Then Cocardasse and Passepoil went out through the antechamber, and
Lagardere remained alone with the Three Louis. He rose again and looked
at them each in turn, and his mind was hived with memories as he gazed.
Before Louis de Nevers he thought of those old days in Paris when the
name of the fair and daring duke was on the lips of all men and of all
women, and when he met him for the first time and got his lesson in the
famous thrust, and when he met him for the second and last time in the
moat at Caylus and gave him the pledge of brotherhood. Looking now on the
beautiful, smiling face, Lagardere extended his hand to the painted
cloth, as if he almost hoped that the painted hand could emerge from it
and clasp his again in fellowship, and so looking he renewed the pledge
of brotherhood and silently promised the murdered man a crown of revenge.
He turned to the picture of Louis de Gonzague, and he thought of his
speech in the moat of Caylus with the masked shadow, and of the sudden
murder of Nevers, and of his own assault upon the murderer, and how he
set his mark upon his wrist. The expression on Lagardere's face was cold
and grave and fatal as he studied this picture. If Gonzague could have
seen his face just then he would not have made so merry beyond the folded
doors.
Lagardere turned to the third Louis, the then solemn, the then pale,
Louis of France, and gave him a military salute. "Monseigneur," he
murmured, "you are an honest man and a fine gentleman, and I trust you
cheerfully for my judge to-night." Turning, he advanced to the doors that
shut him off from the noisy folk at supper, and listened for a moment,
with his head against the woodwork, to the revelry beyond, an ironical
smile on his face. Then, as one who recalls himself abruptly to work that
has to be done, he who had been standing straight when he contemplated
the images now stooped again into the crippled form of the hunchback and
shook his hair about his face. Raising his hand, he tapped thrice on a
panel of the doors, then moved slowly down to the centre of the hall. A
moment later the doors parted a little, and Gonzague entered the room,
closing the doors behind him.
He advanced at once to where the hunchback awaited him. "Your news?" he
cried.
The hunchback made a gesture of reassurance. "Sleep in peace. I have
settled Lagardere's business."
Gonzague gave a great sigh of satisfaction. "He is dead?" he questioned.