an invention, it is said, of the Cardinal Balue [who himself
tenanted one of these dens for more than eleven years. S. De Comines,
who also suffered this punishment, describes the cage as eight feet
wide, and a foot higher than a man.]. It is no wonder that the name of
this place of horrors, and the consciousness that he had been partly
the means of dispatching thither two such illustrious victims, struck so
much sadness into the heart of the young Scot that he rode for some
time with his head dejected, his eyes fixed on the ground, and his heart
filled with the most painful reflections.

As he was now again at the head of the little troop, and pursuing
the road which had been pointed out to him, the Lady Hameline had an
opportunity to say to him, "Methinks, fair sir, you regret the victory
which your gallantry has attained in our behalf?"

There was something in the question which sounded like irony, but
Quentin had tact enough to answer simply and with sincerity.

"I can regret nothing that is done in the service of such ladies as you
are, but, methinks, had it consisted with your safety, I had rather have
fallen by the sword of so good a soldier as Dunois, than have been the
means of consigning that renowned knight and his unhappy chief, the Duke
of Orleans, to yonder fearful dungeons."

"It was, then, the Duke of Orleans," said the elder lady, turning to
her niece. "I thought so, even at the distance from which we beheld the
fray.--You see, kinswoman, what we might have been, had this sly and
avaricious monarch permitted us to be seen at his Court. The first
Prince of the Blood of France, and the valiant Dunois, whose name is
known as wide as that of his heroic father.--This young gentleman did
his devoir bravely and well, but methinks 't is pity that he did not
succumb with honour, since his ill advised gallantry has stood betwixt
us and these princely rescuers."

The Countess Isabelle replied in a firm and almost a displeased tone,
with an energy, in short, which Quentin had not yet observed her
use. She said, "but that I know you jest, I would say your speech is
ungrateful to our brave defender, to whom we owe more, perhaps, than
you are aware of. Had these gentlemen succeeded so far in their rash
enterprise as to have defeated our escort, is it not still evident,
that, on the arrival of the Royal Guard, we must have shared their
captivity? For my own part, I give tears, and will soon bestow masses,
on the b