ure that
seemed to deny long life to any of the stock of Nevers, Louis de Gonzague
was the next of kin to his cousin, and the heir to all his wealth if by
any ill chance the dear young duke should die unmarried."

Here AEsop deliberately shut his mouth for several seconds, while the
listening bandits, persuaded that some thrilling news was toward, nudged
each other with their elbows and riddled the watchful hunchback with
imploring glances that entreated him to proceed. Thus mutely importuned,
AEsop opened his mouth again:

"But the difference in the youths' fortunes never made any difference in
their friendship. The purse of the rich Nevers was always open to the
fingers of the poor Gonzague, and the poor Gonzague had always too true
an appreciation of the meaning of friendship to deny his heart's brother
the privilege of ministering to his needs. And as the young Nevers did
not hint at the slightest inclination to marry and settle down, but
always declared himself and approved himself the most vagrant of lovers
and the most frivolous of libertines, there seemed no reason for the good
Gonzague to be uneasy as to his possible heritage. Moreover, the young
Duke of Nevers was something delicate of constitution, as it would seem,
for all his skill as a soldier and swordsman and his fame as a lady's
man. Once when he was the guest of his cousin of Gonzague in Mantua he
fell ill of a strange fever that came near to ending his days, and was
only saved by his French physician, who tended him day and night and took
him back to France in the first dawn of his convalescence."

AEsop stopped and blinked at his hearers viciously, looking like some
school-master that wonders how much or how little of what he has been
saying his pupils have understood. Cocardasse was the first to show
intelligence and to give it tongue.

"I'll wager," he cried, and swore a great Gascon oath, "that I can hazard
a pretty guess as to the name of our employer in to-night's work."

AEsop leered at him with a pitying benignity.

"You were always a great brain for deduction, friend Cocardasse," he
said. "And who should you say was the honest gentleman who wanted our
swords for this present business?"

"Why," answered Cocardasse, shaking his head gloomily, "though I hate to
think it, and hate to say it, it seems to me that the man who has most to
gain from this little meeting and its inevitable result is none other
than the third Louis, your Italian o