by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXIII: THE FLIGHT
Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible; Yea, get the better of them.
Set on your foot; And, with a heart new fired, I follow you, To do I know not what.
JULIUS CAESAR
In spite of a mixture of joy and fear, doubt, anxiety, and otheragitating passions, the exhausting fatigues of the preceding day werepowerful enough to throw the young Scot into a deep and profound repose,which lasted until late on the day following, when his worthy hostentered the apartment with looks of care on his brow.
He seated himself by his guest's bedside, and began a long andcomplicated discourse upon the domestic duties of a married life, andespecially upon the awful power and right supremacy which it becamemarried men to sustain in all differences of opinion with their wives.Quentin listened with some anxiety. He knew that husbands, like otherbelligerent powers, were sometimes disposed to sing Te Deum [Te Deumlaudamus: We praise Thee, O God; the first words of an ancienthymn, sung in the morning service of the Anglican and Roman CatholicChurches], rather to conceal a defeat than to celebrate a victory, andhe hastened to probe the matter more closely, by hoping their arrivalhad been attended with no inconvenience to the good lady of thehousehold.
"Inconvenience!--no," answered the Burgomaster.--"No woman can beless taken unawares than Mother Mabel--always happy to see herfriends--always a clean lodging and a handsome meal ready for them, withGod's blessing on bed and board.--No woman on earth so hospitable--only'tis pity her temper is something particular."
"Our residence here is disagreeable to her, in short?" said the Scot,starting out of bed, and beginning to dress himself hastily. "Were I butsure the Lady Isabelle were fit for travel after the horrors of the lastnight, we would not increase the offence by remaining here an instantlonger."
"Nay," said Pavillon, "that is just what the young lady herself said toMother Mabel, and truly I wish you saw the colour that came to her faceas she said it--a milkmaid that has skated five miles to market againstthe frost wind is a lily compared to it--I do not wonder Mother Mabelmay be a little jealous, poor dear soul."
"Has the Lady Isabelle then left her apartment?" said the youth,continuing his toilette operations with more dispatch than before.
"Yes," replied Pavillon, "and she expects your approach with muchimpatience, to determine which way you shall go since you are bothdetermined on going. But I trust you will tarry breakfast?"
"Why did you not tell me this sooner?" said Durward, impatiently.
"Softly--softly," said the Syndic, "I have told it you too soon, Ithink, if it puts you into such a hasty fluster. Now I have some morematter for your ear, if I saw you had some patience to listen to me."
"Speak it, worthy sir, as soon and as fast as you can--I listendevoutly."
"Well," resumed the Burgomaster, "I have but one word to say, and thatis that Trudchen, who is as sorry to part with yonder pretty lady as ifshe had been some sister of hers, wants you to take some other disguise,for there is word in the town that the Ladies of Croye travel thecountry in pilgrim's dresses, attended by a French life guardsman of theScottish Archers, and it is said one of them was brought into Schonwaldtlast night by a Bohemian after we had left it, and it was said stillfarther, that this same Bohemian had assured William de la Marck thatyou were charged with no message either to him or to the good people ofLiege, and that you had stolen away the young Countess, and travelledwith her as her paramour. And all this news hath come from Schonwaldtthis morning, and it has been told to us and the other councillors, whoknow not well what to advise, for though our own opinion is that Williamde la Marck has been a thought too rough both with the Bishop and withourselves, yet there is a great belief that he is a good natured soul atbottom--that is, when he is sober--and that he is the only leader inthe world to command us against the Duke of Burgundy, and, in truth, asmatters stand, it is partly my own mind that we must keep fair with him,for we have gone too far to draw back."
"Your daughter advises well," said Quentin Durward, abstaining fromreproaches or exhortations, which he saw would be alike unavailing tosway a resolution which had been adopted by the worthy magistrate incompliance at once with the prejudices of his party and the inclinationof his wife.
"Your daughter counsels well.--We must part in disguise, and thatinstantly. We may, I trust, rely upon you for the necessary secrecy, andfor the means of escape?"
