CHAPTER X: THE SENTINEL
Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
THE TEMPEST
I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death.
COMUS
Quentin had hardly reached his little cabin, in order to make somenecessary changes in his dress, when his worthy relation required toknow the full particulars of all that had befallen him at the hunt.
The youth, who could not help thinking that his uncle's hand wasprobably more powerful than his understanding, took care, in his reply,to leave the King in full possession of the victory which he had seemeddesirous to appropriate. Le Balafre's reply was a boast of how muchbetter he himself would have behaved in the like circumstances, and itwas mixed with a gentle censure of his nephew's slackness in not makingin to the King's assistance, when he might be in imminent peril. Theyouth had prudence, in answer, to abstain from all farther indicationof his own conduct, except that, according to the rules of woodcraft, heheld it ungentle to interfere with the game attacked by another hunter,unless he was specially called upon for his assistance. The discussionwas scarcely ended, when occasion was afforded Quentin to congratulatehimself for observing some reserve towards his kinsman. A low tap at thedoor announced a visitor--it was presently opened, and Oliver Dain, orMauvais, or Diable, for by all these names he was known, entered theapartment.
This able but most unprincipled man has been already described in so faras his exterior is concerned. The aptest resemblance of his motionsand manners might perhaps be to those of a domestic cat, which, whilecouching in seeming slumber, or gliding through the apartment with slow,stealthy, and timid steps, is now engaged in watching the hole of someunfortunate mouse, now in rubbing herself with apparent confidenceand fondness against those by whom she desires to be caressed, and,presently after, is flying upon her prey, or scratching, perhaps, thevery object of her former cajolements.
He entered with stooping shoulders, a humble and modest look, and threwsuch a degree of civility into his address to the Seignior Balafre, thatno one who saw the interview could have avoided concluding that he cameto ask a boon of the Scottish Archer. He congratulated Lesly on theexcellent conduct of his young kinsman in the chase that day, which, heobserved, had attracted the King's particular attention. He here pausedfor a reply; and, with his eyes fixed on the ground, save just when onceor twice they stole upwards to take a side glance at Quentin, he heardBalafre observe that his Majesty had been unlucky in not having himselfby his side instead of his nephew, as he would questionless have madein, and speared the brute, a matter which he understood Quentin had leftupon his Majesty's royal hands, so far as he could learn the story.
"But it will be a lesson to his Majesty," he said, "while he lives, tomount a man of my inches on a better horse; for how could my great hillof a Flemish dray horse keep up with his Majesty's Norman runner? Iam sure I spurred till his sides were furrowed. It is ill considered,Master Oliver, and you must represent it to his Majesty."
Master Oliver only replied to this observation by turning towardsthe bold, bluff speaker one of those slow, dubious glances which,accompanied by a slight motion of the hand, and a gentle depression ofthe head to one side, may be either interpreted as a mute assent towhat is said, or as a cautious deprecation of farther prosecution of thesubject. It was a keener, more scrutinizing glance, which he bent on theyouth, as he said, with an ambiguous smile, "So, young man, is it thewont of Scotland to suffer your Princes to be endangered for the lack ofaid in such emergencies as this of today?"
"It is our custom," answered Quentin, determined to throw no fartherlight on the subject, "not to encumber them with assistance inhonourable pastimes, when they can aid themselves without it. We holdthat a Prince in a hunting field must take his chance with others, andthat he comes there for the very purpose. What were woodcraft withoutfatigue and without danger?"
"You hear the silly boy," said his uncle; "that is always the way withhim; he hath an answer or a reason ready to be rendered to every one. Iwonder whence he hath caught the gift; I never could give a reasonfor anything I have ever done in my life, except for eating when I wasa-hungry, calling the muster roll, and such points of duty as the like."
"And pray, worthy Seignior," said the royal tonsor, looking at him fromunder his eyelids, "what might your reason be for calling the musterroll on such occasions?"
