“I do; and I remember too that your plot has failed.”
“But it has not failed, Sire,” cried Leoni, rising now; and as he stood erect there was a look of triumph in his face which gave him, as it were, a reflection of the kingly majesty before which he stood. “It has not failed, but ended in triumph and success.”
“What!” cried the King fiercely. “You speak in riddles. Tell me what you mean.”
He seemed to tower over his follower, who, apparently humbled, crouched before him with lowered head and outstretched deprecating hands, with which he covered his face as if asking mercy. But the next moment he sprang up once more, just as the King angrily repeated himself:
“Not failed!” he cried. “Tell me what you mean?”
For answer Leoni threw back his head and held one hand on high full in the light of the moon, which flashed and scintillated from the many facets of a brilliant gem.
“Hah!” cried the King excitedly. “What have you there?”
“That which we came to seek, Sire. The Balas ruby—the fateful gem of France!”