made
a demonstration against the Church of St. Mathurin after chalices, and
were ignominiously chased away by barking dogs. Then Tabary fell out
with Casin Chollet, one of the fellows who stole ducks in Paris Moat,
who subsequently became a sergeant of the Chatelet and distinguished
himself by misconduct, followed by imprisonment and public castigation,
during the wars of Louis Eleventh. The quarrel was not conducted with a
proper regard to the King's peace, and the pair publicly belaboured each
other until the police stepped in, and Master Tabary was cast once more
into the prisons of the Bishop. While he still lay in durance, another
job was cleverly executed by the band in broad daylight, at the
Augustine Monastery. Brother Guillaume Coiffier was beguiled by an
accomplice to St. Mathurin to say mass; and during his absence, his
chamber was entered and five or six hundred crowns in money and some
silver plate successfully abstracted. A melancholy man was Coiffier on
his return! Eight crowns from this adventure were forwarded by little
Thibault to the incarcerated Tabary; and with these he bribed the jailer
and reappeared in Paris taverns. Some time before or shortly after this,
Villon set out for Angers, as he had promised in the "Small Testament."
The object of this excursion was not merely to avoid the presence of his
cruel mistress or the strong arm of Noe le Joly, but to plan a
deliberate robbery on his uncle the monk. As soon as he had properly
studied the ground, the others were to go over in force from
Paris--picklocks and all--and away with my uncle's strongbox! This
throws a comical side-light on his own accusation against his relatives,
that they had "forgotten natural duty" and disowned him because he was
poor. A poor relation is a distasteful circumstance at the best, but a
poor relation who plans deliberate robberies against those of his blood,
and trudges hundreds of weary leagues to put them into execution, is
surely a little on the wrong side of toleration. The uncle at Angers may
have been monstrously undutiful; but the nephew from Paris was upsides
with him.

On the 23rd April, that venerable and discreet person, Master Pierre
Marchand, Curate and Prior of Paray-le-Monial, in the diocese of
Chartres, arrived in Paris and put up at the sign of the Three
Chandeliers, in the Rue de la Huchette. Next day, or the day after, as
he was breakfasting at the sign of the Armchair, he fell into talk with
two c