"Because the Captain commanded me," said Le Balafre. "By Saint Giles[patron saint of lepers, beggars, and cripples. He has been especiallyvenerated in England and Scotland], I know no other reason! If he hadcommanded Tyrie or Cunningham, they must have done the same."
"A most military final cause!" said Oliver. "But, Seignior Le Balafre,you will be glad, doubtless, to learn that his Majesty is so far frombeing displeased with your nephew's conduct, that he hath selected himto execute a piece of duty this afternoon."
"Selected him?" said Balafre in great surprise--"selected me, I supposeyou mean?"
"I mean precisely as I speak," replied the barber, in a mild but decidedtone; "the King hath a commission with which to intrust your nephew."
"Why, wherefore, and for what reason?" said Balafre. "Why doth he choosethe boy, and not me?"
"I can go no farther back than your own ultimate cause, Seignior LeBalafre, such are his Majesty's commands. But," said he, "if I might usethe presumption to form a conjecture, it may be his Majesty hath work todo, fitter for a youth like your nephew, than for an experienced warriorlike yourself, Seignior Balafre.--Wherefore, young gentleman, get yourweapons and follow me. Bring with you a harquebuss, for you are to mountsentinel."
"Sentinel!" said the uncle. "Are you sure you are right, Master Oliver?The inner guards of the Castle have ever been mounted by those only whohave (like me) served twelve years in our honourable body."
"I am quite certain of his Majesty's pleasure," said Oliver, "and mustno longer delay executing it."
"But," said Le Balafre, "my nephew is not even a free Archer, being onlyan Esquire, serving under my lance."
"Pardon me," answered Oliver; "the King sent for the register not halfan hour since, and enrolled him among the Guard. Have the goodness toassist to put your nephew in order for the service."
Balafre, who had no ill nature, or even much jealousy in hisdisposition, hastily set about adjusting his nephew's dress, and givinghim directions for his conduct under arms, but was unable to refrainfrom larding them with interjections of surprise at such luck's chancingto fall upon the young man so early.
It had never taken place before in the Scottish Guard, he said, not evenin his own instance. But doubtless his service must be to mount guardover the popinjays and Indian peacocks, which the Venetian ambassadorhad lately presented to the King--it could be nothing else; and suchduty being only fit for a beardless boy (here he twirled his own grimmustaches), he was glad the lot had fallen on his fair nephew.
Quick and sharp of wit, as well as ardent in fancy, Quentin saw visionsof higher importance in this early summons to the royal presence,and his heart beat high at the anticipation of rising into speedydistinction. He determined carefully to watch the manners and languageof his conductor, which he suspected must, in some cases at least,be interpreted by contraries, as soothsayers are said to discoverthe interpretation of dreams. He could not but hug himself on havingobserved strict secrecy on the events of the chase, and then formed aresolution, which, for so young a person, had much prudence in it, thatwhile he breathed the air of this secluded and mysterious Court, hewould keep his thoughts locked in his bosom, and his tongue under themost careful regulation.
His equipment was soon complete, and, with his harquebuss on hisshoulder (for though they retained the name of Archers, the ScottishGuard very early substituted firearms for the long bow, in the use ofwhich their nation never excelled), he followed Master Oliver out of thebarrack.
His uncle looked long after him, with a countenance in which wonderwas blended with
curiosity; and though neither envy nor the malignantfeelings which it engenders entered into his honest meditations, therewas yet a sense of wounded or diminished self importance, which mingledwith the pleasure excited by his nephew's favourable commencement ofservice.
He shook his head gravely, opened a privy cupboard, took out a largebottrine of stout old wine, shook it to examine how low the contentshad ebbed, filled and drank a hearty cup; then took his seat, halfreclining, on the great oaken settle; and having once again slowlyshaken his head, received so much apparent benefit from the oscillation,that, like the toy called a mandarin, he continued the motion until hedropped into a slumber, from which he was first roused by the signal todinner.
