Lagardere grasped the out-stretched hands, and in another moment would have caught the girl in his arms, but a dry, crackling laugh arrested him. Gently restraining Gabrielle's advance, he turned his head and saw standing upon the bridge surveying him and Gabrielle a sinister figure. It was Æsop, returning from his stroll with Monsieur Peyrolles, who had paused on the bridge in cynical amusement of what he conceived to be a lovers' meeting between countryman and countrymaid, but whose face now flushed with a sudden interest as he recognized the face of the man in the gypsy habit. Lagardere turned again to Gabrielle, and his face was calm and smiling. "Go in-doors," he said, pleasantly, "I will join you by-and-by." Gabrielle, in her turn, had glanced at the sinister figure on the bridge, and, seeing the malevolence of its attitude, of its expression, had drawn back with a faint cry. "Henri," she said--"Henri, who is that watching us? He looks so evil." Lagardere had recognized Æsop as instantly as Æsop had recognized Lagardere. Æsop now came slowly towards them, addressing them mockingly: "Do not let me disturb you. Life is brief, but love is briefer." Lagardere again commanded Gabrielle: "Go in, child, at once." "Are you in danger?" Gabrielle asked, fearfully. Lagardere shook his head and repeated his command: "No. Go in at once. Wait in your room until I come for you." Æsop looked at him with raised eyebrows and a wicked grin. "Why banish the lady? She might find my tale entertaining." At an imperative signal from Lagardere, Gabrielle entered the Inn. Lagardere then advanced towards Æsop, who watched him with folded arms and his familiar malevolent smile. When they were quite close, Æsop greeted Lagardere: "So the rat has come to the trap at last. Lagardere in Paris--ha, ha!" Lagardere looked at him ponderingly. "The thought amuses you." Æsop's grin deepened. "Very much. Before nightfall you will be in prison." Lagardere seemed to deny him. "I think not. You carry a sword and can use it. You shall fight for your life, like your fellow-assassins." Æsop looked about him. "I have but to raise my voice. There must be people within call even in this sleepy neighborhood." Lagardere still smiled, and the smile was still provocative. "But if you raise your voice I shall be reluctantly compelled to stab you where you stand. Ah, coward, can you only fight in the dark when you are nine to one?" Æsop gave his hilt a hitch. "You will serve my master's turn as well dead as alive. I wear the best sword in the world, and it longs for your life." Lagardere pointed to the tranquil little Inn. "Behind yonder Inn there is a garden. To-day, when all the world is at the fair, that garden is as lonely as a cemetery. At the foot of the garden runs the river, a ready grave for the one who falls. There we can fight in quiet to our heart's content."