The hearts of both were
houses of sweet hopes, and the brains of both were hives of happy
thoughts.
"May I ask you a question?" Villon said, and the girl answered:
"Surely."
"Are you content with me?"
"You have done much."
"I have more to do. For seven days I have wrestled with greatness as
Jacob wrestled with the angels; I have made the king popular, the
Parisians loyal, the army faithful--"
"Then why do you linger here where courtiers feast and ladies
dance?"
Villon's voice swelled proudly as he answered:
"I want the Duke of Burgundy to believe that the king's favourite is
a zany, and the king's court an orgy, where the king's honour melts
like a pearl in a pot of vinegar. But our swords are tempered in
wine and sharpened to dance music, and to-night we ride."
The girl sighed. "I would that I were a man that I might ride with
you."
Villon came close to her and peered into her eyes.
"I ride in your honour. Heaven has been very good to me, and I serve
France serving you. Perhaps I serve both for the last time."
"For the last time?" she repeated.
"Even so, my sweet Lady Echo. Those far away lanterns warn me that I
may die to-morrow.
Pages:
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177