ceding days began to have an effect on him, which his habits of exercise of every kind, and his singular alertness and activity of character, as well as the painful nature of the reflections which occupied his thoughts, had hitherto prevented his experiencing, The ideas of his mind began to be so little corrected by the exertion of his senses, worn out and deadened as the latter now were by extremity of fatigue, that the visions which the former drew superseded or perverted the information conveyed by the blunted organs of seeing and hearing; and Durward was only sensible that he was awake, by the exertions which, sensible of the peri! of his situation, he occasionally made, to resist falling into a deep and dead sleep. Every now and then, a strong consciousness of the risk of falling from or with his horse roused him to exertion and animation; but ere long his eyes again were dimmed by confused shades of all sorts of mingled colours, the moonlight landscape swam before them, and he was so much overcome with fatigue, that the Count of Crevecoeur, observing his condition, was at length compelled to order two of his attendants, one to each rein of Durward's bridle, in order to prevent the risk of his falling from his horse. When at length they reached the town of Landrecy, the Count, in compassion to the youth, who had now been in a great measure without sleep for three nights, allowed himself and his retinue a halt of four hours, for rest and refreshment. smile had lost all that it had of sarcastic and bitter, and did not exceed the limits of good humour and good manners. Thus travelling on with much more harmony than on the preceding day, the little party came at last within two miles of the famous and strong town of Peronne, near which the Duke of Burgundy's army lay encamped, ready, as was supposed, to invade France; and, in opposition to which, Louis XI. had himself assembled a strong force near Saint Maxence, for the purpose of bringing to reason his over-powerful vassal. Peronne, situated upon a deep river, in a flat country, and surrounded by strong bulwarks and profound moats, was accounted in ancient, as in modern times, one of the strongest fortresses in France. The Count of Crevecoeur, his retinue, and his prisoner, were approaching the fortress about the third hour after noon; when, riding through the pleasant glades of a large forest, which then covered the approach to the town on the east side, they were met by two men of rank, as appeared from the number of their attendants, dressed in the habits worn in time of peace; and who, to judge from the falcons which they carried on their wrists, and the number of spaniels and greyhounds led by their followers, were engaged in the amusement of hawking. But on perceiving Crèvecœur, with whose appearance and liveries they were sufficiently intimate, they quitted the search which they were making for a heron along the banks of a long canal, and came galloping towards him. "News, news, Count of Crevecoeur!" they cried both together;-" will you give news, or take news? or will you barter fairly?" "I would barter fairly, Messires," said Crèvecœur, after saluting them courteously, "did I conceive you had any news of importance sufficient to make an equivalent for mine." The two sportsmen smiled on each other; and the elder of the two, a fine baronial figure, with a dark countenance, marked with that sort of sadness which some physiognomists ascribe to a melancholy temperament, and some, as the Italian statuary augured of the visage of Charles I., consider as predicting an unhappy death,t turning to his companion, said, Crevecœur has been in Brabant, the country of commerce, and he has learned all its artifices-he will be too hard for us if we drive a bargain." Deep and sound were Quentin's slumbers, until they were broken by the sound of the Count's trumpet, and the cry of his Fouriers and harbingers, "Debout! débout!-Ha! Messires, en route, en route!"Yet, unwelcomely early as the tones came, they awaked him a different being in strength and spirits from what he had fallen asleep. Confidence in himself and his fortunes returned with his reviving spirits, and with the rising sun. He thought of his love no longer as a desperate and fantastic dream, but as a high and invigorating principle, to be cherished in his bosom, although he might never propose to himself, under all the difficulties by which he was beset, to bring it to any prosperous issue.