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Algorithms Illuminated
Part 3: Greedy Algorithms and Dynamic
Programming
Tim Roughgarden
c 2019 by Tim Roughgarden
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form
without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U. S. copyright
law.
First Edition
Preface vii
14 Huffman Codes 23
14.1 Codes 23
14.2 Codes as Trees 28
14.3 Huffman’s Greedy Algorithm 32
*14.4 Proof of Correctness 41
Problems 49
v
vi Contents
Index 211
Preface
vii
viii Preface
This series of books has only one goal: to teach the basics of algorithms
in the most accessible way possible. Think of them as a transcript
of what an expert algorithms tutor would say to you over a series of
one-on-one lessons.
There are a number of excellent more traditional and encyclopedic
textbooks about algorithms, any of which usefully complement this
book series with additional details, problems, and topics. I encourage
you to explore and find your own favorites. There are also several
books that, unlike these books, cater to programmers looking for
ready-made algorithm implementations in a specific programming
language. Many such implementations are freely available on the Web
as well.
x Preface
Additional Resources
These books are based on online courses that are currently running
on the Coursera and Stanford Lagunita platforms. I’ve made several
resources available to help you replicate as much of the online course
experience as you like.
Videos. If you’re more in the mood to watch and listen than
to read, check out the YouTube video playlists available from
www.algorithmsilluminated.org. These videos cover all the topics
in this book series, as well as additional advanced topics. I hope they
exude a contagious enthusiasm for algorithms that, alas, is impossible
to replicate fully on the printed page.
Quizzes. How can you know if you’re truly absorbing the concepts
in this book? Quizzes with solutions and explanations are scattered
throughout the text; when you encounter one, I encourage you to
pause and think about the answer before reading on.
End-of-chapter problems. At the end of each chapter you’ll find
several relatively straightforward questions for testing your under-
Preface xi
Acknowledgments
These books would not exist without the passion and hunger supplied
by the hundreds of thousands of participants in my algorithms courses
over the years. I am particularly grateful to those who supplied
detailed feedback on an earlier draft of this book: Tonya Blust, Yuan
Cao, Carlos Guia, Jim Humelsine, Vladimir Kokshenev, Bayram
Kuliyev, and Daniel Zingaro.
I always appreciate suggestions and corrections from readers.
These are best communicated through the discussion forums men-
tioned above.
Tim Roughgarden
New York, NY
April 2019
Chapter 13
1
2 Introduction to Greedy Algorithms
The first half of this book is about the greedy algorithm design
paradigm. What is a greedy algorithm, exactly? Much blood and ink
have been spilled over this question, so we’ll content ourselves with
an informal definition.1
The best way to get a feel for greedy algorithms is through exam-
ples. We’ll see several over the next few chapters.2
Warning
Most greedy algorithms are not always correct.
Our first case study concerns scheduling, in which the goal is to sched-
ule tasks on one or more shared resources to optimize some objective.
For example, a resource could represent a computer processor (with
tasks corresponding to jobs), a classroom (with tasks corresponding
to lectures), or your calendar for the day (with tasks corresponding
to meetings).
Completion Times
Quiz 13.1
Consider a problem instance that has three jobs with `1 = 1,
`2 = 2, and `3 = 3, and suppose they are scheduled in this
order (with job 1 first). What are the completion times
of the three jobs in this schedule? (The job weights are
irrelevant for this question, so we have not specified them.)
a) 1, 2, and 3
b) 3, 5, and 6
c) 1, 3, and 6
d) 1, 4, and 6
3 · 1 + |{z}
|{z} 2 · 3 + |{z}
1 · 6 = 15.
job #1 job #2 job #3
6 Introduction to Greedy Algorithms
Greedy algorithms seem like a good fit for the problem of scheduling
jobs to minimize the weighted sum of completion times. The output
has an iterative structure, with jobs processed one by one. Why not
6
For example, n! is bigger than 3.6 million when n = 10, bigger than 2.4
quintillion when n = 20, and bigger than the estimated number of atoms in the
known universe when n 60. Thus no conceivable improvement in computer
technology would transmute exhaustive search into a useful algorithm.
13.3 Developing a Greedy Algorithm 7
job #3
time
3
job #2
1
job #1
0
Figure 13.1: The completion times of the three jobs are 1, 3, and 6.
