descended the steps and was moving across the grass to greet her hero, who stood with clasped hands in the moonlight like a man struck dumb. Katherine was carrying in her hands a crimson scarf fringed with gold, and she lifted it to him as she spoke.
"Wear this with my prayers. With it, I give you my hand and heart. You shall carry my plighted troth with you into the battle. Let me tell my love to all the world."
Swiftly and lightly she threw it about his neck before he could find words, but now he spoke:
"Wait, wait! You must say no more until you know me."
The girl's eyes widened with surprise.
"Do I not know you?"
Villon thrust his face forward very close to hers.
"Look into my face," he said. "Look well. Do you see nothing there that reminds you of other hours?"
Katherine smiled divinely.
"Of happy hours in this rose garden."
Villon insisted fiercely:
"No, no! Of a dark night, a tavern, a cloaked woman, a sordid fellow dreaming sottishly by the fire, a prayer, a love-tale and a promise, a crowd of bullies and wantons, a quarrel, a fight with sword
