"No less. Are you not Grand Constable, chief of the king's army?
There is an enemy at the gates of Paris, and none of the king's men
can frighten him away." She pointed out where, in the distance,
beyond the walls of Paris, the pitched tents of the enemy fluttered
their hostile flags. Her bosom heaved with great desire. "Oh, that a
man would come to court! For the man who shall trail the banners of
Burgundy in the dust for the king of France to walk on, I may
perhaps have favours."
Villon looked at her as men must have looked at Joan of Arc when she
bade them rise up and strike for France.
"You are hard to please," he said, but his heart was full of joy at
the thought of trying to please her. If he could do this thing!
The girl answered his words and not his thoughts.
"My hero must have every virtue for his wreath, every courage for
his coronet. Farewell."
By this time she had reached the terrace and she made to enter the
palace. Villon called to her longingly:
"Stay! I have a thousand things to say to you."
The girl smiled denial.
"I have but one," she said, "and I have said it long since.
Farewell.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143