Quentin Durward

  CHAPTER VI: THE BOHEMIANS

  Sae rantingly, sae wantingly, Sae dantingly gaed he, He play'd a spring and danced a round Beneath the gallows tree!

  OLD SONG

  [The Bohemians: In... Guy Mannering the reader will find some remarkson the gipsies as they are found in Scotland. Their first appearance inEurope took place in the beginning of the fifteenth century. The accountgiven by these singular people was, that it was appointed to them, asa penance, to travel for a certain number of years. Their appearance,however, and manners, strongly contradicted the allegation that theytravelled from any religious motive. Their dress and accoutrements wereat once showy and squalid; those who acted as captains and leaders ofany horde,... were arrayed in dresses of the most showy colours, suchas scarlet or light green; were well mounted; assumed the title of dukesand counts, and affected considerable consequence. The rest of the tribewere most miserable in their diet and apparel, fed without hesitationon animals which had died of disease, and were clad in filthy and scantyrags.... Their complexion was positively Eastern, approaching to that ofthe Hindoos. Their manners were as depraved as their appearance was poorand beggarly. The men were in general thieves, and the women of the mostabandoned character. The few arts which they studied with success wereof a slight and idle, though ingenious description. They practisedworking in iron, but never upon any great scale. Many were goodsportsmen, good musicians.... But their ingenuity never ascended intoindustry.... Their pretensions to read fortunes, by palmistry and byastrology, acquired them sometimes respect, but oftener drew them undersuspicion as sorcerers; the universal accusation that they augmentedtheir horde by stealing children, subjected them to doubt andexecration.... The pretension set up by these wanderers, of beingpilgrims in the act of penance, although it... in many instancesobtained them protection from the governments of the countries throughwhich they travelled, was afterwards totally disbelieved, and theywere considered as incorrigible rogues and vagrants.... A curious andaccurate account of their arrival in France is quoted by Pasquier "OnAugust 27th, 1427, came to Paris twelve penitents,... viz. a duke,an earl, and ten men, all on horseback, and calling themselves goodChristians. They were of Lower Egypt, and gave out that, not longbefore, the Christians had subdued their country, and obliged themto embrace Christianity on pain of being put to death. Those who werebaptized were great lords in their own country, and had a king and queenthere. Soon after their conversion, the Saracens overran the country,and obliged them to renounce Christianity. When the Emperor of Germany,the King of Poland, and other Christian princes heard of this, they fellupon them, and obliged the whole of them, both great and small, to quitthe country, and go to the Pope at Rome, who enjoined them seven years'penance to wander over the world, without lying in a bed. They had beenwandering five years when they came to Paris first.... Nearly all ofthem had their ears bored, and wore two silver rings in each.... The menwere black, their hair curled; the women remarkably black, their onlyclothes a large old duffle garment, tied over the shoulders with acloth or cord, and under it a miserable rocket;... notwithstandingtheir poverty, there were among them women who, by looking into people'shands, told their fortunes, and what was worse, they picked people'spockets of their money, and got it into their own, by telling thesethings through airy magic, et cetera." Pasquier remarks upon thissingular journal that however the story of a penance savours of a trick,these people wandered up and down France, under the eye, and with theknowledge, of the magistrates, for more than a hundred years; and it wasnot till 1561, that a sentence of banishment was passed against themin that kingdom. The arrival of the Egyptians (as these singular peoplewere called) in various parts of Europe, corresponds with the period inwhich Timur or Tamerlane invaded Hindostan, affording its natives thechoice between the Koran and death. There can be little doubt thatthese wanderers consisted originally of the Hindostanee tribes, who,displaced, and flying from the sabres of the Mohammedans, undertook thisspecies of wandering life, without well knowing whither they were going.When they are in closest contact with the ordinary peasants aroundthem, they still keep their language a mystery. There is little doubt,however, that it is a dialect of the Hindostanee, from the specimensproduced by Grellman, Hoyland, and others, who have written on thesubject. S.]

  The manner in which Quentin Durward had been educated was not of a kindto soften the heart, or perhaps to improve the moral feeling. He, withthe rest of his family, had been trained to the chase as an amusement,and taught to consider war as their only serious occupation, and that itwas the great duty of their lives stubbornly to endure, and fiercely toretaliate, the attacks of their feudal enemies, by whom their race hadbeen at last almost annihilated. And yet there mixed with these feuds aspirit of rude chivalry, and even courtesy, which softened their rigour;so that revenge, their only justice, was still prosecuted with someregard to humanity and generosity. The lessons of the worthy old monk,better attended to, perhaps, during a long illness and adversity, thanthey might have been in health and success, had given young Durwardstill farther insight into the duties of humanity towards others;and considering the ignorance of the period, the general prejudicesentertained in favour of a military life, and the manner in which hehimself had been bred, the youth was disposed to feel more accuratelythe moral duties incumbent on his station than was usual at the time.

