"You may rely upon the generosity of the Prince of Gonzague," Peyrolles
answered. If he said little, he looked much, and Cidalise understood him
as she accepted.
"It will be rare sport. Come, gentlemen."
By this time Gabrielle and her companions, having completed their second
circumnavigation of the pond, were going slowly across the open space
again. The crowd was very great about them, the noise and laughter made
everything confused. Gonzague's friends took advantage of the crowd and
the confusion. They huddled around Gabrielle and her escort, laughing and
chattering volubly. They hustled Cocardasse, they hustled Passepoil,
treading on their toes and tweaking their elbows, much to the indignation
of the Gascon and the Norman, each of whom tried angrily and unavailingly
to get hold of one of his nimble tormentors. In the jostling and
confusion, Cidalise slipped neatly between the two bravos, suddenly
abandoned by their plaguers; while Gabrielle, surrounded by the dexterous
gentlemen, was, against her will but very steadily, edged towards a side
alley. Cocardasse and Passepoil, drawing deep breaths such as Io may have
drawn when freed from her gadfly, looked down and saw, as they believed,
Gabrielle standing between them. The seeming Gabrielle moved on, on a
third journey round the Pond of Diana, and her escort accompanied her,
confident that all was well.
In the mean time, Gabrielle was appealing to the gentlemen who surrounded
her. "Gentlemen, stand aside!" she said, in a tone partly of entreaty,
partly of command.
At that moment Peyrolles came to her side and saluted her respectfully.
"Do not be alarmed. We come from him."
Gabrielle stared in amazement at the unfamiliar face.