Hameline, who first counselled, and indeed urged in the night-quarter near Namur, and which appearmy flight, has already taken this wise and honourable step.

Your kinswoman!" repeated Quentin, awakened to recollections to which the young Countess was a stranger, and which the rapid succession of perilous and stirring events, had, as matters of nearer concern, in fact banished from his memory.

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Ay-my aunt-the Countess Hameline of Croye know you aught of her?" said the Countess Isabelle; "I trust she is now under the protection of the Burgundian banner.-You are silent! Know you aught of her?"

The last question, urged in a tone of the most anxious inquiry, obliged Quentin to give some account of what he knew of the Countess's fate. He mentioned, that he had been summoned to attend her in a flight from Liege, which he had no doubt the Lady Isabelle would be partaker in-he mentioned the discovery that had been made after they had gained the forest-and finally, he told his own return to the castle, and the circumstances in which he found it. But he said nothing of the views with which it was plain the Lady Hameline had left the Castle of Schonwaldt, and as little about the floating report of her having fallen into the hands of William de la Marck. Delicacy prevented his even hinting at the one, and regard for the feelings of his companion, at a moment when strength and exertion were most demanded of her, prevented him from alluding to the latter, which had, besides, only reached him as a mere rumour.

This tale, though abridged of those important particulars, made a strong impression on the Countess Isabelle, who, after riding some time in silence, said at last, with a tone of cold displeasure, "And so you abandoned my unfortunate relative in a wild forest, at the mercy of a wild Bohemian and a traitorous waiting-woman?-Poor kinswoman, thou wert wont to praise this youth's good faith!"

ed the result of an agreement betwixt the King and William de la Marck. Isabelle shuddered with horror, and then recovering herself, said, "I am ashamed, and I have sinned in permitting myself so far to doubt of the saints' protection, as for an instant to have deemed possible the accomplishment of a scheme so utterly cruel, base, and dishonourable, while there are pitying eyes in Heaven to look down on human miseries. It is not a thing to be thought of with fear or abhorrence, but to be rejected as such a piece of incredible treachery and villainy, as it were atheism to believe could ever be successful. But I now see plainly why that hypocritical Marthon often seemed to foster every seed of petty jealousy or discontent betwixt my poor kinswoman and myself, whilst she always mixed with flattery, addressed to the individual who was present, whatever could prejudice her against her absent kinswoman. Yet never did I dream she could have proceeded so far as to have caused my once affectionate kinswoman to have left me behind in the perils of Schonwaldt, while she made her own escape."

"Did the Lady Hameline not mention to you, then," said Quentin, "her intended flight?"

"No," replied the Countess, but she alluded to some communication which Marthon was to make to me. To say truth, my poor kinswoman's head was so turned by the mysterious jargon of the miserable Hayraddin, whom that day she had admitted to a long and secret conference, and she threw out so many strange hints, that-that-in short, I cared not to press on her, when in that humour, for any explanation. Yet it was cruel to leave me behind her."

"I will excuse the Lady Hameline from intending such unkindness," said Quentin; "for such was the agitation of the moment, and the darkness of the hour, that I believe the Lady Hameline as certainly conceived herself accompanied by her niece, as I at the same time, deceived by Marthon's dress and deHad I not done so, madam," said Quentin, not un-meanour, supposed I was in the company of both reasonably offended at the turn thus given to his gallantry," what had been the fate of one to whose service I was far more devoutly bound? Had I not left the Countess Hameline of Croye to the charge of those whom she had herself selected as counsellors and advisers, the Countess Isabelle had been ere now the bride of William de la Marck, the Wild Boar of Ardennes."

the Ladies of Croye:-and of her especially," he added, with a low but determined voice, "without whom the wealth of worlds would not have tempted me to leave Schonwaldt."

Isabelle stooped her head forward, and seemed scarce to hear the emphasis with which Quentin had spoken. But she turned her face to him again when he began to speak of the policy of Louis; and it was not difficult for them, by mutual communication, to ascertain that the Bohemian brothers, with their accomplice Marthon, had been the agents of that crafty monarch, although Zamet, the elder of them, with a perfidy peculiar to his race, had attempted to play a double game, and had been punished accordingly. In the same humour of mutual confidence, and forgetting the singularity of their own situation, as well as the perils of the road, the travellers pursued their journey for several hours, only stopping to refresh their horses at a retired dorff, or hamlet, to which they were conducted by Hans Glover, who, in all other respects, as well as in leaving them much to their own freedom in conversation, conducted himself like a person of reflection and discretion.

