Mother Villon shook her head wistfully.
"They say he is banished, but he has sent me money, bless him! though I touch none of it, lest it be badly come by."
Trois-Echelles stopped fumbling his beads and advanced towards her, extending his hand.
"Give it to me to spend on masses?" he asked sanctimoniously.
Petit-Jean danced between them.
"Lend it to me for drink money," he urged.
The old woman paid no heed to their proposals. Her tired eyes had caught sight of the grim structure in wood which usurped a place in a familiar scene. She shaded her eyes and peered at it, asking:
"For whom do you build this gallows?"
The glum hangman answered gloomily:
"Oddly enough, we don't know. 'Make me a gallows here,' says the Constable, 'in the open place, and sieges for the king and his courtiers.'"