But there was stern work awaiting him, for he would not, he could not believe that their escape could be as easy as it seemed. The corridor leading to the great gallery near the King's apartment appeared perfectly deserted; neither guard nor gentleman in attendance seemed at hand to hinder their approach to the arras which hid the secret door. But he did not believe and he would not trust so impossible a state of things. Stopping suddenly close up to the panelled wall, he signed to Saint Simon to close up. "Take the King's arm," he said; "he needs support. I am going forward. If you can make me out and the signal I give, follow quickly on. But wait till I raise my hand." He walked swiftly on, almost gliding like a shadow over the wall, for his footsteps made no sound, while as he passed one candle which gave out a feeble light a curious gleam flashed from one of his eyes. The next moment he was past, and right in the King's gallery, still without seeing anything to hinder his signalling to Saint Simon, and reaching safely the spot opposite to the secret door. "If I were alone," he thought, "I have but to cross here, pass behind the arras, make my way to the riverside, and then somehow I could, I would, reach France, with my country the richer for this night's work. But there is the King," he muttered softly; "there is the King." And he pressed himself back against the tapestry, looking in his sombre garb, in the faint light of the great place, like one of the needlework figures in the hangings. But his heart was beating fast, for all at once and quite unexpected there was the sound of footsteps, so slow and measured that he knew they must be those of a sentry; and the next minute a tall figure, dimly seen, came in his measured way along the gallery, as if to pass him, while Leoni's hand slowly glided towards the hilt of his sword and clutched it fast. He held his breath and nerved himself for the cat-like leap he was prepared to make as the sentinel came abreast, for he felt that it was impossible that the man could pass him without his being seen. But to the watcher's intense astonishment the sentry stopped short in the centre of the gallery, when he was about a dozen yards away, turned upon his heel, and began to retrace his steps. Leoni on the instant judged that the man had come to the end of his beat, and if this were so the task seemed easy, for by seizing the minute when his back was turned and he was at the full extent of his monotonous tramp in the other direction, it seemed to the doctor that it would be easy to step across the gallery, raise the arras, and pass into the secret way. "One at a time," muttered Leoni; "one at a time. Easy for us; but can I make my chief piece obey me and move alone?"