"You are right," said the Countess Isabelle, in her usual manner; "and I, who have the advantage of your unhesitating devotion, have done you foul and ungrateful wrong. But oh, my unhappy kinswoman! and the wretch Marthon, who enjoyed so much of her confidence, and deserved it so little-it was she that introduced to my kinswoman the wretched Zamet and Hayraddin Maugrabin, who, by their pretended knowledge in soothsaying and astrology, obtained a great ascendency over her mind; it was she who, strengthening their predictions, encouraged her in-I know not what to call them-delusions concerning matches and lovers, which my kinswoman's age rendered ungraceful and improbable. I doubt not that, from the beginning, we have been surrounded by these snares by Louis of France, in Meantime, the artificial distinction which divided order to determine us to take refuge at his Court, or the two lovers, (for such we may now term them,) rather to put ourselves into his power; after which seemed dissolved, or removed, by the circumstances rash act on our part, how unkingly, unknightly, in which they were placed; for if the Countess boastignobly, ungentleman-like, he hath conducted him-ed the higher rank, and was by birth entitled to a self towards us, you, Quentin Durward, can bear fortune incalculably larger than that of the youth, witness. But alas! my kinswoman-what think you will be her fate?"

whose revenue lay in his sword, it was to be considered that, for the present, she was as poor as he, Endeavouring to inspire hopes which he scarce and for her safety, honour, and life, exclusively infelt, Durward answered, that the avarice of these debted to his presence of mind, valour, and devotion. people was stronger than any other passion; that They spoke not indeed of love, for though the young Marthon, even when he left them, seemed to act lady, her heart full of gratitude and confidence, might rather as the Lady Hameline's protectress; and, in have pardoned such a declaration, yet Quentin, on fine, that it was difficult to conceive any object these whose tongue there was laid a check, both by natuwretches could accomplish by the ill usage or mur-ral timidity and by the sentiments of chivalry, would der of the Countess, whereas they might be gainers by treating her well, and putting her to ransom. To lead the Countess Isabelle's thoughts from this melancholy subject, Quentin frankly told her the treachery of the Maugrabin, which he had discovered

have held it an unworthy abuse of her situation had he said any thing which could have the appearance of taking undue advantage of the opportunities which it afforded them. They spoke not then of love, but the thoughts of it were on both sides unavoidable;

"My nephew," said Crèvecœur, after looking sharp- | them. Why, I myself, who have been at Peronne ly at Glover's honest breadth of countenance, "shall with the Duke for this week and better, cannot reguard this good fellow, who seems, indeed, to have solve this riddle any more than you; and yet, Sir little harm in him, as far into the territory as he him- Squire, upon the solution of that question depends the self advances, and then leave him at liberty." said point, whether you are a prisoner or free man; and, for the present, I must hold you as the formerOnly, if you have really and honestly been of service to my kins woman, and if you are candid in your answers to the questions I shall ask, affairs shall stand the better with you."

"Fail not to remember me to the kind Gertrude," said the Countess to her guide, and added, taking a string of pearls from under her veil, "Pray her to wear this in remembrance of her unhappy friend.",

Honest Glover took the string of pearls, and kissed, with a clownish gesture, but with sincere kindness, the fair hand which had found such a delicate mode of remunerating his own labours and peril. "Umph! signs and tokens!" said the Count; "any farther bequests to make, my fair cousin?--It is time we were on our way."

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Only," said the Countess, making an effort to speak, that you will be pleased to be favourable to this-this young gentleman."

"The Countess of Croye," said Quentin, "is best judge if I have rendered any service, and to her I refer you on that matter. My answers you will yourself judge of when you ask me your questions."

Umph!-haughty enough," muttered the Count of Crèvecœur, "and very like one that wears a lady's favour in his hat, and thinks he must carry things with a high tone, to honour the precious remnant of silk and tinsel.-Well, sir, I trust it well be no abate"Umph!" said Crèvecœur, casting the same pe- ment of your dignity, if you answer me how long you netrating glance on Quentin which he had bestowed have been about the person of the Lady Isabelle of on Glover, but apparently with a much less satisfac- Croye?" tory result, and mimicking, though not offensively, Count of Crèvecœur," said Quentin Durward, "if the embarrassment of the Countess-"Umph!-Ay, I answer questions which are asked in a tone ap-this is a blade of another temper.-And pray, my proaching towards insult, it is only lest injurious infecousin, what has this this very young gentleman rences should be drawn from my silence respecting done, to deserve such intercession at your hands?" one to whom we are both obliged to render justice. "He has saved my life and honour," said the I have acted as escort to the Lady Isabelle since she Countess, reddening with shame and resentment. left France to retire into Flanders." Quentin also blushed with indignation, but wisely concluded, that to give vent to it might only make

matters worse.

