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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 9. The Scent Of Danger

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_ 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 appetites? Are we to be scared with a scrap of paper, a Latin exercise, perhaps, written by our hostess's son?"

As he spoke there was a faint rasping sound as of wood passing 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?"

"Oh yes, my lord," she replied. "It is a hatch to pass dishes through into a smaller dining chamber." And she smilingly stepped to the wall, turned a carved rose at one corner of the panel, and pressed it sidewise, showing a square opening through which a similarly furnished room could be seen.

"Send away those women," said the King sternly.

The hostess started, spoke to the two girls, who stepped back with the dishes, and she closed the door after them.

"One of my followers saw that panel move," said the King sternly. "There is some one there."

"Oh no, my lord," she cried, "The room is empty. Look."

"But the panel moved," cried Denis, "and I heard a sound."

"Impossible, sir," said the woman.

"Then what does this mean?" said the King, taking up the scrap of paper.

The woman took it, looked at it blankly, and passed it back.

"I don't know," she said. "It is a foreign tongue."

"Humph!" ejaculated the King. "This is strange, madam. That paper lay beneath my plate, and some one must have been watching us at our meal."

"No, my lord," said the woman; "it is impossible. Nobody could have been there. If anyone has dared--" She said no more, but angrily thrust the panel back into its place and turned the oaken rose, which gave a snap as of a bolt shooting into its socket, and then, raising her hand to the diagonal corner, she turned a fellow ornament in the oaken carving, to produce another sound as of a second bolt being shot.

"There," she cried, "it is quite fast now. One minute, and I will return."

She hurried out of the room, and the next minute they heard the sounds of knuckles rapping the panel on the other side and directly after the loud closing and locking of a door.

A few moments later, as the party stood there waiting, the woman was back at their side, to lay a large key upon the table, looking flushed and angry.

"I am very sorry, my lord and gentlemen," she cried, "and angry too"--a fact which was plainly enough marked in her countenance. "But this is a public inn, and some insolent idler, moved by curiosity, has dared to watch. I never imagined anyone would venture; and now I beg you will resume your meal."

"But there is the paper," said the King.

"Yes, yes," she said, "the paper. I do not understand."

"Ah, well," said the King, "we will not spoil our dinner; but I do not like to have hungry dogs watching while I make my meal. Sit down, gentlemen, and let us finish."

Setting the example, he recommenced, but thrust the half-finished bowl away with an impatient "Bah! The soup is cold. Here, hostess! Call those women back. And I want some wine. What have you in the house?"

"Some of the best vintages of France, my lord," said the woman eagerly, and drawing a deep breath of relief in the feeling that the trouble was at an end, though there was a twitching now and then at the corners of her eyes suggesting that she was not quite at ease.

The fresh dishes were placed upon the table as soon as the soup was removed, and soon after the hostess herself bore in a couple of rush-covered flasks of wine.

"Burgundy--Malvoisey," she said, indicating each in turn.

"The Burgundy," said the King, and as the glasses were filled, and they were once more quite alone, he made as if to tear up the paper, but altering his mind folded it quickly, and thrust it in the pouch he carried at his belt.

"Come, gentlemen," he said: "that scrap of paper shall not spoil a pleasant meal. It is a mere molehill in our path. Here's success to our expedition.--Hah! better vine than my own."

A few minutes later the hostess returned, and smiled once more upon finding that her guests were hard at work evidently in the full enjoyment of their meal.

"Ah, madam!" cried the King, raising his glass and drinking again. "You keep good wine. I would not have wished for better; but tell me, what other guests have you in the house?"

"None, my lord," said the woman frankly. "There have been some of the country people at the market, but they have gone. There was an ordinary traveller too, earlier in the day. He came from somewhere in the south, I believe, but he has gone. You are the only guests I have, and I humbly hope that the meats are to your liking."

"Excellent, madam, excellent," said the King, looking at her fixedly. "Then we are quite alone?"

The woman met his eye without wincing, and bowed gravely.

"Yes, my lord; quite alone."

"Then we will have no one here while we stay, madam. I like to be undisturbed. Understand me, please. I take the whole place, and you can charge me what you please."

The woman made a grave courtesy, and retired to see to the next course she had prepared, wiping her brow as soon as she was outside.

"Some great French noble," she muttered, "travelling to London, to the Court perhaps. I wonder who he is. Yes," she said to herself excitedly, "and I wonder too who dared to enter that next room. It must have been that evil-looking traveller, that starveling. I believe he was a thief. It could not have been--Oh no, I know them all by sight." _

Read next: Chapter 10. How Leoni Lost His Eye

Read previous: Chapter 8. Madame The Hostess

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