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."
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."