Part 14 (1/2)

”Eh, Guillemette, Guillemette,” he laughed. ”Why, la.s.s--!”

”Faugh!” said Guillemette Moreau, as she pa.s.sed him, nose in air. ”A murderer, a priest-killer.”

Then the sun went black for Francois. Such welcoming was a bucket of cold water, full in the face. He gasped, staring after her; and pursy Thomas Tricot, on his way from ma.s.s, nudged Martin Blaru in the ribs.

”Martin,” said he, ”fruit must be cheap this year. Yonder in the gutter is an apple from the gallows-tree, and no one will pick it up.”

Blaru turned and spat out, ”Cain! Judas!”

This was only a sample. Everywhere Francois found rigid faces, sniffs, and skirts drawn aside. A little girl in a red cap, Robin Troussecaille's daughter, flung a stone at Francois as he slunk into the cloister of Saint Benoit-le-Betourne. In those days a slain priest was G.o.d's servant slain, no less; and the Rue Saint Jacques was a respectable G.o.d-fearing quarter of Paris.

”My father!” the boy cried, rapping upon the door of the Hotel de la Porte-Rouge; ”O my father, open to me, for I think that my heart is breaking.”

Shortly his foster-father, Guillaume de Villon, came to the window.

”Murderer!” said he. ”Betrayer of women! Now, by the caldron of John! how dare you show your face here? I gave you my name and you soiled it. Back to your husks, rascal!”

”O G.o.d, O G.o.d!” Francois cried, one or two times, as he looked up into the old man's implacable countenance. ”You, too, my father!”

He burst into a fit of sobbing.

”Go!” the priest stormed; ”go, murderer!”

It was not good to hear Francois' laughter. ”What a world we live in!”

he giggled. ”You gave me your name and I soiled it? Eh, Master Priest, Master Pharisee, beware! _Villon_ is good French for _vagabond_, an excellent name for an outcast. And as G.o.d lives, I will presently drag that name through every muckheap in France.”

Yet he went to Jehan de Vaucelles' home. ”I will afford G.o.d one more chance at my soul,” said Francois.

In the garden he met Catherine and Noel d'Arnaye coming out of the house.

They stopped short. Her face, half-m.u.f.fled in the brown fur of her cloak, flushed to a wonderful rose of happiness, the great eyes glowed, and Catherine reached out her hands toward Francois with a glad cry.

His heart was hot wax as he fell before her upon his knees. ”O heart's dearest, heart's dearest!” he sobbed; ”forgive me that I doubted you!”

And then for an instant, the balance hung level. But after a while, ”Ysabeau de Montigny dwells in the Rue du Fouarre,” said Catherine, in a crisp voice,--”having served your purpose, however, I perceive that Ysabeau, too, is to be cast aside as though she were an old glove.

Monsieur d'Arnaye, thrash for me this betrayer of women.”

Noel was a big, handsome man, like an obtuse demi-G.o.d, a foot taller than Francois. Noel lifted the boy by his collar, caught up a stick and set to work. Catherine watched them, her eyes gemlike and cruel.

Francois did not move a muscle. G.o.d had chosen.

After a little, though, the Sieur d'Arnaye flung Francois upon the ground, where he lay quite still for a moment. Then slowly he rose to his feet. He never looked at Noel. For a long time Francois stared at Catherine de Vaucelles, frost-flushed, defiant, incredibly beautiful. Afterward the boy went out of the garden, staggering like a drunken person.

He found Montigny at the Crowned Ox. ”Rene,” said Francois, ”there is no charity on earth, there is no G.o.d in Heaven. But in h.e.l.l there is most a.s.suredly a devil, and I think that he must laugh a great deal. What was that you were telling me about the priest with six hundred crowns in his cupboard?”

Rene slapped him on the shoulder. ”Now,” said he, ”you talk like a man.”

He opened the door at the back and cried: ”Colin, you and Pet.i.t Jehan and that pig Tabary may come out. I have the honor, messieurs, to offer you a new Companion of the c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l--Master Francois de Montcorbier.”

But the recruit raised a protesting hand. ”No,” said he,--”Francois Villon. The name is triply indisputable, since it has been put upon me not by one priest but by three.”

6. _”Volia l'Estat Divers d'entre Eulx”_