"With all my heart--with all my heart," said the honest citizen, who,not much satisfied with the dignity of his own conduct, was eager tofind some mode of atonement. "I cannot but remember that I owed you mylife last night, both for unclasping that accursed steel doublet, andhelping me through the other scrape, which was worse, for yonder Boarand his brood look more like devils than men. So I will be true to youas blade to haft, as our cutlers say, who are the best in the wholeworld. Nay, now you are ready, come this way--you shall see how far Ican trust you."
The Syndic led him from the chamber in which he had slept to his owncounting room, in which he transacted his affairs of business, and afterbolting the door, and casting a piercing and careful eye around him,he opened a concealed and vaulted closet behind the tapestry, in whichstood more than one iron chest. He proceeded to open one which was fullof guilders, and placed it at Quentin's discretion to take whatever sumhe might think necessary for his companion's expenses and his own.
As the money with which Quentin was furnished on leaving Plessis wasnow nearly expended, he hesitated not to accept the sum of two hundredguilders, and by doing so took a great weight from the mind of Pavillon,who considered the desperate transaction in which he thus voluntarilybecame the creditor as an atonement for the breach of hospitality whichvarious considerations in a great measure compelled him to commit.
Having carefully locked his treasure chamber, the wealthy Fleming nextconveyed his guest to the parlour, where, in full possession of heractivity of mind and body, though pale from the scenes of the precedingnight, he found the Countess attired in the fashion of a Flemish maidenof the middling class. No other was present excepting Trudchen, who wassedulously employed in completing the Countess's dress, and instructingher how to bear herself. She extended her hand to him, which, when hehad reverently kissed, she said to him, "Seignior Quentin, we must leaveour friends here unless I would bring on them a part of the misery whichhas pursued me ever since my father's death. You must change your dressand go with me, unless you also are tired of befriending a being sounfortunate."
"I!--I tired of being your attendant!--To the end of the earth willI guard you! But you--you yourself--are you equal to the task youundertake!--Can you, after the terrors of last night"
"Do not recall them to my memory," answered the Countess, "I rememberbut the confusion of a horrid dream.--Has the excellent Bishop escaped?"
"I trust he is in freedom," said Quentin, making a sign to Pavillon, whoseemed about to enter on the dreadful narrative, to be silent.
"Is it possible for us to rejoin him?--Hath he gathered any power?" saidthe lady.
"His only hopes are in Heaven," said the Scot, "but wherever you wish togo, I stand by your side, a determined guide and guard."
"We will consider," said Isabelle, and after a moment's pause, sheadded, "A convent would be my choice, but that I fear it would prove aweak defence against those who pursue me."
"Hem! hem!" said the Syndic, "I could not well recommend a conventwithin the district of Liege, because the Boar of Ardennes, though inthe main a brave leader, a trusty confederate, and a well wisher to ourcity, has, nevertheless, rough humours, and payeth, on the whole, littleregard to cloisters, convents, nunneries, and the like. Men say thatthere are a score of nuns--that is, such as were nuns--who march alwayswith his company."
"Get yourself in readiness hastily, Seignior Durward," said Isabelle,interrupting this detail, "since to your faith I must needs commitmyself."
No sooner had the Syndic and Quentin left the room than Isabelle began
to ask of Gertrude various questions concerning the roads, and so forth,with such clearness of spirit and pertinence, that the latter couldnot help exclaiming, "Lady, I wonder at you!--I have heard of masculinefirmness, but yours appears to me more than belongs to humanity."
"Necessity," answered the Countess,--"necessity, my friend, is themother of courage, as of invention. No long time since, I might havefainted when I saw a drop of blood shed from a trifling cut--I havesince seen life blood flow around me, I may say, in waves, yet I haveretained my senses and my self possession.--Do not think it was an easytask," she added, laying on Gertrude's arm a trembling hand, althoughshe still spoke with a firm voice, "the little world within me is likea garrison besieged by a thousand foes, whom nothing but the mostdetermined resolution can keep from storming it on every hand, and atevery moment. Were my situation one whit less perilous than it is--wereI not sensible that my only chance to escape a fate more horrible thandeath is to retain my recollection and self possession--Gertrude,I would at this moment throw myself into your arms, and relieve mybursting bosom by such a transport of tears and agony of terror as neverrushed from a breaking heart."