-"The pilot," he reflected, steers his bark by the polar star, although he never expects to become possessor of it; and the thoughts of Isabelle of Croye shall make me a worthy man-at-arms, though I may never see her more. When she hears that a Scottish soldier, named Quentin Durward, distinguished himself in a well- "Messires," said Crèvecœur, "the Duke ought in fought field, or left his body on the breach of a dis- justice to have the first of my wares, as the Seigneur puted fortress, she will remember the companion of takes his toll before open market begins. But tell her journey, as one who did all in his power to me, are your news of a sad or a pleasant complexion?" avert the snares and misfortunes which beset it, and The person whom he particularly addressed was a perhaps will honour his memory with a tear, his cof-lively-looking man, with an eye of great vivacity, fin with a garland." which was corrected by an expression of reflection and gravity about the mouth and upper lip-the whole physiognomy marking a man who saw and judged rapidly, but was sage and slow in forming resolutions or in expressing opinions. This was the famous Knight of Hainault, son of Collart, or Nicolas de l'Elite, known in history, and amongst historians, by the venerable name of Philip des Comines, at this time close to the person of Duke Charles the Bold, In this manly mood of bearing his misfortune, Quentin felt himself more able to receive and reply to the jests of the Count of Crevecoeur, who passed several on his alleged effeminacy and incapacity of undergoing fatigue. The young Scot accommodated himself so good-humouredly to the Count's raillery, and replied at once so happily and so respectfully, that the change of his tone and manner made obviously a more favourable impression on the Count than he had entertained from his prisoner's conduct was never taken by an enemy, but preserved the proud name of * Indeed, though lying on an exposed and warlike frontier, it during the preceding evening, when, rendered irri- Peronne la Pucelle, until the Duke of Wellington, a great destable by the feelings of his situation, he was alternate-troyer of that sort of reputation, took the place in the menorable advance upon Paris in 1815. ly moodily silent or fiercely argumentative. The veteran soldier began at length to take notice of his young companion, as a pretty fellow, of whom something might be made; and more than hinted to him, that, would he but resign his situation in the Archer-guard of France, he would undertake to have him enrolled in the household of the Duke of Burgundy in an honourable condition, and would himself take care of his advancement. And although Quentin, with suitable expressions of gratitude, declined this favour at present, until he should find out how far he had to complain of his original patron, King Louis, he, nevertheless, continued to remain on good terms with the Count of Crevecœur; and, while his enthusiastic mode of thinking, and his foreign and idiomatical manner of expressing himself, often excited a smile on the grave cheek of the Count, that + D'Hymbercourt, or Imbercourt, was put to death by the inhabitants of Ghent with the Chancellor of Burgundy, in the year 1477. Mary of Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Boid, appeared in mourning in the market-place, and with tears te sought the life of her servants from her insurgent subjects, but in vain. 1 Philip des Comines was described in the former editions of this work as a little man, fitted rather for counsel than action. This was a description made at a venture, to vary the military historian, upon the authority of Matthieu d'Arves, who knew portraits with which the age and work abound. Sleidan the Philip des Comines, and had served in his household, says he was a man of tall stature, and a noble presence. The learned Monsieur Petitor, editor of the edition of Memoirs relative to the History of France, a work of great value, intimates that Philip des Comines made a figure at the games of chivalry and pageants exhibited on the wedding of Charles of Burgundy with Margaret of England in 1468. See the Chronicle of Jean de Troyes, in Petitot's edition of the Memoirs relatifs a Histoire de France, vol. xiii. p. 375. Note. I have looked into Oliver de la Marck, who, in lib. ii., chapter iv., of his Memoirs, and one of his most esteemed counsellors. He an- | the terms of peace of his own making. But I never swered Crevecoeur's question concerning the complexion of the news of which he and his companion, the Baron d'Hymbercourt, were the depositaries. "They were," he said, "like the colours of the rainbow, various in hue, as they might be viewed from different points, and placed against the black cloud or the fair sky-Such a rainbow was never seen in France or Flanders since that of Noah's ark." 64 suspected that so old a fox as Louis could have been induced to come into the trap of his own accord. What said the Burgundian counsellors?" "As you may guess," answered D'Hymbercourt; "talked much of faith to be observed, and little of advantage to be obtained, by such a visit; while it was manifest they thought almost entirely of the last, and were only anxious to find some way to reconcile it with the necessary preservation of appearances.' "And what said the Duke?" continued the Count "of Crèvecœur. My tidings," replied Crevecœur, " are altogether like the comet; gloomy, wild, and terrible in themselves, yet to be accounted the forerunners of still greater and more dreadful evils which are to ensue.' "We must open our bales," said Comines to his companion, or our market will be forestalled by some new comers, for ours are public news.-In one word, Crevecoeur-listen, and wonder-King Louis is at Peronne !" "What!" said the Count, in astonishment; "has the Duke retreated without a battle? and do you remain here in your dress of peace, after the town is besieged by the French ?