When Quentin Durward left his uncle to these sublime meditations, hefollowed his conductor, Master Oliver, who, without crossing any of theprincipal courts, led him, partly through private passages exposedto the open air, but chiefly through a maze of stairs, vaults, andgalleries, communicating with each other by secret doors and atunexpected points, into a large and spacious latticed gallery, which,from its breadth, might have been almost termed a hall, hung withtapestry more ancient than beautiful, and with a very few of the hard,cold, ghastly looking pictures, belonging to the first dawn of the artswhich preceded their splendid sunrise. These were designed to representthe Paladins of Charlemagne, who made such a distinguished figure in theromantic history of France; and as this gigantic form of the celebratedOrlando constituted the most prominent figure, the apartment acquiredfrom him the title of Rolando's Hall, or Roland's Gallery.
[Charlemagne... was accounted a saint during the dark ages: andLouis XI, as one of his successors, honoured his shrine with peculiarobservance. S.]
[Orlando: also called Roland. His history may be read in the Chanson deRoland.]
"You will keep watch here," said Oliver, in a low whisper, as if thehard delineations of monarchs and warriors around could have beenoffended at the elevation of his voice, or as if he had feared to awakenthe echoes that lurked among the groined vaults and Gothic drop work onthe ceiling of this huge and dreary apartment.
"What are the orders and signs of my watch?" answered Quentin, in thesame suppressed tone.
"Is your harquebuss loaded?" replied Oliver, without answering hisquery.
"That," answered Quentin, "is soon done;" and proceeded to charge hisweapon, and to light the slow match (by which when necessary it wasdischarged) at the embers of a wood fire, which was expiring in the hugehall chimney--a chimney itself so large that it might have been called aGothic closet or chapel appertaining to the hall.
When this was performed, Oliver told him that he was ignorant of one ofthe high privileges of his own corps, which only received orders fromthe King in person, or the High Constable of France, in lieu of theirown officers. "You are placed here by his Majesty's command, young man,"added Oliver, "and you will not be long here without knowing whereforeyou are summoned. Meantime your walk extends along this gallery. You arepermitted to stand still while you list, but on no account to sit down,or quit your weapon. You are not to sing aloud, or whistle, upon anyaccount; but you may, if you list, mutter some of the church's prayers,or what else you list that has no offence in it, in a low voice.Farewell, and keep good watch."
"Good watch!" thought the youthful soldier as his guide stole away fromhim with that noiseless gliding step which was peculiar to him, andvanished through a side door behind the arras.
"Good watch! but upon whom and against whom?--for what, save batsor rats, are there here to contend with, unless these grim oldrepresentatives of humanity should start into life for the disturbanceof my guard? Well, it is my duty, I suppose, and I must perform it."
With the vigorous purpose of discharging his duty, even to the veryrigour, he tried to while away the time with some of the pious hymnswhich he had learned in the convent in which he had found shelter afterthe death of his father--allowing in his own mind, that, but for thechange of a novice's frock for the rich military dress which he nowwore, his soldierly walk in the royal gallery of France resembledgreatly those of which he had tired excessively in the cloisteredseclusion of Aberbrothick.
Presently, as if to convince himself he now belonged not to the cell butto the world, he chanted to himself, but in such tone as not to exceedthe license given to him, some of the ancient rude ballads which the oldfamily harper had taught him, of the defeat of the Danes at Aberlemnoand Forres, the murder of King Duffus at Forfar, and other pithy sonnetsand lays which appertained to the history of his distant native country,and particularly of the district to which he belonged. This wore away aconsiderable space of time, and it was now more than two hours pastnoon when Quentin was reminded by his appetite that the good fathers ofAberbrothick, however strict in demanding his attendance upon thehours of devotion, were no less punctual in summoning him to those ofrefection; whereas here, in the interior of a royal palace, after amorning spent in exercise, and a noon exhausted in duty, no man seemedto consider it as a natural consequence that he must be impatient forhis dinner.
