  I am but an archangel; but for him
I should be pope!”

The King stirred.  The hermit sprang noiselessly to the bedside, and
went down upon his knees, bending over the prostrate form with his knife
uplifted.  The boy stirred again; his eyes came open for an instant, but
there was no speculation in them, they saw nothing; the next moment his
tranquil breathing showed that his sleep was sound once more.