tion, murmured to himself: "The
best."

As he moved slowly away from the king's tent a little crowd of Gonzague's
friends--Chavernay, Oriol, Navailles, Noce, Gironne, Choisy, Albret, and
Montaubert--all laughing and talking loudly, crossed his path and
perceived the hunchback, who seemed to them, naturally enough, a somewhat
singular figure in such a scene. "Good Heavens! What is this?" cried
Navailles.

Noce chuckled: "A hunchback brings luck. May I slap you on the back,
little lord?"

AEsop answered him, coolly: "Yes, Monsieur de Noce, if I may slap you in
the face."

Noce took offence instantly. "Now, by Heaven, crookback!" he cried, and
made a threatening gesture against AEsop, who eyed him insolently with a
mocking smile.

Chavernay interposed. "Nonsense!" he cried. "Nonsense, Noce, you began
the jest." Then he added, in a lower voice: "You can't pick a quarrel
with the poor devil."

The hunchback paid him an extravagant salutation. "Monsieur de Chavernay,
you are always chivalrous. You really ought to die young, for it will
take so much trouble to turn you into a rogue."

Fat Oriol, staring in amazement at the controversy, questioned: "What
does the fellow mean?"

Chavernay burst into a fit of laughing, and patted Oriol on the back.
"I'm afraid he means that you are a rogue, Oriol."

While the angry gentlemen stood together, with the hunchback apart eying
them derisively, and Chavernay standing between the belligerents as
peace-maker, Taranne hurriedly joined the group. He was evidently choking
with news and eager to distribute it.

"Friends, friends," he cried, "there is something extraordinary going on
here to-night!"

"What is it?" asked Chavernay.

Taranne answered him, with a voice as grave as an oracle: "All the
sentinels are doubled, and there are two companies of soldiers in the
great court."

Navailles protested: "You are joking!"

Taranne was not to be put down. "Never more serious. Every one who
enters is scrutinized most carefully."

"That is easy to explain," said Chavernay; "it is just to make sure that
they really are invited."

Taranne declined to admit this interpretation of his mystery: "Not so,
for nobody is allowed on any pretext to leave the gardens."

Oriol flushed with a sudden wave of intelligence: "Perhaps some plot
against his majesty."

"Heaven knows," Navailles commented.

AEsop interrupted the discussion with a dry laugh, dimly suggestive of the
cackle of a