He walked silently--exulting.
There seemed not many people abroad this morning.

The two had presented an order, obtained through Monsignor Allet, at the gates below the Orange Gardens, and had learned from the sentry that until the afternoon this part of the park was closed to the public.
Here and there, however, in the distance a single figure made its appearance, walking in the shade or hurrying on some errand.
The priests had just come out from the line of trees and had set foot in the avenue itself, when, twenty yards farther up, from the entrance to some other path parallel to their own, a group came out, and an instant later they heard themselves hailed and saw Monsignor Allet himself, in all his purple, hurrying towards them.
"You are the very men," he cried, again stretching out his hands in a welcoming French gesture.

"His Majesty was speaking of you not five minutes ago.

He is here, in the garden.

Shall I present you now ?" Father Jervis glanced at his friend.
"His Majesty is very kind----" he began.
"Not a word more! If you will follow me and wait an instant at the entrance, I will speak with His Majesty and bring you in." "I have not my ferraiuola---" began Monsignor.
"The King will excuse travellers," smiled the Frenchman.
The entrance to the "King's Garden" on this side passes beneath an arch of yew, and here the two waited.
Somewhere beyond the green walls they could hear talking, and now and again a burst of laughter.