Villon wagged his head wisely.
"Master Tabarie, Master Tabarie, your memory is failing you. Why, no
later than the middle of March last you broke into the church at
dead of night and pilfered the gold plate from the altar. The fear
of God is not very strong in you."
If Master Tabarie had been listening to the words of a wizard, he
could not have been more astonished.
"Saints and angels!" he cried aloud. "This Grand Constable is the
devil himself! My lord, I was led astray; my lord, I was not
alone--"
Villon had had enough entertainment from his fat companion.
He made a sign, and instantly a soldier swooped upon the grovelling
figure, twitched him to his feet and drew him apart, stuttering
furious protestations of innocence.
Villon looked at the list in his hand, and this time he called for
two names, "Colin de Cayeulx and Casin Cholet," and as he spoke, the
two knaves were pushed forward towards him. Villon drew the pair a
little way apart and stood between them, eyeing their roguish faces
on which false affability struggled with a very real fear.
"Are you good citizens, sirs?" he asked, and Colin immediately
answered him:
"I am loath to sing my own praises, but I can speak frankly for my
friend here.
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