-for I cannot suppose it taken." "No, surely," said D'Hymbercourt, "the banners of Burgundy have not gone back a foot; and still King Louis is here." "Spoke brief and bold, as usual," replied Comines, "Which of you was it,' he asked, who witnessed the meeting of my cousin Louis and me after the battle of Montl'hery, when I was so thoughtless as to accompany him back within the intrenchments of Paris with half a score of attendants, and so put my person at the King's mercy?' I replied, that most of us had been present; and none could ever forget the alarm which it had been his pleasure to give us. Well,' said the Duke, 'you blamed me for my folly, and I confessed to you that I had acted like a giddy-pated boy; and I am aware, too, that my father of happy memory being then alive, my kins"Then Edward of England must have come over man, Louis, would have had less advantage by seizthe seas with his bowmen," said Crevecœur, and, ing on my person than I might now have by securing like his ancestors, gained a second field of Poictiers." his. But, nevertheless, if my royal kinsman comes "Not so," said Comines-" Not a French banner hither on the present occasion, in the same singlehas been borne down, not a sail spread from Eng-ness of heart under which I then acted, he shall be land-where Edward is too much amused among royally welcome. If it is meant by this appearance the wives of the citizens of London, to think of play- of confidence, to circumvent and to blind me, till he ing the Black Prince. Hear the extraordinary truth. execute some of his politic schemes, by Saint George You know, when you left us, that the conference be- of Burgundy, let him look to it! And so, having tween the commissioners on the parts of France and turned up his mustaches, and stamped on the ground, Burgundy was broken up, without apparent chance he ordered us all to get on our horses, and receive so of reconciliation?" extraordinary a guest." แ "And you met the King accordingly?" replied the Count of Crèvecoeur--" Miracles have not ceased!-How was he accompanied?" "As slightly as might be," answered D'Hymbercourt; "only a score or two of the Scottish Guard, and a few knights and gentlemen of his householdamong whom his astrologer, Galeotti, made the gayest figure.". "True; and we dreamt of nothing but war." "What has followed has been indeed so like a dream," said Comines, "that I almost expect to awake, and find it so. Only one day since, the Duke had in Council protested so furiously against farther delay, that it was resolved to send a defiance to the King, and march forward instantly into France. Toison d'Or, commissioned for the purpose, had put on his official dress, and had his foot in the stirrup to "That fellow," said Crevecoeur, "holds some demount his horse, when lo! the French herald Mont-pendence on the Cardinal Balue-I should not be joie rode into our camp. We thought of nothing else surprised that he has had his share in determining than that Louis had been beforehand with our defi- the King to this step of doubtful policy. Any nobiance; and began to consider how much the Duke lity of higher rank?" would resent the advice, which had prevented him from being the first to declare war. But a council being speedily assembled, what was our wonder when the herald informed us, that Louis, King of France, was scarce an hour's riding behind, intending to visit Charles, Duke of Burgundy, with a small retinue, in order that their differences might be settled at a personal interview!" "You surprise me, Messieurs," said Crèvecœur; "and yet you surprise me less than you might have expected; for, when I was last at Plessis-les-Tours, the all-trusted Cardinal Balue, offended with his master, and Burgundian at heart, did hint to me, that he could so work upon Louis's peculiar foibles, as to lead him to place himself in such a position with regard to Burgundy, that the Duke might have gives an ample account of these "fierce vanities," containing as many miscellaneous articles as the reticule of the old merchant of Peter Schleml, who bought shadows, and carried with him in his bag whatever any one could wish or demand in return. There are in that splendid description, knights, dames, pages, and archers, good store besides of castles, fiery dragons, and dromedaries; there are leopards riding upon lions; there are rocks, orchards, fountains, spears broken and whole, and the twelve labours of Hercules. In such a brilliant medley I had some trouble in finding Philip des Comines. He is the first named, however, of a gallant band of assailants, knights and noblemen, to the number of twenty, who, with the Prince of Orange as their leader, encountered, in a general tourney, with a party of the same number under the profligate Adolf of Cleves, who acted as a challenger, by the romantic title of Arbre d'or. The encounter, though with arms of courtesy, was very fierce. and separated by main force, not without difficulty. Philip des Comines has, therefore, a title to be accounted tam Marte quam Mercurio, though, when we consider the obscurity which has settled on the rest of this troupe doree, we are at no loss to estimate the most valuable of his qualifications. "There are Monsieur of Orleans and Dunois," replied Comines. "I