f Gonzague."

AEsop nodded, and a ferocious smile illuminated his evil face.

"You have come to a very creditable conclusion, friend Cocardasse. It
looks very much as if Jonathan wanted to kill David, as if Patroclus
yearned to slaughter Achilles, as if Pythias wanted to extinguish
Damon."

Master AEsop prided himself upon his scholarship and his felicity in
classical allusion--a felicity wholly wasted upon his present audience.

Cocardasse was still curious. "Why does Louis de Gonzague want to kill
his friend, Louis of Nevers, just at this particular moment, and why here
in this heaven-forgotten hole of a place, in this heaven-forgotten corner
of the world?"

AEsop explained: "Because Louis de Gonzague, having tried once, with good
reason, and failed, tries again with better reason and means to succeed
this time, believing much steel to do better than a little poison.
Because, in a few words, Louis de Gonzague wants to marry the beautiful
Gabrielle, daughter of old Caylus of the castle there, who is wealthy,
too."

Passepoil, who was always interested in affairs of the heart, put in his
word. "Why doesn't he marry her?"

AEsop was ready to explain that matter also: "Because Gabrielle de Caylus
is already secretly married to Louis de Nevers. They were married one
year ago in the chapel of Caylus, and the only witnesses were Louis de
Gonzague and his factotum, Monsieur Peyrolles, who has summoned us to
this tryst."

"Why were they secretly married?" asked the amorous Passepoil.

AEsop answered him: "An old family feud between the houses of Nevers and
Caylus. The marquis would rather kill his daughter than let her marry
Louis de Nevers. So they were wedded secretly, without his knowledge, and
Louis de Gonzague, that could deny his dear friend and cousin, Louis de
Nevers, nothing, helped him to his wife."

"That was generous, at least," Passepoil sighed.

AEsop sneered. "He hoped, as he believed with reason, that there would be
no issue of the marriage, and that by-and-by he would come to what he
called his own. But three months ago a daughter was born to the nuptials
of Nevers, and that is why we are here to-night. Monsieur Peyrolles would
pretend that it is the old marquis who is using us, the old marquis who
is suspicious of an amour between his daughter and Nevers. But I know
better."

"How do you know all this?" Cocardasse inquired.

AEsop shrugged his shoulders. "My good fellow," he said, "it is my
b