  He reflected on his interview with his uncle with a sense ofembarrassment and disappointment. His hopes had been high; for althoughintercourse by letters was out of the question, yet a pilgrim, or anadventurous trafficker, or a crippled soldier sometimes brought Lesly'sname to Glen Houlakin, and all united in praising his undaunted courage,and his success in many petty enterprises which his master had intrustedto him. Quentin's imagination had filled up the sketch in his own way,and assimilated his successful and adventurous uncle (whose exploitsprobably lost nothing in the telling) to some of the champions andknights errant of whom minstrels sung and who won crowns and kings'daughters by dint of sword and lance. He was now compelled to rank hiskinsman greatly lower in the scale of chivalry; but, blinded by the highrespect paid to parents and those who approach that character--movedby every early prejudice in his favour--inexperienced besides, andpassionately attached to his mother's memory, he saw not, in the onlybrother of that dear relation, the character he truly held, which wasthat of an ordinary mercenary soldier, neither much worse nor greatlybetter than many of the same profession whose presence added to thedistracted state of France.

  Without being wantonly cruel, Le Balafre was, from habit, indifferentto human life and human suffering; he was profoundly ignorant, greedy ofbooty, unscrupulous how he acquired it, and profuse in expending it onthe gratification of his passions. The habit of attending exclusivelyto his own wants and interests had converted him into one of the mostselfish animals in the world; so that he was seldom able, as the readermay have remarked, to proceed far in any subject without consideringhow it applied to himself, or, as it is called, making the case his own,though not upon feelings connected with the golden rule, but such aswere very different. To this must be added that the narrow round ofhis duties and his pleasures had gradually circumscribed his thoughts,hopes, and wishes, and quenched in a great measure the wild spirit ofhonour, and desire of distinction in arms, by which his youth had beenonce animated.

  Balafre was, in short, a keen soldier, hardened, selfish, and narrowminded; active and bold in the discharge of his duty, but acknowledgingfew objects beyond it, except the formal observance of a carelessdevotion, relieved by an occasional debauch with brother Boniface, hiscomrade and confessor. Had his genius been of a more extended character,he would probably have been promoted to some important command, for theKing, who knew every soldier of his bodyguard personally, reposed muchconfidence in Balafre's courage and fidelity; and besides, the Scot hadeither wisdom or cunning enough perfectly to understand, and ablyto humour, the peculiarities of that sovereign. Still, however, hiscapacity was too much limited to admit of his rising to hi
gher rank,and though smiled on and favoured by Louis on many occasions, Balafrecontinued a mere Life Guardsman, or Scottish Archer.

  Without seeing the full scope of his uncle's character, Quentin feltshocked at his indifference to the disastrous extirpation of his brotherin law's whole family, and could not help being surprised, moreover,that so near a relative had not offered him the assistance of his purse,which, but for the generosity of Maitre Pierre, he would have beenunder the necessity of directly craving from him. He wronged his uncle,however, in supposing that this want of attention to his probablenecessities was owing to avarice. Not precisely needing money himself atthat moment, it had not occurred to Balafre that his nephew might be inexigencies; otherwise, he held a near kinsman so much a part of himself,that he would have provided for the weal of the living nephew, as heendeavoured to do for that of his deceased sister and her husband. Butwhatever was the motive, the neglect was very unsatisfactory to youngDurward, and he wished more than once he had taken service with the Dukeof Burgundy before he quarrelled with his forester. "Whatever had thenbecome of me," he thought to himself, "I should always have been able tokeep up my spirits with the reflection that I had, in case of the worst,a stout back friend in this uncle of mine. But now I have seen him, and,woe worth him, there has been more help in a mere mechanical stranger,than I have found in my own mother's brother, my countryman and acavalier! One would think the slash, that has carved all comeliness outof his face, had let at the same time every drop of gentle blood out ofhis body."

  Durward now regretted he had not had an opportunity to mention MaitrePierre to Le Balafre, in the hope of obtaining some farther accountof that personage; but his uncle's questions had followed fast on eachother, and the summons of the great bell of Saint Martin of Tours hadbroken off their conference rather suddenly. That old man, he thoughtto himself, was crabbed and dogged in appearance, sharp and scornful inlanguage, but generous and liberal in his actions; and such a strangeris worth a cold kinsman.

