Breant eyed the impertinent hunchback with disfavor. "Why should I do you
a favor, Æsop the Second?"
The hunchback explained, gayly: "In the first place, because I am the
guest of his Majesty the King. In the second place, because I am the
confidential devil of his Highness the Prince de Gonzague. But my third
reason is perhaps better."
As he spoke he took a well-filled purse from his pocket and tossed it
lightly from one hand to the other, looking at Breant with a sneering
smile. Breant would have been no true servant of the time if he had not
liked money for the sake of the pleasure that money could give; Breant
would have been no true servant of the time if he had not been always in
want of money. He eyed the purse approvingly, and his manner was more
amiable.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Æsop made his wishes clear. "There is a little lodge yonder in the
darkness at the end of that alley, hard by the small gate that is seldom
used. You know the gate, for you sometimes used to wait in that little
lodge when a late exalted personage chose to walk abroad incognito."