well, and Maitre
Pierre owes thee as good entertainment as he gave thee at the Fleur de
Lys yonder.--Why dost thou not speak? Thou hast lost thy forwardness and
fire, methinks, at the Court, where others find both."

Quentin, as shrewd a youth as ever Scottish breeze breathed caution
into, had imbibed more awe than confidence towards his dangerous master,
and was far too wise to embrace the perilous permission of familiarity
which he seemed thus invited to use. He answered in very few and well
chosen words, that if he ventured to address his Majesty at all, it
could be but to crave pardon for the rustic boldness with which he had
conducted himself when ignorant of his high rank.

"Tush! man," said the King; "I forgive thy sauciness for thy spirit and
shrewdness. I admired how near thou didst hit upon my gossip Tristan's
occupation. You have nearly tasted of his handiwork since, as I am given
to understand. I bid thee beware of him; he is a merchant who deals in
rough bracelets and tight necklaces. Help me to my horse;--I like thee,
and will do thee good. Build on no man's favour but mine--not even on
thine uncle's or Lord Crawford's--and say nothing of thy timely aid in
this matter of the boar; for if a man makes boast that he has served
a King in such pinch, he must take the braggart humour for its own
recompense."

The King then winded his horn, which brought up Dunois and several
attendants, whose compliments he received on the slaughter of such a
noble animal, without scrupling to appropriate a much greater share
of merit than actually belonged to him; for he mentioned Durward's
assistance as slightly as a sportsman of rank, who, in boasting of the
number of birds which he has bagged, does not always dilate upon the
presence and assistance of the gamekeeper. He then ordered Dunois to see
that the boar's carcass was sent to the brotherhood of Saint Martin, at
Tours, to mend their fare on holydays, and that they might remember the
King in their private devotions.

"And," said Louis, "who hath seen his Eminence my Lord Cardinal?
Methinks it were but poor courtesy, and cold regard to Holy Church to
leave him afoot here in the forest."

"May it please you," said Quentin, when he saw that all were silent,
"I saw his Lordship the Cardinal accommodated with a horse, on which he
left the forest."

"Heaven cares for its own," replied the King. "Set forward to the
Castle, my lords; we'll hunt no more this morning.--You,