or
sunny lightness. She was Ursula de Vesc, and that was enough, Ursula
de Vesc, the woman of a single hour of life, and yet the one sweet
woman in the world.

"A lover's arms ought to be her riding-chair," said Villon, following
La Mothe's gaze. "No, there is no offence meant," he added, as
Stephen's face reddened with the beginnings of umbrage. "She may be a
spitfire and not love Francois Villon, but she is a good girl, and my
four eyes are not blind."

"Your four eyes?" questioned La Mothe; "most of us have but two."

"Two in my head and two in my sense, and it is by the two in his sense
a man should marry. The two in the head are the greatest liars and
deceivers in creation."

The Dauphin had already mounted when La Mothe and Villon crossed the
roadway with their horses following, led by drunken Michel's
substitute, and his greeting to both was of the curtest. The apologue
of the night before was neither forgotten nor forgiven. But with
Ursula de Vesc's grey eyes smiling at him La Mothe cared little for the
boy's dour looks. Hugues, who had mounted his master, still waited by
the horse's head, a spirited, high-bred bay, sleek and well groomed,
which stood shifting its feet with impatience at the delay. The bridle
of the less fiery but no less well-cared-for jennet intended for the
girl was held by a stable-helper, while in a group behind the escort
made ready to mount. Neither Commines nor La Follette was present;
they had gone hawking, as Saxe had said, nor was Hugues booted for
riding.

"Good morning, Monsieur La Mothe." Ursula de Vesc spoke gaily,
frankly, as if she had not a care in the world, and the greeting in the
soft clear voice stirred La Mothe's heart as the smile in the grey eyes
had stirred it. "We missed you at breakfast: what early risers you
poets are."

"Mademoiselle," stammered La Mothe, "my day has but now begun."

"Then you must walk in your sleep," she interrupted laughingly.
"Monseigneur, do you hear? Monsieur La Mothe walks in his sleep. So
do not be frightened if you hear him in the corridor o' nights. He has
been up these three hours and says the day has only now begun."

"I hear," replied Charles, turning on La Mothe those dull, watchful
eyes which, according to Villon, saw so much more than men supposed.
"And Hugues hears too. While Hugues sleeps at my door I shan't be
frightened. Come, Ursula, mount and let us go. Bertrand is so restive
I can scarcely hold him