Quiz 13.2
a) larger/shorter
b) smaller/shorter
c) larger/longer
d) smaller/longer
In the general case, jobs can have different weights and different
lengths. Whenever our two rules-of-thumb—to prefer shorter jobs
and higher-weight jobs—luckily coincide for a pair of jobs, we know
which one to schedule first (the shorter, higher-weight one). But what
if the two rules give conflicting advice? What should we do with one
short low-weight job and one long high-weight job?
What’s the simplest greedy algorithm that might work? Each
job has two parameters, and the algorithm must look at both. The
best-case scenario would be to come up with a formula that compiles
each job’s length and weight into a single score, so that scheduling
jobs from highest to lowest score is guaranteed to minimize the sum of
weighted completion times. If such a formula exists, our two special
cases imply that it must have two properties: (i) holding the length
fixed, it should be increasing in the job’s weight; and (ii) holding the
weight fixed, it should be decreasing in the job’s length. (Remember,
higher scores are better.) Take a minute to brainstorm some formulas
that have both of these properties.
* * * * * * * * * * *
There are plenty of other options. For example, the ratio of the
two parameters is another candidate:
wj
proposal #2 for score of job j: .
`j
These two scoring functions lead to two different greedy algo-
rithms.
GreedyDiff
Schedule the jobs in decreasing order of wj `j
(breaking ties arbitrarily).
GreedyRatio
wj
Schedule the jobs in decreasing order of `j
(breaking ties arbitrarily).
Thus, already, our first case study illustrates the first theme of the
greedy paradigm (Section 13.1.2): It is often easy to propose multiple
competing greedy algorithms for a problem.
Which of the two algorithms, if any, is correct? A quick way to
rule out one of them is to find an instance in which the two algorithms
output different schedules, with different objective function values.
For whichever algorithm fares worse in this example, we can conclude
that it is not always optimal.
Both algorithms do the right thing in our two special cases, with
equal-weight or equal-length jobs. The simplest possible example for
ruling out one of them would be a problem instance with two jobs,
having different weights and lengths, such that the two algorithms
schedule the jobs in opposite orders. That is, we seek two jobs whose
ordering by difference is the opposite of their ordering by ratio. One
simple example is:
Job #1 Job #2
Length `1 = 5 `2 = 2
Weight w1 = 3 w2 = 1.
The first job has the larger ratio ( 35 vs. 12 ) but the smaller (more
negative) difference ( 2 vs. 1). Thus the GreedyDiff algorithm
schedules the second job first, while GreedyRatio does the opposite.
10 Introduction to Greedy Algorithms
Quiz 13.3
What is the sum of weighted completion times in the sched-
ules output by the GreedyDiff and GreedyRatio algorithms,
respectively?
a) 22 and 23
b) 23 and 22
c) 17 and 17
d) 17 and 11
Correct answer: (a). First suppose that all n jobs have the same
length, say length 1. Then, every schedule has exactly the same
set of completion times—{1, 2, 3, . . . , n}—and the only question is
which job gets which completion time. Our semantics for job weights
certainly suggests that the higher-weight jobs should receive the
smaller completion times, and this is in fact the case. For example,
you wouldn’t want to schedule a job with weight 10 third (with
completion time 3) and one with weight 20 fifth (with completion
time 5); you’d be better off exchanging the positions of these two jobs,
which would decrease the sum of weighted completion times by 20 (as
you should check).
The second case, in which all jobs have equal weights, is a little
more subtle. Here, you want to favor shorter jobs. For example,
consider two unit-weight jobs with lengths 1 and 2. If you schedule
the shorter job first, the completion times are 1 and 3, for a total
of 4. In the opposite order, the completion times are 2 and 3, for
an inferior total of 5. In general, the job scheduled first contributes
to the completion times of all the jobs, as all jobs must wait for
the first one to finish. All else being equal, scheduling the shortest
job first minimizes this negative impact. The second job contributes
12 Introduction to Greedy Algorithms
to all the completion times other than that of the first job, so the
second-shortest job should be scheduled next, and so on.
w1 · C1 + w2 · C2 = 3 · 7 + 1 · 2 = 23.
3 · 5 + 1 · 7 = 22.
Two Assumptions
wi wj
(2) There are no ties between ratios: `i 6= `j whenever
i 6= j.
job #n
..........
job #3
time
job #2
job #1
σ
more more
stuff stuff
j i
exchange!
i j
time
time
stuff stuff
σ* σ’
(a) Before exchange (b) After exchange
Figure 13.3: Obtaining the new schedule 0 from the allegedly optimal
schedule ⇤ by exchanging the jobs in a consecutive inversion (with i > j).
