"I cannot! I will not," he cried. "I will go."

"For the sake of France, the country you so dearly love!"

"It is for the sake of France I go, to prove myself worthy the name of her King. You urge me to perform a dastardly act in fleeing at a time like this."

"Remember, Sire, the reason why you came."

"I do," said the King, standing up proudly in the boat, as the edge of the moon began to lift above the low mist that lay upon the river and adjacent meads, lighting up the King's face, animated now into stern beauty by the spirit within which spoke, "and think of it with shame.

Listening to your words, I blinded myself into the belief that it was right, that it was a brave and a gallant act to wrest that Crown jewel from King Henry's hand; but I see more clearly now that my mad enterprise has met with its merited fate, and go back I will as a chivalrous knight, ask my brother King's forgiveness, and save that brave boy from his cruel fate."

"But, Sire, remember! Remember Fontainebleau and France."

"I do; and I remember too that your plot has failed."

"But it has not failed, Sire," cried Leoni, rising now; and as he stood erect there was a look of triumph in his face which gave him, as it were, a reflection of the kingly majesty before which he stood. "It has not failed, but ended in triumph and success."

"What!" cried the King fiercely. "You speak in riddles. Tell me what you mean."

He seemed to tower over his follower, who, apparently humbled, crouched before him with lowered head and outstretched deprecating hands, with which he covered his face as if asking mercy. But the next moment he sprang up once more, just as the King angrily repeated himself:

"Not failed!" he cried. "Tell me what you mean?"

For answer Leoni threw back his head and held one hand on high full in the light of the moon, which flashed and scintillated from the many facets of a brilliant gem.

"Hah!" cried the King excitedly. "What have you there?"

"That which we came to seek, Sire. The Balas ruby--the fateful gem of France!"

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

IN BORROWED PLUMES.

Denis stood for a few moments panting heavily, not daring to take his eyes from those of the King, who stood there speechless with astonishment. Then by an effort the boy wrenched his gaze from where it was held, as he thought of his own sword; but the weapon was on the other side of the bed, and as he realised it the thought came that this was a King--one who had but to utter a word to bring in his guards.

"Tricked again," said the King at last; "and by you, boy! Francis's esquire! Where is your King?"

"Beyond your reach, Sire, by this time," said the boy boldly, nerved as he was by the feeling that he had gained much time, and that his words were true.

"Escaped?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the King. "And I see now this was another ruse. How like a Frenchman! He was not wounded after all."

"He was, Sire," cried the boy indignantly, "and dangerously too."

"But that jewel--where is it now? On its way to France?"

"No, Sire; I can answer for that."

"Then you have it."

"No, Sire, I have it not; and I am sure--my life on it--it never pa.s.sed into his Majesty's hands."

"You lie, boy!" cried the King fiercely.

"I am a gentleman of France, Sire," said the boy haughtily.

"A gentleman of France!" cried the King scornfully. "A member of a gang of thieves!"

"I am your prisoner, Sire," said the boy boldly, "and I know what is bound to be my fate. I am no member of a gang of thieves, but one of my King's esquires, bound to do his duty as his Majesty's servant; and I have done mine--no more."

"Ah!" cried the King, making a quick advance towards the boy, who made an involuntary movement towards his rear, but checked it on the instant, drew himself up proudly, and folded his arms across his breast.

"Pish!" said Henry impatiently. "I was not going to slay you, boy."

And he thrust his sword back into its sheath and caught the lad by the shoulder. "Then that was the King of France!"

"Yes, Sire."

"I knew it," cried the King, "and Hurst was right. And you have been deceiving us all here, lying bandaged in that bed, while he has been placing himself beyond our reach, bearing away that fateful gem?"

"Yes, Sire; but my word for it, his Majesty the King has never laid hands upon the jewel, and is not bearing it away."

"Well!" exclaimed the King, with his eyes rolling and his cheeks puffed out; and then, loosening his fierce grip upon the boy's shoulder, he staggered back to the nearest chair, dropped into it, and laughed.

The next minute the mirth died out of his half closed eyes, and a scowl appeared upon his brow, as he fiercely gazed in the eyes that did not for a moment blench. But the frown died out in a look of admiration, as he said sharply:

"You springald, to play a part like this, with the executioner's axe hanging above your neck and waiting to fall. Why did you do this?"

"To save my master, Sire."

"Hah! To the risk of your own life."

"Yes, Sire."

"Speak out, boy--the naked truth. Are you not afraid?"

"Horribly, Sire," replied the boy slowly. "The duty is harder than I thought."

"Hark ye," cried the King; "are all French boys like you?"

"I hope so, Sire."

"Do you? Well, boy, I don't believe they are. But speak, and don't turn white like that--a gentleman of France, as you call yourself--a king's esquire, should not be afraid to die."

Denis was silent perforce, for no words would come.