“I don’t know, Sir Robert. We were told to get them ready,” said the man humbly.
“Ah, but this must be inquired into. There’s something wrong here, I feel sure.”
“Take no notice of this man,” cried Denis, forgetting in his excitement that he must speak in English, however bad, if he wished the grooms to understand, and addressing them excitedly in French.
“Bah!” cried Sir Robert, in his most bullying tones. “Take no notice of the fellow’s jabber. I order you not to let these horses go without the permission of the chamberlain or the King’s Master of the Horse.”
“But they are the gentlemen’s own horses, Sir Robert,” said the man quietly, “and not the King’s.”
“I don’t care,” cried the officer. “The rules are, as I know well, that no horses shall leave here without special orders after dark.”
Denis grasped every word that was said, and stood literally trembling with excitement, anticipating as he did that at any moment his friends might arrive, when there would be a discovery of the attempted flight, and all would be over.
In his desperation, just as his heart seemed sinking to the lowest ebb, Leoni’s words recurred to him. He had used the gold, while now, as the doctor had told him, he had his sword; and at this thought he drew in his breath through his teeth with a sharp low hiss.
“You hear!” cried Sir Robert sharply. “These horses are not to leave the stable till I return with some one in authority who shall decide what is to be done. You understand me? On your lives, obey!”
He swung round to stride out of the building, and then started with surprise, for the young esquire’s rapier flashed out sharply in the dull light of the lanterns, as he drew and cried sternly: