"Who better? That nasty quarrel over the cards, the high words and a
snatch for the winnings, a tilted table, an extinguished taper, a
stab in the dark and a groan. Exit Thevenin Pensete. Your dagger
doesn't grow rusty!"
Jehan's grey face grew greyer and uglier, but he kept his
countenance.
"Monseigneur," he answered, "I loved him like a brother."
"As Cain loved Abel," Villon said. He made a sign, and Jehan le Loup
was taken back to his fellows.
So far Villon had been sufficiently diverted. He had played upon the
terrors of his friends, he had bewildered them to the top of his
desire. He now foresaw the possibility of sport more delicate as his
glance fell upon the group of girls who clustered together like
frightened birds at the foot of the statue of Pan. He made a sign to
Messire Noel, and the gilded exquisite drew near.
"Bring me hither those four gentlewomen," he commanded.
The fop's face lengthened with amazed disapprobation.
"Gentlewomen, messire? Those four doxies?"
Villon reproved him.
"They are women, good captain, and you and I are gentlemen, or
should be, and must use them gently."
Messire Noel frowned and his hand made a gesture in the direction of
his sword-hilt; then he remembered the folly of quarrelling with so
great a man and contented himself with shrugging his shoulders as he
questioned,
"And the demirep in the doublet and hose?"
"Let her stay for the present," Villon answered, and in obedience to
a sign from Noel the four girls came timidly forward with downcast
eyes, while Huguette remained apart, leaning composedly against the
image of Pan and surveying the scene with a good-humoured
indifference.
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