“Well,” said the King, smiling; “I am right. I believe you would either of you die to save me, and without saying word.”
The pair drew back, smiling and satisfied, each glancing at the doctor as much as to say, Do you hear that?
“There,” said the King, “I trust you all; so now go on, Leoni, and say what you have to say; and, boys, mind this; we are in secret conclave now. There must be no chattering afterwards, or discussion.”
“Your Majesty commands,” said the doctor gravely. “Shall I continue from where we left off yesterday?”
“No; let’s have it all again. My gallop yesterday through the forest gave me so much to do in managing a fiery horse and keeping him from breaking my neck amongst the boughs as he carried me into so many real dangers, that all your imaginary notions were swept away. Let’s have it all again.”
The doctor bowed.
“It will save me,” said the King, “from making only a half confidence to my young friends here. But be brief. Put it if you can into a few words. You in your studies and porings over black books are convinced—of what?”
“That your Majesty’s throne and succession—”
“Well, really, Leoni, I don’t know that I care much about the succession. But my throne is not a safe seat unless—”
“Unless, your Majesty, that half sacred mystic balas ruby that was carried off by Henry of England is brought back and restored to its place in the French Crown.”