"Do not do so, lady!" said the sympathizing Fleming, "take courage, tellyour beads, throw yourself on the care of Heaven, and surely, ifever Heaven sent a deliverer to one ready to perish, that bold andadventurous young gentleman must be designed for yours. There is one,too," she added, blushing deeply, "in whom I have some interest. Saynothing to my father, but I have ordered my bachelor, Hans Glover, towait for you at the eastern gate, and never to see my face more, unlesshe brings word that he has guided you safe from the territory."
To kiss her tenderly was the only way in which the young Countesscould express her thanks to the frank and kind hearted city maiden, whoreturned the embrace affectionately, and added, with a smile, "Nay, iftwo maidens and their devoted bachelors cannot succeed in a disguise andan escape, the world is changed from what I am told it wont to be."
A part of this speech again called the colour into the Countess'spale cheeks, which was not lessened by Quentin's sudden appearance. Heentered completely attired as a Flemish boor of the better class, in theholyday suit of Peter, who expressed his interest in the young Scot bythe readiness with which he parted with it for his use, and swore, atthe same time, that, were he to be curried and tugged worse thanever was bullock's hide, they should make nothing out of him, to thebetraying of the young folks. Two stout horses had been provided bythe activity of Mother Mabel, who really desired the Countess and herattendant no harm, so that she could make her own house and family clearof the dangers which might attend upon harbouring them. She beheld themmount and go off with great satisfaction, after telling them that theywould find their way to the east gate by keeping their eye on Peter, whowas to walk in that direction as their guide, but without holding anyvisible communication with them. The instant her guests had departed,Mother Mabel took the opportunity to read a long practical lectureto Trudchen upon the folly of reading romances, whereby the flauntingladies of the Court were grown so bold and venturous, that, instead ofapplying to learn some honest housewifery, they must ride, forsooth,a-damsel erranting through the country, with no better attendant thansome idle squire, debauched page, or rake belly archer from foreignparts, to the great danger of their health, the impoverishing of theirsubstance, and the irreparable prejudice of their reputation. All thisGertrude heard in silence, and without reply, but, considering hercharacter, it might be doubted whether she derived from it the practicalinference which it was her mother's purpose to enforce. Meantime, thetravellers had gained the eastern gate of the city, traversing crowds ofpeople, who were fortunately too much busied in the political events andrumours of the hour to give any attention to a couple who had so littleto render their appearance remarkable. They passed the guards in virtueof a permission obtained for them by Pavillon, but in the name ofhis colleague Rouslaer, and they took leave of Peter Geislaer with afriendly though brief exchange of good wishes on either side.
Immediately afterwards, they were joined by a stout young man, ridinga good gray horse, who presently made himself known as Hans Glover, thebachelor of Trudchen Pavillon. He was a young fellow with a good Flemishcountenance--not, indeed, of the most intellectual cast, but arguingmore hilarity and good humour than wit, and, as the Countess could nothelp thinking, scarce worthy to be bachelor to the generous Trudchen. Heseemed, however, fully desirous to second the views which she hadformed in their favour, for, saluting them respectfully, he asked of theCountess, in Flemish, on which road she desired to be conducted.
"Guide me," said she, "towards the nearest town on the frontiers ofBrabant."
"You have then settled the end and object of your journey," saidQuentin, approaching his horse to that of Isabelle, and speaking French,which their guide did not understand.
"Surely," replied the young lady, "for, situated as I now am, it must beof no small detriment to me if I were to prolong a journey in my presentcircumstances, even though the termination should be a rigorous prison."
"A prison," said Quentin.
"Yes, my friend, a prison, but I will take care that you shall not shareit."
"Do not talk--do not think of me," said Quentin. "Saw I you but safe, myown concerns are little worth minding."
