SHOWING WHAT GARGANTUA DID AFTER THE BATTLE, AND HOW GRANDGOUSIER
WELCOMED HIM HOME.
[Illustration: Initial W.]
When Gargantua, after the battle, made his triumphant entrance into the
city, it was easy enough for him to find the Palace where Picrochole
had stopped, but not quite so easy to get hold of the King himself. And
when he reached the Palace, he heard that those wicked advisers and
councillors of Picrochole, who had done their best to keep mischief
alive,--Swashbuckler, Durtaille, and Smaltrash,--had all managed to
escape helter-skelter from the city, just six hours _before_ the battle.
Gargantua's first duty was to order a muster of his troops, by which he
learned, much to his satisfaction, that they had not suffered greatly
in the battle, the four soldiers who had been killed happening to
belong to the band of one of his officers, Captain Tolmere. He had the
pleasure of shaking his old master Ponocrates by the hand on his lucky
escape in having his doublet, instead of his portly body, jagged by an
archer's bolt. It was a mild shake, for a hearty one would have made
a jelly of it. The Chief Treasurer was ordered to see that all his
brave followers should be feasted, each with his troop, at the Prince's
expense. He directed, moreover, that, after the feast, the army should
assemble in the great Square before the Palace, and receive a full six
months' pay on the spot.
This being joyfully done, the next order was for the assembling of
all that remained of Picrochole's party. All his princes and captains
being present, Gargantua made a speech, which was as full of wisdom
as it was rich in praise of his good old father, King Grandgousier. He
concluded with these words, spoken in a stern voice:--
"I impose on those who have wickedly attacked us but one condition.
They must deliver into my hands that knave Marquet, who was the
groundwork of this most unjust war."
[Illustration: GARGANTUA'S CAPTIVES.]
Marquet, who had been a great man all during the war, and who had
strutted around, crowing and looking wise, and had been consulted, and
patted on the back, and stroked on the head, ever since his fight with
Forgier, had been silly enough, instead of running away as fast as his
legs could take him, to go to the assembly to hear what the Prince had
to say. The moment Gargantua mentioned his name, quiet, well-to-do
neighbors, who had all along been vexed at the airs he had put
on,--being on every side of him,--pointed him out with their fingers,
slily, wickedly whispering, "You want Marquet,--there he is, that
man over there!" The wretch was at once seized by a dozen strong and
willing hands, and hauled and hustled about, till, at last, he stood,
breathing hard, before Gargantua. The Giant, towering above him,--there
was no chair in the Palace large enough for him to sit comfortably
in,--looked at him for a moment with scorn.
"So it is thou who art Marquet, art thou?"
"Yes, may it please Your Most Gracious, Most Merciful Highness," gasped
Marquet, stuttering horribly, and turning very pale.
"Gymnaste," said Gargantua, "I make thee responsible for this wretch,
and his safe delivery to our Headsman for immediate execution."
Gymnaste, after bowing respectfully, collared Marquet and marched him
off.
After the rogue had been borne away to the block, Gargantua ordered
that all who had been killed should be honorably buried in the Black
Soil Valley. For the wounded, he made ample provision in his Royal
Hospital. To the survivors, he did no other hurt than to put them to
work on the printing-presses which he had lately set up. When leaving,
he graciously thanked his weather-beaten, if not war-beaten, veterans,
and sent them to winter-quarters with rich gifts for each one; for,
even though Picrochole had run away, there was no telling but what the
Bunmakers might make another fight, and so it was thought wiser to
keep the army together for a while. But to this rule he made special
exception of those of his legions who had had the good luck, during the
pursuit, of doing some gallant deed. There were a good many of those
brave soldiers who had marched, rank upon rank, after the staff of the
Giant himself, and had done some brave action upon Picrochole's men,
while their master's great Mare was switching her terrible tail, and
knocking men down with the right whisk and the left, and driving from
the field all who were lucky enough to get out of her way.
