"How?" asked Gonzague.
The hunchback laughed dryly. "That is my secret. Paris cannot hold any
mystery from me."
Gonzague questioned again: "Is it to your interest that Lagardere should
die?"
"Indeed, yes," the hunchback answered. "Has he not sworn to kill every
man who attacked Nevers that night? Has he not kept his word well? I am
the last that is left--I and Monsieur Peyrolles, for, of course, I except
your Excellence. I promise you I will find him, but I shall need help."
"Help?" Gonzague echoed.
The hunchback nodded. "He is a dangerous fellow, this Lagardere, as six
of us have found to our cost. Are there not two of our number newly in
your highness's service?"
"Cocardasse and Passepoil," Peyrolles explained.
The hunchback rubbed his hands. "The very men. Will your highness place
them under my orders?"
"By all means," Gonzague answered, and, turning to Peyrolles, he said:
"They are in the antechamber; bring them in."
Peyrolles turned to obey, when the hunchback delayed him with a gesture.
"Your pardon, highness," he said; "but I think there is another service I
can render you to-day."
"Another service?" Gonzague repeated, looking at the hunchback with some
surprise.
The hunchback explained: "Your highness, as I understand, has summoned
for this afternoon a small family council, ostensibly for the purpose of
considering the position of affairs between madame the princess and
yourself."
The hunchback paused. Gonzague nodded, but said nothing, and the
hunchback resumed: "Your real purpose, however, as I understand, is to
present to that council the young lady, the daughter of Nevers, whom I
have been fortunate enough to discover in Spain. You wish this discovery
to come as a surprise to madame the princess."
Still Gonzague nodded, still Gonzague kept silence.
"I believe that you have requested madame the princess to attend this
family council, and that up to the present you have not succeeded in
obtaining her assent."
"That is so," said Gonzague.
"I was about to suggest," the hunchback went on, "if your highness will
permit me, that you should employ me as your ambassador to madame the
princess. I believe I could persuade her to be present at the family
gathering."
Gonzague looked at the man in astonishment. "What persuasions could you
employ," he asked, "which would be likely to succeed where mine have
failed?"
Again Æsop made an apologetic gesture as he pleaded his former excuse.
"That is my secret," he repeated; "but, prince, if you employ me you must
let me attain my ends by my own means, so long as you find that those
ends give you satisfaction and are of service to your purposes. Though I
am by no means"--here he laughed a little, bitter laugh--"an attractive
person, I believe I have a keen wit, and I think I have a clever tongue,
thanks to which I have often succeeded in difficult enterprises where
others have failed ignominiously--at least, it will be no harm to try."
"Certainly," Gonzague agreed, "it will be no harm to try. If the princess
persists, I could, of course, in the end compel her by a direct order
from the king himself, who is good enough to honor us with his presence
to-day."
"But," the hunchback interrupted, "it would be far more agreeable to you
if the princess could be induced to come of her own accord?"
"Certainly," Gonzague agreed.
"Then," said the hunchback, "have I permission to approach madame the
princess and endeavor to persuade her to act in conformity to your
wishes?"
"You have," said Gonzague, decisively. Something in the hunchback's
manner attracted him. The suggestion of mysterious influences appealed to
his Italian spirit, and the confidence of the hunchback inspired him
with confidence. He pointed to the curtained alcove.
"Madame the princess," he said, gravely, "comes every day at this hour to
spend some moments in contemplation and in prayer beside the picture of
her former husband. That alcove shrines his sword. By virtue of a mutual
understanding, this room is always left empty daily at this same time,
that madame the princess may fulfil her pious duty untroubled by the
sight of any who might be displeasing to her."
Here Gonzague sighed profoundly and summoned to his face the expression
of a much-wronged, grievously misappreciated man. After an interval,
which the hunchback silently respected, Gonzague resumed:
"If she were to find you here the princess might be, would be, pained;
but if, indeed, you think you have any arguments that would serve to
influence her mind, you could explain your presence as owing to ignorance
due to the newness of your service here."
Æsop nodded sagaciously. "I understand," he said. "Leave it to me. And
now if your highness will place those two fellows at my disposal, I will
give them their instructions."
The prince rose and turned to Peyrolles. "Send the men to Master Æsop,"
he commanded.
Peyrolles went to the door of the antechamber, and returned in an instant
with Cocardasse and Passepoil, now both gorgeously dressed in an
extravagantly modish manner, which became them, if possible, less than
their previous rags and tatters. Both men saluted Gonzague profoundly,
and both started at seeing the hunchback standing apart from them with
averted face.
Gonzague pointed to the hunchback. "Obey Master Æsop, gentlemen, as you
would obey me." The two bravos bowed respectfully. Gonzague turned to the
hunchback and spoke in a lower tone: "Find this Lagardere for me, and we
will soon break his invincible sword."
"How?" the hunchback questioned, with a faint note of irony in his
voice.
Gonzague continued: "By the hands of the hang-man, Master Æsop. Do your
best. Those who serve me well serve themselves."