Leoni hardly breathed as once more he watched the man come on nearer and nearer, apparently to his death, for this time Leoni softly drew the keen stiletto that he wore, and crouched ready to ensure silence and save the King if he were driven to the last extremity. But that was not to be. The man came to the full extent of his paced-out beat, turned, and marched back, while before he was half the distance to the other end the doctor had glided across the gallery, raised the arras, and pressed the boss, fully expecting to find that the door was fast; but it yielded silently, and the doctor's heart leaped as he drew in a long deep breath of cool moist air. Dropping the arras, he stood for a moment gazing after the shadowy sentry, feeling startled to see how far he was still from the end of his beat; and, acting contrary to the mode he had planned in his determination to seize this opportunity if it could be done, he glided swiftly across to where the King was standing, and caught him by the arm. "Come," he whispered, with his lips to Francis's ear, when the King yielded as if he were a portion of the speaker's self, walking with him silently till they were half across the gallery, when all at once a bright light threw up into bold relief the figure of the sentry at the far limit of his tramp, and the two fugitives stood out plainly before Saint Simon like two black silhouettes upon the distant glow. "Lost!" sighed Leoni, as, utterly unnerved, he stood tightly pressing the King's wrist, unable even to stir, but listening to the sounds of voices which came weirdly and whispering along the gallery--challenge, reply, and order of the changing guard. Before recalling the fact that the bearers of the light were hardly likely to discern them at so great a distance, he recovered himself and pressed on towards the door and raised the tapestry, when without word of direction Francis passed through, followed by Leoni, and the arras was dropped. "Saint Simon," muttered the doctor, as without closing the door he led the King onward for about a dozen yards, before returning to the open door with the intention of kneeling down to raise the hangings slightly and watch. "Must I leave him behind--another?" he muttered; and then he started, to clap his hand to his dagger again and prepare to strike, for there was a faint rustling sound from the open door and then the faintest of faint clicks, followed by the expiration of a heavy breath as from one who could contain it no longer. Leoni stood with his arm raised on high and his stiletto pointing downwards. The next moment it had dropped to his side, for from out of the darkness in front there came the whispered words: "Are you there?" "Saint Simon!" cried the doctor, not beneath his breath, for he was too much excited by his surprise to control his emotion, as he stretched out his left hand to grip his follower by the arm. "I did not expect this," he muttered.