“Of course, sir. But what,” cried Denis, with his eyes flashing, “if I already know?”
“Boy!” cried Leoni excitedly; and he caught his young companion by the shoulders, but checked himself, instantly drew back, walked slowly across the room to the door, opened it and looked out, and then came back and signed to Denis to close the window, while he softly moved here and there; and the boy noticed how, as if to examine the beauty of the silken hangings, he touched them again and again, as if to make sure that no listener was concealed behind.
Leoni ended by joining his young companions in the deep embrasure of the window, taking him by the arm, and pressing him towards the diamond panes of the casement as if to draw his attention to something out beyond the terrace and the steep slope below.
“Now,” he said, in a quick whisper, “speak beneath your breath. You know where?”
“In the tall, square-turreted cabinet three parts of the way down the long corridor by the King’s private apartments.”
“Ah, I have not been there, and dared not raise suspicion by asking permission to go. Are you sure?”
“Carrbroke has as good as told me it was there. He spoke of a charm with fateful powers of its own, and that the King held gems as sacred relics.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Leoni softly. “Boy, you make me begin to live.”
“Shall I tell you something more, sir?”
“There can be nothing more that I wish to hear,” whispered Leoni. “Boy, you have filled an empty void. But speak; tell me what more you have to say.”