Chapter Forty Eight.
Leoni’s secret.
The festive days were few before Francis, now the honoured guest of Henry, left Windsor on his return to Fontainebleau, for he was still weak and suffering from his wound; but it was a pleasant time, especially to the King’s esquires, after a little cloud had cleared away and the sun of two young lives once more was shining bright and clear.
It was towards the evening of the day succeeding the events of the last chapter, when Denis caught sight from one of the windows of the King’s gallery of Carrbroke walking in the gardens below, looking moody and strange, while all at once, as if conscious that he was being watched, he glanced up at the window and caught sight of Denis looking out ready to wave his hand.
The English lad frowned, turned his back, and began walking away, while, stung to the heart by his reception, the blood flushed in the French lad’s face, and drawing back from the window he ran along the gallery, to descend into the court, reach the garden, and make his way to that portion of the pleasaunce where he had seen his English friend. It was some time before he could find him, but at last he came suddenly upon him in a secluded portion nearly surrounded by a grey stone wall covered with growing plants.
“Ah, there you are at last!” cried Denis.
Carrbroke turned upon him angrily and clapped his hand to his sword.
“You have come to fight?” he cried. “Well, it is death here to draw. Come out into the park, and I’ll show you how I act towards a thief.”