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Chapter 19 The City

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To any sudden act of mutiny.

JULIUS CAESAR

Separated from the Lady Isabelle, whose looks had been for so many days his loadstar, Quentin felt a strange vacancy and chillness of the heart, which he had not yet experienced in any of the vicissitudes to which his life had subjected him. No doubt the cessation of the close and unavoidable intercourse and intimacy betwixt them was the necessary consequence of the Countess's having obtained a place of settled residence, for under what pretext could she, had she meditated such an impropriety, have had a gallant young squire such as Quentin in constant attendance upon her?

But the shock of the separation was not the more welcome that it seemed unavoidable, and the proud heart of Quentin swelled at finding he was parted with like an ordinary postilion, or an escort whose duty is discharged, while his eyes sympathised so far as to drop a secret tear or two over the ruins of all those airy castles, so many of which he had employed himself in constructing during their too interesting journey. He made a manly, but, at first, a vain effort to throw off this mental dejection, and so, yielding to the feelings he could not suppress, he sat him down in one of the deep recesses formed by a window which lighted the great Gothic hall of Schonwaldt, and there mused upon his hard fortune, which had not assigned him rank or wealth sufficient to prosecute his daring suit.

Quentin tried to dispel the sadness which overhung him by dispatching Charlet, one of the valets, with letters to the court of Louis, announcing the arrival of the Ladies of Croye at Liege. At length his natural buoyancy of temper returned, much excited by the title of an old romaunt (a poetical romance) which had been just printed at Strasbourg, and which lay beside him in the window, the title of which set forth --

How the Squire of lowe degree Loved the King's daughter of Hungarie.

(An old English poem reprinted in Hazlitt's Remains of Early Popular Poetry of England.)

While he was tracing the "letters blake" of the ditty so congenial to his own situation, Quentin was interrupted by a touch on the shoulder, and, looking up, beheld the Bohemian standing by him.

Hayraddin, never a welcome sight, was odious from his late treachery, and Quentin sternly asked him why he dared take the freedom to touch a Christian and a gentleman?

"Simply," answered the Bohemian, "because I wished to know if the Christian gentleman had lost his feeling as well as his eyes and ears. I have stood speaking to you these five minutes, and you have stared on that scrap of yellow paper, as if it were a spell to turn you into a statue, and had already wrought half its purpose."

"Well, what dost thou want? Speak, and begone!"

"I want what all men want, though few are satisfied with it," said Hayraddin, "I want my due, ten crowns of gold for guiding the, ladies hither."

"With what face darest thou ask any guerdon beyond my sparing thy worthless life?" said Durward, fiercely, "thou knowest that it was thy purpose to have betrayed them on the road."

"But I did not betray them," said Hayraddin, "if I had, I would have asked no guerdon from you or from them, but from him whom their keeping on the right hand side of the river might have benefited. The party that I have served is the party who must pay me."

"Thy guerdon perish with thee, then, traitor," said Quentin, telling out the money. "Get thee to the Boar of Ardennes, or to the devil! but keep hereafter out of my sight, lest I send thee thither before thy time."

"The Boar of Ardennes!" repeated the Bohemian, with a stronger emotion of surprise than his features usually expressed -- "it was then no vague guess -- no general suspicion -- which made you insist on changing the road? -- Can it be -- are there really in other lands arts of prophecy more sure than those of our wandering tribes? The willow tree under which we spoke could tell no tales. But no -- no -- no -- dolt that I was! -- I have it -- I have it! -- the willow by the brook near yonder convent -- I saw you look towards it as you passed it, about half a mile from yon hive of drones -- that could not indeed speak, but it might hide one who could hear! I will hold my councils in an open plain henceforth, not a bunch of thistles shall be near me for a Scot to shroud amongst. -- Ha! ha! the Scot hath beat the Zingaro at his own subtle weapons. But know, Quentin Durward, that you have foiled me to the marring of thine own fortune. -- Yes! the fortune I have told thee of, from the lines on thy hand, had been richly accomplished but for thine own obstinacy."

"By Saint. Andrew," said Quentin, "thy impudence makes me laugh in spite of myself. -- How, or in what, should thy successful villainy have been of service to me? I heard, indeed, that you did stipulate to save my life, which condition your worthy allies would speedily have forgotten, had we once come to blows -- but in what thy betrayal of these ladies could have served me, but by exposing me to death or captivity, is a matter beyond human brains to conjecture."

"No matter thinking of it, then," said Hayraddin, "for I mean still to surprise you with my gratitude. Had you kept back my hire, I should have held that we were quit, and had left you to your own foolish guidance. As it is, I remain your debtor for yonder matter on the banks of the Cher."

"Methinks I have already taken out the payment in cursing and abusing thee," said Quentin.

"Hard words, or kind ones," said the Zingaro, "are but wind, which make no weight in the balance. Had you struck me, indeed, instead of threatening --"

"I am likely enough to take out payment in that way, if you provoke me longer."

"I would not advise it," said the Zingaro, "such payment, made by a rash hand, might exceed the debt, and unhappily leave a balance on your side, which I am not one to forget or forgive. And now farewell, but not for a long space -- I go to bid adieu to the Ladies of Croye."

"Thou?" said Quentin, in astonishment -- "thou be admitted to the presence of the ladies, and here, where they are in a manner recluses under the protection of the Bishop's sister, a noble canoness? It is impossible."

"Marthon, however, waits to conduct me to their presence," said the Zingaro, with a sneer, "and I must pray your forgiveness if I leave you something abruptly."

He turned as if to depart, but instantly coming back, said, with a tone of deep and serious emphasis, "I know your hopes -- they are daring, yet not vain if I aid them. I know your fears, they should teach prudence, not timidity. Every woman may be won. A count is but a nickname, which will befit Quentin as well as the other nickname of duke befits Charles, or that of king befits Louis."