  "What says our old Scottish proverb?--'Better kind fremit, than fremitkindred.' ['Better kind strangers than estranged kindred.' The motto isengraved on a dirk, belonging to a person who had but too much reason tochoose such a device. It was left by him to my father. The weapon is nowin my possession. S.] I will find out that man, which, methinks, shouldbe no difficult task, since he is so wealthy as mine host bespeaks him.He will give me good advice for my governance, at least; and if he goesto strange countries, as many such do, I know not but his may be asadventurous a service as that of those Guards of Louis."

  As Quentin framed this thought, a whisper from those recesses of theheart in which lies much that the owner does not know of, or willnot acknowledge willingly, suggested that, perchance, the lady of theturret, she of the veil and lute, might share that adventurous journey.As the Scottish youth made these reflections, he met two grave lookingmen, apparently citizens of Tours, whom, doffing his cap with thereverence due from youth to age, he respectfully asked to direct him tothe house of Maitre Pierre.

  "The house of whom, my fair son?" said one of the passengers.

  "Of Maitre Pierre, the great silk merchant, who planted all the mulberrytrees in the park yonder," said Durward.

  "Young man," said one of them who was nearest to him, "you have taken upan idle trade a little too early."

  "And have chosen wrong subjects to practise your fooleries upon,"said the farther one, still more gruffly. "The Syndic of Tours isnot accustomed to be thus talked to by strolling jesters from foreignparts."

  Quentin was so much surprised at the causeless offence which these twodecent looking persons had taken at a very simple and civil question,that he forgot to be angry at the rudeness of their reply, and stoodstaring after them as they walked on with amended pace, often lookingback at him, as if they were desirous to get as soon as possible out ofhis reach.

  He next met a party of vine dressers, and addressed to them the samequestion; and in reply, they demanded to know whether he wanted MaitrePierre, the schoolmaster? or Maitre Pierre, the carpenter? or MaitrePierre, the beadle? or half a dozen of Maitre Pierres besides. When noneof these corresponded with the description of the person after whom heinquired, the peasants accused him of jesting with them impertinently,and threatened to fall upon him and beat him, in guerdon of hisraillery. The oldest amongst them, who had some influence over the rest,prevailed on them to desist from violence.

  "You see by his speech and his fool's cap," said he, "that he is oneof the foreign mountebanks who are come into the country, and whom somecall magicians and soothsayers, and some jugglers, and the like, andthere is no knowing what tricks they have amongst them. I have heard ofsuch a one's paying a liard [a small copper coin worth a quarter of acent, current in France in the fifteenth century.] to eat his bellyfullof grapes in a poor man's vineyard; and he ate as many as would haveloaded a wain, and never undid a button of his jerkin--and so let himpass quietly, and keep his way, as we will keep ours.--And you, friend,if you would shun worse, walk quietly on, in the name of God, our Ladyof Marmoutier, and Saint Martin of Tours, and trouble us no more aboutyour Maitre Pierre, which may be another name for the devil, for aughtwe know."

  The Scot finding himself much the weaker party, judged it his Wisestcourse to walk on without reply; but the peasants, who at first shrunkfrom him in horror, at his supposed talents for sorcery and grapedevouring, took heart of grace as he got to a distance, and havinguttered a few cries and curses, finally gave them emphasis with a showerof stones, although at such a distance as to do little or no harm to theobject of their displeasure. Quentin, as he pursued his walk, began tothink, in his turn, either that he himself lay under a spell, or thatthe people of Touraine were the most stupid, brutal, and inhospitable ofthe French peasants. The next incident which came under his observationdid not tend to diminish this opinion.

  On a slight eminence, rising above the rapid and beautiful Cher, inthe direct line of his path, two or three large chestnut trees wereso happily placed as to form a distinguished and remarkable group; andbeside them stood three or four peasants, motionless, with their eyesturned upwards, and fixed, apparently, upon some object amongst thebranches of the tree next to them. The meditations of youth are seldomso profound as not to yield to the slightest, impulse of curiosity, aseasily as the lightest pebble, dropped casually from the hand, breaksthe surface of a limpid pool. Quentin hastened his pace, and ran lightlyup the rising ground, in time enough to witness the ghastly spectaclewhich attracted the notice of these gazers--which was nothing less thanthe body of a man, convulsed by the last agony, suspended on one of thebranches.

  "Why do you not cut him down?" said the young Scot, whose hand was asready to assist affliction, as to maintain his own honour when he deemedit assailed.

  One of the peasants, turning on him an eye from which fear had banishedall expression but its own, and a face as pale as clay, pointed to amark cut upon the bark of the tree, having the same rude resemblanceto a fleur de lys which certain talismanic scratches, well known toour revenue officers, bear to a broad arrow. Neither understanding norheeding the import of this symbol, young Durward sprung lightly asthe ounce up into the tree, drew from his pouch that most necessaryimplement of a Highlander or woodsman, the trusty skene dhu [blackknife; a species of knife without clasp or hinge formerly much usedby the Highlanders, who seldom travelled without such an ugly weapon,though it is now rarely used. S.], and, calling to those below toreceive the body on their hands, cut the rope asunder in less than aminute after he had perceived the exigency.

