n vain has come to you without seeking, without thought.
It is fate, boy, fate. The spirit of our great nation is working on our
behalf, and has made you the chosen instrument of our success. We must,
we shall succeed, and through you. Now silence; not another word but
these. I say silence, Denis. It is for our master's sake and for _la
France_."

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE CHAMBERLAIN HAS SUSPICIONS.

Several days passed at the Court in a succession of gaieties including
hunting, an excursion on the river, and at night banquet and dance.
Henry was charmed with the pleasant sprightliness of his guest, whose
lively French manner attracted him more and more. He distinguished
himself in the field and in the chivalrous sports in the Castle Yard.

There were moments when the King looked grim and slightly disposed to be
jealous of the applause given to the Comte, and more than once Lord
Hurst saw his master frown heavily upon seeing how great a favourite
Francis had made himself with the courtiers, who were delighted with the
change the gay Frenchman made in the monotony of their daily life. But
Leoni felt that the luxurious seats he occupied at Windsor were stuffed
with thorns, and that they were placed close to the edge of a mine that
might at any moment explode.

Still the time wore on and the danger seemed as far off as ever, for in
obedience to Leoni's prompting Francis, though often sailing very near
the wind, dexterously gave a turn to the rudder just at the right time,
and the doctor breathed freely once again, while he waited for the
moment when he could put into action one or other of the plans he had
thought out, to get possession of the fateful jewel whose resting-place
he felt he knew, lying as it did, though still distant, almost within
his grasp. For short of gaining entrance to the private corridor where
it lay, and boldly breaking open the cabinet some night, to carry off
the prize, he could not yet see his way.

"That must be the last resource," he said to Denis. "The Comte and I
must exercise subtlety. The knowledge came from you, boy--given to you
by fate; and we must wait longer, even if it be for days. Who knows
but, as she has favoured us so far, fate may place in our hands the
fruit that is ripe to pluck?"

"I wish they'd pluck it or leave it alone," said Denis to himself. "I
hate the whole business. It is very pleasant being here, and Carrbroke
makes himself quite like a broth