Ere Durward could reply, the Bohemian had left the hall. Quentin instantly followed, but, better acquainted than the Scot with the passages of the house, Hayraddin kept the advantage which he had gotten, and the pursuer lost sight of him as he descended a small back staircase. Still Durward followed, though without exact consciousness of his own purpose in doing so. The staircase terminated by a door opening into the alley of a garden, in which he again beheld the Zingaro hastening down a pleached walk.

On two sides, the garden was surrounded by the buildings of the castle -- a huge old pile, partly castellated, and partly resembling an ecclesiastical building, on the other two sides, the enclosure was a high embattled wall. Crossing the alleys of the garden to another part of the building, where a postern door opened behind a large massive buttress, overgrown with ivy, Hayraddin looked back, and waved his hand in a signal of an exulting farewell to his follower, who saw that in effect the postern door was opened by Marthon, and that the vile Bohemian was admitted into the precincts, as he naturally concluded, of the apartment of the Countesses of Croye. Quentin bit his lips with indignation, and blamed himself severely that he had not made the ladies sensible of the full infamy of Hayraddin's character, and acquainted with his machinations against their safety. The arrogating manner in which the Bohemian had promised to back his suit added to his anger and his disgust, and he felt as if even the hand of the Countess Isabelle would be profaned, were it possible to attain it by such patronage.

"But it is all a deception," he said, "a turn of his base, juggling artifice. He has procured access to those ladies upon some false pretence, and with some mischievous intention. It is well I have learned where they lodge. I will watch Marthon, and solicit an interview with them, were it but to place them on their guard. It is hard that I must use artifice and brook delay, when such as he have admittance openly and without scruple. They shall find, however, that though I am excluded from their presence, Isabelle's safety is the chief subject of my vigilance."

While the young lover was thus meditating, an aged gentleman of the Bishop's household approached him from the same door by which he had himself entered the garden, and made him aware, though with the greatest civility of manner, that the garden was private, and reserved only for the use of the Bishop and guests of the very highest distinction.

Quentin heard him repeat this information twice ere he put the proper construction upon it, and then starting as from a reverie, he bowed and hurried out of the garden, the official person following him all the way, and overwhelming him with formal apologies for the necessary discharge of his duty. Nay, so pertinacious was he in his attempts to remove the offence which he conceived Durward to have taken, that he offered to bestow his own company upon him, to contribute to his entertainment until Quentin, internally cursing his formal foppery, found no better way of escape, then pretending a desire of visiting the neighbouring city, and setting off thither at such a round pace as speedily subdued all desire in the gentleman usher to accompany him farther than the drawbridge. In a few minutes, Quentin was within the walls of the city of Liege, then one of the richest in Flanders, and of course in the world.

Melancholy, even love melancholy, is not so deeply seated, at least in minds of a manly and elastic character, as the soft enthusiasts who suffer under it are fond of believing. It yields to unexpected and striking impressions upon the senses, to change of place, to such scenes as create new trains of association, and to the influence of the busy hum of mankind. In a few minutes, Quentin's attention was as much engrossed by the variety of objects presented in rapid succession by the busy streets of Liege, as if there had been neither a Countess Isabelle nor a Bohemian in the world.

The lofty houses -- the stately, though narrow and gloomy streets -- the splendid display of the richest goods and most gorgeous armour in the warehouses and shops around -- the walks crowded by busy citizens of every description, passing and repassing with faces of careful importance or eager bustle -- the huge wains, which transported to and fro the subjects of export and import, the former consisting of broadcloths and serge, arms of all kinds, nails and iron work, while the latter comprehended every article of use or luxury, intended either for the consumption of an opulent city, or received in barter, and destined to be transported elsewhere -- all these objects combined to form an engrossing picture of wealth, bustle, and splendour, to which Quentin had been hitherto a stranger. He admired also the various streams and canals, drawn from and communicating with the Maes, which, traversing the city in various directions, offered to every quarter the commercial facilities of water carriage, and he failed not to hear a mass in the venerable old Church of Saint Lambert, said to have been founded in the eighth century.

It was upon leaving this place of worship that Quentin began to observe that he, who had been hitherto gazing on all around him with the eagerness of unrestrained curiosity, was himself the object of attention to several groups of substantial looking burghers, who seemed assembled to look upon him as he left the church, and amongst whom arose a buzz and whisper, which spread from one party to another, while the number of gazers continued to augment rapidly, and the eyes of each who added to it were eagerly directed to Quentin with a stare which expressed much interest and curiosity, mingled with a certain degree of respect.

At length he now formed the centre of a considerable crowd, which yet yielded before him while he continued to move forward, while those who followed or kept pace with him studiously avoided pressing on him, or impeding his motions. Yet his situation was too embarrassing to be long endured, without making some attempt to extricate himself and to obtain some explanation.

Quentin looked around him, and fixing upon a jolly, stout made, respectable man, whom, by his velvet cloak and gold chain, he concluded to be a burgher of eminence, and perhaps a magistrate, he asked him whether he saw anything particular in his appearance, to attract public attention in a degree so unusual? or whether it was the ordinary custom of the people of Liege thus to throng around strangers who chanced to visit their city?

"Surely not, good seignior," answered the burgher, "the Liegeois are neither so idly curious as to practise such a custom, nor is there anything in your dress or appearance saving that which is most welcome to this city, and which our townsmen are both delighted to see and desirous to honour."

"This sounds very polite, worthy sir," said Quentin, "but, by the Cross of Saint Andrew, I cannot even guess at your meaning."

"Your oath," answered the merchant of Liege, "as well as your accent, convinces me that we are right in our conjecture."

"By my patron Saint Quentin!" said Durward, "I am farther off from your meaning than ever."

"There again now," rejoined the Liegeois, looking, as he spoke, most provokingly, yet most civilly, politic and intelligent.

"It is surely not for us to see that which you, worthy seignior, deem it proper to conceal: But why swear by Saint Quentin, if you would not have me construe your meaning? -- We know the good Count of Saint Paul, who lies there at present, wishes well to our cause."

"On my life," said Quentin, "you are under some delusion. -- I know nothing of Saint Paul."

"Nay, we question you not," said the burgher, "although, hark ye -- I say, hark in your ear -- my name is Pavillon."

