The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1902-12-26

Tristan answered.. "One WI
lon, scholar, poet, drinker, sWorder,
drabber, blabber, good at pen, point,
and pitcher. In the court of miracles
they call him the king Of the cookie
shells. Judge him for yourself"
CHAPTER II.
MASTER FRANCOIS WILLOW.
AS Tristan spoke the tavern latch
ratified, the tavern door was flung
noisily open, and the kings gaze rested
on a strange figure framed in the en-
try. The man was of middle height,
spare and slight and lean; his thin,
eager face was bronzed with the suns
and winds of a generation, and lined
with the stern ciphe"s of mal1gn eXper-
fences. His dark, straight hair was
long and unke1npt; the finer lines Of
his cheeks and chin were blurred with
the uncropDed growth of a Week-old
beard; his eyes were bright and quick;
his glance restless n comprehensive.
A cunning reader Of features would
have found a home for high thoughts
behind the fine forehead, the lines OF
Infinite tenderness upon the mobile
lips, the light of some noble conflagra-
ton in the wild eyes,. He was dressed
in faded finery Of many %colors, so
ragged and patched and hostile that he
had very much the air Of a gaudy
scarecrow. His ruined cloak was tilted
by q long sword; his disordered thatch
was crowned by a battered cap gro
tesquely adorned with a cocks feather.
In his leathern belt a small vellum
bound book Of verses kept company
with a dagger. For all his whimsical
appearance the kings keen eyes could
note a something gallant in the car
riage of the scamp, could spy out quail
tiles Of manhood beneath the battered
bravery. He poised for a. moment on
the threshold in a fantastic attitude Of
salutation ere he slammed the door
behind him and strobe forward to meet
his friends. l
"Well, Hearts of Gold, how are YEP
he cried joyously as he advanced with
head thrown back and open hands ex-
tended. did we miss me, lads; did we
miss me, lasses?" r
Abbess Huguette was at his side in
an instant, with her arms about his
neck fondling him and fawning upon
him. Surely I missed you," she whis-
pered. Where have you been, little
monkey?" w.
Master Francois looked at her for a
moment with a curious pity. Then
gently extricating himself from her
embrace he called out, "Give me a wash
Of wine for my threats parched with
piping" "t
Every man thrust his own mug
towards Master Francois, beseeching
him to drink of it, but he waved them
my own,' he said. "Have we no land
lord here? Master Robin, come hither."
Robin Turgis, who had kept apart up
to now, surveying. the newcomer with
no excess of favor, moved slowly, for
ward with his thumbs in his girdle and
a sour smile on his fat cheeks. Master
Francois addressed him sternly, witch
ing as he did SO the landlords greasy
cap from his pate and sending it flying
down the room. why do YOU not sa-
lutte gentry when they honor your pot
house? A mug of your best Beaune,
Master Beggar-maker, to drink damna-
tion to the Burgundians."
Robin Turgis made no motion to
obey, but hise small eyes seemed to
grow smaller as they stared. What
color has money nowadays, Master
Francois?" he asked doggedly. In a
moment the brown, dirty hand Of the
poet was clapped to his dagger and
there was something Of q wolfsh snarl
in his voice as he answered menacing-
ly, The color OF blood sometimes" But
the landlord. unabashed n undis-
mayed, stood his ground.
None of your staggering, Master
Francois" he said sturdily. There is
such a thing as a king in France and
that kings name is writ fair On his
coinage. Show me q Louis XXI. and
will show you my Beaune vine"
The face Of Master Francois flushed
under its CRIME, and he fddled at his
dagger n~ervously, as one uncertain
whether to laugh3or cry at the dilemma
which confronted him. Huguette and
Montigny alike had dipped their: hands
into their pouches for money to pay
the poets score when to the amaze
ment of Tristan the king f~orestalled
their Skindnesses. Rising to his feet
with creditable alacrity he advanced
towards Master Francois andS3saIuted
him with a gracious wave of the hand
will you let me be of some small
service to you" he began politely, and
as iVillon turned to stare at him ir
q surprise he continued will you
honor me BY drinkingytha Beaune wine
our host brags Of at mySexpense?n rs
Z Villon' $ astonshnents#had notA@pn-
nerved his clutch at opportunity. Here
Twas a god out of a machine, profferins
cool liquor#to dry outlets. Master Fran,
cois gave. back the salutationS with &
mien of Observation-Disclosures while
THE rest of the company glared at the
burgess who thus thrust himself upor
them, and Tristan, cursing the&king FOL
Ibis temerity, felt for a. hidden dagger
@5ANYillon' patronizing wave OF the hane
was magnificent in Its effrontery, and
his words matched his gesture nobly.B
You are a civil stranger,sand8I vii
SO far honor you. ~ Louis bowed. s.
left my purse under my pillow thi,
morningi-aroarsgof laughter saIutee
the ancient jape-aand ths$ungsntls
fellow denies me credit.sHoW rarel,
we meet with an a~Ie-draper who is aIst
gentIeHan.o
n With5an unnaoved c~ountenance Loii.
listened to Nillenss words. e the sal,
Of asthing SO noble ought#to beget 4
kind of nobility in the vendor hesais
with great gravity; then turning t
Robin TuIgis, whose mouth was gapina