"Do not speak so loud," said the Lady Isabelle, "you will surprise ourguide--you see he has already rode on before us,"--for, in truth, thegood natured Fleming, doing as he desired to be done by, had removedfrom them the constraint of a third person, upon Quentin's first motiontowards the lady.
"Yes," she continued, when she noticed they were free from observation,"to you, my friend, my protector--why should I be ashamed to call youwhat Heaven has made you to me?--to you it is my duty to say that myresolution is taken to return to my native country, and to throw myselfon the mercy of the Duke of Burgundy. It was mistaken, though well meantadvice, which induced me ever to withdraw from his protection, and placemyself under that of the crafty and false Louis of France."
"And you resolve to become the bride, then, of the Count of Campobasso,the unworthy favourite of Charles?"
Thus spoke Quentin, with a voice in which internal agony struggledwith his desire to assume an indifferent tone, like that of the poorcondemned criminal, when, affecting a firmness which he is far fromfeeling, he asks if the death warrant be arrived.
"No, Durward, no," said the Lady Isabelle, sitting up erect in hersaddle, "to that hated condition all Burgundy's power shall not sinka daughter of the House of Croye. Burgundy may seize on my lands andfiefs, he may imprison my person in a convent, but that is the worst Ihave to expect, and worse than that I will endure ere I give my hand toCampobasso."
"The worst?" said Quentin, "and what worse can there be than plunder andimprisonment?--Oh, think, while you have God's free air around you,and one by your side who will hazard life to conduct you to England,to Germany, even to Scotland, in all of which you shall find generousprotectors.--Oh, while this is the case, do not resolve so rashly toabandon the means of liberty, the best gift that Heaven gives!--Oh, wellsang a poet of my own land--
"Ah, freedom is a noble thing-- Freedom makes men to have liking-- Freedom the zest to pleasure gives-- He lives at ease who freely lives. Grief, sickness, poortith [poverty], want, are all Summ'd up within the name of thrall."
[from Barbour's Bruce]
She listened with a melancholy smile to her guide's tirade in praise ofliberty, and then answered, after a moment's pause. "Freedom is for manalone--woman must ever seek a protector, since nature made her incapableto defend herself. And where am I to find one?--In that voluptuaryEdward of England--in the inebriated Wenceslaus of Germany--inScotland?--Ah, Durward, were I your sister, and could you promise meshelter in some of those mountain glens which you love to describewhere, for charity, or for the few jewels I have preserved, I might leadan unharrassed life, and forget the lot I was born to--could you promiseme the protection of some honoured matron of t
he land--of some baronwhose heart was as true as his sword--that were indeed a prospect, forwhich it were worth the risk of farther censure to wander farther andwider."
There was a faltering tenderness of voice with which the CountessIsabelle made this admission that at once filled Quentin with asensation of joy, and cut him to the very heart. He hesitated a momentere he made an answer, hastily reviewing in his mind the possibilitythere might be that he could procure her shelter in Scotland, but themelancholy truth rushed on him that it would be alike base and cruelto point out to her a course which he had not the most distant power ormeans to render safe.
"Lady," he said at last, "I should act foully against my honour and oathof chivalry, did I suffer you to ground any plan upon the thoughts thatI have the power in Scotland to afford you other protection than thatof the poor arm which is now by your side. I scarce know that my bloodflows in the veins of an individual who now lives in my native land. TheKnight of Innerquharity stormed our Castle at midnight, and cut off allthat belonged to my name. Were I again in Scotland, our feudal enemiesare numerous and powerful, I single and weak, and even had the King adesire to do me justice, he dared not, for the sake of redressing thewrongs of a poor individual, provoke a chief who rides with five hundredhorse."
"Alas!" said the Countess, "there is then no corner of the world safefrom oppression, since it rages as unrestrained amongst those wildhills which afford so few objects to covet as in our rich and abundantlowlands!"