"And what is my business with that, Seignior Pavillon?" said Quentin.

"Nay, nothing -- only methinks it might satisfy you that I am trustworthy. -- Here is my colleague Rouslaer, too."

Rouslaer advanced, a corpulent dignitary, whose fair round belly, like a battering ram, "did shake the press before him," and who, whispering caution to his neighbour, said in a tone of rebuke, "You forget, good colleague, the place is too open -- the seignior will retire to your house or mine, and drink a glass of Rhenish and sugar, and then we shall hear more of our good friend and ally, whom we love with all our honest Flemish hearts."

"I have no news for any of you," said Quentin, impatiently, "I will drink no Rhenish, and I only desire of you, as men of account and respectability, to disperse this idle crowd, and allow a stranger to leave your town as quietly as he came into it."

"Nay, then, sir," said Rouslaer, "since you stand so much on your incognito, and with us, too, who are men of confidence, let me ask you roundly, wherefore wear you the badge of your company if you would remain unknown in Liege."

"What badge, and what order?" said Quentin, "you look like reverend men and grave citizens, yet, on my soul you are either mad yourselves, or desire to drive me so."

"Sapperment!" said the other burgher, "this youth would make Saint Lambert swear! Why, who wear bonnets with the Saint Andrew's cross and fleur de lys, save the Scottish Archers of King Louis's Guards?"

"And supposing I am an Archer of the Scottish Guard, why should you make a wonder of my wearing the badge of my company?" said Quentin impatiently.

"He has avowed it, he has avowed it!" said Rouslaer and Pavillon, turning to the assembled burghers in attitudes of congratulation, with waving arms, extended palms, and large round faces radiating with glee. "He hath avowed himself an Archer of Louis's Guard -- of Louis, the guardian of the liberties of Liege!"

A general shout and cry now arose from the multitude, in which were mingled the various sounds of "Long live Louis of France! Long live the Scottish Guard! Long live the valiant Archer! Our liberties, our privileges, or death! No imposts! Long live the valiant Boar of Ardennes! Down with Charles of Burgundy! and confusion to Bourbon and his bishopric!" Half stunned by the noise, which began anew in one quarter so soon as it ceased in another, rising and falling like the billows of the sea, and augmented by thousands of voices which roared in chorus from distant streets and market places, Quentin had yet time to form a conjecture concerning the meaning of the tumult, and a plan for regulating his own conduct:

He had forgotten that, after his skirmish with Orleans and Dunois, one of his comrades had, at Lord Crawford's command, replaced the morion, cloven by the sword of the latter, with one of the steel lined bonnets which formed a part of the proper and well known equipment of the Scottish Guards. That an individual of this body, which was always kept very close to Louis's person, should have appeared in the streets of a city whose civil discontents had been aggravated by the agents of that King, was naturally enough interpreted by the burghers of Liege into a determination on the part of Louis openly to assist their cause, and the apparition of an individual archer was magnified into a pledge of immediate and active support from Louis -- nay, into an assurance that his auxiliary forces were actually entering the town at one or other, though no one could distinctly tell which, of the city gates.

To remove a conviction so generally adopted, Quentin easily saw was impossible -- nay, that any attempt to undeceive men so obstinately prepossessed in their belief, would be attended with personal risk, which, in this case, he saw little use of incurring. He therefore hastily resolved to temporize, and to get free the best way he could, and this resolution he formed while they were in the act of conducting him to the Stadthouse (town house), where the notables of the town were fast assembling, in order to hear the tidings which he was presumed to have brought, and to regale him with a splendid banquet.

In spite of all his opposition, which was set down to modesty, he was on every side surrounded by the donors of popularity, the unsavoury tide of which now floated around him. His two burgomaster friends, who were Schoppen, or Syndics of the city, had made fast both his arms. Before him, Nikkel Blok, the chief of the butchers' incorporation, hastily summoned from his office in the shambles, brandished his death doing axe, yet smeared with blood and brains, with a courage and grace which brantwein (spirits) alone could inspire. Behind him came the tall, lean, rawboned, very drunk, and very patriotic figure of Claus Hammerlein, president of the mystery of the workers in iron, and followed by at least a thousand unwashed artificers of his class. Weavers, nailers, ropemakers, artisans of every degree and calling, thronged forward to join the procession from every gloomy and narrow street. Escape seemed a desperate and impossible adventure.

In this dilemma, Quentin appealed to Rouslaer, who held one arm, and to Pavillon, who had secured the other, and who were conducting him forward at the head of the ovation, of which he had so unexpectedly become the principal object. He hastily acquainted them with his having thoughtlessly adopted the bonnet of the Scottish Guard, on an accident having occurred to the headpiece in which he had proposed to travel, he regretted that, owing to this circumstance, and the sharp wit with which the Liegeois drew the natural inference of his quality, and the purpose of his visit, these things had been publicly discovered, and he intimated that, if just now conducted to the Stadthouse, he might unhappily feel himself under the necessity of communicating to the assembled notables certain matters which he was directed by the King to reserve for the private ears of his excellent gossips, Meinheers Rouslaer and Pavillon of Liege.

This last hint operated like magic on the two citizens, who were the most distinguished leaders of the insurgent burghers, and were, like all demagogues of their kind, desirous to keep everything within their own management, so far as possible. They therefore hastily agreed that Quentin should leave the town for the time, and return by night to Liege, and converse with them privately in the house of Rouslaer, near the gate opposite to Schonwaldt. Quentin hesitated not to tell them that he was at present residing in the Bishop's palace, under pretence of bearing despatches from the French Court, although his real errand was, as they had well conjectured, designed to the citizens of Liege, and this tortuous mode of conducting a communication as well as the character and rank of the person to whom it was supposed to be intrusted, was so consonant to the character of Louis, as neither to excite doubt nor surprise.

Almost immediately after this eclaircissernent (explanation) was completed, the progress of the multitude brought them opposite to the door of Pavillon's house, in one of the principal streets, but which communicated from behind with the Maes by means of a garden, as well as an extensive manufactory of tan pits, and other conveniences for dressing hides, for the patriotic burgher was a felt dresser or currier.

