"You will pardon me if I go in front," he said, when this was done;
and he preceded the poet upstairs into a large apartment, warmed
with a pan of charcoal and lit by a great lamp hanging from the
roof. It was very bare of furniture: only some gold plate on a
sideboard; some folios; and a stand of armour between the windows.
Some smart tapestry hung upon the walls, representing the
crucifixion of our Lord in one piece, and in another a scene of
shepherds and shepherdesses by a running stream. Over the chimney
was a shield of arms.
"Will you seat yourself," said the old man, "and forgive me if I
leave you? I am alone in my house to-night, and if you are to eat
I must forage for you myself."
No sooner was his host gone than Villon leaped from the chair on
which he had just seated himself, and began examining the room,
with the stealth and passion of a cat. He weighed the gold flagons
in his hand, opened all the folios, and investigated the arms upon
the shield, and the stuff with which the seats were lined. He
raised the window curtains, and saw that the windows were set with
rich stained glass in figures, so far as he could see, of martial
import. Then he stood in the middle of the room, drew a long
breath, and retaining it with puffed cheeks, looked round and round
him, turning on his heels, as if to impress every feature of the
apartment on his memory.
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