fingers, and sat down by his mother's side on the settle, in peace.
"Did they frighten you, mammy?" he whispered. "But they meant no harm. Boys and girls, girls and boys."
The old woman put her arms tightly about him. Villon grimaced. Her loving touch was as painful as a hostile one to his bruised body, but he made no attempt to repress her embrace.
"Come home, François," she said. "Come home. Where have you been these three days?"
Villon caressed the old woman very tenderly, as he answered:
"Very busy, mammy—state secrets. Mum's the word. How did you find me out?"
"They told me at the Unicorn," the old woman said, "that I might find you here."
Villon made a gesture of contempt.
"Oh, the Unicorn is no longer fashionable. They want payment on the nail there, confound them! Besides, this is nearer the walls and we can hear the Burgundians shouting. It is as good as a relish with our wine."
Mother Villon shook her grey head sadly.
"Come away," she entreated. "You have had wine enough."
