Louis advanced to the first litter, and extending his hand, assisted
the queen to descend and conducted her with an elaborate display of
polite affection to the gorgeous dais by the side of the church,
where they sat side by side on the small thrones that had been
prepared for them. The ladies and gentlemen of the court ranged
themselves in their places behind the royal pair and the Scottish
archers formed a solid force in front. Through the open gateway came
a few running, shouting enthusiasts, outstrippers of the mass of
citizens who were returning from the walls. Even the heavy sleep of
Trois-Echelles and Petit-Jean was not proof against all this tumult.
They awoke, rubbed their eyes, then climbing briskly to their feet,
leaned over the platform on the handrails of the gallows and
surveyed the scene with interest.
Noel le Jolys pushed his way through the crowd aboat the gateway and
advanced to the king.
"Sire," he said, "the latest message from the battle: The day is
wholly ours. The Grand Constable returns in triumph. You can hear
his music now."
Louis nodded.
"It is very well," he affirmed gravely.
Through the gateway the crowd of people was pouring thick and fast,
shouting and cheering and filling the square in front of the dais
with a throng of enthusiastic men, women and children, all waving
their arms, flinging flowers and yelling welcomes at the topmost
pitch of their lungs.
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