Peyrolles went to the door that communicated with the prince’s private apartments, and, opening it, beckoned into the corridor. Then he drew back into the room, and a moment later was followed by a hunchbacked man in black, who wore a large sword. The man bowed profoundly to the Prince de Gonzague.
Peyrolles introduced him. "This is the man, monseigneur."
Gonzague looked fixedly at the man. He could see little of his face, for the head was thrust forward from the stooping, misshapen shoulders, and his long, dark hair hung about his cheeks and shaded his countenance. The face seemed pale and intelligent. It was naturally quite unfamiliar to Gonzague, who knew nothing of Æsop except as one of the men who had played a sinister part in the murder at Caylus.
Gonzague addressed him. "You know much, they tell me?"
The man bowed again, and spoke, slowly: "I know that Lagardere is in Paris, and with the child of Nevers."
"Do you know where he is?" Gonzague questioned.
The man answered, with laconic confidence: "I will find out."
"How?" asked Gonzague.
The hunchback laughed dryly. "That is my secret. Paris cannot hold any mystery from me."
Gonzague questioned again: "Is it to your interest that Lagardere should die?"