At this the shouting was renewed, and a man with a lance tried to stab the king; but Billet seized the weapon, tore it from the wielder's grip, and snapped it across his knee.
"No foul play," he said; "only one kind of steel has the right to touch this man: the ax of the executioner! I hear that a King of England had his head cut off by the people whom he betrayed—you ought to know his name, Louis. Don't you forget it."
"'Sh, Billet!" muttered Gilbert.
"Oh, you may say what you like," returned Billet, shaking his head; "this man is going to be tried and doomed as a traitor."
"Yes, a traitor!" yelled a hundred voices; "traitor, traitor!"
Gilbert threw himself in between.
"Fear nothing, sire, and try by some material token to give satisfaction to these mad men."
Taking the physician's hand, the king laid it on his heart.
"You see that I fear nothing," he said; "I received the sacraments this morning. Let them do what they like with me. As for the material sign which you suggest I should display—are you satisfied?"