  But his humanity was ill seconded by the bystanders. So far fromrendering Durward any assistance, they seemed terrified at the audacityof his action, and took to flight with one consent, as if they fearedtheir merely looking on might have been construed into accession to hisdaring deed. The body, unsupported from beneath, fell heavily to earthin such a manner that Quentin, who presently afterwards jumped down, hadthe mortification to see that the last sparks of life were extinguished.He gave not
up his charitable purpose, however, without farther efforts.He freed the wretched man's neck from the fatal noose, undid thedoublet, threw water on the face, and practised the other ordinaryremedies resorted to for recalling suspended animation.

  While he was thus humanely engaged, a wild clamour of tongues, speakinga language which he knew not, arose around him; and he had scarcely timeto observe that he was surrounded by several men and women of a singularand foreign appearance, when he found himself roughly seized by botharms, while a naked knife, at the same moment, was offered to histhroat.

  "Pale slave of Eblis!" [in Mohammedan religion the name of the chief ofthe fallen angels] said a man, in imperfect French, "are you robbing himyou have murdered?--But we have you--and you shall abuy it."

  There were knives drawn on every side of him, as these words werespoken, and the grim and distorted countenances which glared on him werelike those of wolves rushing on their prey.

  Still the young Scot's courage and presence of mind bore him out. "Whatmean ye, my masters?" he said; "if that be your friend's body, I havejust now cut him down, in pure charity, and you will do better to tryto recover his life, than to misuse an innocent stranger to whom he oweshis chance of escape."

  The women had by this time taken possession of the dead body, andcontinued the attempts to recover animation which Durward had beenmaking use of, though with the like bad success; so that, desisting fromtheir fruitless efforts, they seemed to abandon themselves to all theOriental expressions of grief; the women making a piteous wailing,and tearing their long black hair, while the men seemed to rend theirgarments, and to sprinkle dust upon their heads. They gradually becameso much engaged in their mourning rites, that they bestowed no longerany attention on Durward, of whose innocence they were probablysatisfied from circumstances. It would certainly have been his wisestplan to have left these wild people to their own courses, but he hadbeen bred in almost reckless contempt of danger, and felt all theeagerness of youthful curiosity.

  The singular assemblage, both male and female, wore turbans and caps,more similar in general appearance to his own bonnet than to the hatscommonly worn in France. Several of the men had curled black beards, andthe complexion of all was nearly as dark as that of Africans. One or twowho seemed their chiefs, had some tawdry ornaments of silver about theirnecks and in their ears, and wore showy scarfs of yellow, or scarlet,or light green; but their legs and arms were bare, and the whole troopseemed wretched and squalid in appearance. There were no weapons amongthem that Durward saw, except the long knives with which they had latelymenaced him, and one short, crooked sabre, or Moorish sword, which wasworn by an active looking young man, who often laid his hand uponthe hill, while he surpassed the rest of the party in his extravagantexpressions of grief, and seemed to mingle with them threats ofvengeance.

  The disordered and yelling group were so different in appearance fromany beings whom Quentin had yet seen, that he was on the point ofconcluding them to be a party of Saracens, of those "heathen hounds,"who were the opponents of gentle knights and Christian monarchs inall the romances which he had heard or read, and was about to withdrawhimself from a neighbourhood so perilous, when a galloping of horse washeard, and the supposed Saracens, who had raised by this time the bodyof their comrade upon their shoulders, were at once charged by a partyof French soldiers.

  This sudden apparition changed the measured wailing of the mourners intoirregular shrieks of terror. The body was thrown to the ground inan instant, and those who were around it showed the utmost and mostdexterous activity in escaping under the bellies as it were of thehorses, from the point of the lances which were levelled at them,with exclamations of "Down with the accursed heathen thieves--take andkill--bind them like beasts--spear them like wolves!"

  These cries were accompanied with corresponding acts of violence; butsuch was the alertness of the fugitives, the ground being renderedunfavourable to the horsemen by thickets and bushes, that only two werestruck down and made prisoners, one of whom was the young fellow withthe sword, who had previously offered some resistance. Quentin, whomfortune seemed at this period to have chosen for the butt of her shafts,was at the same time seized by the soldiers, and his arms, in spite ofhis remonstrances, bound down with a cord; those who apprehended himshowing a readiness and dispatch in the operation, which proved them tobe no novices in matters of police.