It was natural that Pavillon should desire to do the honours of his dwelling to the supposed envoy of Louis, and a halt before his house excited no surprise on the part of the multitude, who, on the contrary, greeted Meinheer Pavillon with a loud vivat (long live), as he ushered in his distinguished guest. Quentin speedily laid aside his remarkable bonnet for the cap of a felt maker, and flung a cloak over his other apparel. Pavillon then furnished him with a passport to pass the gates of the city, and to return by night or day as should suit his convenience, and lastly, committed him to the charge of his daughter, a fair and smiling Flemish lass, with instructions how he was to be disposed of, while he himself hastened back to his colleague to amuse their friends at the Stadthouse with the best excuses which they could invent for the disappearance of King Louis's envoy. We cannot, as the footman says in the play, recollect the exact nature of the lie which the bell wethers told the flock, but no task is so easy as that of imposing upon a multitude whose eager prejudices have more than half done the business ere the impostor has spoken a word.

The worthy burgess was no sooner gone than his plump daughter, Trudchen, with many a blush, and many a wreathed smile, which suited very prettily with lips like cherries, laughing blue eyes, and a skin transparently pure -- escorted the handsome stranger through the pleached alleys of the Sieur Pavillon's garden, down to the water side, and there saw him fairly embarked in a boat, which two stout Flemings, in their trunk hose, fur caps, and many buttoned jerkins, had got in readiness with as much haste as their low country nature would permit.

As the pretty Trudchen spoke nothing but German, Quentin -- no disparagement to his loyal affection to the Countess of Croye -- could only express his thanks by a kiss on those same cherry lips, which was very gallantly bestowed, and accepted with all modest gratitude, for gallants with a form and face like our Scottish Archer were not of everyday occurrence among the bourgeoisie of Liege (the French middle class. The term has come to mean the middle class of any country, especially those engaged in trade).

(The adventure of Quentin at Liege may be thought overstrained, yet it is extraordinary what slight circumstances will influence the public mind in a moment of doubt and uncertainty. Most readers must remember that, when the Dutch were on the point of rising against the French yoke, their zeal for liberation received a strong impulse from the landing of a person in a British volunteer uniform, whose presence, though that of a private individual, was received as a guarantee of succours from England. S.)

While the boat was rowed up the sluggish waters of the Maes, and passed the defences of the town, Quentin had time enough to reflect what account he ought to give of his adventure in Liege, when he returned to the Bishop's palace of Schonwaldt, and disdaining alike to betray any person who had reposed confidence in him, although by misapprehension, or to conceal from the hospitable Prelate the mutinous state of his capital, he resolved to confine himself to so general an account as might put the Bishop upon his guard, while it should point out no individual to his vengeance.

He was landed from the boat, within half a mile of the castle, and rewarded his rowers with a guilder, to their great satisfaction. Yet, short as was the space which divided him from Schonwaldt, the castle bell had tolled for dinner, and Quentin found, moreover, that he had approached the castle on a different side from that of the principal entrance, and that to go round would throw his arrival considerably later. He therefore made straight towards the side that was nearest to him, as he discerned that it presented an embattled wall, probably that of the little garden already noticed, with a postern opening upon the moat, and a skiff moored by the postern, which might serve, he thought, upon summons, to pass him over. As he approached, in hopes to make his entrance this way, the postern opened, a man came out, and, jumping into the boat, made his way to the farther side of the moat, and then, with a long pole, pushed the skiff back towards the place where he had embarked. As he came near, Quentin discerned that this person was the Bohemian, who, avoiding him, as was not difficult, held a different path towards Liege, and was presently out of his ken.

Here was a new subject for meditation. Had this vagabond heathen been all this while with the Ladies of Croye, and for what purpose should they so far have graced him with their presence? Tormented with this thought, Durward became doubly determined to seek an explanation with them, for the purpose at once of laying bare the treachery of Hayraddin, and announcing to them the perilous state in which their protector, the Bishop, was placed, by the mutinous state of his town of Liege.

As Quentin thus resolved, he entered the castle by the principal gate, and found that part of the family who assembled for dinner in the great hall, including the Bishop's attendant clergy, officers of the household, and strangers below the rank of the very first nobility, were already placed at their meal. A seat at the upper end of the board had, however, been reserved beside the Bishop's domestic chaplain, who welcomed the stranger with the old college jest of Sero venientibus ossa (the bones for those who come late), while he took care so to load his plate with dainties, as to take away all appearance of that tendency to reality, which, in Quentin's country, is said to render a joke either no joke, or at best an unpalatable one ("A sooth boord (true joke) is no boord," says the Scot. S.).

In vindicating himself from the suspicion of ill breeding, Quentin briefly described the tumult which had been occasioned in the city by his being discovered to belong to the Scottish Archer Guard of Louis, and endeavoured to give a ludicrous turn to the narrative by saying that he had been with difficulty extricated by a fat burgher of Liege and his pretty daughter.

But the company were too much interested in the story to taste the jest. All operations of the table were suspended while Quentin told his tale, and when he had ceased, there was a solemn pause, which was only broken by the Majordomo's saying in a low and melancholy tone, "I would to God that we saw those hundred lances of Burgundy!"

"Why should you think so deeply on it?" said Quentin. "You have many soldiers here, whose trade is arms, and your antagonists are only the rabble of a disorderly city, who will fly before the first flutter of a banner with men at arms arrayed beneath it."

