The noisy voices dropped slowly into silence to hear what the king said.
"Good people of Paris, I am no tyrant. But a king is the father of his people, and his ears can never be shut against the cries of his children. You all love this man? Hear, then, my judgment! This man's life is forfeit. Which of you will redeem it? If there be one among you ready to take Master François Villon's place on yonder gibbet, let that one speak now."
There was a brief silence as the mob began to realize the meaning of the king's words, a silence broken by angry cries.
"What does he mean? Take his place on the gallows! A trick—a trick!"
Louis grinned complacently.
"No trick, friends, but a simple bargain. Here is a man condemned to death; here is an idle gibbet. If ye prize him so highly, let one among you die for him. It has been said by the wise Apostle: 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' On my word as a king, when such a splendid volunteer is swinging at the end of yonder rope that moment Master François Villon shall go free. Come, who will slip neck in noose for the sake of a hero?"
Villon protested haughtily:
"No man shall die for me."
But, indeed, his protest was premature. The anger of the crowd dwindled into sullen clamours.
"The king laughs at us! 'Tis too much to ask."