y to conduct the men at arms, even remain with them yourself, and
I will be the servant and guard of the Countess Isabelle of Croye."

"No doubt, fair nephew," answered his uncle, "this were a goodly
improvement on my scheme, but methinks I like it as well in the way I
planned it. Please you, therefore, to take notice, that your business
here is not to hunt after and stick these black hogs, for which you
seemed but now to have felt an especial vocation, but to collect and
bring to me true tidings of what is going forward in the country of
Liege, concerning which we hear such wild rumours. Let some half score
of lances follow me and the rest remain with my banner under your
guidance."

"Yet one moment, cousin of Crevecoeur," said the Countess Isabelle, "and
let me, in yielding myself prisoner, stipulate at least for the safety
of those who have befriended me in my misfortunes. Permit this good
fellow, my trusty guide, to go back unharmed to his native town of
Liege."

"My nephew," said Crevecoeur, after looking sharply at Glover's honest
breadth of countenance, "shall guard this good fellow, who seems,
indeed, to have little harm in him, as far into the territory as he
himself advances, and then leave him at liberty."

"Fail not to remember me to the kind Gertrude," said the Countess to her
guide, and added, taking a string of pearls from under her veil, "Pray
her to wear this in remembrance of her unhappy friend."

Honest Glover took the string of pearls, and kissed with clownish
gesture, but with sincere kindness, the fair hand which had found such a
delicate mode of remunerating his own labours and peril.

"Umph! signs and tokens," said the Count, "any farther bequests to make,
my fair cousin?--It is time we were on our way."

"Only," said the Countess, making an effort to speak, "that you will be
pleased to be favourable to this--this young gentleman."

"Umph!" said Crevecoeur, casting the same penetrating glance on Quentin
which he had bestowed on Glover, but apparently with a much less
satisfactory result, and mimicking, though not offensively, the
embarrassment of the Countess.

"Umph!--Ay--this is a blade of another temper.--And pray, my cousin,
what has this--this very young gentleman done, to deserve such
intercession at your hands?"

"He has saved my life and honour," said the Countess, reddening with
shame and resentment.

Quentin also blushed with indignation, but wisely concluded that to give