will have a rouze with Dunois," said Crèvecœur, wag the world as it will. But we heard that both he and the Duke had fallen into disgrace, and were in prison?" "They were both under arrest in the Castle of Loches, that delightful place of retirement for the French nobility," said D'Hymbercourt; "but Louis has released them, in order to bring them with him perhaps because he cared not to leave Orleans behind. For his other attendants, faith, I think his gossip, the Hangman Marshal, with two or three of *After the battle of Montl'hery, in 1465, Charles, then Compte de Charalois, had an interview with Louis under the walls of Paris, each at the head of a small party. The two princes dis mounted, and walked together so deeply engaged in discussing the business of their meeting, that Charles forgot the peculiarity of his situation; and when Louis turned back towards the town of Paris, from which he came, the Count of Charalois kept him company so far as to pass the line of outworks with which Paris was surrounded, and enter a field work which communicated with the town by a trench. At this period he had only five or six persons in company with him. His escort caught an alarm for his safety, and his principal followers rode forward from where he had left them, remembering that his grandfather had been assassinated at Montereau in a similar parley, on 10th September, 1419. To their great joy the Count returned uninjured, accompanied with a guard belonging to Louis. The Burgundians taxed him with rashness in no mea sured terms. "Say no more of it," said Charles; "I acknowledge the extent of my folly, but I was not aware what I was doing till I entered the redoubt."-Memoires de PHILIPPE DES COMINES, chap. xiii. Louis was much praised for his good faith on this occasion; and it was natural that the Duke should call it to recollection when his enemy so unexpectedly put himself in his power by his visit to Peronne. his retinue, and Oliver, his barber, may be the most considerable and the whole bevy so poorly arrayed, that, by my honour, the King resembles most an old usurer going to collect desperate debts, attended by a body of catchpolls." "And where is he lodged?" said Crèvecœur. "Nay, that," replied Comines, "is the most marvellous of all. Our Duke offered to let the King's Archer-Guard have a gate of the town, and a bridge of boats over the Somme, and to have assigned to Louis himself the adjoining house, belonging to a wealthy burgess, Giles Orthen; but, in going thither, the King espied the banners of De Lau and Pencil de Rivère, whom he had banished from France; and scared, as it would seem, with the thought of lodging so near refugees and malecontents of his own making, he craved to be quartered in the Castle of Peronne, and there he hath his abode accordingly." "Why, God ha' mercy!" exclaimed Crevecœur, "this is not only venturing into the lion's den, but thrusting his head into his very jaws-Nothing less than the very bottom of the rat-trap would serve the crafty old politician!" "Nay," said Comines, "D'Hymbercourt hath not told you the speech of Le Glorieux*-which, in my mind, was the shrewdest opinion that was given." 'And what said his most illustrious wisdom?" asked the Count. "As the Duke," replied Comines, was hastily ordering some vessels and ornaments of plate, and the like, to be prepared as presents for the King and his retinue, by way of welcome on his arrival, Trouble not thy small brain about it, my friend Charles,' said Le Glorieux, I will give thy cousin Louis a nobler and a fitter gift than thou canst; and that is my cap and bells, and my bauble to boot; for, by the mass, he is a greater fool than I am, for putting himself in thy power.'-'But if I give him no reason to repent it, sirrah, how then?' said the Duke. Then, truly, Charles, thou shalt have cap and bauble thyself, as the greatest fool of the three of us.' I promíse you this knavish quip touched the Duke closely -I saw him change colour and bite his lip.-And now, our news are told, noble Crèvecœur, and what think you they resemble?" "A mine full-charged with gunpowder," answered Crèvecœur, to which, I fear, it is my fate to bring the kindled linstock. Your news and mine are like flax and fire, which cannot meet without bursting into flame, or like certain chemical substances which cannot be mingled without an explosion. Friends, -gentlemen,-ride close by my rein; and when I tell you what has chanced in the bishopric of Liege, I think you will be of opinion, that King Louis might as safely have undertaken a pilgrimage to the infernal regions, as this ill-timed visit to Peronne." The two nobles drew up close on either hand of the Count, and listened, with half-suppressed exclamations, and gestures of the deepest wonder and interest, to his account of the transactions at Liege and Schonwaldt. Quentin was then called forward, and examined and re-examined on the particulars of the Bishop's death, until at length he refused to answer any further interrogatories, not knowing wherefore they were asked, or what use might be made of his replies. They now reached the rich and level banks of the Somme, and the ancient walls of the little town of Peronne la Pucelle, and the deep