“It is a message, Sir John,” he said, “for my young master.” And he handed a document to Ned Carrbroke, who hastily unfastened it and read.
“Lord Hurst orders me to return at once,” he said to his father.
“Ah,” said Sir John. “You see, sir,” he exclaimed with a smile, looking at the King, “how important an individual the boy there is becoming. But,” he went on, “you were expecting this summons, my lad, and now as it happens you will be able to act as additional escort to our guest—that is, if he will permit.”
“Permit!” cried the King. “I shall be glad to have our young friend’s company—glad indeed.” And as he spoke Sir John gazed musingly at the sparkling ring which his guest wore, one which flashed in the light of the candles as Francis made a gesture with his hand.
A few minutes later Ned Carrbroke glanced at his father, and then rose from his chair, making a sign to Denis as he did so.
“Come,” he said quietly, as the two lads moved to the door and passed out. “It was in my mind before, and now it has happened just as I would have wished. I shall come with you.”
“Yes,” answered Denis. “I am glad.”
“I shall be able to show you much,” the other went on. “You have never seen a Court; I shall be able to introduce you to that of our King.”
“Well,” said Denis hesitatingly, “I have been to Fontainebleau.”
“Fontainebleau? Where’s that?”