"And where is Denny?" asked the king. "Where is Sir Anthony Denny, ha?"
"He has been gone about an hour, your grace," replied the page.
"They hold me at nought!" cried Henry. "Strike his name from the list! By my life, I will teach him to wait! Go call Sir Osborne Maurice to my presence," and rising from his seat, he began again to pace the apartment.
The page, as he conducted the young knight to the hall in which Henry awaited him, took care to hint that he was in a terrific mood, with that sort of eagerness which all vulgar people have to spread evil tidings. The knight, however, asked no question and made no comment, and passing through the door which he had seen give admission to the priest about an hour before, he entered the ante-chamber, in which was seated Sir Charles Hammond, who saluted him with a silent bow. Proceeding onward, the page threw open the door of the privy-chamber, and Sir Osborne approached the king, in the knitting of whose brow, and in the curling of whose lip, might be plainly seen the inward irritation of his impetuous spirit. As he came near, Henry turned round, and fixed his eye upon him; and the knight, not knowing what might be the cause or what the consequence of his anger, bent his knee to the ground, and bowing his head, said, "God save your grace!"
"Marry, thou sayest well!" cried Henry. "We trust he will, and guard us ever against traitors! What say you?"
"If ever there be a man so much a traitor to himself," replied Sir Osborne, "as to nourish one thought against so good a king, oh, may his treason fall back upon his own head, and crush him with the weight!"
"Well prayed again," said Henry, more calmly. "Rise, rise, Sir Osborne; we must speak together. Give me your arm. We cannot sit and speak when the heart is so busy. We will walk. This hall has space enough," and with a hurried pace he took one or two turns in the chamber, fixing his eyes upon the ground, and biting his lip in silence. "Now, by our Lady!" cried he at length, "there are many men in this kingdom, Sir Osborne Maurice, who, seeing us here, holding your arm and walking by your side, would judge our life in peril."
Sir Osborne started, and gazed in Henry's face with a look of no small surprise.
"Did I but know of any one," said he, at length, "who could poison your royal ear with such a tale, were it other than a churchman or a woman, he should either confess his falsehood or die upon my sword. But your grace is noble, and believes them not. However," he continued, unbuckling his sword and laying it on the table as far away as possible, "on all accounts I will put that by. There lays the sword that was given me by an emperor, and here is the hand that saved a king's life; and here," he continued, kneeling at the king's feet, "is a heart as loyal as any in this realm, ready to shed its best blood if its king command it. But tell me, only tell me, how I have offended."
"Rise, sir knight," said the king. "On my life, I believe you so far, that if you have done wrong, you have been misled; and that your heart is loyal I am sure: yet listen. You came to this court a stranger; in you I found much of valour and of knightly worth. I loved you, and I favoured you; yet now I find that you have in much deceived me. Speak not, for I will not see in you any but the man who has saved my life; I will know you for none other. Say, then, Sir Osborne, is not life a good return for life? It is? ha?"