green meadows adjoining, now whitened with the numerous tents of the Duke of Burgundy's army, amounting to about fifteen thousand men. in their intercourse with each other, they are required, by the respect which is due to their own rank and dignity, to regulate their feelings and expressions by a severe etiquette, which precludes all violent and avowed display of passion, and which, but that the whole world are aware that this assumed complaisance is a matter of ceremony, might justly pass for profound dissimulation. It is no less certain, however, that the overstepping of these bounds of ceremonial, for the purpose of giving more direct vent to their angry passions, has the effect of compromising their dignity with the world in general; as was particularly noted when those distinguished rivals, Francis the First, and the Emperor Charles, gave each other the lie direct, and were desirous of deciding their differences hand to hand, in single combat. Charles of Burgundy, the most hasty and impatient, nay, the most imprudent prince of his time, found himself, nevertheless, fettered within the magic circle which prescribed the most profound deference to Louis, as his Suzerain and liege Lord, who had deigned to confer upon him, a vassal of the crown, the distinguished honour of a personal visit. Dressed in his ducal mantle, and attended by his great officers, and principal knights and nobles, he went in gallant cavalcade, to receive Louis XI. His retinue absolutely blazed with gold and silver; for the wealth of the Court of England being exhausted by the wars of York and Lancaster, and the expenditure of France limited by the economy of the Sovereign, that of Burgundy was for the time the most magnificent in Europe. The cortège of Louis, on the contrary, was few in number, and comparatively mean in appearance, and the exterior of the King himself, in a threadbare cloak, with his wonted old highcrowned hat stuck full of images, rendered the contrast yet more striking; and as the Duke, richly attired with the coronet and mantle of state, threw himself from his noble charger, and, kneeling on one knee, offered to hold the stirrup while Louis dismounted from his little ambling palfrey, the effect was almost grotesque. The greeting between the two potentates was, of course, as full of affected kindness and compliment, as it was totally devoid of sincerity. But the temper of the Duke rendered it much more difficult for him to preserve the necessary appearances, in voice, speech, and demeanour; while in the King, every species of simulation and dissimulation seemed so much a part of his nature, that those best acquainted with him could not have distinguished what was feigned from what was real. Perhaps the most accurate illustration, were it not unworthy two such high potentates, would be, to suppose the King in the situation of a stranger, perfectly acquainted with the habits and dispositions of the canine race, who, for some purpose of his own, is desirous to make friends with a large and surly mastiff, that holds him in suspicion, and is disposed to worry him on the first symptoms either of diffidence or of umbrage. The mastiff growls internally, erects his bristles, shows his teeth, yet is ashamed to fly upon the intruder, who seems at the same time so kind and so confiding, and therefore the animal endures advances which are far from pacifying him, watching at the same time the slightest opportunity which may justify him in his own eyes for seizing his friend by the throat. The King was no doubt sensible, from the altered voice, constrained manner, and abrupt gestures of the Duke, that the game he had to play was delicate, and perhaps he more than once repented having ever taken it in hand. But repentance was too late, and all that remained for him was that inimitable dexterity of management, which the King understood equally at least with any man that ever lived. The demeanour which Louis used towards the Duke, was such as to resemble the kind overflowing of the heart in a moment of sincere reconciliation with an honoured and tried friend, from whom he had been estranged by temporary circumstances now passed away, and forgotten as soon as removed. The King blamed himself for not having sooner taken the decisive step, of convincing his kind and good kins man by such a mark of confidence as he was now bestowing, that the angry passages which had occurred betwixt them were nothing in his remembrance, when weighed against the kindness which received him when an exile from France, and under the displeasure of the King his father. He spoke of the Good Duke of Burgundy, as Philip the father of Duke Charles was currently called, and remembered a thousand instances of his paternal kindness. "I think, cousin," he said, "your father made little difference in his affection, betwixt you and me; for I remember, when by an accident I had bewildered myself in a hunting-party, I found the Good Duke upbraiding you with leaving me in the forest, as if you had been careless of the safety of an elder brother." The Duke of Burgundy's features were naturally harsh and severe; and when he attempted to smile, in polite acquiescence to the truth of what the King told