"That I won't!" cried the King. "Either in disguise or out of it. Bah! Pish! The idea is absurd. Go as your servant! Are you growing into your dotage, man?" The two young men exchanged glances, brothers once again in combination against their rival for the King's favour, who seemed to be coming to the front and leaving them behind. "Pardon me, Sire," said the doctor humbly. "I proposed that, as it seemed an easy way to achieve your ends." "I would sooner give up the project, Master Leoni," said the King haughtily. "Propose something else." The doctor spread his hands apart in the most self-abasing way, but the King was not appeased. "Picture me, the eldest son of Holy Church, His Most Christian Majesty, masquerading as the servant of a leech! Have a care, Master Leoni. You have a way of handling a lancet and letting your patients' blood. Recollect that kings have a way too of treating patients so that they never bleed again." "I am your Majesty's humble slave," said Leoni, in low, deprecating tones; but Denis noticed that there was no humility in the half veiled eyes as they were lowered to the ground; "You are forgiven," said the King. "But have a care. By the Faith! It brought the blood hotly to my eyes! Now then, speak again. In what habit shall I go?" There was silence in the chamber, broken the next moment by the impatient trampling of the monarch's feet as he paced up and down, while for a time nobody ventured to speak. And then in his excitement lest he should be supplanted, it was Denis who sprang into the gap. "I have a plan, Sire," he cried. "Go as a powerful French noble, travelling to see the Courts of Europe, and--and--" "Yes, go on, boy. That notion likes me well." "Your Majesty might take me as your esquire, or page," added the boy, trembling lest he should have brought his master's wrath down burning upon his head. "Hah!" shouted the King, and for a moment the boy's heart sank, for the King's hand came down upon his shoulder in a painful grip; but the next moment the sinking heart rose with a bound, his eyes flashed with excitement, and for the life of him he could not keep from darting triumphant glances at his fellow-courtiers. "There, Master Leoni! There, Saint Simon! Who dares tell me we haven't got a young Solomon of wisdom in our Court? Hear him! That's the very idea I had in my own breast, only I couldn't think it then. Yes, Denis, that's the plan, and we will go at once." "But your Majesty will want other followers," cried Saint Simon excitedly. "I could--" "Select a score of quarrelsome, fiery young blades like yourself, to pick quarrels with the English courtiers and spoil our plans? No, sir; that will never do." "Oh!" groaned the young man, so despairingly that the King laughed merrily. "Well, you're not a bad fellow, Saint Simon, and I might get into some trouble and want the help of your sword as well as my own. Denis, boy, shall we take him with us?"