had been black and sombre, began to turn grey, leaves grew distinct, and before long high-up in the zenith the sky was flecked with a few tiny clouds of a soft rosy orange which gradually brightened till they glowed like fire, and then died out, leaving nothing but the clear sky, darkened in the west, but growing lighter till the eastern horizon was reached, where, plain to see, were the rapid advances of the coming day.

The birds, too, were beginning to make their pipings heard, and all at once, as if wakened by the footsteps of the horses, a lark sprang up, to begin circling round higher and higher, carolling its joyous song, and with it raising the spirits of the young esquire, as he felt that they were free once more, and at all events taking the first steps homeward and backward to the sea, which still lay between him and the rest and peace for which he longed.

It was horrible, he felt, that the King should have been injured in this ill-starred expedition; but now it was to be at an end, and as the lad thought this in the dewy freshness and cool air of the hour before sunrise, he began to enjoy the beauty of the pleasant woodland country through which their horses paced. But he looked back from time to time, to see Francis more upright in his saddle, with Leoni riding knee to knee, and Saint Simon grave and silent fifty yards behind.

Still they pa.s.sed nothing but some foot-track or rugged lane--nothing in the way of a high-road--and the lad was about to draw rein at last to seek counsel as to their further proceedings, when at a turn of the lane he caught sight of a spreading clump of trees and what seemed to be a village green, about which cl.u.s.tered a few humble cottages, and an inn whose sign projected from a tree trunk that overhung the road.

Denis checked his horse now and waited till the others closed up.

"Shall I see if the people are awake," said the lad, "and ask them of our way?"

"No," replied Leoni coldly. "Ask nothing; but go and summon the people.

Ah, there is some one stirring there! Look--coming out from the door.

Ride on and tell him we want rest and refreshment--a chamber, too, for a gentleman who has had a fall from his horse. Denis, boy, we are in a perilous strait. I dare not let the King go further until he has had some hours of rest and sleep."

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

THE KING'S HORSES AND MEN.

The landlord of the little inn welcomed his visitors eagerly, for he had never before had guests of such degree, and when not observed he gazed open-eyed at their rich habiliments, for there had been no time to don their travelling garments. Everything had been made to give way to the opportune moment for securing the jewel and making their escape.

All the host studied was about how many gold pieces he would be able to charge this n.o.ble gentleman who had had so unfortunate an accident through his horse stumbling upon the ill-kept road, while he and his wife did everything they could in their attentions, in the hope that their visitors might prolong their stay.

Leoni bit his nails to the quick as he paced up and down, watching the road from the King's humble chamber, expecting every minute to see a mounted guard coming to arrest them, and in spite of his longing to be upon the road he dared not suggest such a thing to the King in his intervals of consciousness, when he questioned about his state and where they were, for his hurt was too serious for any risk to be run.

So Leoni tended his wounded sovereign night and day, while, quite as impatiently as he, Denis and Saint Simon tried to while away the time by giving extra attention to the horses, and feeding them up ready for a severe test of their powers when they once more continued their flight.

They too watched the road each way without attempting to leave the inn, lest troubles should arise and they not be there.

It was late in the afternoon of the fourth day, and the impatience and anxiety of the King's followers had grown unbearable; but they had this consolation, that the wound was doing well, and that though weak Francis was conscious and ready to talk as much as Leoni would permit about Fontainebleau and the journey home.

But he always avoided making any mention of the jewel, or of his dissatisfaction at having attempted so wild an escapade.

It was, then, late in the afternoon of this fourth day, when after Francis had had a light meal he sank into a profound and restful sleep, thanks to Leoni's dressing of the wound; and as soon as his attendant had satisfied himself that the sleep was deep, he went down to the shabby little room occupied by Denis and Saint Simon, who sat dolefully comparing their quarters with those they had so lately left.

"He is better, then?" cried Denis, springing up as Leoni entered; and then he looked wonderingly at Leoni, who stood perfectly still, rapt of manner and silent, gazing fixedly at him with that expressionless stony eye, while with the other he seemed to be looking Saint Simon through and through.

"Yes," said the doctor at last, as if dragging himself back from where his thoughts had wandered away; "better--much."

"He is ready to start, then?" said Denis eagerly.

"No, nor near it. We are quite lost sight of here in this lonely place.

I think we can do so with safety, so we will stay another night. I dare not risk another breakdown on the road."

"Oh," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Denis, "you surely do not advise that we should keep his--the Comte in this squalid place another night?"