Gonzague brought his palms together silently in silent applause.
"Excellent Æsop! Where is Peyrolles?" he asked.
The hunchback paused for a moment before replying. "He sends his excuses.
The events of the night have upset him. But I think he will be with you
soon."
The indisposition of Peyrolles did not seem to affect his master very
profoundly. What, indeed, did it matter at such a moment to a man who
knew that his great enemy was harmless at last and that his own plans and
ambitions were safe? Gonzague came nearer to the hunchback.
"Æsop, there is no doubt that Lagardere's girl is Nevers's daughter. She
has his features, his eyes, his hair. Her mother would recognize her in a
moment if she saw her, but--"
He paused, and the hunchback repeated his last word interrogatively:
"But--?"
Gonzague smiled, not enigmatically. "She never will see her. Nevers's
daughter is not destined to live long."
Well at ease now, and more than ever in the mood for joyous company,
Gonzague turned to re-enter the supper-room, but the hunchback clawed at
him and brought him to a halt. Gonzague stared at his follower in a
bewilderment which the hunchback proceeded partially to enlighten. "You
have forgotten something."
"What?" asked Gonzague, in amazement.
The hunchback made a little, appealing gesture. "Little Æsop wants his
reward."