"You do not know the men of Liege," said the Chaplain, "of whom it may be said, that, not even excepting those of Ghent, they are at once the fiercest and the most untameable in Europe. Twice has the Duke of Burgundy chastised them for their repeated revolts against their Bishop, and twice hath he suppressed them with much severity, abridged their privileges, taken away their banners, and established rights and claims to himself which were not before competent over a free city of the Empire. -- Nay, the last time he defeated them with much slaughter near Saint Tron, where Liege lost nearly six thousand men, what with the sword, what with those drowned in the flight, and thereafter, to disable them from farther mutiny, Duke Charles refused to enter at any of the gates which they had surrendered, but, beating to the ground forty cubits' breadth of their city wall, marched into Liege as a conqueror with visor closed, and lance in rest, at the head of his chivalry, by the breach which he had made. Nay, well were the Liegeois then assured, that, but for the intercession of his father, Duke Philip the Good, this Charles, then called Count of Charalois, would have given their town up to spoil. And yet, with all these fresh recollections, with their breaches unrepaired, and their arsenals scarcely supplied, the sight of an archer's bonnet is sufficient again to stir them to uproar. May God amend all! but I fear there will be bloody work between so fierce a population and so fiery a Sovereign, and I would my excellent and kind master had a see of lesser dignity and more safety, for his mitre is lined with thorns instead of ermine. This much I say to you, Seignior Stranger, to make you aware that, if your affairs detain you not at Schonwaldt, it is a place from which each man of sense should depart as speedily as possible. I apprehend that your ladies are of the same opinion, for one of the grooms who attended them on the route has been sent back by them to the Court of France with letters, which doubtless are intended to announce their going in search of a safer asylum."

善良的朋友,亲爱的朋友!

我不想煽动你们突然起来叛乱!

《儒略·凯撒》

昆丁离开了许多天当中像北斗星那样以其音容笑貌吸引着他的伊莎贝尔小姐,心中感到莫名的空虚与寒冷,这是在他一生经历过的许多变故当中从未体验过的一种感觉。在伯爵小姐获得了固定的栖身之所以后,他们之间原先那种不可避免的亲密接触自然告一段落。即使她考虑过要让昆丁这样一个年轻英俊的扈从来经常侍候她,她又能为这种难以启齿的事寻找什么借口呢?

然而,分离的痛苦并不因为它不可避免而好受一些。昆丁看到自己就像一个普通的马车夫,或完成了任务的护送人员被打发走时,他那高傲的自尊心不免受到伤害。与此同时,他的眼睛却为他在旅途中苦心建造的许多个空中楼阁的破灭而悄悄落下了一两滴怜惜的眼泪。他作出了一个勇敢的,但一开始就显得徒劳的尝试,来摆脱这种内心的沮丧情绪。在无法抑制的感情支配下,他在索恩瓦尔德的哥特式大厅里,躲在一个窗子的隐蔽处独自思忖,抱怨自己不幸的命运未能给他足够的地位和财富使他有勇气向小姐提出求婚。

昆丁打算写一封信派一个叫查尔勒特的随从送往路易的宫廷,好让国王知道两位克罗伊埃仕女已到达列日,借此驱散笼罩在心头的忧愁。这时他忽然看见他旁边的窗子上摆着一首刚在斯特拉斯堡印好的古老爱情诗,标题很吸引人,使他那天生的活泼性格不觉又回复过来。那标题写的是:

地位卑下的扈从

热恋匈牙利的公主

昆丁正仔细地读着这首小诗,感到它所写的内容很能与自己的处境产生共鸣。这时忽然有人用手触触他的肩头,打断了他的阅读。他抬起头一看,原来是那个波希米亚人站在他的身边。

海拉丁的样子从不讨人喜欢,想起他最近的奸诈,昆丁更觉得这人可恶,便厉声责问他,何以如此放肆,竟敢随意用手触摸一个信奉基督的绅士?

“简单地说吧,’哪波希米亚人回答道,“我想看看这位信奉基督的绅士是否跟失去了眼睛和耳朵一样失去了感觉,我站在这儿和你讲了五分钟的话,而你却呆呆地望着那张黄纸片,仿佛它是一张能把你变成雕像的桃符。事实上它已经产生了一半的魔力。”

“你说你想干什么?说完就给我滚蛋!”

“我要世人都要的东西,尽管很少人会对此感到满足。”海拉丁说,“我要我的酬金,要我给两位仕女带路的那十个金币。”

“我饶了你的狗命,你还有脸再要报酬?”昆丁狠狠说道,“你心里明白,你原先是打算在路上出卖她们的。”

“但我并没有出卖她们,”海拉丁说,“要是我出卖了她们,我就不会向你,或向她们要报酬,而是向那坚持要她们走河右岸,能使其得到好处的人要报酬了。付给我报酬的应该是我效过劳的人。”

“你这个奸人,愿你拿着你的酬金得不到好死!”昆丁一边给钱一边说道,“见你的‘阿登内斯野猪’,见你的魔鬼去吧!从今以后你可别让我再见到你,否则我会让你提前进地狱的。”

“‘阿登内斯野猪!’”那波希米亚人以比他往常的面部表情所表现出的更为激动的心情说道,“这么说,并不是模糊的猜测,或一般的怀疑使得你坚持要改变路线的?难道真是——难道你们苏格兰人的占卜术真比我们这流浪部落的占卜术更可靠?我们说话时所在的那棵柳树又不能告密。不——不——嘿,我真是个傻瓜!我猜到了——我猜到了!离寺院不远的溪边的那颗柳树!距那雄蜂窝大约半英里。你走过时我见你望了它一眼——固然它不能告密,但它能掩藏别人偷听!以后我得在一个开阔的平地上开秘密会,决不让附近哪怕有个蓟树丛,好让一个苏格兰人藏在那里偷听。哈!哈!苏格兰人竟用吉卜赛人自己的法宝击败了吉卜赛人。不过,昆丁·达威特,你要知道,你挫败了我,结果也断送了你自己的好运——一点不错!要不是你自己顽固,我按你的手相给你算的命本会完全兑现。”

“圣安德鲁在上,”昆丁说道,“你的厚颜无耻可真叫我忍不住想哈哈大笑。假如你的罪恶得逞,怎么能对我有好处?又能有什么样的好处?我的确听到你提出要以免我一死作为条件,但只要我们一打起来,你那些尊敬的盟友很快就会把它忘得精光。天晓得,你出卖两位仕女的结果,除开使我被杀被俘以外,实在让我无法想象还能给我什么好处。”

