er, "I blame not thee, Jacqueline, and thou art too
young to be, what it is pity to think thou must be one day--a false and
treacherous thing, like the rest of thy giddy sex. No man ever lived
to man's estate, but he had the opportunity to know you all [he (Louis)
entertained great contempt for the understanding, and not less for the
character, of the fair sex. S.]. Here is a Scottish cavalier will tell
you the same."

Jacqueline looked for an instant on the young stranger, as if to obey
Maitre Pierre, but the glance, momentary as it was, appeared to
Durward a pathetic appeal to him for support and sympathy; and with
the promptitude dictated by the feelings of youth, and the romantic
veneration for the female sex inspired by his education, he answered
hastily that he would throw down his gage to any antagonist, of equal
rank and equal age, who should presume to say such a countenance as that
which he now looked upon, could be animated by other than the purest and
the truest mind.

The young woman grew deadly pale, and cast an apprehensive glance upon
Maitre Pierre, in whom the bravado of the young gallant seemed only to
excite laughter, more scornful than applausive. Quentin, whose second
thoughts generally corrected the first, though sometimes after they
had found utterance, blushed deeply at having uttered what might be
construed into an empty boast in presence of an old man of a peaceful
profession; and as a sort of just and appropriate penance, resolved
patiently to submit to the ridicule which he had incurred. He offered
the cup and trencher to Maitre Pierre with a blush in his cheek, and a
humiliation of countenance which endeavoured to disguise itself under an
embarrassed smile.

"You are a foolish young man," said Maitre Pierre, "and know as little
of women as of princes,--whose hearts," he said, crossing himself
devoutly, "God keeps in his right hand."

"And who keeps those of the women, then?" said Quentin, resolved, if he
could help it, not to be borne down by the assumed superiority of this
extraordinary old man, whose lofty and careless manner possessed an
influence over him of which he felt ashamed.

"I am afraid you must ask of them in another quarter," said Maitre
Pierre, composedly.

Quentin was again rebuffed, but not utterly disconcerted. "Surely,"
he said to himself, "I do not pay this same burgess of Tours all the
deference which I yield him, on account of the miserable obligation of
a break