The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1914-07-16

loose. His heart gave leap. and he
sprang two steps back and stared
dreadfully at the obstacle Then he
gave little laugh of relief. 1t was only
woman, and she dead He knelt be-
side her to make sure upon this latte!
point. She was freezing cold and rigid
like Il stick. A little ragged finery
tiuttered in the wind about her hair.
and her cheeks had been heavily
rouged that same afternoon. Her pock-
cts were quite empty, but in her stock
ing underneath the garter Villon found
two of the small coins that went by the
| name of whites. 1t was little enough,
but it was always something. and the
poet was moved with deep sense Of
pathos that she should have died be-
fore she had spent her money.
While these thoughts were passing
| through his mind he was feeling half
mechanically for his purse. Suddenly
his heart stopped beating. A feeling
| of cold scales passed up the back OF
his legs and a cold blow seemed to
fall upon his scalp. He stood petrifed
for moment; then he felt again with
one feverish movement; then his loss
burst upon him. He cursed. He threw
| the two whites into the street. He
shook his fist at heaven. He stamp
ed and was not Mortified to find him
self trampling the poor corpse. Then
he began rapidly to retrace his steps
| toward the house beside the cemetery
He had forgotten all fear of the patrol.
| which was long gone by at any rate,
and had no idea but that of his lost
purse. It was in vain that he looked
| right and left upon the snow. Nothing
| was to be seen. He had not dropped
it in the streets. Had it fallen in the
house? He would have liked dearly to
go in and see, but the idea of the grisly
occupant unnamed him, and he saw
besides as he drew near that their eff
! forts to put out the fire had been IN
| successful. On the contrary, it had
| broken into blaze, and a changeful
| light played in the chinks of door and
window and revived his terror for the
authorities and Paris gibbet.
! He returned to the hotel with the
! porch and CROPPED about upon the
snow for the money he had thrown
| away in his childish passion. But he
| could only find one white: the other
! had probably struck sideways and
sunk deeply in. With a single white in
his pocket all his projects for rous-
ing night in some wild tavern vanish
| ed utterly away. And it was not only
pleasure that fled laughing from his
grasp: positive discomfort, positive
pain, attacked him as he stood ruefuly
| before the porch. His perspiration had
| dried upon him, and although the wind
had now fallen binding frost was
| setting in stronger with every hour,
| and he felt benumbed and sick at
heart. What was to be done? Late as
| was the hour, improbable as was sue
cess. he would try the house of his
| adopted father. the chaplain of st. Be-
| mott.
He ran there ali the way and knock
ed timidly. There was no answer. He
| knocked again and again. taking heart
! with every stroke. and at last steps
were heard approaching from within.
| A barred wicket fell open in the iron
studded door and emitted a gush of
| yellow light.
Hold up your face to the wicket"
said the chaplain from within
TITS only me-" whimpered Villon.
"Oh. it's only you. is it," returned
the chaplain, and be cursed him with
foul, unpriestly oaths for disturbing
him at such an hour and babe him be
off to hell where he came from.
| my hands are blue to the wrist
pleaded Villon; "my feet are dead and
full Of twings: my nose aches with the
sharp air; the cold lies at my heart.
may be dead before morning. Only
this once. father, and, before God.
will never ask again.
| "You should have come earlier" said
the ecclesiastic coolly. Young men
require lesson now and then" He
shut the wicket and retired deliberate
~ into the interior of the house.
| Villon was beside himself. He beat
upon the door with his hands and feet
and shouted hoarsely after the chap
lain.
| A door shut in the interior, family
audible to the poet down long pas
sages. He passed his hand over his
mouth with an oath. And then the
humor of the situation struck him, and
he laughed and looked lightly up to
heaven, where the stars seemed to be
winking over his discontinue
| What was to be done? 1t looked
very like night in the frosty Streets
The idea Of the dead woman popped
into his imagination and gave him a
hearty fright; what had happened to
her in the early night might very we'll
happen to him before morning.
He passed all his chances under re-
view. turning the white. between his
thumb and forefnger. Unfortunately
he was on bad terms with some old
friends who would once have taken
pity on him in such plight. He had
lampooned them in verses; he had
beaten and cheated them, and yet now
when he was in SO close a pinch, he
/ 49,.