le he escapes, and personating him as he lies
here bandaged, his face half hidden in the shadows of the heavy hangings
of the bed in this darkened room."

"I am ready," said Saint Simon huskily.

"And I!" cried Denis. "But--the Comte?"

"I have thought of that," said Leoni. "He is too ill to understand what
is done, and I can mould him to my wishes in every way. We are free, as
his servants, to come and go from the chamber, and there may be ways by
which we can escape--three of us--that is, the Comte and two followers,
while one brave devotee assumes his master's aspect as a wounded man.
It may be days before the discovery takes place, and by that time all
may be safe. Denis, boy, will you do this thing and be for the time
being the simulacrum of him we serve? Good: your face speaks. I knew
it. It is not a question of likeness, but of wearing a heavy bandage
that will nearly hide your face."

There was silence for a moment, and then Leoni spoke again.

"What about the way?" he said. "It is night now, but if we could gain
the grounds--but how?"

"The secret passage, sir," whispered Denis. "It availed once, why not
again?"

"The passage!" cried Leoni. "No; once used, they will guard it safely
now. But stop; they do not know that we escaped that way, and it might
prove as sure an exit as it did before. I have seen no guard in that
corridor since our return."

"Nor I," said Denis eagerly.

"But how to pass the gates?" said Leoni thoughtfully.

"There is no need," cried Denis. "Follow the narrow alley leading
downward to the river, and take the boat of which young Carrbroke spoke.
The river! Surely you could escape that way."

"Boy," whispered Leoni ecstatically, "you are the deliverer of France!
Hah!" he added, in tones full of regret. "And you will not be with us!
The river--yes. They would never dream that we escaped that way.
Quick, then. There is not a moment to be lost. You will not flinch?"

"I? No!" whispered Denis proudly.

"Quick, then! The darkness is the best disguise." And leading the way
into the sleeping chamber, he busied himself with torn-up linen and
scarf, preparing the semblance of bandages, while Denis unbuckled his
sword-belt and hurriedly threw off his doublet.

A few minutes sufficed for the skilful hands of Leoni to strap and
bandage the gallant lad's features, leaving him standing on one side of
the bed while he went to the other to draw back the coverlet.

In