“No!” shouted the King. “I told you I would go myself.”
“With a powerful following, Sire,” cried Saint Simon, giving Leoni a triumphant look. “Let me choose and lead your bodyguard.”
Denis frowned and set his teeth hard in his annoyance at being passed in the race by his companion; but he brightened directly on hearing the King’s next impatient words:
“Hang your bodyguard! Leoni is right.”
“Yes, Sire,” said that individual, just loud enough for the young man to hear.
“This must be done with guile.”
Denis’s eyes flashed.
“Pardon, Sire,” he cried eagerly. “You might go in disguise.” And the next moment the boy’s heart swelled within his breast, for the King slapped him heartily on the shoulder.
“Good!” he cried. “That’s it! Do you hear, Leoni? That’s the idea: I’ll go in disguise.”
“Sire! It is impossible!” cried the doctor.