"Perhaps gaining it, my dear Saint Simon," was the reply. "Youth is rash; age is cautious. Our progress must be slow and sure." He took and pressed the young man's hands as he spoke, before leaving him to take a few strides for observation along the path, and then returning, musing to himself that all seemed too easy, and that at any moment there might be some sudden check to their progress. Back once more, he bade his two companions follow, leading them slowly and cautiously on, sword in one hand, stiletto in the other, as advance-guard, Saint Simon, similarly prepared, forming the rear; and then on and on they went downward through the bushes, which ever and again brushed against their sleeves, and twice over startled and arrested by a sudden dash as of an enemy; but it was nothing worse than a startled bird, blackbird or thrush, roused from its roosting sleep by the disturbers of its rest. And so downward along the winding, well-marked paths, with nothing to hinder their progress, no guards to arrest, and Leoni strong in the belief that some great check must come, settling in his mind that the encounter would be down by the landing-place when they tried to set free the boat. In this belief when they were nearly there he stopped short, laid his hand upon the King's shoulder to press him aside, and whispered to Saint Simon to join him in the front. "There may be watchers there," he said. "Be well on the alert." The next minute as they moved forward the head of the stone steps was reached, lying in the darkness of the clouded night nearly hidden by a great overhanging willow, whose pensile twigs brushed the roof of the waterside summer-house supported upon slimy water-worn piles, to one of which the boat-chain was attached, the rusty iron creaking faintly against the ring-bolt as the skiff swung softly to and fro, influenced by the swift stream. "Hah!" sighed Leoni to himself. "Fate is with us yet. Who says our mission is unrighteous?" And a feeling of exultation rose within his breast, only to be crushed-down directly after by what seemed to be a heavy weight of misery, beyond which he seemed to see the reproachful eyes of the King's esquire, sacrificed that he might succeed. "Into it and unloose the chain, boy," whispered Leoni, eager by action to change the current of his thoughts. Saint Simon quickly sheathed sword and dagger as he stood on the lowest step and reached out to draw in the boat, into which he stepped, making the chain rattle as he drew it through the ring, and his leaden utter an impatient: "Hist!" The next minute the freed boat was grinding against the step, and Leoni steadied it by planting a foot upon its side. "Now, boy," he whispered, "seat yourself, and be ready with the oars-- good! Now rest one on the step here and keep the boat steady.--Quick, sir! Step in, and sit down at once."