There are, however, charms in sweet sounds which can lull to rest eventhe natural feelings of impatience by which Quentin was now visited.At the opposite extremities of the long hall or gallery were twolarge doors, ornamented with heavy architraves, probably opening intodifferent suites of apartments, to which the gallery served as a mediumof mutual communication. As the sentinel directed his solitary walkbetwixt these two entrances, which formed the boundary of his duty, hewas startled by a strain of music which was suddenly waked near one ofthose doors, and which, at least in his imagination, was a combinationof the same lute and voice by which he had been enchanted on thepreceding day. All the dreams of yesterday morning, so much weakened bythe agitating circumstances which he had since undergone, again arosemore vivid from their slumber, and, planted on the spot where his earcould most conveniently, drink in the sounds, Quentin remained, with hisharquebuss shouldered, his mouth half open, ear, eye, and souldirected to the spot, rather the picture of a sentinel than a livingform,--without any other idea than that of catching, if possible, eachpassing sound of the dulcet melody.
These delightful sounds were but partially heard--they languished,lingered, ceased entirely, and were from time to time renewed afteruncertain intervals. But, besides that music, like beauty, is often mostdelightful, or at least most interesting, to the imagination when itscharms are but partially displayed and the imagination is left to fillup what is from distance but imperfectly detailed, Quentin had matterenough to fill up his reverie during the intervals of fascination. Hecould not doubt, from the report of his uncle's comrades and the scenewhich had passed in the presence chamber that morning, that the sirenwho thus delighted his ears, was not, as he had profanely supposed, thedaughter or kinswoman of a base Cabaretier [inn keeper], but the samedisguised and distressed Countess for whose cause kings and princes werenow about to buckle on armour, and put lance in rest. A hundred wilddreams, such as romantic and adventurous youth readily nourished ina romantic and adventurous age, chased from his eyes the bodilypresentiment of the actual scene, and substituted their own bewilderingdelusions, when at once, and rudely, they were banished by a rough grasplaid upon his weapon, and a harsh voice which exclaimed, close to hisear, "Ha! Pasques dieu, Sir Squire, methinks you keep sleepy ward."
The voice was the tuneless, yet impressive and ironical tone of MaitrePierre, and Quentin, suddenly recalled to himself, saw, with shame andfear, that he had, in his reverie, permitted Louis himself--enteringprobably by some secret door, and gliding along by the wall, or behindthe tapestry--to approach him so nearly as almost to master his weapon.
The first impulse of his surprise was to free his harquebuss by aviolent exertion, which made the King stagger backward into the hall.His next apprehension was that, in obeying the animal instinct, as itmay be termed, which prompts a brave man to resist an attempt to disarmhim, he had aggravated, by a personal struggle with the King, thedispleasure produced by the negligence with which he had
performed hisduty upon guard; and, under this impression, he recovered his harquebusswithout almost knowing what he did, and, having again shouldered it,stood motionless before the Monarch, whom he had reason to conclude hehad mortally offended.
Louis, whose tyrannical disposition was less founded on natural ferocityor cruelty of temper, than on cold blooded policy and jealous suspicion,had, nevertheless, a share of that caustic severity which would havemade him a despot in private conversation, and he always seemed to enjoythe pain which he inflicted on occasions like the present. But hedid not push his triumph far, and contented himself with saying, "Thyservice of the morning hath already overpaid some negligence in so younga soldier.--Hast thou dined?"
Quentin, who rather looked to be sent to the Provost Marshal thangreeted with such a compliment, answered humbly in the negative.
"Poor lad," said Louis, in a softer tone than he usually spoke in,"hunger hath made him drowsy.--I know thine appetite is a wolf," hecontinued; "and I will save thee from one wild beast as thou didst mefrom another; thou hast been prudent too in that matter, and I thankthee for it.--Canst thou yet hold out an hour without food?"