Quiz 13.4
What effect does the exchange have on the completion time
of: (i) a job other than i or j; (ii) the job i; and (iii) the
job j?
That was yesterday. And now this outburst of rage! It was unbelievable!
Madame Jacqueline of a truth was hot-tempered and passionate—how
could she help being otherwise, seeing that she had been indulged and
adulated ever since, poor mite of three, she had lost both father and mother
and had been under the guardianship of Monseigneur d'Inchy and of half a
dozen other gentlemen. Never, however, had Colle seen her quite like this,
and for such a worthless cause! Colle could scarce credit her eyes and ears.
And alas! there was no mistaking the flood of heartrending weeping which
followed. Jacqueline sat huddled up in her chair, her face buried in her
hands, sobbing and weeping as if her heart would break.
II
All the obstinacy in the worthy old soul melted away in an instant,
giving place to heartrending remorse. She fell on her knees, she took the
small feet of her adored mistress in her hands and kissed them and wept
over them and cried and lamented tearfully.
'Lord God, what have I done?' she called out from the depths of her
misery. 'My dove, my cabbage! Look at me—look at thy old Colle! Dost
not know that I would far sooner bite my tongue out than say one word that
would offend thee? My lamb, wilt not look at Colle?—I vow—I swear that
I'll die here on the spot at thy feet, if thou'lt not smile on me!'
Gradually as the old woman wept and pleaded, Jacqueline became more
calm. The sobs no longer shook her shoulders, but she still kept her face
hidden in her hands. A few minutes went by. Colle had buried her old head
in the young girl's lap, and after a while Jacqueline, regally condescending
to forgive, allowed her hand to fall on the bowed head of the repentant
sinner.
'I'll only forgive thee, Colle,' she said with solemn earnestness, 'if Pierre
doth not lay a finger upon that heavenly singer—but, if he does——'
Colle struggled to her feet as quickly as her stiff joints would allow.
'I'll go and find the varlet myself,' she said fiercely, ready to betray with
cowardly baseness the confederate of awhile ago, now that she had
propitiated the mistress whom she adored. 'M. de Landas hath not yet left
the Palace, and if Pierre dares but raise his hand against that mal—hem!—
against the noble singer whom thou dost honour with thine attention, well!
he'll have to reckon with old Colle; that is all!'
'Go, Colle!' she said eagerly. 'Go at once, ere it be too late and that fool
Pierre——'
The words died upon her lips. The next instant she had jumped down
from her chair and run to the window. From some distance down the street
there had come, suddenly wafted upon the wings of the wind, the sound of a
voice singing the well-known verses of Messire de Ronsard:
'Mignonne, allons voir si la rose
Qui ce matin avait desclose
Sa robe de pourpre au soleil
A point perdu cette vesprée
Les plis de sa robe pourprée
Et son teint au vostre pareil.'[1]
Jacqueline knelt upon the window-seat, but she could see nothing, so she
turned back piteously to murmur to old Colle: 'Oh! if I could only see him!'
The old woman, after the experience of the past few minutes, was ready
to do anything, however abject, to further her mistress' desire.
'Put on thy mask, my pigeon,' she said, 'and then lean well out of the
window; but not too far, for fear M. de Landas should happen to be passing
in the courtyard and should see thee with thy hair down. No, no!' added the
old hypocrite obsequiously, 'there is no harm in listening to so sweet a
singer. I'll get thy purse, too, and thou canst throw him a coin or two. No
doubt the poor fellow is down-at-heels and only sings to earn his supper.'
And humble, fussy, still snivelling, Nicolle shuffled across the room,
found the satin mask and brought it to her mistress. Jacqueline fixed it over
her face; then she leaned as far out of the window as she dared to do
without fear of falling out. And, if M. de Landas saw her, why! he would be
so gladdened at the sight that he would have no ear for a mere street
musician, whilst she—Jacqueline—was just now in so soft a mood that if
M. de Landas happened to scale the wall to her casement-window—as he
had more than once threatened to do—she would return his kisses in a way
that she had never done before.
For she was deeply in love with M. de Landas, had been for years. She
had plighted her troth to him when she was a mere child, and she loved him
—oh yes! she loved him very, very much, only...
III
There was the width of the courtyard and the tall wall between
Jacqueline and the street where stood the singer whom she so longed to see.
