evil take the ease and familiarity of this old mechanical
burgher!" said Durward once more to himself. "He uses the attendance of
a noble Scottish gentleman with as little ceremony as I would that of a
gillie from Glen Isla."

The merchant, in the meanwhile, having finished his cup of water, said
to his companion, "From the zeal with which you seem to relish the
Vin de Beaulne, I fancy you would not care much to pledge me in this
elemental liquor. But I have an elixir about me which can convert even
the rock water into the richest wines of France."

As he spoke, he took a large purse from his bosom, made of the fur of
the sea otter, and streamed a shower of small silver pieces into the
goblet, until the cup, which was but a small one, was more than half
full.

"You have reason to be more thankful, young man," said Maitre Pierre,
"both to your patron Saint Quentin and to Saint Julian, than you seemed
to be but now. I would advise you to bestow alms in their name. Remain
in this hostelry until you see your kinsman, Le Balafre, who will be
relieved from guard in the afternoon. I will cause him to be acquainted
that he may find you here, for I have business in the Castle."

Quentin Durward would have said something to have excused himself from
accepting the profuse liberality of his new friend; but Maitre Pierre,
bending his dark brows, and erecting his stooping figure into an
attitude of more dignity than he had yet seen him assume, said in a tone
of authority, "No reply, young man, but do what you are commanded."

With these words he left the apartment, making a sign, as he departed,
that Quentin must not follow him.

The young Scotsman stood astounded, and knew not what to think of
the matter. His first most natural, though perhaps not most dignified
impulse, drove him to peer into the silver goblet, which assuredly was
more than half full of silver pieces to the number of several scores, of
which perhaps Quentin had never called twenty his own at one time during
the course of his whole life. But could he reconcile it to his dignity
as a gentleman, to accept the money of this wealthy plebeian?--This was
a trying question; for, though he had secured a good breakfast, it was
no great reserve upon which to travel either back to Dijon, in case he
chose to hazard the wrath and enter the service of the Duke of Burgundy,
or to Saint Quentin, if he fixed on that of the Constable Saint Paul;
for to one of those powers, if n