“那就别想这个了吧!”海拉丁说道,“反正我还打算以你意想不到的方式向你报思。要是你不给我酬金,那我就会认为我们各不亏欠,让你去磨撞了。既然你给了我酬金,那么因为你在谢尔河岸上做的那件好事,我仍然欠你的债。”

“我想既然咒骂了你,侮辱了你,你的债也就算抵消了。”昆丁说道。

“好话和坏话都不过是空气,在天平上不占分量。”那吉卜赛人说道,“要是你真打了我,而不光是吓唬我——”

“要是你继续烦我、惹我,我很可能以这种方式来抵消你的欠债。”

“那我奉劝你别这样,”那吉卜赛人说道,“你那鲁莽的手这么一打,也许就超过了我欠的债,而不幸使你反倒负了债。再说,我这人是不会忘记或宽恕这种事的。得了,再见吧,不过为时不长——我是去向两位克罗伊埃仕女告别。”

“你?”昆丁吃惊地说道,“会让你去见那两位贵妇人?你要知道,在主教姐姐这位高贵的修女保护下,她们已颇像隐士了。这根本是不可能的事。”

“你瞧,玛尔松正等着领我去见她们哩。”那吉卜赛人带着嘲弄的表情说道,“请你原谅,我走得有点唐突。”

他转过身来像是要走的样子,但马上又转回来用一种深沉而严肃的口吻强调说:“我知道你向往的是什么——这种向往固然很大胆,但只要我帮忙,还不至于落空。我也知道你害怕的是什么——但害怕只应使你谨慎,而不应使你胆怯。任何女人都是可以得到手的。既然公爵这个绰号能使查尔斯受益,国王这个绰号能使路易受益,那么伯爵这个绰号又何尝不能使昆丁受益呢?”

达威特还来不及作出反应,那波希米亚人已经走出了大厅。昆丁马上追了上去。但海拉丁要比这苏格兰人更熟悉庭院的走道,所以继续保持他所获得的领先优势。当他走下后面一道楼梯时,追赶的人便看不见他的去向了。但达威特继续追了下去,也不大清楚自己这样做的目的。楼梯尽头是一道通往园中幽径的小门。那吉卜赛人沿着一条编织植物形成的小径匆忙走了下去。

花园两旁都是城堡大楼。这是一个巨大的古老建筑群,一部分修有城谍,一部分又像是教堂,另外两边则高耸着碉堡式的墙壁。海拉丁穿过花园的幽径来到大楼的另一边,在一堵长满常春藤的大斜墙后面掩蔽着的旁门口转过头来,对追逐者得意洋洋地挥手告别。昆丁看到这旁门实际上是玛尔松打开的。他自然认为那奸狡的波希米亚人被引进了两位克罗伊埃仕女的卧室。昆丁气得咬咬嘴唇,严厉地责怪自己没有让两位仕女了解海拉丁的可耻品质,并让她们知道他原想危害她们安全的阴谋。那波希米亚人答应成全他的爱情所表现出的狂妄态度更使他感到愤怒和厌恶。他认为要是真通过这样一个“思人”与伊莎贝尔小姐成婚,那简直是对这位小姐的污辱。“这肯定是个骗局,”他说道,“是他玩的鬼把戏。他一定是制造了某种借口,怀着不良的动机设法去见两位仕女的。幸好我知道了她们的住处。我将监视玛尔松,谋求和她们见一次面,哪怕能使她们提高警惕也好。要做到这点,我就不得不使用策略,而且要等待好些时候。然而,像他这种人却可以毫无顾忌地公开进去,想起来也真叫人难受。不过,她们将看到,尽管我不能接近她们,伊莎贝尔的安全仍然是我心上主要惦念的事。”

当这年轻的恋人正这么思量着的时候,主教的一位管家从他刚走进花园的那道门向他走了过来,十分有礼地告诉他,这是个专用花园,只供主教及其贵宾使用。

昆丁听他把这话重复了两次,才弄清了他的意思。他像从梦幻中清醒过来似的向他鞠了一躬,赶忙从花园里走了出去。那管家一路上跟着他,为他不得已执行命令一再表示正式道歉。他想达威特一定很生气,便执意要消除他的怨忿,自告奋勇与他做伴,帮他解闷。最后昆丁暗自咒骂起他那无聊的纠缠,但想不出更好的摆脱办法,只好借口要参观邻近的城市,加快步子往前走,致使那贵族管家走到吊桥便无心再作奉陪。过了几分钟昆丁便来到了列日城——当时弗兰德(自然也是整个世界)最富庶的一个城市。

忧伤,甚至失恋的忧伤,至少在富于弹性、具有大丈夫气概的男人心中,并不像遭受失恋之苦的多情种所想象的那样难以消解。感官所接受的强烈而新鲜的印象、环境的改变、激发新的意识之流的各种景象,以及人群的熙熙攘攘,都能使忧伤却步。过了几分钟,列日城繁华的街道上目不暇接的种种事物已完全吸引了昆丁的注意。他仿佛觉得,这世界根本就不曾有过伊莎贝尔小姐,也不曾有过那波希米亚人。

那高大的屋宇、雄伟狭窄而阴暗的街道,那在仓库和商店里陈列着的琳琅满目的商品、华丽的铠甲;那人行道上拥挤着的各行各业的忙碌的市民,带着小心、庄重或匆匆赶路的神情来来往往,川流不息;那运送出口商品和进口商品的大车;前者载的是宽幅布。斜纹布、各式兵器、钉子和铁器,后者装的是供这富裕的城市消费,或运往别处做生意的各种日用品和奢侈品——所有这些构成了昆丁从没见过的一种富裕繁华而又吸引人的场面。他同样赞赏从马埃斯河引来,只与其相通的数不清的溪流和运河;它们纵横交错地穿过城市,给各个地区提供水运之便。他还利用机会在那据说在公元八世纪就已建成的圣·兰伯特古教堂听了一次弥撒。