"It is a sad truth, and I dare not deny it," said the Scot, "that forlittle more than the pleasure of revenge, and the lust of bloodshed, ourhostile clans do the work of executioners on each other, and Ogilviesand the like act the same scenes in Scotland as De la Marck and hisrobbers do in this country."
"No more of Scotland, then," said Isabelle, with a tone of indifference,either real or affected--"no more of Scotland,--which indeed I mentionedbut in jest, to see if you really dared to recommend to me, as a placeof rest, the most distracted kingdom in Europe. It was but a trial ofyour sincerity, which I rejoice to see may be relied on, even when yourpartialities are most strongly excited. So, once more, I will think ofno other protection than can be afforded by the first honourable baronholding of Duke Charles, to whom I am determined to render myself."
"And why not rather betake yourself to your own estates, and to your ownstrong castle, as you designed when at Tours?" said Quentin. "Whynot call around you the vassals of your father, and make treaty withBurgundy, rather than surrender yourself to him? Surely there must bemany a bold heart that would fight in your cause, and I know at least ofone who would willingly lay down his life to give example."
"Alas," said the Countess, "that scheme, the suggestion of the craftyLouis, and, like all which he ever suggested, designed more for hisadvantage than for mine, has become practicable, since it was betrayedto Burgundy by the double traitor Zamet Hayraddin. My kinsman was thenimprisoned, and my houses garrisoned. Any attempt of mine would butexpose my dependents to the vengeance of Duke Charles, and why should Ioccasion more bloodshed than has already taken place on so worthless anaccount? No. I will submit myself to my Sovereign as a dutiful vassal,in all which shall leave my personal freedom of choice uninfringed,the rather that I trust my kinswoman, the Countess Hameline, who firstcounselled, and indeed urged my flight, has already taken this wise andhonourable step."
"Your kinswoman!" repeated Quentin, awakened to recollections to whichthe young Countess was a stranger, and which the rapid succession ofperilous and stirring events had, as matters of nearer concern, in factbanished from his memory.
"Ay--my aunt--the Countess Hameline of Croye--know you aught of her?"said the Countess Isabelle. "I trust she is now under the protection ofthe Burgundian banner. You are silent. Know you aught of her?"
The last question, urged in a tone of the most anxious inquiry, obligedQuentin to give some account of what he knew of the Countess's fate.He mentioned that he had been summoned to attend her in a flight fromLiege, which he had no doubt the Lady Isabelle would be partaker in--hementioned the discovery that had been made after they had gained theforest--and finally, he told his own return to the castle, and thecircumstances in which he found it. But he said nothing of the viewswith which it was plain the Lady Hameline had left the Castle ofSchonwaldt, and as little about the floating report of her having falleninto the hands of William de la Marck. Delicacy prevented his evenhinting at the one, and regard for the feelings of his companion at amoment when strength and exertion were most demanded of her, preventedhim from alluding to the latter, which had, besides, only reached him asa mere rumour.
This tale, though abridged of those important particulars, made a strongimpression on the Countess Isabelle, who, after riding some time insilence, said at last, with a tone of cold displeasure, "And so youabandoned my unfortunate relative in a wild forest, at the mercy of avile Bohemian and a traitorous waiting woman?--Poor kinswoman, thou wertwont to praise this youth's good faith!"
"Had I not done so, madam." said Quentin, not unreasonably offended atthe turn thus given to his gallantry, "what had been the fate of oneto whose service I was far more devotedly bound? Had I not left theCountess Hameline of Croye to the charge of those whom she had herselfselected as counsellors and advisers, the Countess Isabelle had been erenow the bride of William de la Marck, the Wild Boar of Ardennes."