She had caught sight of him yesterday when, to Nicolle's horror, he had
boldly scaled the wall and then had lingered for nigh on half an hour
beneath her window, singing one merry song after another, till her young
heart had been filled with a new joy, the cause of which she herself could
not quite comprehend.
She had watched him unseen, fearful lest some of the serving-men
should see him and drive him away. Fortunately Chance had been all in
favour of her new romance. M. de Landas was on duty at the Forts that
night; her guardian was still closeted with some other grave seigneurs, and
the serving-men were no doubt too busy to trouble about a harmless
minstrel. As for the wenches about the place, they had stood about in the
doorways, listening with delight at the impassioned songs and gaping in
admiration at the splendid bearing of the unknown cavalier.
Thus the singer had stood in the courtyard for some considerable time,
his martial figure silhouetted against the clear, moonlit sky, his voice rising
and falling in perfect cadence to the accompaniment of a soft-toned lute,
whilst Jacqueline, hidden within the shadow of the window-embrasure,
listened spellbound, her whole youth, her ardent, loving soul exultant at this
romance which was taking birth at her feet.
And now he had come back, and the very night seemed to bid him
welcome. It was still quite early in March, yet the air was soft as spring. All
day the birds had been twittering under the eaves, and on the west wind had
come wafted gently the scent of budding almond blossom and of the life-
giving sap in the branches of the trees.
The stately city with its towers and steeples and cupolas lay bathed in the
light of the honey-coloured moon. Far away on the right, the elegant church
of Saint Géry up on the Mont-des-Boeufs seemed like a bar of silver which
attached old Cambray to the star-studded firmament above, and around it
were grouped the tall steeples of St. Martin, St. Waast and St. Aubert, with
the fine hexagon of Martin et Martine which crowned the Town Hall;
whilst, dominating this forest of perfect and rich architecture, was the mass
of the cathedral close by, with its tall pointed steeple, its flying buttresses,
its numberless delicate pinnacles picked out as by a fairy hand against the
background of deep azure.
But Jacqueline de Broyart had for the nonce no eyes for all that beauty.
What cared she if the wintry moon outlined all these lovely heights with
delicate lines of silver? What cared she if the shadows of stately edifices
appeared full of a golden glow by contrast with the cold blue of the lights?
Her eyes were fixed, not on the tower of St. Géry nor on the steeple of
Notre Dame: they rested upon that high and cruel wall which hid the
unknown singer from her sight.
And her fancy went soaring into a world of romance—a world far away
from the sordid strifes, the political intrigues, the quarrels of to-day; a world
wherein men were all handsome and brave and women were all free to
grant them their hand to kiss, to listen to their songs, to reward their
prowess, to receive their homage unfettered by convention—a world, in
fact, such as Messire de Froissart had chronicled and of which Messire
Villon had sung so exquisitely.
Then suddenly Jacqueline's dreams were rudely interrupted, as was also
the song of the unseen minstrel. Loud voices were raised and there was a
clash which made Jacqueline's very heart turn cold in her bosom.
But Colle had shuffled out of the room some little while ago, in search of
Pierre, no doubt, whom evidently she had failed to find. And out there
behind that cruel wall the rough hands of that abominable varlet were being
laid on the precious person of the unsuspecting minstrel. Jacqueline felt
literally paralysed both with terror and with wrath. Colle had spoken of
Pierre's stout arm and still stouter stick, but there was also the possibility of
M. de Landas himself being about, and then—oh, then! ... Ye heavens
above! anything might happen! ... Oh! the wicked, wicked old woman and
that execrable Pierre! ... and ... and of course M. de Landas' jealousy was
sometimes terrifying!
The noise of the scuffle in the street became louder and louder. There
were cries of rage as well as of pain. Blows were evidently raining freely—
on whom? My God, on whom? Then, from further up the street, came the
sound of running footsteps as well as the stern voice of the night watchmen
hurrying to the scene. Jacqueline would have bartered some years of her life
to see what was going on the other side of the wall. Only a minute or two
had gone by: to the young girl it had seemed like hours of suspense. And
now these people all rushing along, no doubt in order to give a hand to
Pierre—to fall on the unarmed minstrel—to lay hands upon him—to
belabour him with sticks—to wound or hurt him—to——
Jacqueline uttered a loud cry of horror. It was the echo of one of terror,
of pain and of rage which came from the other side of the wall. The next
moment a dark mass appeared over the top of the wall, silhouetted against
the moonlit sky. To Jacqueline's straining eyes it seemed like the body of a
man which, for the space of a brief second, seemed to hover in mid air and
then fell with a dull thud upon the paving-stones of the courtyard below.