[Illustration: REWARDING THE ARMY.]
The Giant breathed a rumbling sigh of relief at getting through so much
hard work. "I start for home at daybreak," he said. "Let my staff and
these brave men, worthy of laurels, follow me."
The distance between Roche-Clermaud and the Palace of his father
was not so very great; so that, leaving at daybreak the next day,
Gargantua, with his staff and a long line of the brave officers
and soldiers who had done such good service, following, reached the
Palace very leisurely by sundown. It was a joyful day when Father
Grandgousier, who, since Gargantua had left, seated so grandly on his
great Mare, had been all the time praying for his safety, was told by
the sentinels at the gate that the Prince, with a large retinue, was
coming near. The old man at once hastened, in high glee, as fast as
his gouty feet could carry him, to the court-yard, so as to be ready
to receive his son. The moment Gargantua rode in through the gateway,
Grandgousier shouted out:--
"Ho! ho! ho! ho! So thou art there, my boy! Come quickly to thy
Father's arms!" Even while he was saying these words he was whispering
aside to Snapsauce, the Very Fattest of the three Very Fat Cooks:--
"Get up, thou rogue, within two hours, the finest supper that has ever
gone down mortal throats since the days of my cousin King Ahasuerus! My
boy has come back a conqueror!"
Gargantua had already leaped down from his Mare and had rushed towards
his father. It was truly a meeting of Giants, which the little men
around could only manage to see by craning their necks in the air.
After embracing, Grandgousier and Gargantua passed up the broad stone
stairs which led to the main hall. They had not long to wait upon the
three Very Fat Cooks, who, by the way, had sent out messengers miles
and miles along the road by which their young master was to come,
and had known half a day before Father Grandgousier himself did, the
very hour when the Prince would reach the Palace. Cunning Very Fat
Cooks!--they had only to send up the finest supper that had ever been
seen since the days of King Ahasuerus, which had been all ready to be
served long before the King had even thought of ordering it.
Everybody was in good humor, none more so than the jovial old King
himself. When the huge table was cleared of all its rich viands and
its sparkling wines, and the guests were about leaving the hall,
Grandgousier distributed to each of the deserving soldiers the
ornaments on the sideboard, which, in the mass, weighed eight hundred
thousand and fourteen golden besants worth in great antique vases,
rich pots, basins, superb cups, goblets, candlesticks, comfit-boxes,
and other such golden plate. In addition to this princely gift,
Grandgousier caused to be counted out from the Royal Coffers, to each
hero, twelve hundred thousand golden crowns; and, as a further mark
of his special favor, he directed that to such as he named should be
granted, in perpetuity for themselves and their heirs, if they should
happen to have any, certain castles and neighboring lands.
To Master Ponocrates, he gave Roche-Clermaud.
To Gymnaste, Le Coudray.
To Eudemon, Montpensier.
And so on with the favorites.
"Ho! ho! my boy!" suddenly cried Father Grandgousier, tapping his big
forehead with his mighty finger. "We have forgotten some one, and him
our bravest, too!"
"Whom?"
"Why, our gallant Friar."
"Oh! as for Friar John, trust him to me, Father. _I_ shall take care of
him!"
"What wilt thou do, my boy?"
"What will I do? Why, I shall build for him a Monastery a hundred
times more magnificent than those Convents at Bonnivet, Chambourg, and
Chantilly, that are the boast of the world. Our Friar shall be the
Abbot of Theleme and he will make a famous Abbot, too!"
[Illustration: THE WONDERFUL WINDING STAIRWAY.]
And so Gargantua built for his friend Friar John a Monastery greater
than the Convent at Bonnivet, and the Convent at Chambourg, and
the Convent at Chantilly; for his had nine thousand, three hundred
and thirty-two chambers. But its greatest beauty, after all, was
a wonderful winding stairway, up which six men-at-arms might ride
abreast, with their six lances at rest, to the very top of the Abbey.