y life, I love the least to think of this, and whether it were
the act of a man or a traitor I will not ask. I said to myself: "It is
war--and the King's life is the stake." And I raised myself from beneath
the pipe and stood up by the boat, which lay moored by the ledge.
Holding my breath, I marked the spot and raised my arm. The great fellow
stirred. He opened his eyes--wide, wider. He grasped in terror at my
face and clutched at his rifle. I struck home. And I heard the chorus of
a love-song from the opposite bank.

Leaving him where he lay, a huddled mass, I turned to "Jacob's Ladder."
My time was short. This fellow's turn of watching might be over
directly, and relief would come. Leaning over the pipe, I examined it,
from the end near the water to the topmost extremity where it passed, or
seemed to pass, through the masonry of the wall. There was no break
in it, no chink. Dropping on my knees, I tested the under side. And
my breath went quick and fast, for on this lower side, where the pipe
should have clung close to the masonry, there was a gleam of light! That
light must come from the cell of the King! I set my shoulder against the
pipe and exerted my strength. The chink widened a very, very little,
and hastily I desisted; I had done enough to show that the pipe was not
fixed in the masonry at the lower side.

Then I heard a voice--a harsh, grating voice:

"Well, sire, if you have had enough of my society, I will leave you to
repose; but I must fasten the little ornaments first."

It was Detchard! I caught the English accent in a moment.

"Have you anything to ask, sire, before we part?"

The King's voice followed. It was his, though it was faint and
hollow--different from the merry tones I had heard in the glades of the
forest.

"Pray my brother," said the King, "to kill me. I am dying by inches
here."

"The duke does not desire your death, sire--yet," sneered Detchard;
"when he does behold your path to heaven!"

The King answered:

"So be it! And now, if your orders allow it, pray leave me."

"May you dream of paradise!" said the ruffian.

The light disappeared. I heard the bolts of the door run home. And then
I heard the sobs of the King. He was alone, as he thought. Who dares
mock at him?

I did not venture to speak to him. The risk of some exclamation escaping
him in surprise was too great. I dared do nothing that night; and my
task now was to get myself away in safety, and to carry off the c