“Tell his Majesty,” said Francis gravely, “that I am very sensible of his kindness, and that it is my most urgent wish to wait upon him.”
The royal messenger was bowed out, and Francis turned sharply to Leoni.
“Well, Leoni, we are outside the lion’s den at present. Are we to go in?—Don’t!” cried the King angrily.
“My lord!”
“Don’t stare at me like that. I know what you are thinking—that I am afraid.”
“Heaven forbid that I should think such a thing of—”
The King made a gesture, and in a hoarse whisper:
“You were going to say ‘King.’ One might think from your visage that in walking into his palace I was stepping into a lion’s den.—What now, boy? What were you thinking?” he cried, turning sharply to Denis, who had been listening impatiently to his companion’s words.
“Only, sir, that if it be a lion’s den the Comte de la Seine has his sword.”
“To be sure,” said the King.