"Four-and-twenty, Sire," replied Durward, "or I were no true Scot."
"I would not for another kingdom be the pasty which should encounterthee after such a vigil," said the King; "but the question now is,not of thy dinner, but of my own. I admit to my table this day, and instrict privacy, the Cardinal Balue and this Burgundian--this Count deCrevecoeur--and something may chance; the devil is most busy when foesmeet on terms of truce."
He stopped, and remained silent, with a deep and gloomy look. As theKing was in no haste to proceed, Quentin at length ventured to ask whathis duty was to be in these circumstances.
"To keep watch at the beauffet, with thy loaded weapon," said Louis;"and if there is treason, to shoot the traitor."
"Treason, Sire! and in this guarded castle!" exclaimed Durward.
"You think it impossible," said the King, not offended, it would seem,by his frankness; "but our history has shown that treason can creep intoan auger hole.--Treason excluded by guards! Oh, thou silly boy!--quiscustodiat ipsos custodes--who shall exclude the treason of those verywarders?"
"Their Scottish honour," answered Durward, boldly.
"True: most right:--thou pleasest me," said the King, cheerfully;"the Scottish honour was ever true, and I trust it accordingly. Buttreason!"--here he relapsed into his former gloomy mood, and traversedthe apartment with unequal steps--"she sits at our feasts, she sparklesin our bowls, she wears the beard of our counsellors, the smiles of ourcourtiers, the crazy laugh of our jesters--above all, she lies hid underthe friendly air of a reconciled enemy. Louis of Orleans trusted John ofBurgundy--he was murdered in the Rue Barbette. John of Burgundy trustedthe faction of Orleans--he was murdered on the bridge of Montereau.--Iwill trust no one--no one. Hark ye; I will keep my eye on that insolentCount; ay, and on the churchman too, whom I hold not too faithful. WhenI say, Ecosse, en avant [Forward, Scotland], shoot Crevecoeur dead onthe spot."
"It is my duty," said Quentin, "your Majesty's life being endangered."
"Certainly--I mean it no otherwise," said the King. "What should I getby slaying this insolent soldier?--Were it the Constable Saint Paulindeed"--here he paused, as if he thought he had said a word too much,but resumed, laughing, "our brother-in-law, James of Scotland--your ownJames, Quentin--poniarded the Douglas when on a hospitable visit, withinhis own royal castle of Skirling."
[Douglas: the allusion in the text is to the fate of James, Earl ofDouglas, who, upon the faith of a safe conduct, after several acts ofrebellion, visited James the Second in the Castle of Stirling. The kingstabbed Douglas, who received his mortal wound from Sir Patrick Grey,one of the king's attendants.]
"Of Stirling," said Quentin, "and so please your Highness.--It was adeed of which came little good."
"Stirling call you the castle?" said the King, overlooking the latterpart of Quentin's speech. "Well, let it be Stirling--the name is nothingto the purpose. But I meditate no injury to these men--none.--It wouldserve me nothing. They may not purpose equally fair by me--I rely on thyharquebuss."
"I shall be prompt at the signal," said Quentin; "but yet"
"You hesitate," said the King. "Speak out--I give thee full leave. Fromsuch as thou art, hints may be caught that are right valuable."
"I would only presume to say," replied Quentin, "that your Majestyhaving occasion to distrust this Burgundian, I marvel that you sufferhim to approach so near your person, and that in privacy."
"Oh, content you, Sir Squire," said the King. "There are some dangerswhich when they are braved, disappear, and which yet, when there isan obvious and apparent dread of them displayed, become certain andinevitable. When I walk boldly up to a surly mastiff, and caress him,it is ten to one I soothe him to good temper; if I show fear of him,he flies on me and rends me. I will be thus far frank with thee.--Itconcerns me nearly that this man returns not to his headlong master ina resentful humour. I run my risk, therefore. I have never shunned toexpose my life for the weal of my kingdom. Follow me."
