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"Upon my soul, so it's you, 'Joannes Frollo de Molendino!'" cried one of theht-haired i to the acanthus leaves of a capital; "you are well nas have the air of four wings fluttering on the breeze How long have you been here?"

"By the mercy of the devil," retorted Joannes Frollo, "these four hours and more; and I hope that they will be reckoned toof Sicily intone the first verse of seven o'clock ers!" replied the other, "with voices evenashould have inquired whether Monsieur Saint John likes Latin droned out in a Provençal accent"

"He did it for the sake of e of Sicily!" cried an old wo the crowd beneath the"I just put it to you! A thousand ~livres parisi~ for a mass! and out of the tax on sea fish in the markets of Paris, to boot!"

"Peace, old crone," said a tall, grave person, stopping up his nose on the side towards the fishwife; "a ain?"

"Bravely spoken, Sire Gilles Lecornu, 's robes!" cried the little student, clinging to the capital

A shout of laughter froreeted the unlucky na's robes

"Lecornu! Gilles Lecornu!" said some

"~Cornutus et hirsutus~, horned and hairy," another went on

"He! of course," continued the s at? An honorable man is Gilles Lecornu, brother of Master Jehan Lecornu, provost of the king's house, son of Master Mahiet Lecornu, first porter of the Bois de Vincennes,--all bourgeois of Paris, allfurrier, without uttering a word in reply, tried to escape all the eyes riveted upon him froe entering the wood, his efforts served only to bury still e, apoplectic face, purple with spite and rage