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He was tired of the baffling struggle. "Open the door!" he shouted noisily, and the cry stirred Villon to a more vehement assault. He sprang like a cat at the giant, flashed the lantern dazzlingly in his eyes, and as Thibaut, furious, made a wild lunge at him, Villon dexterously swung his lantern on to his enemy's sword point and in another second had driven his own blade into Thibaut's side.
Twice did Lothaire, in conjunction with Count Thibaut de Chartres, a young nobleman who envied the fame of Richard, attempt to assassinate him at a conference; and the former, despairing of ridding himself of him by treachery, assembled an army of fifty thousand men, entered Normandy, and besieged Rouen.
"Then is the old man a fool on every count," declared Messire Heleigh, sighing, "for I have heard of his earlier antics in Provence, and no lovelier lady breathes than Dame Alianora." "I consider Queen Freydis to be the handsomer of the two," replied Thibaut, "but certainly there is no comparing either of these inestimable ladies with Dom Manuel's swarthy drab."
This, he always says, would best have pleased his mother. He will never leave Dr. Derwent. The good Thibaut!" All were silent for a minute; then Piers pushed back his chair. "Work?" said Mrs. Hannaford, with a little note of allusion to last evening. "Work!" Piers replied grimly, his eyes down. "Well, now," exclaimed Irene, turning to her cousin, "what shall we do this splendid morning?
Thibaut, glaring at his enemies as a bull might glare at barking dogs, asked savagely of the poet who was brandishing his sword: "Who the devil are you?" Villon flung has head back defiantly and flourished his sword. "I am François Villon, and my sword is as good as another man's." The moment the name fell on Thibaut's ears the giant gave a giant's laugh. "Are you François Villon?" he thundered.
He turned to enter the tower, but as he did so the tower door was pushed out against him and he found himself face to face with Noel le Jolys. Noel started in astonishment at the sight of his rival, but Villon caught him by the wrist. The poor popinjay was too brave a bird to be Thibaut d'Aussigny's decoy-duck.
THIBAUT. I give to each a yard, a stall and herd, And also thirty acres; and as God Gave me his blessing, so I give you mine! Gladden our father follow our example! Let this day see three unions ratified! THIBAUT. Now go; make all things ready; for the morn Shall see the wedding. Let our village friends Be all assembled for the festival.
Thibaut shrugged his shoulders. "It would have profited you little if you had," he said, as he broke the seal and turning aside stooped a little to read by the faint fire light what the letter said.
Or, again, M. Thibaut, who writes under the name of "Anatole France," gives footnotes by the score in his romance of Joan of Arc, apparently not even caring to examine whether they so much as refer to his text, let alone support it. They seem to have been done by contract.
"I am Thibaut d'Aussigny, sire, whom you thought to be dead, but who lives to prison you." As he spoke his companions emerged from the gloom and gathered around Thibaut and the king, a little menacing circle of determined men. "You are in the toils. Silent you are still a man; give tongue and you are simple carrion. You must come to the knees of Burgundy. You shall be the Duke's footstool!"
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