Jacqueline closed her eyes. She felt sick and faint. To her ears now came
the sound of loud groans and vigorous curses. And then—oh, then!—loud
laughter and the last bar of the interrupted song—a sound indeed which
caused her at once to open her eyes again; whereupon she, too, could have
laughed and sung for joy. The inert mass still lay in a heap at the foot of the
wall; Jacqueline could vaguely discern its outline in the gloom, whilst up on
the top of the wall, astride, hatless, lute in hand, sat the masked minstrel
with his head turned gazing toward her window.
She clapped her hands with glee, and he, with a loud cry of 'Mignonne!'
swung himself down from the wall and ran across the courtyard until he
came to a halt just beneath her window, and even in the dim light of this
wintry moon Jacqueline thought that she could see his eyes glowing
through the holes in the mask.
And somehow all this longing, all this thirst for a still-unknown
happiness, seemed personified in the singer with the tall, broad stature and
the mellow voice; it was embodied in the honey-coloured moon, in the
glints of silver and gold upon the steeples of Cambray, in the scent of the
spring and the murmurs of the breeze. Jacqueline pressed her hands against
her heart. She was so happy that she could have cried.
Beside her on the window-sill stood a tall vase fashioned of Dutch clay.
It was filled with tall-stemmed Madonna lilies, which had been produced at
great cost in the hot-houses belonging to her own estate in Hainault. Their
powerful scent had filled the room with its fragrance. Without thought or
hesitation, Jacqueline suddenly pulled the sheaf out of the vase and
gathered the flowers in her arms. The tender, juicy stems were wet and she
took her embroidered handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it round
them; then she flung the whole sheaf of lilies out of the window and
watched to see them fall, bruised and sweet-smelling, at the minstrel's feet.
IV
'Thou hast been gone a long time, Colle,' said the young girl carelessly.
'Where hast thou been?'
Old Colle sighed with relief. The Lord be praised! Madame had
evidently seen and heard nothing of that vulgar scuffle which had ended in
such disaster for poor Pierre, and in such a triumph for the impudent rascal
who had since disappeared just as quickly as he came.
'I just went round to see that those wenches were all abed and that their
lights were safely out,' replied the old woman with brazen hypocrisy.
'And didst speak to Pierre on the way?' queried Jacqueline, who had
assumed the quaintest possible air of simple ingenuousness.
'To-morrow's banquet?'
'Do not feign surprise, my pigeon,' rejoined old Colle, who was
decidedly out of humour. 'I even asked thee to-night, before taking off thy
gown, if thou wouldst wear that one or another on the morrow.'
'I remember,' replied Jacqueline with a yawn, 'I said that I did not care
what I wore, as I hated banquets, and company and bowings and——'
'But Monseigneur said that the banquet to-morrow would be for a special
occasion.'
'Oh! I am only putting two and two together, my cabbage,' replied old
Colle with a sly wink. 'There is talk of distinguished guests in Cambray, of
betrothals, and ... and ...
'Betrothals?'
'Why, yes. Thou art nearly twenty, my pigeon, and Monseigneur, thy
guardian, will have to make up his mind that thou wilt marry sooner or
later. I always thought that he did favour Monseigneur de Landas, until
——'
'There are so many rumours in the air,' replied Colle sententiously. 'Some
talk of the Duc d'Anjou, who is own brother to the King of France.'
'A great lady, my cabbage,' said Nicolle solemnly, 'cannot follow the
dictates of her heart like a common wench.'
'No, no! Thank God for that!' assented Colle piously. 'As for the others ...
well! their name is legion ... some of them will be at the banquet to-
morrow.... There is the Marquis de Hancourt, a fine-looking youth, and that
horrid German prince whom I cannot abide! The English lord hath gone
away, so they say, broken-hearted at thy refusal; but there's the Spanish
duke, whose name I cannot remember, and Don José, own son to the
Emperor.... As for that stranger——' she added with a contemptuous shrug
of the shoulders.
'Well, I don't know much about him. But Pierre, feeling crestfallen, did
admit that Monseigneur chided him severely for having shown a want of
respect to a gentleman who ought to have known better than to pretend to
be a street musician.'
