But now Gabrielle, greatly alarmed at the prospect of a brawl in such a place, and perfectly recognizing the marquis, removed her mask from her face for a moment while she spoke: "Monsieur de Chavernay, you will let me pass."
It was only for a moment, but it was long enough to give Chavernay time to recognize her, and he fell back with a respectful salutation. It was long enough, also, for Peyrolles, leaning against his tree and at last roused from saddened thoughts to contemplation of the outer world, to get a glimpse of the girl’s face and to recognize its extraordinary resemblance to the dead duke. He gave a start of surprise. Was fortune playing into his hands, after all?
Chavernay bowed. "Your pardon, lady; your path is free," he said, and stood aside while Gabrielle moved slowly forward with her escort on a second tour of the fountain. Navailles and the others had seen, indeed, the lady unmask, but were not near enough to descry her features.
"Well," said Navailles, eagerly, to Chavernay—"well, who was the lady?"
Chavernay answered, coolly: "I do not know."
At this moment the lean form and yellow face of Monsieur de Peyrolles intruded itself into the group of Gonzague’s friends.
"Monsieur de Chavernay," he said, "my illustrious master is looking for you. He is with his majesty."
"I will join him," Chavernay answered, readily. He was, like his kinsman, a privileged person with the sovereign, and he, too, was permitted to enter the tent unchallenged. He entered it with a graver demeanor than he had worn that evening, for he was strangely perplexed by the presence at the king’s ball this night of the girl whom he had seen at the country Inn. As soon as Chavernay had disappeared, Peyrolles, hurriedly beckoning, gathered about him Navailles, Nocé, and the others, and addressed them in an eager whisper:
"Gentlemen, you are all devoted to the interests of the Prince de Gonzague?"
Nocé spoke for himself and his comrades: "We are."