当昆丁离开教堂时他才开始注意到,他这个一直在以不加掩饰的好奇心急切地瞻望周围情景的人,本身也成了一群群富商模样的市民瞩目的对象。他们似乎是特意为了在他离开教堂时争睹他一眼而聚拢来的。他们当中响起一阵嗡嗡的低语声,并很快传播开去。与此同时,观望者的人数在迅速地不断增加。新来的人都把眼睛盯在昆丁身上,那凝望的眼神表现出很大的兴趣与好奇,还掺杂着某些敬意。

最后他竟成了一个巨大的人群的中心。但当他继续往前走时,人们都赶忙给他让路。那些跟在他后面或紧追着他走的人也都小心避免挤着他或妨碍他的行动。但这种处境实在太难受,必须设法摆脱,设法获得某种解释。

昆丁向四周扫了一眼,把目光停在一个快活健壮、样子很体面的男人身上。从他穿的天鹅绒披风和戴的金链看来,他断定这人准是个显要的市民,也许还是个知事。他问他:“你看我身上是不是有什么特别之处,引起了公众的注目?要么,是不是因为把偶然前来参观的陌生人围个水泄不通,正是列日市民通常的习俗?”

“大人,当然不是,”那市民回答说,“除了市民们十分欢迎和高兴见到、乐意尊敬的东西以外,列日人不会无聊好奇到染上这种习俗的地步,而您的服装和外表,也没有什么特别之处。”

“尊敬的先生,这话听来十分有礼,”昆丁说道,“不过凭圣安德鲁的十字说,我实在猜不出您是什么意思。”

“先生,您的咒语和您的口音使我深信我们没有猜错。”那商人说道。

“凭我的保护神圣昆丁赌咒!”达威特说道,“您的话弄得我更莫名其妙。”

“您瞧,又叫我们猜中了。”那列日人再次说道,表情之聪明和策略既惹人哭笑不得,又十分彬彬有礼,“当然我们不应当打听尊敬的大人认为适宜隐藏的东西。不过,您既然不愿我们捉摸您的来意,干吗要凭圣昆丁赌咒呢?我们知道,现在驻在此地的善良的圣保罗伯爵赞助我们的事业。”

“我以生命赌咒,”昆丁说道,“你们是搞错人了。我根本不知道什么圣保罗。”

“不错,我们相信您说的,”那市民说道,“不过,您听着——我说,您耳朵好好听着——我的大名是巴维翁”

“巴维翁大人,这与我有何相干?”昆丁说道。

“没有什么。不过我想这能使您相信我是可靠的——何况还有我这位同事鲁斯拉尔。”

鲁斯拉尔走上前来。他是一位老态龙钟的贵人。他那圆圆的大肚皮像个攻城锤似的“在人群中劈开一条道路”。他对着他旁边那位贵人的耳朵讲了点什么提醒他的话,然后以一种责备的口吻说道:“我的好同事,你忘了这地方是个公开场所——最好让这位大人到你家或我家歇歇,喝杯加糖的莱茵酒,然后请他更多地给我们讲讲我们诚实的弗兰德人全心爱戴的好盟友的情况吧。”

“我没有什么消息可告诉你们二位的,”昆丁不耐烦地说道,“我也不想喝什么莱茵酒。我只想求你们两位体面而尊敬的大人驱散这群无聊的围观者,好让一个外乡人既能悄悄地进入你们的城市,也能悄悄地离开你们的城市。”

“那好吧,”鲁斯拉尔说道,“先生既然对我们这种可靠的人也要隐瞒身份,那么恕我直言,既然您不想惊动列日市民,您干吗要佩戴你们卫队的徽章?”

“什么徽章勋章的?”昆丁说道,“您看起来像个体面尊贵的市民,但凭良心说,是你自己神经失常,还是你想把我搞得神经失常?”

“老天爷!”另外那位市民说道,“这年轻人简直想气得圣兰伯特也咒骂人!要知道,除了路易王卫队的苏格兰射手,谁的帽子上还别个圣安德鲁十字和百合花徽章呢?”

“就算我是个苏格兰卫队的射手吧,我佩戴我们卫队的徽章又有什么值得大惊小怪的呢?”昆丁不耐烦地说道。

“他承认了!他承认了!”鲁斯拉尔和巴维翁同声说道。他们转过身来,面对着聚集在那儿的人群,又挥胳膊又伸手地向他们表示庆贺,两张大大的圆脸放射着喜悦的光芒。“他已经承认他是路易王卫队的射手——列日自由的保护者路易王的射手!”

这时爆发出一阵席卷人群的欢呼,其中夹杂着各种不同的口号:“法王路易万岁!”“苏格兰卫队万岁!”“勇敢的射手万岁!”“还我自由,给我权利,宁死不屈!”“不要捐税!”“勇敢的‘阿登内斯野猪’万岁!”“打倒勃艮第·查尔斯!”“波旁主教及其教廷见鬼去吧!”

这喧闹声海涛般地此伏彼起,再加上远处的街道和市场传来的千万人的齐声吼叫,使得这声音更有沸腾、增长之势。昆丁被这搞得莫名其妙,过了好一会儿才猜想出这骚动的含义,并计划该如何调整自己的行动。

原来他忘记了他与奥尔良和杜诺瓦交锋之后,他的一位伙伴按克劳福德大公的吩咐,取下他那被刀砍裂的头盔,给他戴上了一顶钢衬帽,而这种帽子正是苏格兰卫队有名的专用装备的一个组成部分。路易王身边的近卫军竟有一名成员出现在大街上,而此城已通过路易王奸细的煽动而人心鼎沸,这自然会被市民们理解为路易王已决心公开支持他们的事业。而个别射手的出现也被夸大为路易王保证要立即给他们积极支援的一种姿态,甚至被夸大为法国先头部队已从某个城门(但谁也说不清是哪个城门)进驻市内的明证。

昆丁不难看出,要消除人们普遍相信的这样一个看法简直是不可能的事。非但如此,企图使固执己见的人们认识错误还会遭致个人危险。而眼下,他觉得惹这个祸毫无好处。因此他赶快决定先应付他们,再找出一个最好的脱身之计。这个决定是在他们簇拥着他去市政厅的路上作出的。列日城的显贵们已迅速聚集在那儿,准备聆听他理应带来的好消息,并设盛宴招待,表示对他的欢迎。

