The disposition was upon the watcher of the sentry to glide back at once to where he had left Saint Simon and the King; but he felt that he must make sure in this crisis of the adventure before he took his next step, and he waited, closely pressed up against the tapestry, looking more than ever like an embroidered figure, as the sentry halted far down the gallery, softened by distance into a mere shadow, turned, and resumed his pacing. The task seemed harder than ever to stand pressed there against the panelling, watching the coming of the stalwart guard, and it took all the doctor's nerve and self-command to stand there so absolutely still of body, while his nerves and thoughts were moving with an intensity that literally thrilled. "Coming towards his death," said Leoni mentally, as the man came on and on, gradually ceasing to be so shadow-like and dim as he advanced. "His life or mine. His life or mine. His life or mine," something within him seemed to keep on saying, till the end of the sentry's beat appeared to be quite over-passed and he was coming nearer, so near that Leoni felt he saw him at last and the crisis was there, when the man stopped, hesitated for a moment, then began pacing back just as before--but not quite, for almost as soon as his back was turned Leoni's command over his nerves and muscles ceased, and he began to glide silently along by the tapestried panels to reach Saint Simon and the King at last. No word was spoken now but the single one "Follow," as Leoni softly took the King's hand and led him over the ground he so lately had traversed, pausing after a time as the trio came within sight of the sentry, and standing close up against the wall, to wait till the man reached his nearest point to the secret door to turn in his automaton-like fashion and begin marching back. Leoni waited till the sentry half covered the distance he had to traverse, and then led the King swiftly and silently till they were nearly opposite the panel door, to pause once more--three shadowy figures now--to wait there during the most crucial time, for the great test was now at hand. Could he trust the King to remain silent till the man turned back--if he did turn back without distinguishing that he was not alone in the gloomy gallery? But Leoni was a man of resource, and to meet this difficulty he bade Saint Simon lie down at full-length close to the wall, while he pressed the King behind the pedestal of a statue standing in a niche a few yards away. It was a great risk, but the King seemed plunged in a deep sleep, and at a time like that something had to be risked. It was the daring of the plan that carried it through, and the fact that the sentry's perceptions were dulled by habit. Hence it was that he came on, gazing introspectively and seeing nothing but his own thoughts, which were of the near approaching time when he would be relieved, and return to the guard chamber, supper, and sleep.