“There,” he said, indicating a spot on the brow of the precipice, “you could not find in all Scotland a better vantage-point for a flight.”
“With a wild scream Farini endeavoured to support himself with his gauze-like wings.”
The terrified man stood for a moment on the verge of the appalling precipice; then he gave utterance to a remarkable pronouncement, the import of which was perhaps misunderstood because of the chattering of his teeth.
“Oh, not here, your majesty! Forgive me, and I will confess everything. The gold which I pretended to——”
“Fly, you fool!” cried the French ambassador, pushing the Italian suddenly between the shoulders and launching him into space. With a wild scream Farini endeavoured to support himself with his gauze-like wings, and for a moment seemed to hover in mid-air; but the framework cracked and the victim, whirling head over heels, fell like a plummet to the bottom of the cliff.
“I fear you have been too impetuous with him,” said the king severely, although as his majesty glanced at Sir David Lyndsay the faint suspicion of a wink momentarily obscured his eye,—a temporary veiling of the royal refulgence, which passed unnoticed as every one else was gazing over the cliff at the motionless form of the fallen man.
“I am to blame, sire,” replied the ambassador contritely, “but I think the villain is an impostor, and I could not bear to see your royal indulgence trifled with. However, I am willing to make amends for my imprudence, and if the scoundrel lives, I shall, at my own expense, transport him instantly to France, where he shall have the attendance of the best surgeons the country affords.”
“That is very generous of you,” replied the king.