"
As Olivier left the royal presence a little thing happened which
meant much to four people. Katherine came on to the terrace with
Noel le Jolys. She had a lute in her hand and she touched its chords
lightly, seeking to make an air for words as she idled the time with
her wooer. Louis saw her, though Villon did not, for he was huddled
in a heap on the marble seat with his head in his hands trying to
control his whirling thoughts. A new demon of mischief entered the
king's heart.
"How," he thought, "if my lady Virtue, who flouted me, could be
lured to love this beggar-man?" He ambled across to where Villon
lay and tapped him on the shoulder. Villon turned to him a face
drawn and white with agony.
"One further chance, fellow," said the king. "If the Count of
Montcorbier win the heart of Lady Katherine de Vaucelles within the
week, he shall escape the gallows and carry his lady love where he
pleases."
"On your word of honour, sire?"
"My word is my honour, Master Fran?ois. Well?"
At this very moment it pleased heaven that Katherine, sitting on the
terrace and smiling at the adoration in Noel le Jolys' eyes, seemed
to find the air she sought and began to sing.
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