"Only a page, my lord," replied the dwarf; and they walked on. The Count looked at the page attentively; but not the slightest sign of recognition appeared on his face; and, though the youth's steps faltered a little with the apprehension of discovery, he quitted the hall, satisfied that his disguise was not seen through. As soon as they reached the door of the small chamber, which was to be thenceforth his abode, Bartholo left him, to bring the refreshment he had ordered; and as the dwarf passed by the door of the hall once more, and heard the steps of the Count pacing up and down, he paused an instant, as if undecided. "Shall I tell him?" he muttered between his teeth, "shall I tell him, and blow the whole scheme to pieces? But no, no, no; I should lose all, and with him it might have quite the contrary effect. I must find another way;" and he walked on.
CHAPTER V.
The Chevalier de St. Real, according to the ideas of hospitality entertained in those days, pressed the King of Navarre to his food, and urged the wine upon him; but scarcely had Henry's glass been filled twice, ere the sound of steps hurrying hither and thither was heard in the hall, and the young noble cast many an anxious look towards the door. It opened at length, and an old servant entered, who, approaching the chair of his young lord, whispered a few words in his ear.
"Indeed!" said St. Real; "I had hoped his sleep would have lasted longer. How seems he now, Duverdier?--is he refreshed by this short repose?"
"I cannot say I think it, sir," replied the servant; "but he asks anxiously for you, and we could not find you in the hall."
"I come," answered St. Real; and then turning to the King, he added, "My father's short rest is at an end, and I will now tell him of your visit, sir. Doubtless he will gladly see you, as there is none he respects more deeply."
"Go! go! my young lord," cried Henry; "I will wait you here, with these good gentlemen. Let me be no restraint upon you. Yet tell your father, my good lord, that my business is such as presses a man's visits on his friends even at hours unseasonable, else would I not ask to see him when he is ill and suffering."
The young lord of St. Real bowed his head and quitted the apartment; while Henry remained with the other guests, whose curiosity was not a little increased in regard to who this Maitre Jacques could be, by the great reverence which seemed paid to him. They had soon an opportunity of expressing their curiosity to each other, in the absence of the object thereof; for in a very few minutes the Chevalier of St. Real returned, and besought Henry to "honour his father's chamber with his presence." The King followed with a smile; and when the door of the little hall was closed behind them, laid his hand upon St. Real's arm, saying, "You are no good actor, my young friend."
"I am afraid not," replied St. Real, in a tone from which he could not banish the sadness occasioned by his father's illness; "yet I trust what I said may in no degree betray your Majesty."
"No, no," answered Henry, "I dare say not; and should you see any suspicions, St. Real, you must either--in penance for having shown too much reverence for a king, in an age when kings are out of all respect--you must either keep these gentry close prisoners here till I have reached Tours, and thence made a two-days' journey Paris-ward, or you must give me a guard of fifty men to push my way through as far as Chartres."