“What is the meed of a thief who robs a king? Is it not death?” cried Hurst fiercely; and as he spoke he stretched out one hand and tapped it sharply with the folded warrant that he held.
“Hah!” ejaculated Leoni harshly, and then almost as fiercely as the chamberlain he whispered, “Would he dare to raise his hand against the ambassador of France?”
“No, sir,” said the chamberlain coldly, “but against the thief of the night, who abused his hospitality that he might steal. Hark ye, man; if you have your master’s interest at heart, tell him to try to make his peace with the King by telling him where the jewel lies, for it must be somewhere concealed. Let him give it up and crave the King’s mercy, before it is too late. Do this, and it may save your life as well.”
He turned away, leaving Leoni standing motionless a short distance from the door, where he remained without stirring until the chamberlain’s footsteps had died away.
Chapter Forty.
A boy’s ruse.
The doctor lost no time in thought, but returned to the outer apartment which he had quitted only a few minutes before, to find that Saint Simon had joined Denis and was watching by the bed where Francis lay insensible.
“We must act at once,” he said, as they joined him and he gazed at a narrow window through which the moonlight came. “Our King is in danger of his life.”