"It is this," he said at length quietly. "We his followers are free to go where we list, and Francis must be saved. I, alas, can be nothing in my plan; but you," he went on, looking direct at Saint Simon, "or Denis, might save the King."

"How?" exclaimed Denis again, as he firmly met the speaker's peculiar gaze.

Leoni turned from him, walked slowly to the outer door, opened it as if about to pa.s.s out, and then closed it again, to return quickly to his two companions, and whispering softly in so low a voice that it was hard to hear:

"By taking his place while he escapes, and personating him as he lies here bandaged, his face half hidden in the shadows of the heavy hangings of the bed in this darkened room."

"I am ready," said Saint Simon huskily.

"And I!" cried Denis. "But--the Comte?"

"I have thought of that," said Leoni. "He is too ill to understand what is done, and I can mould him to my wishes in every way. We are free, as his servants, to come and go from the chamber, and there may be ways by which we can escape--three of us--that is, the Comte and two followers, while one brave devotee a.s.sumes his master's aspect as a wounded man.

It may be days before the discovery takes place, and by that time all may be safe. Denis, boy, will you do this thing and be for the time being the simulacrum of him we serve? Good: your face speaks. I knew it. It is not a question of likeness, but of wearing a heavy bandage that will nearly hide your face."

There was silence for a moment, and then Leoni spoke again.

"What about the way?" he said. "It is night now, but if we could gain the grounds--but how?"

"The secret pa.s.sage, sir," whispered Denis. "It availed once, why not again?"

"The pa.s.sage!" cried Leoni. "No; once used, they will guard it safely now. But stop; they do not know that we escaped that way, and it might prove as sure an exit as it did before. I have seen no guard in that corridor since our return."

"Nor I," said Denis eagerly.

"But how to pa.s.s the gates?" said Leoni thoughtfully.

"There is no need," cried Denis. "Follow the narrow alley leading downward to the river, and take the boat of which young Carrbroke spoke.

The river! Surely you could escape that way."

"Boy," whispered Leoni ecstatically, "you are the deliverer of France!

Hah!" he added, in tones full of regret. "And you will not be with us!

The river--yes. They would never dream that we escaped that way.

Quick, then. There is not a moment to be lost. You will not flinch?"

"I? No!" whispered Denis proudly.

"Quick, then! The darkness is the best disguise." And leading the way into the sleeping chamber, he busied himself with torn-up linen and scarf, preparing the semblance of bandages, while Denis unbuckled his sword-belt and hurriedly threw off his doublet.

A few minutes sufficed for the skilful hands of Leoni to strap and bandage the gallant lad's features, leaving him standing on one side of the bed while he went to the other to draw back the coverlet.

In obedience to the thought that flashed through his brain the lad bent quickly forward, caught at the King's hand and raised it eagerly to his lips, half rousing him, to mutter in his sleep, while Leoni took out and unscrewed his little flask and applied it to the King's lips.

"Drink this, sir," he said, and in strict obedience to his medical attendant, the sick man drank till the vessel was withdrawn.

"Ah!" exclaimed Francis wearily. "I am not well, Leoni. We pay dearly for our adventure. But we will hunt to-morrow at Fontainebleau. Is it not so? Call the Master of the Chase."

"You may do so, sir. But you feel stronger now?"

"Yes, yes."

"Then come, sir." And Leoni s.n.a.t.c.hed the cloak which Denis had thrown on a chair and wrapped it round the King. "We will start at once, sir."

"Yes," said Francis, "we will start at once--at once." And he leaned heavily on Leoni's arm, while the latter drew the heavily plumed hat which the boy handed him lower over the King's features.

Denis accompanied them to the door.

"Farewell," he said.

Leoni turned and gazed at him, and for a second the saturnine expression faded and a look of tenderness came over his features.

"Until we meet again," he whispered.

Then the door closed and the lad stood wondering whether the plan would succeed, whether the King would on the morrow be far on his way to the sea.

The next minute he was in the inner chamber by a mirror, smiling at himself, before plunging into the King's place, turning on his side, and drawing the coverlet right up to his ears.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

A VISITOR FOR A PATIENT.

The time up to the closing of the chamber door had been one of wild excitement. There was the disguise, and then the scene of preparing Francis for another flight, his helplessness, and the calm, unresisting way in which he had yielded himself to Leoni's hands.

Then came the departure, the farewell of Leoni, whom at times he seemed to shrink from with dislike, almost with dread, but only to feel himself won back again, attracted by the doctor's manner and his manifest liking for his young companion.

Then there was the closing of the door, which seemed to cut the lad off from his friends and leave him, as he threw himself wearily into the bed to lie there alone in the darkness, face to face with a horror which chilled him through and through.

For in his chivalrous excitement which thrilled him with a feeling that he was about to do a most gallant thing in the service of his King, he seemed to have no time to think; but now in the silence and gloom of that solitary inner room, there was time for thought, time for his feelings to be harrowed by the knowledge of what was to come, and as he lay there he began to picture to himself how it would all be.

How soon he knew not, but before long some one would come, miss the King's attendants, inquiry would be made, and possibly the supposed Comte, lying wounded in the bed, would be sharply questioned as to the whereabouts of his doctor and gentlemen.

"What shall I do?" thought Denis. "I must keep up the semblance of being the King. I am supposed to be very ill, and I can pretend to be insensible. That will all gain time if I refuse to speak; and those who come will never for a moment think that the King's attendants have left him helpless here--far less fancy that they have escaped.

"But have they escaped?" thought the lad; and in his excitement the perspiration broke out upon his brow, as he lay wondering whether they had found the private pa.s.sage unfastened and won their way through to the gardens, so as to pa.s.s unnoticed along the alleys and down to the river steps and boat.

"No," he thought. "Impossible. The people here would surely have securely fastened up that way, and the King has been captured; and with such an enemy as Henry what will be his fate?"

For some time he gave these thoughts firm harbour, but at last his common sense prevailed. The idea was absurd, he told himself. If the little party had been seized while making their escape the whole castle would have been in an uproar, full of wild excitement, with the hurrying to and fro of steps, especially the heavy tramp and clash of the guards, instead of which all was horribly still, while the candles burning in a couple of sconces were hidden from his sight by the heavy hangings of the bed, so that he lay there alone in the deep gloom.

There were moments when the shadows cast by the lights seemed to take form and move, making him feel that he could lie there no longer, that he must spring out of bed to face bravely these weird and shadowy forms, and convince himself that he really was alone, and merely a prey to a childish superst.i.tious dread brought about by the horror of his position.

It was hard to bear, and required a heavy call upon his manliness to force back these fancies and prepare himself to play his part when the crucial time came of some one visiting the room and finding that the Comte's attendants were no longer there.

"It is for the King of France!" he muttered, when at last the dread and horror of his position had culminated in a feverish fit that seemed as if it would end by his springing out of bed, tearing off the mockery of his disguise, and hurrying through the outer chamber into the corridor to seek the company of the nearest guards.

"It means hastening the discovery," he muttered, "but I can bear this no longer. It is too much."

He lay panting heavily for some few moments before a reaction came, following quickly upon the one question he asked himself, contained in that one little word: