ady if wanted, and for France."

Saint Simon was one who thought little and said less. They had had an
exciting charge, mastered those who opposed them, behaved like gentlemen
of France, and that was enough.

But as Denis galloped on with the wind coming cool and pleasant to
cheeks fevered by the excitement that he had passed through, picture
after picture flitted through his brain, dominated by that in the stable
entry when he had felt his rapier glide through his adversary's neck.

Had he killed this man? something seemed to ask him again and again.

Then came the strong feeling of dissatisfaction as imaginary pictures
took the others' place, illustrating the breaking open of the cabinet
and the stealing of the jewel--imaginary so far as he was concerned, for
no communication as to this having been accomplished had been made to
him. But he took it all for granted, and though he had taken no active
part in the theft--for theft his conscience persisted in calling it--the
base action pressed upon him more and more, in spite of his combating it
with declarations that it was an act of warfare to regain the King's
own, and that it was for France.

At last as they galloped on with their horses following their natural
instinct and keeping closely together as in a knot, the trouble, the
worry became almost unbearable.

"Oh, if something fresh would only happen--something exciting!" Denis
muttered. "I could then bear it better."

At last a thought flashed through his brain, and he started, rose a
little in his stirrups, and began looking about him.

"Are we going right?" he said to himself, and he looked straight ahead
now--beyond Francis, who was slightly in advance, he being on the King's
left, while Leoni's horse galloped level with his own, the beautiful
animal's head being almost within touch of the King's saddle upon the
right.

But all was dark and cloudy, and he could make out nothing.

"The King leads," he muttered, "and what the King does is right."

Thinking this to himself, Denis rode on, perfectly unconscious of the
fact that he who rode on his right was vastly troubled too, and
regardless of everything else kept one eye fixed upon his liege, for he
had noticed that Francis was not riding according to his wont.

He was generally upright in his saddle, and he had never seen him bend
low before like this.

At first he comforted himself with the thought that it was all due to
excitement and the drea