"Ho! ho!" said the Count; "and that is to say, since she fled from Plessis-les-Tours ?-You, an Archer of the Scottish Guard, accompanied her, of course, by the express orders of King Louis ?"

"Life and honour ?-Umph!" said again the Count Crèvecœur; "methinks it would have been as well, However little Quentin thought himself indebted my cousin, if you had not put yourself in the way of to the King of France, who, in contriving the surprilying under such obligations to this very young gen-sal of the Countess Isabelle by William de la Marck. tleman. But let it pass. The young gentleman may had probably calculated on the young Scotchman wait on us, if his quality permit, and I will see he has being slain in her defence, he did not yet conceive no injury only I will myself take in future the office himself at liberty to betray any trust which Louis of protecting your life and honour, and may perhaps had reposed, or had seemed to repose in him, and find for him some fitter duty than that of being a squire therefore replied to Count Crevecoeur's inference, of the body to damosels errant." "that it was sufficient for him to have the authority of his superior officer for what he had done, and he inquired no farther."

My Lord Count," said Durward, unable to keep silence any longer, "lest you should talk of a stranger in slighter terms than you might afterwards think becoming, I take leave to tell you, that I am Quentin Durward, an Archer of the Scottish Body-guard, in which, as you well know, none but gentlemen and men of honour are enrolled."

"I thank you for your information, and I kiss your hands, Seignior Archer," said Crevecoeur, in the same tone of raillery. "Have the goodness to ride with me to the front of the party."

"It is quite sufficient," said the Count. "We know the King does not permit his officers to send the Archers of his Guard to prance like paladins by the bridle-rein of wandering ladies, unless he hath some politic purpose to serve. It will be difficult for King Louis to continue to aver so boldly, that he knew not of the Ladies of Croye's having escaped from France, since they were escorted by one of his own Lifeguard. And whither, Sir Archer, was your retreat directed?"

"To Liege, my lord," answered the Scot; "where the ladies desired to be placed under the protection of the late Bishop."

"The late Bishop!" exclaimed the Count of Crevecoeur; "is Louis of Bourbon dead?-Not a word of his illness had reached the Duke Of what

As Quentin moved onward at the command of the Count, who had now the power, if not the right, to dictate his motions, he observed that the Lady Isabelle followed his motions with a look of anxious and timid interest, which amounted almost to tenderness, and the sight of which brought water into his eyes. But he remembered that he had a man's part to sustain before Crèvecœur, who, perhaps of all the chival-did he die?" ry in France or Burgundy, was the least likely to be moved to any thing but laughter by a tale of true-love sorrow. He determined, therefore, not to wait his addressing him, but to open the conversation in a tone which should assert his claim to fair treatment, and to more respect than the Count, offended perhaps at finding a person of such inferior note placed so near the confidence of his high-born and wealthy cousin, seemed disposed to entertain for him.

My Lord Count of Crevecœur," he said, in a temperate but firm tone of voice, may I request of you, before our interview goes farther, to tell me if I am at liberty, or am to account myself your prisoner?"

A shrewd question," replied the Count, "which, at present, I can only answer by another-Are France and Burgundy, think you, at peace or war with each other?"

"That," replied the Scot, "you, my lord, should certainly know better than I. I have been absent from the Court of France, and have heard no news for some time."

"He sleeps in a bloody grave, my lord—that is, if his murderers have conferred one on his remains.' "Murdered!" exclaimed Crevecoeur again-"Holy Mother of Heaven!-young man, it is impossible!” "I saw the deed done with my own eyes, and many an act of horror besides."

"Saw it! and made not in to help the good Prelate!" exclaimed the Count, "or to raise the castle against his murderers?-Know'st thou not, that even to look on such a deed, without resisting it, is profane sacrilege?"

"To be brief, my lord," said Durward, "ere this act was done, the castle was stormed by the bloodthirsty William de la Marck, with the help of the insurgent Liegeois."