  Looking anxiously to the leader of the horsemen, from whom he hopedto obtain liberty, Quentin knew not exactly whether to be pleased oralarmed upon recognising in him the down looking and silent companion ofMaitre Pierre. True, whatever crime these strangers might be accusedof, this officer might know, from the history of the morning, thathe, Durward, had no connection with them whatever; but it was a moredifficult question, whether this sullen man would be either a favourablejudge or a willing witness in his behalf, and he felt doubtful whetherhe would mend his condition by making any direct application to him.

  But there was little leisure for hesitation. "Trois Eschelles and PetitAndre," said the down looking officer to two of his band, "These sametrees stand here quite convenient. I will teach these misbelieving,thieving sorcerers to interfere with the King's justice, when it hasvisited any of their accursed race. Dismount, my children, and do youroffice briskly."

  Trois Eschelles and Petit Andre were in an instant on foot, and Quentinobserved that they had each, at the crupper and pommel of his saddle,a coil or two of ropes, which they hastily undid, and showed that, infact, each coil formed a halter, with the fatal noose adjusted, readyfor execution. The blood ran cold in Quentin's veins, when he saw threecords selected, and perceived that it was proposed to put one around hisown neck. He called on the officer loudly, reminded him of their meetingthat morning, claimed the right of a free born Scotsman in a friendlyand allied country, and denied any knowledge of the persons along withwhom he was seized, or of their misdeed.

  The officer whom Durward thus addressed, scarce deigned to look athim while he was speaking, and took no notice whatever of the claim hepreferred to prior acquaintance. He barely turned to one or two of thepeasants who were now come forward, either to volunteer their evidenceagainst the prisoners, or out of curiosity, and said gruffly, "Wasyonder young fellow with the vagabonds?"

  "That he was, sir, and it please your noble Provostship," answered oneof the clowns; "he was the very first blasphemously to cut down therascal whom his Majesty's justice most deservedly hung up, as we toldyour worship."

  "I'll swear by God, and Saint Martin of Tours, to have seen him withtheir gang," said another, "when they pillaged our metairie [a smallfarm]."

  "Nay, but," said a boy, "yonder heathen was black, and this youth isfair; yonder one had short curled hair, and this hath long fair locks."

  "Ay, child," said the peasant, "and perhaps you will say yonder one hada green coat and this a gray jerkin. But his worship, the Provost, knowsthat they can change their complexions as easily as their jerkins, sothat I am still minded he was the same."

  "It is enough that you have seen him intermeddle with the course of theKing's justice, by attempting to recover an executed traitor," said theofficer.--"Trois Eschelles and Petit Andre, dispatch."

  "Stay, signior officer!" exclaimed the youth in mortal agony; "hear mespeak--let me not die guiltlessly--my blood will be required of you bymy countrymen in this world, and by Heaven's justice in that which is tofollow."

  "I will answer for my actions in both," said the Provost, coldly, andmade a sign with his left hand to the executioners; then, with a smileof triumphant malice, touched with his forefinger his right arm, whichhung suspended in a scarf, disabled probably by the blow which Durwardhad dealt him that morning.

  "Miserable, vindictive wretch!" answered Quentin, persuaded by thataction that private revenge was the sole motive of this man's rigour,and that no mercy whatever was to be expected from him.

  "The poor youth raves," said the functionary: "speak a word of comfortto him ere he make his transit, Trois Eschelles; thou art a c
omfortableman in such cases when a confessor is not to be had. Give him one minuteof ghostly advice, and dispatch matters in the next. I must proceed onthe rounds.--Soldiers, follow me!"

  The Provost rode on, followed by his guard, excepting two or three, whowere left to assist in the execution. The unhappy youth cast after himan eye almost darkened by despair, and thought he heard in every trampof his horse's retreating hoofs the last slight chance of his safetyvanish. He looked around him in agony, and was surprised, even in thatmoment, to see the stoical indifference of his fellow prisoners. Theyhad previously testified every sign of fear, and made every effort ofescape; but now, when secured and destined apparently to inevitabledeath, they awaited its arrival with the utmost composure. The sceneof fate before them gave, perhaps, a more yellow tinge to their swarthycheeks; but it neither agitated their features, nor quenched thestubborn haughtiness of their eye. They seemed like foxes, which, afterall their wiles and artful attempts at escape are exhausted, die with asilent and sullen fortitude which wolves and bears, the fiercer objectsof the chase, do not exhibit. They were undaunted by the conduct of thefatal executioners, who went about their work with more deliberationthan their master had recommended, and which probably arose from theirhaving acquired by habit a sort of pleasure in the discharge of theirhorrid office. We pause an instant to describe them, because, undera tyranny, whether despotic or popular, the character of the hangmanbecomes a subject of grave importance.

