By this time the hunchback had opened the door and introduced to the
company a dapper, affable gentleman who was habited, as became his
calling, for the most part in black; but he lent an air of smartness to
his notarial garb by reason that the black of his coat and breeches was
of silk, and that he wore a quantity of costly lace. This was Master
Griveau, one of the principal notaries of Paris, and a man that had been
employed not a little by the Prince de Gonzague. For this reason his face
was familiar to most of those present, and the faces of most of those
present were familiar to Master Griveau, and Master Griveau nodded and
bowed and smirked and smiled, and showed in a hundred little ways with a
hundred little airs and graces that he was quite the man of the world and
quite at home in fashionable circles. He was accompanied by two of his
clerks, who seemed as anxious to efface themselves as their master was to
assert his personality.
The hunchback patted the notary on the back with a pat that made him give
at the knees and look somewhat ruefully about him as if an earthquake
had occurred, and introduced him to the company: "Here, sirs, is my
Cupid--nay, better than Cupid, for Cupid had no pockets, whereas Maître
Griveau has, and my marriage contract in one of them."
Master Griveau, with the air of one who could take a joke as well as any
man if the joke were proffered in august company, produced a large,
folded paper bound about with green ribbon. He bowed profoundly to
Gonzague. "In accordance," he said, "with monseigneur's instructions, as
conveyed to me by monseigneur's"--he halted for a moment, and then
continued--"Monseigneur's friend, the deed is prepared and ready for
signature. Have I monseigneur's permission to make a few preparations for
the interesting ceremony?"
Gonzague nodded, and the brisk little man, with the aid of his two
clerks, pushed a table into place, arranged writing materials, and,
seating himself with a great air of formality, investigated a quill pen,
spread out his contract, and surveyed the company with the air of one who
should say: "I have done, and done well, all that it becometh me to do;
it is now for you to play your part in this ceremony."
Gonzague addressed the notary: "Have you entered the names of groom and
bride?"
Master Griveau gave a little, protesting cough. "I do not know them, your
highness. I have left blank spaces for the names."
Gonzague pointed to Gabrielle, where she sat apart. "The lady is
Mademoiselle de Lagardere." Then he turned to the hunchback. "And you,
what is your lawful name, Æsop?"
The hunchback made an appeal to Gonzague. "Highness, humor my jest to the
end. I have kept my real name a secret long enough; let me keep it secret
a little longer. Will you and your friends honor me by signing as
witnesses? Then I will fill in the blanks and set down my own name--a
name that will make you laugh."