him, the grimace which he made was truly diabolical. "Prince of dissemblers," he said, in his secret soul, "would that it stood with my honour to remind you how you have requited all the benefits of our House!" "And then," continued the King, "if the ties of consanguinity and gratitude are not sufficient to bind us together, my fair cousin, we have those of spiritual relationship; for, I am godfather to your fair daughter Mary, who is as dear to me as one of my own maidens; and when the Saints (their holy name be blessed!) sent me a little blossom which withered in the course of three months, it was your princely father who held it at the font, and celebrated the ceremony of baptism, with richer and prouder magnificence than Paris itself could have afforded. Never shall I forget the deep, the indelible impression, which the generosity of Duke Philip, and yours, my dearest cousin, made upon the half-broken heart of the poor exile!" 66 Your Majesty," said the Duke, compelling himself to make some reply, "acknowledged that slight obligation in terms which overpaid all the display which Burgundy could make, to show due sense of the honour you had done its Sovereign." "I remember the words you mean, fair cousin," said the King, smiling; "I think they were, that in guerdon of the benefit of that day, I, poor wanderer, had nothing to offer, save the persons of myself, of my wife, and of my child.-Well, and I think I have indifferently well redeemed my pledge." "I mean not to dispute what your Majesty is pleased to aver," said the Duke; "but" "But you ask," said the King, interrupting him, "how my actions have accorded with my wordsMarry thus: the body of my infant child Joachim rests in Burgundian earth-my own person I have this morning placed unreservedly in your powerand, for that of my wife, truly, cousin, I think, considering the period of time which has passed, you will scarce insist on my keeping my word in that particular. She was born on the day of the Blessed Annunciation," (he crossed himself, and muttered an Ora pro nobis,) some fifty years since; but she is no farther distant than Rheims, and if you insist on my promise being fulfilled to the letter, she shall presently wait your pleasure." Angry as the Duke of Burgundy was at the barefaced attempt of the King to assume towards him a tone of friends ip and intimacy, he could not help laughing at the whimsical reply of that singular monarch, and his laugh was as discordant as the abrupt tones of passion in which he often spoke. Having laughed longer and louder than was at that period, or would now be, thought fitting the time and occasion, he answered in the same time, bluntly declining the honour of the Queen's company, but stating his willingness to accept that of the King's eldest daughter, whose beauty was celebrated. 66 "I am happy, fair cousin," said the King, with one of those dubious smiles of which he frequently made use, that your gracious pleasure has not fixed on my younger daughter Joan. I should otherwise have had spear-breaking between you and my cousin of Orleans; and, had harm come of it, I must on either side have lost a kind friend and affectionate cousin." แ Nay, nay, my royal sovereign," said Duke Charles," the Duke of Orleans shall have no interruption from me in the path which he has chosen par amours. The cause in which I couch my lance against Orleans, must be fair and straight." Louis was far from taking amiss this brutal allusion to the personal deformity of the Princess Joan. On the contrary, he was rather pleased to find, that the Duke was content to be amused with broad jests, in which he was himself a proficient, and which (according to the modern phrase) spared much sentimental hypocrisy. Accordingly, he speedily placed their intercourse on such a footing, that Charles, though he felt it impossible to play the part of an affectionate and reconciled friend to a monarch whose ill offices he had so often encountered, and whose sincerity on the present occasion he so strongly doubted, yet had no difficulty in acting the hearty landlord towards a facetious guest; and so the want of reciprocity in kinder feelings between them, was supplied by the tone of good fellowship which exists between two boon companions, a tone natural to the Duke from the frankness, and, it might be added, the grossness of his character, and to Louis, because, though capable of assuming any mood of social intercourse, that which really suited him best was mingled with grossness of ideas, and caustic humour in expression. Both Princes were happily able to preserve, during the period of a banquet at the town-house of Peronne, the same kind of conversation, on which they met as on a neutral ground, and which, as Louis easily perceived, was more available than any other to keep the Duke of Burgundy in that state of composure which seemed necessary to his own safety. Yet he was alarmed to observe, that the Duke had around him several of those French nobles, and those of the highest rank, and in situations of great trust and power, whom his own severity or injustice had driven into exile; and it was to secure himself from the possible effects of their resentment and revenge, that (as already