  These functionaries were essentially different in their appearance andmanners. Louis used to call them Democritus and Heraclitus, and theirmaster, the Provost, termed them Jean qui pleure and Jean qui rit.

  [Democritus and Heraclitus: two Greek philosophers of the fifth century;the former because of his propensity to laugh at the follies of men wascalled the "laughing philosopher;" the latter, according to a currentnotion, probably unfounded, habitually wept over the follies of mankind]

  [Jean qui pleure, and Jean qui rit: John who weeps and John who laughs.One of these two persons,.. might with more accuracy have been calledPetit Jean, than Petit Andre. This was actually the name of the son ofHenry de Cousin, master executioner of the High Court of Justice. S.]

  Trois Eschelles was a tall, thin, ghastly man, with a peculiar gravityof visage, and a large rosary round his neck, the use of which he wasaccustomed piously to offer to those sufferers on whom he did hisduty. He had one or two Latin texts continually in his mouth on thenothingness and vanity of human life; and, had it been regular to haveenjoyed such a plurality, he might have held the office of confessorto the jail in commendam with that of executioner. Petit Andre, on thecontrary, was a joyous looking, round, active, little fellow, whorolled about in execution of his duty as if it were the most divertingoccupation in the world. He seemed to have a sort of fond affection forhis victims, and always spoke of them in kindly and affectionate terms.They were his poor honest fellows, his pretty dears, his gossips, hisgood old fathers, as their age or sex might be; and as Trois Eschellesendeavoured to inspire them with a philosophical or religious regard tofuturity, Petit Andre seldom failed to refresh them with a jest or two,as if to induce them to pass from life as something that was ludicrous,contemptible, and not worthy of serious consideration.

  I cannot tell why or wherefore it was, but these two excellent persons,notwithstanding the variety of their talents, and the rare occurrence ofsuch among persons of their profession, were both more utterly detestedthan perhaps any creatures of their kind, whether before or since; andthe only doubt of those who knew aught of them was, whether the graveand pathetic Trois Eschelles or the frisky, comic, alert Petit Andrewas the object of the greatest fear, or of the deepest execration. Itis certain they bore the palm in both particulars over every hangmanin France, unless it were perhaps their master Tristan l'Hermite, therenowned Provost Marshal, or his master, Louis XI.

  It must not be supposed that these reflections were of Quentin Durward'smaking. Life, death, time, and eternity were swimming before his eyes--astunning and overwhelming prospect, from which human nature recoiled inits weakness, though human pride would fain have borne up. He addressedhimself to the God of his fathers; and when he did so, the little rudeand unroofed chapel, which now held almost all his race but himself,rushed on his recollection.

  "Our feudal enemies gave my kindred graves in our own land," he thought,"but I must feed the ravens and kites of a foreign land, like anexcommunicated felon!"

  The tears gushed involuntarily from his eyes. Trois Eschelles, touchingone shoulder, gravely congratulated him on his heavenly dispositionfor death, and pathetically exclaiming, Beati qui in Domino moriuntur[blessed are they who die in the Lord], remarked, the soul was happythat left the body while the tear was in the eye. Petit Andre, slappingthe other shoulder, called out, "Courage, my fair son! since you mustbegin the dance, let the ball open gaily, for all the rebecs are intune," twitching the halter at the same time, to give point to his joke.As the youth turned his dismayed looks, first on one and then on theother, they made their meaning plainer by gently urging him forward tothe fatal tree, and bidding him be of good courage, for it would be overin a moment.

  In this fatal predicament, the youth cast a distracted look around him."Is there any good Christian who hears me," he said, "that will tellLudovic Lesly of the Scottish Guard, called in this country Le Balafre,that his nephew is here basely murdered?" The words were spoken in goodtime, for an Archer of the Scottish Guard, attracted by the preparationsfor the execution, was standing by, with one or two other chancepassengers, to witness what was passing.

  "Take heed what you do," he said to the executioners, "if this young manbe of Scottish birth, I will not permit him to have foul play."

  "Heaven forbid, Sir Cavalier," said Trois Eschelles; "but we must obeyour orders," drawing Durward forward by one arm. "The shortest play isever the fairest," said Petit Andre, pulling him onward by the other.

  But Quentin had heard words of comfort, and, exerting his strength, hesuddenly shook off both the finishers of the law, and, with his armsstill bound, ran to the Scottish Archer. "Stand by me, countryman," hesaid, in his own language, "for the love of Scotland and Saint Andrew!I am innocent--I am your own native landsman. Stand by me, as you shallanswer at the last day."

  "By Saint Andrew! they shall make at you through me!" said the Archer,and unsheathed his sword.

  "Cut my bonds, countryman," said Quentin, "and I will do something formyself."

