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"Don't talk like a fool. I expect old Caylus made her. He was a grim old chip, after my own heart, and our widow had no friends. Oh yes; I expect daddy Caylus made her marry Gonzague. What a joke! what an exquisite joke!" Peyrolles replied, with attempted dignity: "You didn't travel all the way from Madrid to talk about my master's marriage, I suppose."
"I have reason to suspect that Lagardere is in Paris. If it be true, he will come too late. The princess will have accepted the gypsy as her child, the mother's voice will have spoken. If Lagardere is in Paris, he and the girl must be found, and once found " The ivory-like face of Peyrolles was quickened with a cunning look. "I have a man who will find him if any one can."
Peyrolles went on: "His highness the Prince de Gonzague is delighted with the girl you have found; she will pass admirably for the girl of Nevers." The seeming Æsop nodded his head and said, quietly: "I am glad to hear it." "The Prince wishes to see you," Peyrolles continued. "The Prince wishes you to enter his service. Master Æsop, Master Æsop, your fortune is made, thanks to me."
Cocardasse laid a whimsical finger to the side of his jolly, tropical nose and grinned impishly. "We know what we know, Monsieur Peyrolles," he said, urbanely.
"Well," said Navailles, eagerly, to Chavernay "well, who was the lady?" Chavernay answered, coolly: "I do not know." At this moment the lean form and yellow face of Monsieur de Peyrolles intruded itself into the group of Gonzague's friends. "Monsieur de Chavernay," he said, "my illustrious master is looking for you. He is with his majesty." "I will join him," Chavernay answered, readily.
Staupitz laughed thickly. "No better blades between here and world's end." He pointed first at his comrades, as if to imply that he spoke allegorically; then he pointed to the row of rapiers dangling against the wall, to prove that he also spoke practically and by the card. "After all," said Peyrolles, "that is the important matter. I come to tell you how to earn your pay."
He saluted the gypsy in what he conceived to be the grand manner. "Can you tell fortunes, pretty one?" The gypsy laughed, and showed good teeth as she did so. "Surely, on the palm or with the cards all ways." "Can you tell your own fortune?" Peyrolles questioned, with a faint tinge of malice in the words.
Æsop grunted: "Well, I knew you at once, if it comes to that, though the time was no shorter." Peyrolles smiled awkwardly. "You haven't changed," he observed. Æsop's eyes travelled with a careful and contemptuous scrutiny over the person of his old employer. "You have. You didn't wear quite such fine clothes when I saw you last, my friend.
In the confusion you will slip between the pair, who will then be left to march off, believing that you are their charge, who will, however, be in the care of these gentlemen. Do you understand?" Cidalise nodded. "Perfectly. And if I do this?" "You may rely upon the generosity of the Prince of Gonzague," Peyrolles answered.
"What a wild-goose chase you sent us all on, I and Staupitz and the others flying into Spain to find Lagardere and the child. The others hunted for him, as I suppose you know, with the results which, also, I suppose you know." Peyrolles nodded feebly. His yellow face was several tinges yellower, his teeth seemed to threaten to chatter, and he looked very unhappy.
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