mentioned) he requested to be lodged in the Castle or Citadel of Peronne, rather than in the town itself. This was readily granted by Duke Charles, with one of those grim smiles, of which it was impossible to say, whether it meant good or harm to the party whom it concerned. But when the King, expressing himself with as much delicacy as he could, and in a manner he thought best qualified to lull suspicion asleep, asked, whether the Scottish Archers of his Guard might not maintain the custody of the castle of Peronne during his residence there, in lieu of the gate of the town which the Duke had offered to their care, Charles replied, with his wonted sternness of voice, and abruptness of manner, rendered more alarming by his habit, when he spoke, of either turning up his mustaches or handling his sword or dagger, the last of which he used frequently to draw a little way, and then return to the sheath,t "Saint Martin! No, my liege. You are in your vassal's camp and city-so men call me in respect to your Majesty-my castle and town are yours, and my men are yours; so it is indifferent whether my menat-arms or the Scottish Archers guard either the outer gate or defences of the Castle.-No, by Saint George! Peronne is a virgin fortress-she shall not lose her reputation by any neglect of mine. Maidens must be carefully watched, my royal cousin, if we would have them continue to live in good fame." Surely, fair cousin, and I altogether agree with you," said the King, "I being in fact more interested of Monseigneur de Lau, whom the King had long detained in prison, of Sire Poncet de Riviere, and the Seigneur de Urfe, who, by the way, as a romance writer of a peculiar turn, might have been happily enough introduced into the present work, of these nobles bearing the emblem of Burgundy, the cross, but the fate of the Euphuist was a warning to the author-all namely, of Saint Andrew, inspired Louis with so much suspicion, that he very impolitically demanded to be lodged in the old Castle of Peronne, and thus rendered himself an absolute captive.-See COMINES' Memoirs for the year 1468. This gesture, very indicative of a fierce character, is also by stage-tradition a distinction of Shakspeare's Richard III. *The arrival of three brothers, Princes of the House of Savoy, in the reputation of the good little town than you are] sunken rocks, and of dangerous shoals, than of safe -Peronne being, as you know, fair cousin, one of anchorage, those upon the same river Somme, which, pledged to your father of happy memory for redemption of money, are liable to be redeemed upon repayment. And, to speak truth, coming, like an honest debtor, disposed to clear off my obligations of every kind, I have brought here a few sumpter mules loaded with silver for the redemption-enough to maintain even your princely and royal establishment, fair cousin, for the space of three years." "I will not receive a penny of it," said the Duke, twirling his mustaches; "the day of redemption is past, my royal cousin; nor was there ever serious purpose that the right should be exercised, the cession of these towns being the sole recompense my father ever received from France, when, in a happy hour for your family, he consented to forget the murder of my grandfather, and to exchange the alliance of England for that of your father. Saint George! if he had not so acted, your royal self, far from having towns on the Somme, could scarce have kept those beyond the Loire. No-I will not render a stone of them, were I to receive for every stone so rendered its weight in gold. I thank God, and the wisdom and valour of my ancestors, that the revenues of Burgundy, though it be but a duchy, will maintain my state, even when a King is my guest, without obliging me to barter my heritage." "Well, fair cousin," answered the King, with the same mild and placid manner as before, and unperturbed by the loud tone and violent gestures of the Duke, "I see that you are so good a friend to France, that you are unwilling to part with aught that belongs to her. But we shall need some moderator in these affairs when we come to treat of them in councilWhat say you to Saint Paul ?" "Neither Saint Paul, nor Saint Peter, nor e'er a Saint in the Calendar," said the Duke of Burgundy, shall preach me out of the possession of Peronne.' Nay, but you mistake me," said King Louis, smiling; "I mean Louis de Luxembourg, our trusty constable, the Count of Saint Paul.-Ah! Saint Mary of Embrun! we lack but his head at our conference! the best head in France, and the most useful to the restoration of perfect harmony betwixt us." "By Saint George of Burgundy!" said the Duke, "I marvel to hear your Majesty talk thus of a man, false and perjured both to France and Burgundyone, who hath ever endeavoured to fan into a flame our frequent differences, and that with the purpose of giving himself the airs of a mediator. I swear by the Order I wear, that his marshes shall not be long a resource for him!" Be not so warm, cousin," replied the King, smiling, and speaking under his breath; "when I wished for the constable's head, as a means of ending the settlement of our trifling differences, I had no desire for his body, which might remain at Saint