“Yes, Sire,” said the owner of the name quietly, as if there were no such thing as excitement left in his composition, and instead of being a fighting man he was the most peaceable of souls. “Your Majesty, in the fullness of your confidence, thought you would not need your follower’s services, but I feared that you would, and hence I came. You see, you did.”
“But how—and mounted! How came you here? You bade us farewell at Fontainebleau a week ago.”
“Yes, Sire; a week gave me plenty of time, as you travelled slowly, to get to the port two days earlier than you. I have been well before you all the time.”
“Then that paper!” cried Denis excitedly. “It was you who placed that beneath the King’s trencher at the inn?”
“I did, Master Denis,” said Leoni quietly, “and I think the warning was needed. It would have been safer if his Majesty had taken it to heart, though I feared in his reckless bravery he would laugh at my warning, and so I kept watch and came on in advance.”
“Then you knew that the road was haunted by folk like these?” said the King.
“Yes, Sire; I found that in a forest not far from here they have a gathering place, and are always on the look-out for rich travellers on the way to London. They have spies at the port and at the principal towns to give them warning, and I wonder that you escaped so far without the loss of your horses.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the King sourly. “We should have lost them but for the brave action of young Denis here; but look you, Master Leoni,” he continued sternly, “I gave you my commands to keep watch and ward over my goods and chattels at my palace of Fontainebleau until my return.”
“Your Majesty did,” said Leoni humbly.
“And disobedience to my commands is treason, sir, and the punishment of that is death.”