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Updated: June 9, 2025
But Chavernay did not seem to be discomfited, and seemed inclined to doubt the tidings. "Dead?" he said. "Why, he wrote to me to meet him here at two o'clock." As he spoke he drew from his breast a folded piece of paper and extended it to Gonzague, who took it with a reluctance, even with a repugnance, which he controlled because it was so clearly unreasonable.
"Impossible," he protested. "Let me present myself. I am the Marquis de Chavernay. I am very diverting. I can make love to more ladies at the same time than any gentleman of my age at court." Flora laughed.
After these again came Gonzague's own little tail of partisans, Navailles and Nocé, Taranne and Oriol, Choisy and Gironne, Albret and Montaubert, with Chavernay fluttering about them like an impudent butterfly, laughing at them, laughing at his august cousin, laughing at the king, laughing at himself laughing at everything.
Gonzague nodded, and the hunchback advanced to the door of the antechamber. Chavernay looked after him with haggard eyes. "What spell has the devil got?" he muttered. Gonzague shrugged his shoulders. "I am amazed; but the knave has my faith, and, if the lady's taste limps, shall we say her nay?"
He was familiar with Chavernay's impertinences, for Chavernay had soon discovered that the witticisms which would have gained the frown of the cardinal earned the smiles of the king. "Truly," he said "truly, I do come for an assignation, but it is with no woman. You boys think of nothing in the world but women." Chavernay made the king a most sweeping reverence.
"I swear to you, Henri," she said, softly, "that the man I could love would not be at all like Monsieur de Chavernay." In spite of himself, Lagardere gave a sigh of relief. It was something, at least, to know whom Gabrielle de Nevers could not love. He essayed to laugh, too. "What would he be like," he asked "the wonder whom you would consent to love?"
Even Gonzague's band, hardened by the influence of long association with their master, could not hear that appeal unmoved, though no man among them made any motion of responding to it. Chavernay, however, rested his hand lightly upon his sword-hilt. "Rely on me," he said, boldly. Gonzague looked at him contemptuously. "No heroics, sir.
"Assassin!" he cried, and seemed as if he would take the hunchback by the throat, but Gonzague came between his kinsman and his servant, saying, coldly: "Whoever insults Æsop, insults me. Æsop marries the girl whom Lagardere called Gabrielle de Nevers." Chavernay folded his arms and looked fiercely around him. "Now I know why Lagardere sent for me to defend a helpless woman."
"The man is mad," said Gironne. "There seems a method in his madness," said Chavernay, dryly. Albret interrupted them. "Here comes his majesty." "And, as I live, with the Princess de Gonzague!" Montaubert cried, amazed. Oriol elevated his fat palms. "Wonders will never cease!" All the party bowed respectfully as the king came slowly down the great walk, giving his arm to the Princess de Gonzague.
The king embraced the company in a general salutation and went out, followed by his friends. The lawyers, the ecclesiastics took their leave. Only the friends of Gonzague remained in the room, and they stood apart, eying their master dubiously, uncertain whether he would wish them to go or to stay. Chavernay took it upon himself, with his usual lightness of heart, to play their spokesman.
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