ing me to death or captivity, is a matter beyond
human brains to conjecture."

"No matter thinking of it, then," said Hayraddin, "for I mean still to
surprise you with my gratitude. Had you kept back my hire, I should have
held that we were quit, and had left you to your own foolish guidance.
As it is, I remain your debtor for yonder matter on the banks of the
Cher."

"Methinks I have already taken out the payment in cursing and abusing
thee," said Quentin.

"Hard words, or kind ones," said the Zingaro, "are but wind, which
make no weight in the balance. Had you struck me, indeed, instead of
threatening--"

"I am likely enough to take out payment in that way, if you provoke me
longer."

"I would not advise it," said the Zingaro, "such payment, made by a rash
hand, might exceed the debt, and unhappily leave a balance on your side,
which I am not one to forget or forgive. And now farewell, but not for a
long space--I go to bid adieu to the Ladies of Croye."

"Thou?" said Quentin, in astonishment--"thou be admitted to the presence
of the ladies, and here, where they are in a manner recluses under the
protection of the Bishop's sister, a noble canoness? It is impossible."

"Marthon, however, waits to conduct me to their presence," said the
Zingaro, with a sneer, "and I must pray your forgiveness if I leave you
something abruptly."

He turned as if to depart, but instantly coming back, said, with a tone
of deep and serious emphasis, "I know your hopes--they are daring, yet
not vain if I aid them. I know your fears, they should teach prudence,
not timidity. Every woman may be won. A count is but a nickname, which
will befit Quentin as well as the other nickname of duke befits Charles,
or that of king befits Louis."

Ere Durward could reply, the Bohemian had left the hall. Quentin
instantly followed, but, better acquainted than the Scot with the
passages of the house, Hayraddin kept the advantage which he had
gotten, and the pursuer lost sight of him as he descended a small back
staircase. Still Durward followed, though without exact consciousness of
his own purpose in doing so. The staircase terminated by a door opening
into the alley of a garden, in which he again beheld the Zingaro
hastening down a pleached walk.

On two sides, the garden was surrounded by the buildings of the
castle--a huge old pile, partly castellated, and partly resembling an
ecclesiastical building, on the other two sides, the enclosure was