order of proceeding, and what cooperation was expected from him. His
presence occasioned a sort of council of war to be held, of which
Charles might not otherwise have dreamed.

It was then that Quentin Durward prayed earnestly to be admitted, as
having something of importance to deliver to the two Princes. This was
obtained without much difficulty, and great was the astonishment of
Louis, when he heard him calmly and distinctly relate the purpose of
William de la Marck to make a sally upon the camp of the besiegers,
under the dress and banners of the French. Louis would probably have
been much better pleased to have had such important news communicated
in private, but as the whole story had been publicly told in presence
of the Duke of Burgundy, he only observed, that, whether true or false,
such a report concerned them most materially.

"Not a whit!--not a whit!" said the Duke carelessly. "Had there been
such a purpose as this young man announces, it had not been communicated
to me by an Archer of the Scottish Guard."

"However that may be," answered Louis, "I pray you, fair cousin, you and
your captains, to attend, that to prevent the unpleasing consequences of
such an attack, should it be made unexpectedly, I will cause my soldiers
to wear white scarfs over their armour.--Dunois, see it given out on
the instant--that is," he added, "if our brother and general approves of
it."

"I see no objection," replied the Duke, "if the chivalry of France are
willing to run the risk of having the name of the Knights of the Smock
Sleeve bestowed on them in future."

"It would be a right well adapted title, friend Charles," said Le
Glorieux, "considering that a woman is the reward of the most valiant."

"Well spoken, Sagacity," said Louis. "Cousin, good night, I will go arm
me.--By the way, what if I win the Countess with mine own hand?

"Your Majesty," said the Duke, in an altered tone of voice, "must then
become a true Fleming."

"I cannot," answered Louis, in a tone of the most sincere confidence,
"be more so than I am already, could I but bring you, my dear cousin, to
believe it."

The Duke only replied by wishing the King good night in a tone
resembling the snort of a shy horse, starting from the caress of the
rider when he is about to mount, and is soothing him to stand still.

"I could pardon all his duplicity," said the Duke to Crevecoeur, "but
cannot forgive his supposing me capable of the gross folly of being