Quentin's with much convenience.' "Ho! ho! I take your meaning, my royal cousin," said Charles, with the same dissonant laugh which some other of the King's coarse pleasantries had extorted, and added, stamping with his heel on the ground, "I allow, in that sense, the head of the Constable might be useful at Peronne." These, and other discourses, by which the King mixed hints at serious affairs amid matters of mirth and amusement, did not follow each other consecutively; but were adroitly introduced during the time of the banquet at the Hotel de Ville, during a subsequent interview in the Duke's own apartments, and in short, as occasion seemed to render the introduction of such delicate subjects easy and natural. Indeed, however rashly Louis had placed himself in a risk, which the Duke's fiery temper, and the mutual subjects of exasperated enmity which subsisted betwixt them, rendered of doubtful and perilous issue, never pilot on an unknown coast conducted himself with more firmness and prudence. He seemed to sound, with the utmost address and precision, the depths and shallows of his rival's mind and temper, and manifested neither doubt nor fear, when the result of his experiments discovered much more of At length a day closed, which must have been a wearisome one to Louis, from the constant exertion, vigilance, precaution, and attention, which his situation required, as it was a day of constraint to the Duke, from the necessity of suppressing the violent feelings to which he was in the general habit of giving uncontrolled vent. No sooner had the latter retired into his own apartment, after he had taken a formal leave of the King for the night, than he gave way to the explosion of passion which he had so long suppressed; and many an oath and abusive epithet, as his jester, Le Glorieux, said, "fell that night upon heads which they were never coined for,"-his domestics reaping the benefit of that hoard of injurious language, which he could not in decency bestow on his royal guest, even in his absence, and which was yet become too great to be altogether suppressed. The jests of the clown had some effect in tranquillizing the Duke's angry mood; he laughed loudly, threw the jester a piece of gold, caused himself to be disrobed in tranquillity, swallowed a deep cup of wine and spices, went to bed, and slept soundly. The couchée of King Louis is more worthy of notice than that of Charles; for the violent expression of exasperated and headlong passion, as indeed it belongs more to the brutal than the intelligent part of our nature, has little to interest us, in comparison to the deep workings of a vigorous and powerful mind. Louis was escorted to the lodgings he had chosen in the Castle, or Citadel of Peronne, by the chamberlains and harbingers of the Duke of Burgundy, and received at the entrance by a strong guard of archers and men-at-arms. As he descended from his horse to cross the drawbridge, over a moat of unusual width and depth, he looked on the sentinels, and observed to Comines, who accompanied him, with other Burgundian nobles, "They wear Saint Andrew's crosses-but not those of my Scottish Archers." "You will find them as ready to die in your defence Sire," said the Burgundian, whose sagacious ear had detected in the King's tone of speech a feeling, which doubtless Louis would have concealed if he could. They wear the Saint Andrew's Cross as the appendage of the collar of the Golden Fleece, my master the Duke of Burgundy's Order." "Do I not know it?" said Louis, showing the collar which he himself wore in compliment to his host; "It is one of the dear bonds of fraternity which exist between my kind brother and myself. We are brothers in chivalry, as in spiritual relationship; cousins by birth, and friends by every tie of kind feeling and good neighbourhood.-No farther than the base-court, my noble lords and gentlemen! I can permit your attendance no farther you have done me enough of grace." "We were charged by the Duke," said D'Hymbercourt, "to bring your Majesty to your lodging-We trust your Majesty will permit us to obey our master's command." "In this small matter," said the King, "I trust you will allow my command to outweigh his, even with you his liege subjects.-I am something indisposed, my lords-something fatigued. Great pleasure hath its toils, as well as great pain. I trust to enjoy your society better to-morrow.-And yours too, Seignior Philip of Comines-I am told you are the annalist of the time-we that desire to have a name in history, must speak you fair, for men say your pen hath a sharp point, when you will.-Good-night, my lords and gentles, to all and each of you." The Lords of Burgundy retired, much pleased with the grace of Louis's manner, and the artful distribution of his attentions; and the King was left with only one or two of his own personal followers, under the archway of the base-court of the Castle of Peronne, looking on the huge tower which occupied one of the angles, being in fact the Donjon, or principal Keep, of the place. This tall, dark, massive building, was seen clearly by the same moon which was lighting Quentin Durward betwixt Charleroi and Peronne, which, as the reader is aware, shone with peculiar |