From every window heads were thrust and
hands extended waving scarfs of silk or scattering flowers. The
blare of the soldiers' music grew louder and louder, the tramp of
horse and men came nearer and nearer, and then, when the cheering
was at its shrillest and the rain of flowers thickest, Villon rode
in through the gateway on his great warhorse with his five ruffians
close at his heels. Villon's lifted hand gave the signal for a halt
and he leaped lightly off his horse and advanced towards the king, a
glorious figure to the eyes of the crowd in his shining armour with
a scarlet coif upon his helmet. If for a moment his glance rested on
the gaunt skeleton of the gallows there came no change in the proud
composure of his face. Immediately behind him followed the faithful
ragamuffins, each of whom bore vivid signs in slung arm, swathed leg
or bandaged forehead of the lusty work he had done in the king's
name upon the king's enemies. But the slings and swathes and
bandages were of no common sort, but splendid bits of silk of many
colours, bearing fantastic devices and rich in threads of gold and
silver.
As Villon and his fantastic escort strode towards the presence, Noel
interposed indignantly.
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