'Town gossip,' she went on with great volubility, 'has been busy with that
stranger for the past two days. 'Tis said that he is styled Monseigneur le
Prince de Froidmont; though what a prince should be doing in a shabby
hostel in that squalid quarter of the city I, for one, do not know—nor why
he should be going about masked and cloaked through the city in the guise
of a vagabond.'
'That's what I say,' asserted Colle triumphantly. 'And that's what Pierre
thought until Monseigneur told him that if he did not go at once and offer
his humble apologies he surely would get a flogging, seeing that the Prince
de Froidmont would actually be a guest at the banquet to-morrow, and
would of a certainty complain to M. de Landas.'
'Aye!' assented Colle. 'Didst ever hear the like! But he must be a
distinguished seigneur for all that, or Monseigneur would not bid him
come.'
'No, I suppose not,' said Jacqueline with perfect indifference. 'The Prince
de Froidmont?' she added with a little yawn. 'Is that his name?'
'So the town gossips say,' replied Colle, who was busy just then in
wrapping the bed-gown round her young mistress's shoulders.
'And he comes to the banquet to-morrow?'
Jacqueline said nothing more for the moment, appeared to have lost all
interest in the masked musician and in Pierre's misdeeds. She stretched out
her arms lazily while vigorous old Colle picked her up as if she were a baby
and carried her—as she was wont to do every night—to her bed.
She laid her down upon the soft feather mattress and spread the fine
coverlets over her. The alcove wherein stood the monumental bedstead was
in semi-darkness, for the light from the wax candles in the sconces about
the room failed to penetrate into the recess. But that semi-darkness was
restful, and for awhile Jacqueline lay back against the pillows, with eyes
closed, in a state of that complete well-being which is one of the
monopolies of youth. Nicolle, thinking that Madame would be dropping off
to sleep, made a movement to go; but Jacqueline's small white hand had
hold of the old woman's bony fingers, and old Colle, abjectly happy at
feeling the pressure, remained quite still, waiting and watching, gazing with
doglike devotion on the lovely face—lovely in repose as it was when the
light of gaiety and roguishness danced in the blue eyes.
After a few minutes of this silent beatitude, Jacqueline opened her eyes
and said in a dreamy voice, half-asleep:
She was sufficiently awake to feel quite happy at the thought that
Madame was suddenly taking an interest in her clothes, and continued
eagerly: 'It hath an underdress of that lovely new green colour which hath
become the mode of late, and all embroidered with silver. Nothing more
beautiful hath ever been fashioned by tailors' art, and in it Madame looks
just like an exquisite white lily, with the delicate green stem below.'
'Well then, Colle,' rejoined Jacqueline dreamily, 'to-morrow evening I
will wear my white satin gown with the pearls and the underdress of green
and silver, and Mathurine must study a new way of doing my hair with the
pointed coif which they say is so modish now in France. I will wear my
stockings of crimson silk and my velvet shoes, and round my neck I'll wear
the ropes of pearls which my dear mother did bequeath to me; in my ears I'll
have the emerald earrings, and I'll wear the emerald ring upon my finger. I
wish I had not that ugly mole upon my left cheek-bone, for then I could
have had one of those tiny patches of black taffeta which are said to be so
becoming to the complexion....'
She paused, and added with quaint wistfulness: 'Think you, Colle, that I
shall look handsome?'
'As lovely as a picture, my dear one,' said Nicolle with enthusiasm. 'As
exquisite as a lily; fit only to be the bride of a King.'
And even as she fell gradually into the delicious and dreamless sleep of
youth, her lips murmured softly: 'I wonder!'
CHAPTER VIII
I
Gilles had spent four days at the hostelry of 'Les Trois Rois,' and here he
would have liked to remain indefinitely and to continue the sentimental
romance so happily begun beneath the casement-windows of the
Archiepiscopal Palace. With the light-heartedness peculiar to most soldiers
of fortune, he had during those four days succeeded in putting his rôle out
of his mind. Though he had not yet caught sight of Madame's face at her
window, he quite thought that he would do so in time, and already he had
received more than one indication that his singing was not unwelcome. The
casement had been deliberately thrown open when he had scaled the
courtyard wall, and had resumed his song immediately beneath the window
which he had ascertained belonged to Madame's private apartment. He had
felt, even though he did not actually see, that some one was listening to him
from up there, for once he had perceived a shadow upon the casement
curtain, and once a hand, small and delicate, had rested upon the window-
sill. Gilles would have continued this wooing—aye! perhaps have brought it
to a happy conclusion, he thought—without being forced to assume another
personality than his own: a thing which became more and more abhorrent to
Messire Gilles' temper, now that the time for starting the masquerade in
earnest was drawing nigh.
