“Yes, yes.”
“Then come, sir.” And Leoni snatched the cloak which Denis had thrown on a chair and wrapped it round the King. “We will start at once, sir.”
“Yes,” said Francis, “we will start at once—at once.” And he leaned heavily on Leoni’s arm, while the latter drew the heavily plumed hat which the boy handed him lower over the King’s features.
Denis accompanied them to the door.
“Farewell,” he said.
Leoni turned and gazed at him, and for a second the saturnine expression faded and a look of tenderness came over his features.
“Until we meet again,” he whispered.
Then the door closed and the lad stood wondering whether the plan would succeed, whether the King would on the morrow be far on his way to the sea.
The next minute he was in the inner chamber by a mirror, smiling at himself, before plunging into the King’s place, turning on his side, and drawing the coverlet right up to his ears.