"Ah! That's good. Then take this cup, and down upon your knees and drink King Harry's health, or 'fore Heaven you shall go back to your miserable country marked by an English blade." There was a momentary pause in the room, every eye being centred upon the boy, fascinated as all were and self-forgetful, as they watched for the outcome of the incident. They were not kept waiting long, for the fierce look upon the boy's countenance gave place to a pleasant smile which the Englishman did not read as meant mockingly. He stretched out and took the cup, and the bully returned the smile as he gave his companions a quick nod of the head. "You see, boys," he cried, in his loud bullying voice, "this is the way to teach French monkeys! Now, my mincing young skipjack, God save King Harry!--Malediction!" he roared, as he snatched up his sword, for with a quick motion the boy had emptied the wine-cup full in his face. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. TRAPPED. At the English captain's action his two companions sprang from their chairs and drew their weapons, for Denis had stepped back with his own blade leaping from its scabbard--a movement followed at once by his three companions, who stood on their defence. "Now, boys," raged out Sir Robert. "Hah! The window is open. Ready?" "Yes," came fiercely. "No deep wounds; but prick and make them dance till they reach the window and leap out. I'll tackle this boy." The next moment there was the harsh, grating, rasping, hissing sound of steel edge against steel. "Back, boy!" raged out Francis. "Let me punish this English _canaille_." "No, sir," whispered Leoni sharply. "They are three. Let your servants finish this." "Here's for you!" shouted one of Sir Robert's companions, and they made for the King and his two followers; but they were hindered from crossing swords by Sir Robert, who, stepping back to avoid a sharp thrust delivered by Denis, felt his foot slip upon the wine-moistened polished oaken boards, and in saving himself he came in contact with the table, driving it heavily in his comrades' way, so that the two parties were separated, the centre of the room being taken up by Denis and his adversary. "The unlucky boy!" muttered the King angrily. "Leoni, he is no match for that English bull." "No, sir," said the doctor coolly, as he stood watchful with his blade advanced; "but he can fence a little. Give me place, and I'll see that he does not come to harm."