, "Umph--I see it is as I conjectured, on one side at
least, I trust the other party has kept her senses better.--Come, Sir
Squire, spur on, and keep the van, while I fall back to discourse with
the Lady Isabelle. I think I have learned now so much from you, that I
can talk to her of these sad passages without hurting her nicety, though
I have fretted yours a little.--Yet stay, young gallant--one word ere
you go. You have had, I imagine, a happy journey through Fairyland--all
full of heroic adventure, and high hope, and wild minstrel-like
delusion, like the gardens of Morgaine la Fee [half-sister of Arthur.
Her gardens abounded in all good things; music filled the air, and the
inhabitants enjoyed perpetual youth]. Forget it all, young soldier," he
added, tapping him on the shoulder, "remember yonder lady only as the
honoured Countess of Croye--forget her as a wandering and adventurous
damsel. And her friends--one of them I can answer for--will remember,
on their part, only the services you have done her, and forget the
unreasonable reward which you have had the boldness to propose to
yourself."

Enraged that he had been unable to conceal from the sharp sighted
Crevecoeur feelings which the Count seemed to consider as the object of
ridicule, Quentin replied indignantly, "My Lord Count, when I require
advice of you, I will ask it, when I demand assistance of you, it will
be time enough to grant or refuse it, when I set peculiar value on your
opinion of me, it will not be too late to express it."

"Heyday!" said the Count, "I have come between Amadis and Oriana, and
must expect a challenge to the lists!"

[Amadis is the hero of a famous mediaeval romance originally written in
Portuguese, but translated into French and much enlarged by subsequent
romancers. Amadis is represented as a model of chivalry. His lady was
Oriana.]

"You speak as if that were an impossibility," said Quentin. "When I
broke a lance with the Duke of Orleans, it was against a head in which
flowed better blood than that of Crevecoeur.--When I measured swords
with Dunois, I engaged a better warrior."

"Now Heaven nourish thy judgment, gentle youth," said Crevecoeur, still
laughing at the chivalrous inamorato. "If thou speak'st truth, thou hast
had singular luck in this world, and, truly, if it be the pleasure of
Providence exposes thee to such trials, without a beard on thy lip, thou
wilt be mad with vanity ere thou writest thyself man. Thou canst n