He was dressed in faded finery of
many colours, so ragged and patched and hostile that he had very
much the air of a gaudy scarecrow. His ruined cloak was tilted by a
long sword; his disordered thatch was crowned by a battered cap
grotesquely adorned with a cock's feather. In his leathern belt a
small vellum bound book of verses kept company with a dagger. For
all his whimsical appearance the king's keen eyes could note a
something gallant in the carriage of the scamp, could spy out
qualities of manhood beneath the battered bravery. He poised for a
moment on the threshold in a fantastic attitude of salutation ere he
slammed the door behind him and strode forward to meet his friends.
"Well, Hearts of Gold, how are ye?" he cried joyously as he advanced
with head thrown back and open hands extended. "Did ye miss me,
lads; did ye miss me, lasses?"
Abbess Huguette was at his side in an instant, with her arms about
his neck fondling him and fawning upon him. "Surely I missed you,"
she whispered. "Where have you been, little monkey?"
Master Fran?ois looked at her for a moment with a curious pity. Then
gently extricating himself from her embrace he called out, "Give me
a wash of wine for my throat's parched with piping.
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