"I am struck with thunder!" said Crèvecœur. "Liege in insurrection !-Schonwaldt taken!-the Bishop murdered!-Messenger of sorrow, never did one man unfold such a packet of woes!-Speakknew you of this assault+of this insurrection-of this murder?-Speak-thou art one of Louis's trusted "Look you there," said the Count; "you see how Archers, and it is he that has aimed this painful arrow. easy it is to ask questions, but how difficult to answer-Speak, or I will have thee torn with wild horses!"

And if I am so torn, my lord, there can be nothing | rendered untractable. Quentin easily saw that the rent out of me, that may not become a true Scottish grief which he manifested was augmented by the gentleman. I know no more of these villanies than bitter recollection of past intercourse and friendship you, was so far from being partaker in them, that I with the sufferer, and was silent accordingly; respectwould have withstood them to the uttermost, had my ing feelings which he was unwilling to aggravate, means, in a twentieth degree, equalled my inclination. and at the same time felt it impossible to soothe. But what could I do?-they were hundreds, and I but But the Count of Crevecœur returned again and one. My only care was to rescue the Countess Isa- again to the subject-questioned him on every parbelle, and in that I was happily successful. Yet, had ticular of the surprise of Schonwaldt, and the death I been near enough when the ruffian deed was so of the Bishop; and then suddenly, as if he had recruelly done on the old man, I had saved his gray collected something which had escaped his memory, hairs, or I had avenged them; and as it was, my ab- demanded what had become of the Lady Hameline, horrence was spoken loud enough to prevent other and why she was not with her kinswoman? "Not' horrors." he added contemptuously, "that I consider her absence as at all a loss to the Countess Isabelle; for, although she was her kinswoman, and upon the whole a well-meaning woman, yet the Court of Cocagne never produced such a fantastic fool; and I hold it for certain, that her niece, whom I have always observed to be a modest and orderly young woman, was led into the absurd frolic of flying from Burgundy to France, by that blundering, romantic, old, match-making and match-seeking idiot!"

"Speak not of the faithless, inconstant, plebeian rabble!" said Crevecœur. "When they took arms against a Prince, who had no fault, save that he was too kind and too good a master for such a set of ungrateful slaves-when they armed against him, and broke into his peaceful house, what could there be in their intention but murder?-when they band-intimacy to which they admitted Quentin himself, ed themselves with the wild Boar of Ardennes, the and other trying particulars, that, vexed and ashamed greatest homicide in the marches of Flanders, what and angry, the youth was scarce able to conceal his emelse could there be in their purpose but murder, which barrassment from the keen-sighted soldier and couris the very trade he lives by? And again, was it not tier, who seemed suddenly disposed to take leave of one of their own vile rabble who did the very deed, him, saying, at the same time, "Umph-I see it is as by thine own account?-I hope to see their canals I conjectured, on one side at least; I trust the other running blood by the light of their burning houses. party has kept her senses better.-Come, Sir Squire, Oh, the kind, noble, generous lord, whom they have spur on, and keep the van, while I fall back to disslaughtered!-Other vassals have rebelled under the course with the Lady Isabelle. I think I have learnpressure of imposts and penury; but the men of ed now so much from you, that I can talk to her of Liege, in the fulness of insolence and plenty."-He these sad passages without hurting her nicety, though again abandoned the reins of his war-horse, and I have fretted yours a little.-Yet stay, young gallant wrung bitterly the hands, which his mail-gloves-one word ere you go. You have had, I imagine.

a happy journey through Fairy-land-all full of he- convent during the residence of the Countess Isabelle roic adventure, and high hope and wild minstrel-like of Croye, ostensibly to secure her safety, but perdelusion, like the gardens of Morgaine la Fée. For-haps secretly to prevent her attempting to escape. get it all, young soldier," he added, tapping him on the shoulder; "remember yonder lady only as the honoured Countess of Croye-forget her as a wandering and adventurous damsel: And her friendsone of them I can answer for-will remember, on their part, only the services you have done her, and forget the unreasonable reward which you have had the boldness to propose to yourself." Enraged that he had been unable to conceal from the sharp-sighted Crevecoeur feelings which the Count seemed to consider as the object of ridicule, Quentin replied, indignantly, "My Lord Count, when I require advice of you, I will ask it; when I demand assistance of you, it will be time enough to grant or refuse it; when I set peculiar value on your opinion of me, it will not be too late to express it.' "Heyday!" said the Count; "I have come between Amadis and Oriana, and must expect a challenge to the lists!"