and rushed through the open door into the shining moonlit street. The rest trailed after him, wandering stars in the tail of a dishonourable comet, shouting, screaming, laughing, pushing, panting, eager for the promised sport.
"I'll crown the victor!" cried Montigny as he ran—and "I'll console the vanquished!" shouted Jehan le Loup, as he brought up the rear of the road and vanished, clattering, into the night. Only Huguette remained of all the fellowship, and she turned instinctively to Villon when he crouched over the dying fire.
"Will you come, François?" she whispered softly. Villon lifted his head for a moment from his hands to signify a refusal.
"Nay, I am reading."
Huguette blazed out at him a fierce "You lie!" which failed to move the poet from his melancholy resolve.
"A man may read without book," he said. "Go your ways, girl, and skelp both the hussies!" He drooped into a dejected heap again, oblivious of the girl, who looked at him half sadly, half angrily for an instant, and then disappeared in her turn into the causeway, calling upon her knavish heralds to wait for her.
