  And still
muttering, he approached the King and said impressively--

“‘Sh!  I will tell you a secret!”  He bent down to impart it, but
checked himself, and assumed a listening attitude.  After a moment
or two he went on tiptoe to the window-opening, put his head out, and
peered around in the gloaming, then came tiptoeing back again, put his
face close down to the King’s, and whispered--

“I am an archangel!”

The King started violently, and said to himself, “Would God I were with
the outlaws again; for lo, now am I the prisoner of a madman!”  His
apprehensions were heightened, and they showed plainly in his face.