"You are right," said the Countess Isabelle, in her usual manner, "andI, who have the advantage of your unhesitating devotion, have done youfoul and ungrateful wrong. But oh, my unhappy kinswoman! and the wretchMarthon, who enjoyed so much of her confidence, and deserved it solittle--it was she that introduced to my kinswoman the wretchedZamet and Hayraddin Maugrabin, who, by their pretended knowledge ofsoothsaying and astrology, obtained a great ascendancy over her mind, itwas she who, strengthening their predictions, encouraged her in--I knownot what to call them--delusions concerning matches and lovers, whichmy kinswoman's age rendered ungraceful and improbable. I doubt not that,from the beginning, we had been surrounded by these snares by Louis ofFrance, in order to determine us to take refuge at his Court, or ratherto put ourselves into his power, after which rash act on our part,how unkingly, unknightly, ignobly, ungentlemanlike, he hath conductedhimself towards us, you, Quentin Durward, can bear witness. But, alas!my kinswoman--what think you will be her fate?"
Endeavouring to inspire hopes which he scarce felt, Durward answeredthat the avarice of these people was stronger than any other passion,that Marthon, even when he left them, seemed to act rather as the LadyHameline's protectress, and in fine, that it was difficult to conceiveany object these wretches could accomplish by the ill usage or murderof the Countess, whereas they might be gainers by treating her well, andputting her to ransom.
To lead the Countess Isabelle's thoughts from this melancholy subject,Quentin frankly told her the treachery of the Maugrabin, which he haddiscovered in the night quarter near Namur, and which appeared theresult of an agreement betwixt the King and William de la Marck.Isabelle shuddered with horror, and then recovering herself said, "I amashamed, and I have sinned in permitting myself so far to doubt ofthe saints' protection, as for an instant to have deemed possible theaccomplishment of a scheme so utterly cruel, base, and dishonourable,while there are pitying eyes in Heaven to look down on human miseries.It is not a thing to be thought of with fear or abhorrence, but to berejected as such a piece of incredible treachery and villainy, as itwere atheism to believe could ever be successful. But I now see plainlywhy that hypocritical Marthon often seemed to foster every seed of pettyjealousy or discontent betwixt my poor kinswoman and myself, whilst shealways mixed with flattery, addressed to the individual who was present,whatever could prejudice her against her absent kinswoman. Yet neverdid I dream she could have proceeded so far as to have caused myonce affectionate kinswoman to have left me behind in the perils ofSchonwaldt, while she made her own escape."
"Did the Lady Hameline not mention to you, then," said Quentin, "herintended flight?"
"I will excuse the Lady Hameline from intending such unkindness," saidQuentin, "for such was the agitation of the moment, and the darknessof the hour, that I believe the Lady Hameline as certainly conceivedherself accompanied by her niece, as I at the same time, deceived byMarthon's dress and demeanour, supposed I was in the company of boththe Ladies of Croye: and of her especially," he added, with a low butdetermined voice, "without whom the wealth of worlds would not havetempted me to leave."
Isabelle stooped her head forward, and seemed scarce to hear theemphasis with which Quentin had spoken. But she turned her face to himagain when he began to speak of the policy of Louis, and, it was notdifficult for them, by mutual communication, to ascertain that theBohemian brothers, with their accomplice Marthon, had been the agents ofthat crafty monarch, although Zamet, the elder of them, with a perfidypeculiar to his race, had attempted to play a double game, and hadbeen punished accordingly. In the same humour of mutual confidence, andforgetting the singularity of their own situation, as well as the perilsof the road, the travellers pursued their journey for several hours,only stopping to refresh their horses at a retired dorff, or hamlet, towhich they were conducted by Hans Glover, who, in all other respects,as well as in leaving them much to their own freedom in conversation,conducted himself like a person of reflection and discretion.
Meantime, the artificial distinction which divided the two lovers(for such we may now term them) seemed dissolved, or removed, by thecircumstances in which they were placed, for if the Countess boasted thehigher rank, and was by birth entitled to a fortune incalculably largerthan that of the youth, whose revenue lay in his sword, it was to beconsidered that, for the present, she was as poor as he, and for hersafety, honour, and life, exclusively indebted to his presence of mind,valour, and devotion. They spoke not indeed of love, for though theyoung lady, her heart full of gratitude and confidence, might havepardoned such a declaration, yet Quentin, on whose tongue there was laida check, both by natural timidity and by the sentiments of chivalry,would have held it an unworthy abuse of her situation had he saidanything which could have the appearance of taking undue advantage ofthe opportunities which it afforded them. They spoke not then of love,but the thoughts of it were on both sides unavoidable, and thus theywere placed in that relation to each other, in which sentiments ofmutual regard are rather understood than announced, and which, with thefreedoms which it permits, and the uncertainties that attend it, oftenforms the most delightful hours of human existence, and as frequentlyleads to those which are darkened by disappointment, fickleness, and allthe pains of blighted hope and unrequited attachment.
