"This adventure of the astrologer might be turned to my advantage. Here is a chance in a thousand," he muttered to himself, as he paced restlessly on the grass. "I have but to close my eyes and shut my ears and the good Thibaut carries the good Louis to the good Burgundy to-night, and there can be no hanging to-morrow." The girl followed after him, catching at his sleeve to stay him. "What are you talking about?" Villon went on, unheeding her, whispering to himself: "If they cut Gaffer Louis' throat between them, the world were rid of a crooked-witted king, and I free to win Katherine, hold Paris, be the first man in France--" "François, speak to me," Huguette pleaded, but she pleaded in vain. "One would say I were a fool to let such occasion slip through my ten commandments. But I have learned a thing called honour, which I must not lose for the sake of my lady." Huguette flung herself in front of him and stopped his restless walk. "François! François!" "Yes, child, yes." "What does it matter to you what they do with the fool king?" "Abbess, I must have a finger in this pie. Abbess, for the old sake's sake, will you keep me a secret?" The girl looked up at him lovingly. "I will always do your bidding." "I have a mind to play my part in this enterprise. I am the king of the Cockleshells and I have returned to authority. Give me your pilgrim's gown, girl, and mind, not a word to the brotherhood. I want to take friend Thibaut by surprise." As he spoke, he pulled off the pilgrim's gown, and Huguette stood before him in her familiar boy's dress of green. "Hide among the roses until the sport begins," he cried. The girl flung her arms about him. "Dear François!" she cried, and then ran swiftly away from him and disappeared into the rose-scented night. Villon looked after the girl as she ran. "The girl is as fleet as a hare and as wild witted," he said to himself. Then he flung Huguette from his thoughts and faced the great problem. "How does the balance go?" he asked himself, and he weighed the air with his hands as if their cups held the precious things he spoke of. "In the one hand, a great king's life; in the other, a poor poet's honour. King, beggar, beggar, king."