in my chamberlain and others of
my people to witness your surrender, but I will spare the feelings of a
brother monarch who is completely in my hands. Your signature, Sire,
will suffice." And as he spoke he took up and dipped a pen and seized a
book, to bear them in company with the paper he held to the side of the
bed, where he spread the paper upon the work.

"Now, Sire," he continued, "at this moment we are enemies. Take this
pen and add your royal name where I will place my finger, and I give you
my kingly word that I will wipe out from the tablets of my memory the
whole of your dastardly action, and become henceforth not only your
brother of England, but your willing ally against all enemies who may
rise up in an endeavour to imperil our thrones. There, Sire; I presume
you are not too weak to write. Come: take the pen."

Denis, who was now nearly at his wits' end how to continue the comedy,
and beginning to flinch in his dismay at having gone so far, raised his
hand slowly and closed his fingers upon the pen, while with a sigh of
satisfaction Henry placed his index finger, upon which a large gem was
glittering, upon the blank spot beneath that which he had written upon
the paper.

"Stop!" he cried suddenly. "I had forgotten. It is not written down
there, but for it I will take your kingly word. You promise me to
restore the jewel reft from my cabinet and hidden somewhere you best
know where. Surely you can speak enough for this--the fewest words will
do. You promise by your kingly word and all that is holy to restore
that gem?"

He ceased speaking, and to one of those present the silence in that room
seemed more than awful, till Henry spoke again.

"You hear me, sir? One word will do, and that word, Yes."

The answer made Henry start back in amaze, for, desperate now, and
nerving himself to meet the crisis which might mean the sacrifice of his
life, Denis with a quick flick of his fingers sent the fully feathered
pen flying from the gloom of the hangings where he lay far out into the
room.

"What!" roared Henry. "You refuse?"

"I refuse," said Denis, in a hoarse whisper.

"But why?" cried Henry, half suffocated by his anger.

"Because," cried the boy defiantly, "I am not the King." And with a
quick movement he threw back the coverlet, sprang from the bed, and tore
off his bandages, to stand there in the full light in white shirt and
trunk hose, scattering the wrappings which had disfigured