in his speech, or as if he were suffering from some
forgetfulness of the English words he ought to use--"my noble English
sovereign, upon having such brave defenders at your gates."

"I thank you, sir," cried Henry. "But this is too much! These soldiery
assume more than is their right. I have heard before of this man's
brawls. He is a fighter out of employment now, for we are at peace, and
I will not have him insult my guests."

"But you will pardon him, Sire?" said Francis. "We were not hurt. Next
time we meet, your brave officer will doubtless make amends."

"He must! He shall!" cried Henry hotly. "And--"

"Sire," interrupted Francis, smiling, "I am your visitor. Grant me the
first favour that I ask."

"Anything," cried the King, smiling in his turn.

"Then you will forgive this brave man?"

The King bowed.

"I wish you to be perfectly welcome at my Court, Comte; and now you
would like to retire to your rooms to rid yourselves of your
travel-stains. Later on I look to meet you at my board."

Francis bowed in turn, and drew back, seeing that the audience was at an
end, and half turning saw that Denis had approached.

"Yes, boy?" he said.

"The horses, Comte," whispered Denis.

"Ah, to be sure! They must not be left there." And he turned, to catch
the King's eye fixed on him searchingly.

"Yes, Comte," he said; "you were about to speak?"

"It is nothing, Sire," replied Francis. "My esquire reminded me that
our steeds were at the hostelry, and--"

"Ah, you love horses!" cried the King. "So do I, and the hunt as well.
My stables are at your service, and my Master of the Horse will see that
they are well bestowed. Once more, sir, the favourite of my brother
Francis is welcome here. I look to see you again to-night."

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

DENIS IS SLEEPY.

His Majesty of England was in high good humour that night, since the
preparations for the grand reception he had ordered in honour of the
ambassador-like visitor from France had been carried out quite to his
satisfaction.

There was show, there was music, and there was dancing going on, as he
entered the _salon_ from his private rooms and looked round searchingly
before turning to speak to his stately chamberlain.

"Our visitor?" he said laconically.

"Fatigued, perhaps, with the journey, Sire. He has not yet arrived."

The King frowned, and his chamberlain raised his eyebrows a little, half
expecting to be taken to task