  This was done with a touch of the Archer's weapon, and the liberatedcaptive, springing suddenly on one of the Provost's guard, wrested fromhim a halbert with which he was armed. "And now" he said, "come on, ifyou dare."

  The two officers whispered together.

  "Ride thou after the Provost Marshal," said Trois Eschelles, "and I willdetain them here, if I can. Soldiers of the Provost's guard, stand toyour arms."

  Petit Andre mounted his horse, and left the field, and the otherMarshals men in attendance drew together so hastily at the command ofTrois Eschelles, that they suffered the other two prisoners to maketheir escape during the confusion. Perhaps they were not very anxiousto detain them; for they had of late been sated with the blood ofsuch wretches, and, like other ferocious animals, were, through longslaughter, become tired of carnage. But the pretext was, that theythought themselves immediately called upon to attend to the safety ofTrois Eschelles; for there was a jealousy, which occasionally led toopen quarrels, betwixt the Scottish Archers and the Marshal guards, whoexecuted the orders of their Provost.

  "We are strong enough to beat the proud Scots twice over, if it be yourpleasure," said one of these soldiers to Trois Eschelles.

  But that cautious official made a sign to him to remain quiet, andaddressed the Scottish Archer with great civility. "Surely, sir, thisis a great insult to the Provost Marshal, that you should presume tointerfere with the course of the King's justice, duly and lawfullycommitted to his charge; and it is no act of justice to me, who am inlawful possession of my criminal. Neither is it
a well meant kindnessto the youth himself, seeing that fifty opportunities of hanging him mayoccur, without his being found in so happy a state of preparation as hewas before your ill advised interference."

  "If my young countryman," said the Scot, smiling, "be of opinion I havedone him an injury, I will return him to your charge without a word moredispute."

  "No, no!--for the love of Heaven, no!" exclaimed Quentin. "I wouldrather you swept my head off with your long sword--it would betterbecome my birth, than to die by the hands of such a foul churl."

  "Hear how he revileth," said the finisher of the law. "Alas! how soonour best resolutions pass away!--he was in a blessed frame for departurebut now, and in two minutes he has become a contemner of authorities."

  "Tell me at once," said the Archer, "what has this young man done."

  "Interfered," answered Trois Eschelles, with some earnestness, "to takedown the dead body of a criminal, when the fleur de lys was marked onthe tree where he was hung with my own proper hand."

  "How is this, young man?" said the Archer; "how came you to havecommitted such an offence?"

  "As I desire your protection," answered Durward, "I will tell you thetruth as if I were at confession. I saw a man struggling on the tree,and I went to cut him down out of mere humanity. I thought neither offleur de lys nor of clove gilliflower, and had no more idea of offendingthe King of France than our Father the Pope."

  "What a murrain had you to do with the dead body, then?" said theArcher. "You 'll see them hanging, in the rear of this gentleman, likegrapes on every tree, and you will have enough to do in this countryif you go a-gleaning after the hangman. However, I will not quit acountryman's cause if I can help it.--Hark ye, Master Marshals man, yousee this is entirely a mistake. You should have some compassion on soyoung a traveller. In our country at home he has not been accustomed tosee such active proceedings as yours and your master's."

  "Not for want of need of them, Signior Archer," said Petit Andre, whoreturned at this moment. "Stand fast, Trois Eschelles, for here comesthe Provost Marshal; we shall presently see how he will relish havinghis work taken out of his hand before it is finished."

  "And in good time," said the Archer, "here come some of my comrades."

  Accordingly, as the Provost Tristan rode up with his patrol on one sideof the little bill which was the scene of the altercation, four or fiveScottish Archers came as hastily up on the other, and at their head theBalafre himself.

  Upon this urgency, Lesly showed none of that indifference towards hisnephew of which Quentin had in his heart accused him; for he no soonersaw his comrade and Durward standing upon their defence, than heexclaimed, "Cunningham, I thank thee.--Gentlemen--comrades,lend me your aid.--It is a young Scottish gentleman--mynephew--Lindesay--Guthrie--Tyrie, draw, and strike in!"

  There was now every prospect of a desperate scuffle between the parties,who were not so disproportioned in numbers but that the better arms ofthe Scottish cavaliers gave them an equal chance of victory. But theProvost Marshal, either doubting the issue of the conflict, or awarethat it would be disagreeable to the King, made a sign to his followersto forbear from violence, while he demanded of Balafre, who now puthimself forward as the head of the other party, what he, a cavalier ofthe King's Bodyguard, purposed by opposing the execution of a criminal.

  "I deny that I do so," answered the Balafre. "Saint Martin! [patronsaint of Tours, Lucca, and of penitent drunkards. He was greatlyhonoured in the Middle Ages.] there is, I think, some difference betweenthe execution of a criminal and a slaughter of my own nephew!"