Louis led his young Life Guardsman, for whom he seemed to have taken aspecial favour, through the side door by which he had himself entered,saying, as he showed it him, "He who would thrive at Court must know theprivate wickets and concealed staircases--ay, and the traps and pitfallsof the palace, as well as the principal entrances, folding doors, andportals."
After several turns and passages, the King entered a small vaultedroom, where a table was prepared for dinner with three covers. The wholefurniture and arrangements of the room were plain almost to meanness. Abeauffet, or folding and movable cupboard, held a few pieces of gold andsilver plate, and was the only article in the chamber which had in theslightest degree the appearance of royalty. Behind this cupboard, andcompletely hidden by it, was the post which Louis assigned to QuentinDurward; and after having ascertained, by going to different parts ofthe room, that he was invisible from all quarters, he gave him his lastcharge: "Remember the word, Posse, en avant; and so soon as ever I utterthese sounds, throw down the screen--spare not for cup or goblet, and besure thou take good aim at Crevecoeur--if thy piece fail, cling to him,and use thy knife--Oliver and I can deal with the Cardinal."
Having thus spoken, he whistled aloud, and summoned into the apartmentOliver, who was premier valet of the chamber as well as barber, and who,in fact, performed all offices immediately connected with the King'sperson, and who now appeared, attended by two old men, who were the onlyassistants or waiters at the royal table. So soon as the King had takenhis place, the visitors were admitted; and Quentin, though himselfunseen, was so situated as to remark all the particulars of theinterview.
The King welcomed his visitors with a degree of cordiality which Quentinhad the utmost difficulty to reconcile with the directions which hehad previously received, and the purpose for which he stood behind thebeauffet with his deadly weapon in readiness. Not only did Louis appeartotally free from apprehension of any kind, but one would have supposedthat those visitors whom he had done the high honour to admit to histable were the very persons in whom he could most unreservedlyconfide, and whom he was, most willing to honour. Nothing could be moredignified, and, at the same time, more courteous than his demeanour.While all around him, including even his own dress, was far beneaththe splendour which the petty princes of the kingdom displayed intheir festivities, his own language and manners were those of a mightySovereign in his most condescending mood. Quentin was tempted tosuppose, either that the whole of his previous conversation with Louishad been a dream, or that the dutiful demeanour of the Cardinal, and thefrank, open, and gallant bearing of the Burgundian noble had entirelyerased the King's suspicion.
But whilst the guests, in obedience to the King, were in the act ofplacing themselves at the table, his Majesty darted one keen glance onthem, and then instantly directed his look to Quentin's post. This wasdone in an instant; but the glance conveyed so much doubt and
hatredtowards his guests, such a peremptory injunction on Quentin to bewatchful in attendance, and prompt in execution, that no room was leftfor doubting that the sentiments of Louis continued unaltered, and hisapprehensions unabated. He was, therefore, more than ever astonished atthe deep veil under which that Monarch was able to conceal the movementsof his jealous disposition.
Appearing to have entirely forgotten the language which Crevecoeur hadheld towards him in the face of his Court, the King conversed with himof old times, of events which had occurred during his own exile in theterritories of Burgundy, and inquired respecting all the nobles withwhom he had been then familiar, as if that period had indeed beenthe happiest of his life, and as if he retained towards all who hadcontributed to soften the term of his exile, the kindest and mostgrateful sentiments.
"To an ambassador of another nation," he said, "I would have thrownsomething of state into our reception; but to an old friend, who oftenshared my board at the Castle of Genappes [during his residence inBurgundy, in his father's lifetime, Genappes was the usual abode ofLouis.... S.], I wished to show myself, as I love best to live, oldLouis of Valois, as simple and plain as any of his Parisian badauds[idlers]. But I directed them to make some better cheer than ordinaryfor you, Sir Count, for I know your Burgundian proverb, 'Mieux vaultbon repas que bel habit' [a good meal is better than a beautiful coat.(Present spelling is vaut.)]; and therefore I bid them have some careof our table. For our wine, you know well it is the subject of anold emulation betwixt France and Burgundy, which we will presentlyreconcile; for I will drink to you in Burgundy, and you, Sir Count,shall pledge me in Champagne.--Here, Oliver, let me have a cup of Vind'Auxerre;" and he hummed gaily a song then well known,
"Auxerre est le boisson des Rois."
