trary,
greeted Meinheer Pavillon with a loud vivat [long live], as he ushered
in his distinguished guest. Quentin speedily laid aside his remarkable
bonnet for the cap of a felt maker, and flung a cloak over his other
apparel. Pavillon then furnished him with a passport to pass the
gates of the city, and to return by night or day as should suit his
convenience, and lastly, committed him to the charge of his daughter,
a fair and smiling Flemish lass, with instructions how he was to be
disposed of, while he himself hastened back to his colleague to amuse
their friends at the Stadthouse with the best excuses which they could
invent for the disappearance of King Louis's envoy. We cannot, as the
footman says in the play, recollect the exact nature of the lie which
the bell wethers told the flock, but no task is so easy as that of
imposing upon a multitude whose eager prejudices have more than half
done the business ere the impostor has spoken a word.

The worthy burgess was no sooner gone than his plump daughter, Trudchen,
with many a blush, and many a wreathed smile, which suited very prettily
with lips like cherries, laughing blue eyes, and a skin transparently
pure--escorted the handsome stranger through the pleached alleys of
the Sieur Pavillon's garden, down to the water side, and there saw him
fairly embarked in a boat, which two stout Flemings, in their trunk
hose, fur caps, and many buttoned jerkins, had got in readiness with as
much haste as their low country nature would permit.

As the pretty Trudchen spoke nothing but German, Quentin--no
disparagement to his loyal affection to the Countess of Croye--could
only express his thanks by a kiss on those same cherry lips, which was
very gallantly bestowed, and accepted with all modest gratitude, for
gallants with a form and face like our Scottish Archer were not of
everyday occurrence among the bourgeoisie of Liege [the French middle
class. The term has come to mean the middle class of any country,
especially those engaged in trade].

[The adventure of Quentin at Liege may be thought overstrained, yet it
is extraordinary what slight circumstances will influence the public
mind in a moment of doubt and uncertainty. Most readers must remember
that, when the Dutch were on the point of rising against the French
yoke, their zeal for liberation received a strong impulse from the
landing of a person in a British volunteer uniform, whose presence,
though that of a private in