It was two hours after noon, when the travellers were alarmed by thereport of the guide, who, with paleness and horror in his countenance,said that they were pursued by a party of De la Marck's Schwarzreiters.These soldiers, or rather banditti, were bands levied in the LowerCircles of Germany, and resembled the lanzknechts in every particular,except that the former acted as light cavalry. To maintain the name ofBlack Troopers, and to strike additional terror into their enemies, theyusually rode on black chargers, and smeared with black ointment theirarms and accoutrements, in which operation their hands and faces oftenhad their share. In morals and in ferocity these Schwarzreiters emulatedtheir pedestrian brethren the Lanzknechts.
["To make their horses and boots shine, they make themselves as blackas colliers. These horsemen wear black clothes, and poor though theybe, spend no small time in brushing them. The most of them have blackhorses,... and delight to have their boots and shoes shine with blackingstuff, their hands and faces become black, and thereof they have theirforesaid name."... Fynes Morrison's Itinerary.--S.]
On looking back, and discovering along the long level road which theyhad traversed a cloud of dust advancing, with one or two of theheadmost troopers riding furiously in front of it, Quentin addressed hiscompanion: "Dearest Isabelle, I have no weapon left save my sword, butsince I cannot fight for you, I will fly with you. Could we gain yonderwood that is before us ere they come up, we may easily find means toescape."
"So be it, my only friend," said Isabelle, pressing her horse to thegallop, "and thou, good fellow," she added, addressing Hans Glover, "getthee off to another road, and do not stay to partake our misfortune anddanger."
The honest Fleming shook his head, and answered her generousexhortation, with Nein, nein! das geht nicht [no, no! that must not be],and continued to attend them, all three riding toward the shelter of thewood as fast as their jaded horses could go, pursued, at the same time,by the Schwarzreiters, who increased their pace when they saw them fly.But notwithstanding the fatigue of the horses, still the fugitivesbeing unarmed, and riding lighter in consequence, had considerably theadvantage of the pursuers, and were within about a quarter of a mileof the wood, when a body of men at arms, under a knight's pennon, wasdiscovered advancing from the cover, so as to intercept their flight.
"They have bright armour," said Isabelle, "they must be Burgundians. Bethey who they will, we must yield to them, rather than to the lawlessmiscreants who pursue us."
A moment after, she exclaimed, looking on the pennon, "I know the clovenheart which it displays! It is the banner of the Count of Crevecoeur, anoble Burgundian--to him I will surrender myself."
Quentin Durward sighed, but what other alternative remained, and howhappy would he have been but an instant before, to have been certainof the escape of Isabelle, even under worse terms? They soon joined theband of Crevecoeur, and the Countess demanded to speak to the leader,who had halted his party till he should reconnoitre the Black Troopers,and as he gazed on her with doubt and uncertainty, she said, "NobleCount--Isabelle of Croye, the daughter of your old companion in arms,Count Reinold of Croye, renders herself, and asks protection from yourvalour for her and hers."
"Thou shalt have it, fair kinswoman, were it against a host--alwaysexcepting my liege lord, of Burgundy. But there is little time to talkof it. These filthy looking fiends have made a halt, as if they intendedto dispute the matter.--By Saint George of Burgundy, they have theinsolence to advance against the banner of Crevecoeur! What! will notthe knaves be ruled? Damian, my lance!--Advance banner!--Lay your spearsin the rest!--Crevecoeur to the Rescue!"
Crying his war cry, and followed by his men at arms, he galloped rapidlyforward to charge the Schwarzreiters.
