and as he was calling the roll of his favourite dainties,
roast fish presented itself to his mind with an odd mixture of amusement
and horror.

"I shall never finish that ballade," he thought to himself; and then,
with another shudder at the recollection, "Oh, damn his fat head!" he
repeated fervently, and spat upon the snow.

The house in question looked dark at first sight; but as Villon made a
preliminary inspection in search of the handiest point of attack, a
little twinkle of light caught his eye from behind a curtained window.

"The devil!" he thought. "People awake! Some student or some saint,
confound the crew! Can't they get drunk and lie in bed snoring like
their neighbours! What's the good of curfew, and poor devils of
bell-ringers jumping at a rope's-end in bell-towers? What's the use of
day, if people sit up all night? The gripes to them!" He grinned as he
saw where his logic was leading him. "Every man to his business, after
all," added he, "and if they're awake, by the lord, I may come by a
supper honestly for this once, and cheat the devil."

He went boldly to the door and knocked with an assured hand. On both
previous occasions, he had knocked timidly and with some dread of
attracting notice; but now, when he had just discarded the thought of a
burglarious entry, knocking at a door seemed a mighty simple and
innocent proceeding. The sound of his blows echoed through the house
with thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though it were quite empty; but
these had scarcely died away before a measured tread drew near, a couple
of bolts were withdrawn, and one wing was opened broadly, as though no
guile or fear of guile were known to those within. A tall figure of a
man, muscular and spare, but a little bent, confronted Villon. The head
was in massive bulk, but finely sculptured; the nose blunt at the
bottom, but refining upward to where it joined a pair of strong and
honest eyebrows; the mouth and eyes surrounded with delicate markings,
and the whole face based upon a thick white beard, boldly and squarely
trimmed. Seen as it was by the light of a flickering hand-lamp, it
looked perhaps nobler than it had a right to do; but it was a fine face,
honourable rather than intelligent, strong, simple, and righteous.

"You knock late, sir," said the old man in resonant, courteous tones.

Villon cringed, and brought up many servile words of apology; at a
crisis of this sort the beggar was uppermost in him, and the