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Instantly Gonzague turned and whispered to Peyrolles: "He must not leave this place alive." And Peyrolles answered, confidently: "He shall not. Every gate is guarded by my spies." The king rose gravely and addressed the assembly. "Let us disperse, friends. What we have seen and heard leaves us in little mood for merrymaking."
Doña Flora will seem the commendable error of my over-zealous heart, and as for the new princess well, even princesses are mortal." Peyrolles had always admired his master, but never perhaps so much as now. "Your Excellency is a man of genius," he said, enthusiastically. Gonzague smiled. "Forethought, my good Peyrolles only forethought. But it would save trouble if the girl were out of the way."
"Well?" he said. Peyrolles looked approval. "I think she'll do. I'll go and find the prince at once." "I will go a little way with you," Æsop said, more perhaps because he thought his company might exasperate the sham grand man than for any other reason.
Peyrolles indulged in the privilege of a faint little laugh at this witticism of his master, but apparently the applause did not please Gonzague, who gave him a gesture of dismissal. "Send the girl to me at once," he said; and with a still more humble salute Peyrolles quitted the apartment. When Gonzague was alone he sat for a few minutes staring before him like one who dreams waking.
"Come with me, Peyrolles," and the prince and his henchman quitted the apartment. The hunchback muttered to himself: "The sword of Lagardere has yet a duty to perform before it be broken." Then he turned to Cocardasse and Passepoil where they stood apart: "Well, friends, do you remember me?" Cocardasse answered him, thoughtfully: "'Tis a long time since we met, Æsop."
How natural that your admirable master should amuse his leisure by visiting the fair, and in so diverting himself be struck by a beautiful gypsy girl's resemblance to the features of his dear dead friend! It is all a romance, friend Peyrolles, and a very good romance. And I, Æsop, made it."
There was no sound of solicitation for his companion's welfare in his words, there was no expression of pleasure on his face as he did so. He took the good wine as he took all bright and kindly things, sourly. Peyrolles hastened to follow the example of his pledge. "Your health," he said, and sipped diffidently at the wine, and then, finding it agreeable, finished it.
The people that kept that evil Inn, the people that served that evil Inn, always left their sinister customers to themselves to kiss or kill, as best pleased them. On the entrance of Monsieur Peyrolles the bravos rose and saluted him ceremoniously.
I tell you, friend Peyrolles, I think I am the best swordsman alive." Peyrolles did not at all like to be hailed as friend in this familiar manner by the hunchback, but he had his reasons for mastering his feelings, and he showed no signs of distaste. Perhaps he had begun to realize that Æsop would not mind in the least if he did manifest displeasure.
"Well, gentlemen," said Gonzague, "I hope and think that I reserved the best for the end." He made a sign to Peyrolles, who approached him. "Where is the girl?" he questioned, in a low voice. Peyrolles pointed to the caravan. "Shall I bring her?" he asked. Gonzague nodded.