Missouri Valley times. [volume] (Missouri Valley, Iowa) 1874-1931, 1903-04-09
His words fell like the beat of

His words fell like the beat of a
passing bell upon the ears of an abso-
lutely silent crowd and for some few
year-long seconds the silence. brooded
over the place. The five wantons OH
the fringe of the crowd caught at each
others fingers and gasped. Was that
splendid gentleman their old friend.
Francois Villon? AS for the five rogues
who knew the secret, they had begun to
laugh at Villons first words. but the
laughter dried upon their lips as he
ended.
From the church suddenly the exult
ant music OF the TIE Deum ceased to
swell and in Its place crept forth upon
the silent air the awful notes of a Mis-
erere. The king had been at the ear of
the organist that morning and had
planned his effects we'll. The melan-
chody music stirred the people to muir
murs OF surprise and protest.
Guy Tabarie, fiourishing his notched
and bloody sword, thrust his round
body forward.
."What Jest is this?" he asked.
And Villon answered him:
such Jest as would rather weep
over tomorrow than laugh at today. For
the pitcher breaks at the wells mouth
this very morning Messire Noel, to
you 6uITeuueT MY SWOIQ. ilhe W We
lieve that 1T has scraped little shame
from its masters coat"
He drew his great war-sword and
handed 1t to Noel lie 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 CLEAN of the
war-worn weapon recalled him to him
self and he took it from the hands of
the doomed man with grave courtesy
fulfllment of formal duty Noel lie
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?" Rene de Mon
tigny shouted, and his question evoked
u lOdI VI dppTOVdl IRON luG
The kings keen glance surveyed the
scene with no sign of fear and no sign
Of annoyance. Leaning easily upon the
railing. as a man might lean who sur
veyed an amusing farce or interlude
he addressed the crowd:
Good people Of Paris, you have heard
your grand constable pronounce SEN
tence upon criminal. Has Master
Francois Villon any reason to urge, any
plea to offer, why the sentence should
not be carried out?"
Villon waved his hand disdainfully.
II have nothing whatever to say, sire.
Francois Villon must die. It's bad luck
for him. but he has had worse luck and
SOTO business"
AS he spoke he drew near to the line
of Scottish archers and two of their
number laid hands on him, one at either
side. The sight of their hero thus in
the very clutch of Justice spurred the
multitude to renewed evaporation.
Angry demands for Justice, for mercy,
for rescue, shook the summer air. I'm
armed citizens broke into an armorer's
shop hard ~. and selling whatever
weapons they could lay their hands
cant assertion that their words were
but the prefaces to deeds. Again Ia
barrels bull voice beloved to those
about him!
Kings must listen to the voice of
the people. Shall the man who led us
to victory die a rogue's death?"
And again his thunder heralded a
storm. Soldiers and citizens alike
seemed prepared to rescue Villon by
force from the hands of his enemies.
The Scottish archers with levelled ar
quebusses formed a line in front of the
dais and every courtier drew his sword.
Only the king seemed unmoved, only
the king seemed entertained by the
whirlwind he had reaped. He asked
quite quietly:
Docs Master Francois Villon ask his
life?'
Villon shook his head.
No, sire. Master Francois Villon
| played and Master Francois pays"
AS he spoke the angry people, swaying
like a sea, shouted new shouts of res
cue, clamored new cries for pardon.
Olivier, green-pale, whispered eagerly
to the king:
Sire, the rogues are in damnable
temper. Can you not gain time post
| pone, promise?"
Louis answered imperturbably:
Are the fools so fond of the fellow ?
know a way to stop them shouting. ~
AS he spoke, for the first time he rose
from his seat, a frail, small, black fig
ure, to dominate those raging waves of
humanity, While Olivier, holding up his
hand to order silence, shouted:
Peace, peace! The king would speal;
| with his good people OF Paris.''
The noisy voices dropped slowly into
silence to hear what the king said
Good people of Paris. am no tyrant
But a king is the father of his people
and his ears can never be shut against
| the cries of his children! This lnan's
! life is forfeit. Which of you will re-
| deem it? If there be one among you
ready to take Master Francois Villon's
place on yonder gibbet, let that one
| speak now"
There was brief silence as the moi
began to realize the meaning of the
kings words, a silence broken by angry
cries.
What does he mean? Take his place
on the gallows! A trick--a trick"
Louis grinned complacently.
4