'We could make ourselves very happy here, honest Jehan,' he had said to
the faithful companion of his many adventures. 'Waited on by that silent and
zealous youth, who of a truth looks like the very ghost of silence and
discretion. With judicious economy, the money which a gracious Queen
hath placed in our hands would last us a year. It seems a pity to fritter it all
away in a few weeks by playing a rôle which is detestable and unworthy.'
'You are quite right,' broke in Gilles gravely. 'Your argument is very
sound. The money, my friend, was given unto us in order to play a certain
rôle, and that rôle we must now play whether we like it or not, on pain of
being branded as vagabonds and thieves.'
'As you say,' remarked Gilles dryly, 'I have always found you of good
counsel, my friend. Very likely—that is what you would say, is it not?—
very likely, unless we played our parts as Madame la Reyne de Navarre did
direct, Monseigneur le Baron d'Inchy would discover the fraud and have us
both hanged for our pains. And if the hangman did happen to miss us,
Madame Marguerite would certainly see to it that a gibbet was ready for us
somewhere in France. So for this once, I think, mine honest Jehan, we must
take it that honesty will be the best policy.'
'O-o-o-only th-th-th-that——'
'Quite so!' assented Gilles, 'only that in this case we cannot contrive to
remain honest without being dishonest, which is a proposition that doth
gravely disturb my mind.'
'Th-th-th-the o-o-o-only——'
'Hold your tongue, friend Jehan,' broke in Gilles impatiently. 'Verily, you
talk a great deal too much!'
II
And now, at the very close of the fourth day, Messire Gilles made noisy
irruption into the tiny room which he occupied in the hostelry of 'Les Trois
Rois.' Maître Jehan—after the stormy episode outside the postern gate
wherein he had taken part—was in the room, waiting for his master.
Gilles was in the rarest of good humour. As soon as he had closed the
door behind him, he threw his plumed toque and the lute upon the table and,
sitting down on the narrow paillasse which was his bed, he fell to
contemplating a bunch of white lilies which he had in his hand. The stems
of these lilies were carefully wrapped in an embroidered handkerchief, but
they hung their bruised, if still fragrant, heads in a very doleful manner.
Gilles laughed softly to himself. Then he held the flowers out at arm's
length and called out gaily to Jehan:
'Congratulate me, honest Jehan!' he said. 'The first act of our
adventurous comedy is over. The curtain has rung down on a veritable
triumph! I have received a token! ... I have captured the first bastion in the
citadel of the fair one's heart! Give me a week, and I hold the entire fortress
for and on behalf of Monsieur Duc d'Anjou, our august master!'
'No, I have not seen her, my good man. All that fine fight outside the
walls, the complete discomfiture of our assailants, my perilous position
inside the courtyard, from whence a reinforcement of varlets might easily
have put me to flight, did not win for me even a glimpse of the lady. But her
window was wide open this time, and I could see her shadow flitting past
the casement. Then suddenly these lilies were flung at me. They were
crushed and bruised against the pavement as they fell; but they are a token,
friend Jehan, and you cannot deny it! Madame Jacqueline's heart is already
touched by the song of the unknown troubadour, and he hath but to present
himself before her to be graciously received.'
'That's just it!' broke in Gilles with a laugh. 'You have a way, my friend,
of hitting the right nail on the head. As you say, the four days' respite which
have been granted to us have now expired, and we have not yet seen the
future Duchesse d'Anjou face to face.'
'That is the trouble, I grant you. There is that infernal masquerade; and of
a truth, I am more convinced than ever that the reason why those noble
mynheers are so determined that Madame shall not show her face ere I have
irrevocably committed myself—I—that is, the Duc d'Anjou—that is——
Oh, my God!' he exclaimed. 'What a tangle!! Well, as I was saying.... By the
way, what was I saying just now?'
'Th-th-th-that——'
'Of course! You incorrigible chatterbox! I would have explained my
meaning before now if you had not talked nineteen to the dozen all the
time! I mean that I have completely changed my mind, and that I have
become convinced that Madame Jacqueline is as ugly as sin, else those wily
Dutchmen would not be so anxious to cover up her face.'
