"
He drew his great war-sword and handed it to Noel le Jolys, who, for
one of the few times in his life, astonished into forgetfulness of
courtly etiquette, had been staring, open-mouthed, at the
astonishing revelation that had just been made to him. The gleam of
the war-worn weapon recalled him to himself and he took it from the
hands of the doomed man with a grave courtesy which meant something
more than the official fulfillment of a formal duty. Noel le Jolys
was a soldier and his eyes paid homage to a brave man.
Villon turned to Tristan.
"Master Tristan, perform your office upon this self-doomed felon."
With great alacrity, Tristan moved towards Villon, but his motion
was met by such angry murmurs from the crowd, and not from the crowd
alone, but from the soldiers who had followed Villon to victory,
that even he shrank back instinctively before its menace. There came
cries from a thousand throats, calling on the king to pardon the
Grand Constable, calling upon those who loved him to rescue him.
"King, is this justice?" Ren? de Montigny, shouted, and his question
evoked a roar of approval from the multitude.
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