[Auxerre wine is the beverage of kings]
"Here, Sir Count, I drink to the health of the noble Duke of Burgundy,our kind and loving cousin.--Oliver, replenish yon golden cup with Vinde Rheims, and give it to the Count on your knee--he represents ourloving brother.--My Lord Cardinal, we will ourself fill your cup."
"You have already, Sire, even to overflowing," said the Cardinal, withthe lowly mien of a favourite towards an indulgent master.
"Because we know that your Eminence can carry it with a steady hand,"said Louis. "But which side do you espouse in the great controversy,Sillery or Auxerre--France or Burgundy?"
"I will stand neutral, Sire," said the Cardinal, "and replenish my cupwith Auvernat."
"A neutral has a perilous part to sustain," said the King; but as heobserved the Cardinal colour somewhat, he glided from the subject andadded, "But you prefer the Auvernat, because it is so noble a wine itendures not water.--You, Sir Count, hesitate to empty your cup. I trustyou have found no national bitterness at the bottom."
"I would, Sire," said the Count de Crevecoeur, "that all nationalquarrels could be as pleasantly ended as the rivalry betwixt ourvineyards."
"With time, Sir Count," answered the King, "with time--such time as youhave taken to your draught of Champagne.--And now that it is finished,favour me by putting the goblet in your bosom, and keeping it as apledge of our regard. It is not to every one that we would part with it.It belonged of yore to that terror of France, Henry V of England, andwas taken when Rouen was reduced, and those islanders expelled fromNormandy by the joint arms of France and Burgundy. It cannot be betterbestowed than on a noble and valiant Burgundian, who well knows that onthe union of these two nations depends the continuance of the freedom ofthe continent from the English yoke."
The Count made a suitable answer, and Louis gave unrestrained way tothe satirical gaiety of disposition which sometimes enlivened the darkershades of his character. Leading, of course, the conversation, hisremarks, always shrewd and caustic, and often actually witty, wereseldom good natured, and the anecdotes with which he illustrated themwere often more humorous than delicate; but in no one word, syllable,or letter did he betray the state of mind of one who, apprehensive ofassassination, hath in his apartment an armed soldier with his pieceloaded, in order to prevent or anticipate an attack on his person.
The Count de Crevecoeur gave frankly in to the King's humour [the natureof Louis XI's coarse humour may be guessed at by those who have perusedthe Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles, which are grosser than most similarcollections of the age. S.]; while the smooth churchman laughed at everyjest and enhanced every ludicrous idea, without exhibiting any shame atexpressions which made the rustic young Scot blush even in his place ofconcealment. In about an hour and a half the tables were drawn; and theKing, taking courteous leave of his guests, gave the signal that it washis desire to be alone.
So soon as all, even Oliver, had retired, he called Quentin from hisplace of concealment; but with a voice so faint, that the youth couldscarcely believe it to be the same which had so lately given animationto the jest, and zest to the tale. As he approached, he saw an equalchange in his countenance. The light of assumed vivacity had left theKing's eyes, the smile had deserted his face, and he exhibited allthe fatigue of a celebrated actor, when he has finished the exhaustingrepresentation of some favourite character, in which, while upon thestage, he had displayed the utmost vivacity.
"Thy watch is not yet over," said he to Quentin; "refresh thyself foran instant--yonder table affords the means; I will then instruct thee inthy farther duty. Meanwhile it is ill talking between a full man and afasting."
He threw himself back on his seat, covered his brow with his hand, andwas silent.