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Updated: June 7, 2025
Well at ease now, and more than ever in the mood for joyous company, Gonzague turned to re-enter the supper-room, but the hunchback clawed at him and brought him to a halt. Gonzague stared at his follower in a bewilderment which the hunchback proceeded partially to enlighten. "You have forgotten something." "What?" asked Gonzague, in amazement. The hunchback made a little, appealing gesture.
"A wonderful wedding. The bride is a beauty, and the bridegroom is Æsop." Navailles looked round over his companions and sighed for the absence of a choice spirit. "How Chavernay would have laughed!" he said. "I wish he were here." "I did not invite Chavernay," Gonzague replied, coldly.
His reflections were interrupted by the opening of a door, and, turning rapidly, he found himself in the presence of a woman clad entirely in black, whom he knew at once, in spite of the ravages that time and an unchanging grief had wrought upon her beauty, to be the Princess de Gonzague, the widow of Nevers.
You should have fine clothes, fellow; they will stimulate your tongue when you come to the wooing. Go to my steward for a wedding-garment. Your bride will be here when you return." The hunchback's bowed head came nearer still to earth in his profound inclination. "You overwhelm me with kindness." Gonzague paused, with his hand on the door, to look at him again.
"Because, thanks to you, I gave the signal agreed upon her husband's motto, 'I am here." The princess clasped her hands. "My God, sire, it is true." "And these papers are in your hands?" the king asked. Lagardere answered, quietly: "They are in the hands of Mademoiselle de Nevers." Gonzague looked triumphantly from Lagardere to the king.
"Except you and me, you were going to say." Peyrolles nodded gloomily. "As Æsop," he said, "has been in Spain all these years hunting Lagardere " "Yes," Gonzague interrupted, "and never finding him." Peyrolles bowed. "True, your highness, but at least up to now he has kept Lagardere on the Spanish side of the frontier, kept Lagardere in peril of his life.
But you wish us to wait for that precise moment because you, and your master, wish it to seem patent to all the world that the deed was done by the Marquis of Caylus on his own ground, to defend his own honor. Once again, we demand hereafter the favor and protection of his highness the Prince of Gonzague." This time Peyrolles needed no pause for reflection.
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."
Æsop spoke, contemptuously: "Peyrolles is a bungler. Leave it to me. I will find Lagardere for you and deal with him as he deserves before an hour has passed." Gonzague caught at his words eagerly. "You promise?" Æsop answered, proudly: "On the word of a hunchback. Before two o'clock I will bring you the news you wish for." Gonzague gave a cry of triumph. "Then ask and have your own reward."
Gonzague addressed the notary: "Have you entered the names of groom and bride?" Master Griveau gave a little, protesting cough. "I do not know them, your highness. I have left blank spaces for the names." Gonzague pointed to Gabrielle, where she sat apart. "The lady is Mademoiselle de Lagardere." Then he turned to the hunchback. "And you, what is your lawful name, Æsop?"
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