The girl came nearer to Villon. Her face was very pale in the dim
light, and a fleeting image of the moon in clouds teased his fancy.
Her lips were as red, he thought, as the ruby of a bishop's ring,
and her eyes out-starred Venus. So it was he who trembled and not
the maiden who was saying strange unmaiden-like words in a clear,
steel-like whisper.
"Kill Thibaut d'Aussigny. You are a skillful swordsman, they say.
You are little better than an outlaw. You say you love me more than
life. Kill Thibaut d'Aussigny!"
Villon looked at her queerly. To save his life he could not keep his
face from quivering. He was eating his heart and it tasted very
bitter, and his own voice sounded far away to him, like a voice
heard in a dream.
"So that you and Noel what's his name may live happily ever after?"
Katherine drew back from him, a little scorn in her eyes and on her
lips.
"Are you less eager to serve me than you were?"
The question struck him in the breast like the stroke of a sword. He
remembered his golden vows and his golden verses, and sickened at
his shadow of disloyal doubt and anger.
"No, by Heaven, but I've been dozing and dreaming, and I've got to
rub the sleep out of my eyes and the dream out of my heart.
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