The floor was made slippery by the wine which bedewed the boards, but before the encounter had lasted a minute there were other drops which added to the peril; for Denis’s thin blade had passed along the fleshiest part of the English captain’s ribs, and raging now with passion and pain as he felt the sting, he fought furiously, forcing Leoni to do more than guard the boy, whose strength was utterly failing; and interposing now, he literally took the Englishman’s blade to his own, beat upon it heavily, and the next moment sent it flying through the open window, out of which he was to have been made to jump.
Uttering a yell of fury, Sir Robert snatched the dagger from his waist, and regardless of the danger, sprang with a yell at Denis, when the door was suddenly flung open and an officer of halberdiers stepped in, backed up by about a dozen followers, whose approach had been unheard, while about a score more could be seen forming up through the window, their great steal spears with their battle-axe blades glittering in the ruddy evening sun.
As if moved by one impulse, everyone within the room lowered his blade, while the King, taking in his position at a glance, and placing his own interpretation thereon, ejaculated angrily the one word:
“Trapped!”
Chapter Twenty Two.
What Denis thought.
“Sir Robert! Gentlemen!” cried the officer in command of the halberdiers. “What does this mean?”
“Can’t you see?” growled Sir Robert angrily. “Fighting. Chastising a pack of insolent musicians, dancing masters, or whatever they are, who insulted us.”