  "Your nephew may be a criminal as well as another," said the ProvostMarshal; "and every stranger in France is amenable to the laws ofFrance."

  "Yes, but we have privileges, we Scottish Archers," said Balafre, "havewe not, comrades?"

  "Yes, yes," they all exclaimed together. "Privileges--privileges! Longlive King Louis--long live the bold Balafre--long live the ScottishGuard--and death to all who would infringe our privileges!"

  "Take reason with you, gentlemen cavaliers," said the Provost Marshal;"consider my commission."

  "We will have no reason at your hand," said Cunningham; "our ownofficers shall do us reason. We will be judged by the King's grace,or by our own Captain, now that the Lord High Constable is not inpresence."

  "And we will be hanged by none," said Lindesay, "but Sandie Wilson, theauld Marshals man of our ain body."

  "It would be a positive cheating of Sandie, who is as honest a man asever tied noose upon hemp, did we give way to any other proceeding,"said the Balafre. "Were I to be hanged myself, no other should tietippet about my craig."

  "But hear ye," said the Provost Marshal, "this young fellow belongs notto you, and cannot share what you call your privileges."

  "What we call our privileges, all shall admit to be such," saidCunningham.

  "We will not hear them questioned!" was the universal cry of theArchers.

  "Ye are mad, my masters," said Tristan l'Hermite. "No one disputes yourprivileges; but this youth is not one of you."

  "He is my nephew," said the Balafre, with a triumphant air.

  "But no Archer of the Guard, I think," retorted Tristan l'Hermite.

  The Archers looked on each other in some uncertainty.

  "Stand to it yet, comrade," whispered Cunningham to Balafre. "Say he isengaged with us."

  "Saint Martin! you say well, fair countryman," answered Lesly; andraising his voice, swore that he had that day enrolled his kinsman asone of his own retinue. This declaration was a decisive argument.

  "It is well, gentlemen," said the Provost Tristan, who was aware ofthe King's nervous apprehension of disaffection creeping in among hisGuards. "You know, as you say, your privileges, and it is not my duty tohave brawls with the King's Guards, if it is to be avoided. But I willreport this matter for the King's own decision; and I would have youto be aware, that, in doing so, I act more mildly than perhaps my dutywarrants."

  So saying, he put his troop into motion, while the Archers, remaining onthe spot, held a hasty consultation what was next to be done. "We mustreport the matter to Lord Crawford, our Captain, in the first place, andhave the young fellow's name put on the roll."

  "But, gentlemen, and my worthy friends and preservers," said Quentin,with some hesitation, "I have not yet determined whether to take servicewith you or no."

  "Then settle in your own mind," said his uncle, "whether you choose todo so, or be hanged--for I promise you, that, nephew of mine as you are,I see no other chance of your 'scaping the gallows."

  This was an unanswerable argument, and reduced Quentin at once toacquiesce in what he might have otherwise considered as no veryagreeable proposal; but the recent escape from the halter, which hadbeen actually around his neck, would probably have reconciled him to aworse alternative than was proposed.

  "He must go home with us to our caserne," said Cunningham; "there isno safety for him out of our bounds, whilst these man hunters areprowling."

  "May I not then abide for this night at the hostelry where Ibreakfasted, fair uncle?" said the youth--thinking, perhaps, like many anew recruit, that even a single night of freedom was something gained.

  "Yes, fair nephew," answered his uncle, ironically, "that we may havethe pleasure of fishing you out of some canal or moat, or perhaps outof a loop of the Loire, knit up in a sack for the greater convenienceof swimming--for that is like to be the end on't. The Provost Marshalsmiled on us when we parted," continued he, addressing Cunningham, "andthat is a sign his thoughts were dangerous."

  "I care not for his danger," said Cunningham; "such game as we arebeyond his bird bolts. But I would have thee tell the whole to theDevil's Oliver [Oliver Dain: Oliver's name, or nickname, was Le Diable,which was bestowed on him by public hatred, in exchange for Le Daim, orLe Dain. He was originally the King's barber, but afterwards a favouritecounsellor. S.], who is always a good friend to the Scottish Guard, andwill see Father Louis before the Provost can, for he is to shave himtomorrow."
br />   "But hark you," said Balafre, "it is ill going to Oliver empty handed,and I am as bare as the birch in December."

  "So are we all," said Cunningham. "Oliver must not scruple to take ourScottish words for once. We will make up something handsome among usagainst the next payday; and if he expects to share, let me tell you,the payday will come about all the sooner."

  "And now for the Chateau," said Balafre; "and my nephew shall tell us bythe way how he brought the Provost Marshal on his shoulders, that we mayknow how to frame our report both to Crawford and Oliver."