He walked on dreamily, and then started, for he found that he had unconsciously drawn near to Francis's chamber, and he hesitated, half disposed to go in and see how he fared; but he frowned and went on. "No," he said, "I have my own head to think of, and my movements may be misconstrued by the most jealous man that ever sat upon a throne." He was passing slowly on in the gloomiest part by the door, when he started, for some one had silently glided out of the opening and plucked him by the sleeve. "My lord," whispered a voice. "Ah!" exclaimed Hurst. "You are the doctor, the Comte's follower with the strange eye. What of your master? How is he now?" "Bad," said Leoni softly. "So much the better," said Hurst bitterly. "Insensible?" "At times, my lord." "Better still." "You speak strangely, my lord." "These are strange times, my man. I spoke so out of sympathy with your master. It may save him further pain." "Further pain?" said Leoni, earning the chamberlain's term of the man "with the strange eye" by the peculiarly fixed look which was dimly seen. "Yes, further pain. People who are insensible do not suffer, do they, doctor?" "No, my lord; but what do you mean?" "What is the meed of a thief who robs a king? Is it not death?" cried Hurst fiercely; and as he spoke he stretched out one hand and tapped it sharply with the folded warrant that he held. "Hah!" ejaculated Leoni harshly, and then almost as fiercely as the chamberlain he whispered, "Would he dare to raise his hand against the ambassador of France?" "No, sir," said the chamberlain coldly, "but against the thief of the night, who abused his hospitality that he might steal. Hark ye, man; if you have your master's interest at heart, tell him to try to make his peace with the King by telling him where the jewel lies, for it must be somewhere concealed. Let him give it up and crave the King's mercy, before it is too late. Do this, and it may save your life as well." He turned away, leaving Leoni standing motionless a short distance from the door, where he remained without stirring until the chamberlain's footsteps had died away. CHAPTER FORTY. A BOY'S RUSE. The doctor lost no time in thought, but returned to the outer apartment which he had quitted only a few minutes before, to find that Saint Simon had joined Denis and was watching by the bed where Francis lay insensible. "We must act at once," he said, as they joined him and he gazed at a narrow window through which the moonlight came. "Our King is in danger of his life." Denis's hand went to his sword. "We will fight to the last," he said, "and die." "Boy!" exclaimed Leoni contemptuously. "Fight and die! Better act with craft and live. What! Would you fight an army? Bah! It is not by that means that we can save his Majesty from this perilous pass." "Then how?" asked Denis. "Order me to do anything and I will obey."