The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1903-02-20

grand constable will be to hang Master
Francois Villon."
If the world had been colorless and
scentless before, it was now no better
than a hideous heap of ashes. If Viii
Ion had run up a heavy reckoning with
the king at the Fircone tavern, must he
wipe out the score with his life blood.
Villon fell at the kings feet with e~-
end hands and agoniZed, beseech-
ing eyes.
"Sire, sire, have PITY"
The king looked down on him in dis
dain.
Are O SO fond of life? Are you so
poor a thing that you prize your garnet
and your kennel, you tavern and your
brothel SO highly"
Villon bowed his head.
II was content yesterday"
The king surveyed the covering fig
ure with growing contempt.
Can you be content today? Please
yourself. There is still a door open
to you. You can go back to your gar
ret this very moment if you choose.
Say the word and my servants shall
strip you Of your smart feathers and
drub you into the street"
Villon buried his face in his hands.
Your majesty, be merciful!' he i'm
plored.
The kings scorn blazed out:
you read Louis of France a lesson,
and Louis of France returns the COM
pliment. I took you for true gold and
l am afraid that you are only base
metal. You mouthed your longing for
the chance to show what you could do.
Here is your chance! Take it or leave
it. But remember that l never change
my mind. You nay have your week of
wonder if you wish, but if you do, by
my word as a king, you shall swing for
it,"
Nillon rose to his feet and caught at
his throat as if the grip of the ROPE were
at that very ONE closing about it.
He choked as he spoke.
In Gods anne, sire, what have I
done that you should torture me thus?''
The king snapped his answer:
You have Knocked a king and MAIN
ed a minister. You can't get off scot
free
Villon's bewildered. thoughts forced
themselves into words. He spoke not so
much to the king as to himself. desper-
ately trying to decide.
Heaven help me! Life, squalid,
sordid, but still life, with it's tavern
corners and it's brute pleasures of food
and drink and warm sleep, living hands
~ iioll ciiu llSlIS dhSllC u Slduuel
me-or a week Of cloth of gold, of glory,
of love-and then a shameful DEATH"
He flung himself on the marble seat
and crouched there, Shuddering.
The king patted him on the back.
PRAY. friend, pray, to help your
judgment!"
He had taken off his black velvet cap
and ran his eye over the little row of
metal saints which encircled it as if
hn oro r,oJito+ iro r. ~l,i,l 49, ,,4;,
lar patron he should recommed his
grand constable to address himself. AS
he did so, Olivier lie Dain came through
the garden and moved swiftly to the
kings side.
Sire" he said, 1.-The Burgundian her.
aid. Toison dor, attends under a flag
of truce with a message for your ma
jesty." /.
Louis turned to his barber.
I'VE will receive him here, Olivie..
in this green audience chamber. We
need the free air when we hold speech
with Burgundy" ,-
As Olivier left the royal presence a
little thing happened which meant
much to four people. Katherine came
on to the terrace with Noel lie Jolys.
She had a lutte in her hand and she
touched it's chords lightly, seeking to
make an air for words as she idled the
%AAAS ~ " Z ttSA . A-oulo \ Z >
though Villon did not, for he was hud-
died in a heap or the marble seat with
his head in his hands trying to control
his whirling thoughts. A new demon Of
mischief entered the kings heart.
How" he thought, eff my lady Vir-
tue, who flouted me, could be lured to
love this beggar-man?" He ambled
across to where Villon lay and tapped
him on the shoulder. Villon turned to
him a face drawn n white with
agony.
"One further chance, fellow said the
king. IF the Count of Montcorbier win
the heart of Lady Katherine de Vau-
celles within the week, he shall escape
the gallows and carry his lady love
where he pleases."
your word of honor, sire?'
my word is my honor, Master Fran
co.'s. Well?"
At this very moment it pleased
heaven that Katherine, sitting on the
terrace and smiling at the alteration in
Noel lie Jolys' eyes,, seerned to find the
air she sought and began to sing. The
tune was quaint and plaintive, tender
as an ancient lullaby, the words were
the words of the tortured poet, and as
he heard them a new hope seemed to
come into his heart.
Life is unstable,
Love may uphold;
Fea goes in sable,
Courage in gold.
Mystery covers
Midnight and noon,
Heroes and lovers
Cry for the moon.'s