'Therefore, my good man, good fortune is in our debt. She did not favour
me with a sight of the lady ere I meet her in my official capacity. But
Madame Jacqueline hath given me a token: she is prepared to love me, and
I am still in the dark as to whether she squints or is pitted with pock-marks.
A terrible position for any man to be in!' he sighed dolefully, 'even though
he is out a-courting for a friend.'
'B-b-b-but——'
'You mean well, my friend,' quoth Gilles, who fell to contemplating the
bunch of faded lilies with a rueful expression of face. 'You mean well, but
you talk too much, and thus I am thrown on mine own resources for counsel
in an emergency. As for arguments! Why, you would argue the devil's horns
from off his head! Still,' he added, as he finally flung the lilies away from
him with a careless gesture of indifference, 'still, in spite of what you say, I
must stick to my bargain. Those mulish mynheers will not grant us any
further delay, and to-morrow I am pledged to appear at the governor's
banquet—yes, even I!—Monsieur Duc d'Anjou et d'Alençon, own brother
to the King of France, and you as my faithful servitor.'
'Ah! there you are wrong, my friend,' retorted Gilles. 'For my taste, the
dénouement is coming along at far too rapid a pace. To-morrow, already our
troubles will begin—peace will know us no more. I for one will never
rightly know who I am; nor will I know who it is who will know who I am
not. Oh, my Lord!' he added in mock despair, as he rested his elbows on his
knees and buried his head in his hands. 'My head will split ere I have done!
Tell me, Jehan, who I shall be to-morrow.'
'T-t-t-to-morrow,' stammered Jehan with painful earnestness, 'you—you
—you——you will b-b-b-b-be——'
'Own brother to His Majesty the King of France,' said Gilles, 'and as
great blackguard as ever disgraced a Royal house. To Monseigneur the
governor, and maybe also to some of his friends, I shall be a Royal prince.
To others, and notably to Madame Jacqueline de Broyart, I shall be the
Prince de Froidmont—an insignificant and penniless seigneur who only
dares approach the far-famed heiress under cover of a mask, having fallen
desperately in love with her. Ah, Jehan! Jehan!' he added with mock
solemnity, 'thou art of a truth a lucky devil! Thou canst keep thine own
name, thine own rank, even thine own ludicrous stutter: whereas I,—what
shall I be? A mime! A buffoon! And what's more, a fraudulent varlet,
pledged to deceive an innocent wench into the belief that her future lord is
both sentimental and amorous and can sing the love ditties writ by Messire
de Ronsard with passable tunefulness.... Ye gods, Jehan, hast ever heard
Monsieur Duc d'Anjou—the real one, I mean—sing?'
'N-n-n-no!' objected Jehan in pious horror, for he did not like to hear so
exalted a personage derided.
'Then hast ever heard the barn-door rooster calling to his favourite hen?'
'S-s-s-s-sometimes!'
'Well!' quoth Gilles lightly, 'so have I. And I prefer the barn-door rooster!
And now to bed, friend Jehan,' he added as he jumped to his feet. 'To-
morrow is the great day! Didst take my letter to the governor's palace?'
'I d-d-d-did.'
III
Jehan helped his master to undress. He pulled off the heavy boots and
laid aside the cloth jerkin, the kerseymere trunks and worsted hose. Then,
when Messire Gilles lay stretched out upon the hard paillasse, honest Jehan
bade him a quiet good night and went off carrying the guttering candle. For
one candle had to do duty for two customers, or even at times for three, at
the hostel of 'Les Trois Rois.' These were not days of luxurious
caravanserai: eight square feet of floor space, a tiny leaded window, a straw
paillasse, perhaps a table and a rickety chair, made up the sum total of a
furnished bedroom, if destined for a person of quality. Men like Maître
Jehan had to be content with the bare boards and a horse-blanket outside
their master's door, or behind a wooden partition set up inside the latter's
room.
Jehan went off, then, with the candle, and Gilles de Crohin remained in
almost total darkness, for the light of the moon failed to penetrate through
the narrow aperture which went by the name of window. For a long time
Messire Gilles lay motionless, staring into the gloom. Vague pictures
seemed to flit before his gaze: the unknown girl whom he was pledged to
woo appeared and disappeared before him, now walking across his line of
vision with stately dignity, now dancing a wild rigadoon like some unruly
country wench; but always, and with irritating persistence, wearing a mask
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