As he spoke he bent over the King to draw his cloak about shoulder and throat; but at the first touch of his hands the King started up and caught them fast.
Chapter Forty Five.
The Balas Ruby.
“Who’s this?” cried Francis sharply, and in a much firmer voice. “Hah! You, Leoni?”
“I, M. le Comte.”
“Bah! The Comte! But what is it? Have I been asleep and dreaming? Where are we? What are we doing here?”
“Making for Fontainebleau, sir.”
“Yes, Fontainebleau!” cried the King eagerly. “But like this—in a boat?”