他周围挤满了捧场的人,使他深深感到一种不愉快的滋味。尽管他一再反对,他们却把它说成是他的谦逊。那两位担任商会会长(相当于市长)的朋友紧握着他的一双胳膊。他前面站着的是刚从屠宰场办公室召来的屠宰公会主席尼克尔·布洛克,正以白兰地才能激发出的勇气和优美姿势挥舞着他那还沾有猪血和猪脑的屠刀。后面站着的是那高大瘦削的铁匠公会主席克劳斯·汉默莱恩——一位烂醉如泥的爱国志士。他后面至少跟着一千个面孔乌黑的铁匠兄弟。纺织工、制钉工、制绳工以及各行各业的匠人从所有阴暗狭窄的街道涌了出来,参加欢迎的行列。要想逃跑简直是毫无希望。

在这进退维谷的处境中,昆丁只好求助于各拖着他一只胳膊的鲁斯拉尔和巴维翁。他们正拉着他走在想不到竟以他为主要欢呼对象的人群前面。他急忙告诉他们,他是因为他出发时带的那顶头盔出了毛病,才无意戴上了一顶苏格兰卫队的军帽的。他很遗憾,由于这一情况,再加上机灵的列日市民推断出他的身份和此行的目的,公众已发现了这两方面的真实情况。他还暗示说,要是现在把他拉到市政厅去,他很可能被迫向聚集在那儿的权贵们说出某些国王交待他只能向他最好的朋友——列日的鲁斯拉尔和巴维翁阁下私下面谈的要事。

后面这个暗示在这两位市民身上真是发挥了魔术般的作用,因为他们都是反叛的市民们最杰出的领袖,所以也像其他蛊惑人心的政客一样,总希望尽可能把一切都纳入他们的轨道。因此,他们马上同意昆丁暂时出城,晚上再回来。他们约他在靠近索思瓦尔德城堡对面那道城门的鲁斯拉尔家秘密会见。昆丁毫不犹豫地告诉他们,他目前住在主教的官邸,借口是法国宫廷派他来送公文,但他真正的使命,正如他们猜想的那样,是和列日市民接头。这种拐弯抹角的接头方式,再加上接头对象的地位和身份看来和路易王的性格表现十分一致,因此既没引起怀疑也没引起惊奇。

当他作出了这个解释之后,蜂拥的人群已拥着他们来到了巴维翁家的对面。他家的屋子坐落在一条大街上,后面就是马埃斯河,中间隔着一个花园和一大片鞣革工场及其他制革设施,因为我们这位具有爱国主义精神的市民本是个制革师或鞣皮匠。

既然来到他家,巴维翁自然要对这位假想的路易工特使尽东道主之谊,所以昆丁在他家门前停留并没有使群众感到惊奇。相反,当他们看到巴维翁阁下把贵客请进家时,他们都向他发出响亮的“万岁”声。昆丁马上把他那惹人注意的军帽搁在一边,而带上鞣皮匠的帽子,身上再披上一件斗篷。巴维翁给他找来了一张护照,使他既可以出城,也可以在他认为方便时,在夜晚或白天回城找他们。最后他把昆丁托付给他女儿,一个面带微笑的金发的弗兰德姑娘,交待她如何护送昆丁出城。他自己则急忙跑回去找他的同事,然后赶到市政厅,就路易王特使没有同来的原因向朋友们进行他所能想出的最好的解释。我们无法像话剧中的走卒说的那样,回忆起带头羊给自己的羊群进行解说的确切内容。要欺骗愚昧的群众是再容易不过的事,因为还没等欺骗者说话,他们自己强烈的偏见已解决了一半的问题。

那可敬的市民刚一走,他那丰满的女儿特鲁德珍便着手进行托付给她的任务。她脸上带着与她的樱桃小嘴十分相称的红晕和微笑;她有着含笑的蓝眼睛,以及白皙柔嫩的皮肤。她护送这位英俊的陌生人穿过巴维翁家花园中的幽径来到河边,亲自安排他平安地登上了一只小船。船夫是两个健壮的弗兰德人,戴着皮帽,穿着紧身裤和多钮扣的紧身衣。他们已经在他们低地人的性格所能容许的范围内尽快把船准备停当。

既然漂亮的特鲁德珍只会讲德语,昆丁——并非贬低他对克罗伊埃伯爵小姐的忠诚——只好吻吻她那樱桃小嘴来表示感谢。给予亲吻的人做得很潇洒,接受亲吻的人也充满了谦卑的感激,因为具有我们这位苏格兰射手的身材和相貌的英俊男子在列日市民中并不多见。

小船行驶在滞缓的马埃斯河上,最后穿过了城门。直到这时昆丁才有可能从容地思考,他回到索恩瓦尔德主教宫廷时,该如何汇报他在列日的经历。他既不愿出卖一个哪怕出于误解而信赖过他的人,也不想向殷勤好客的主教隐瞒他自己的首都所存在的反叛动向。所以他决定只作个一般的汇报,好使主教提高警惕,但又不谈及任何个人,以免他进行报复。

他在距城堡半英里的地方下了船,给了船夫一个盾的赏钱,使他们感到心满意足。虽然他离开索思瓦尔德时间不长,但城堡已敲钟准备开饭。昆丁发现他是朝着与正门相反的一面走向城堡的。要绕到正面会大大推迟他到达的时间。因此他直接朝靠近他的这一边走去,因为他发现这边有一道带有雉堞的墙壁,也许正是他见过的那堵小花园围墙。墙的旁侧有道门通向护城河,旁门边停着一只小船。他想,要是他打个招呼,也许这船能把他引渡过去。正当他走近护城河,打算通过这种方式进入城堡时,那旁门突然打开,有个男人走出来,跳进小船朝护城河这边划过来,然后用杆子一推把那小船推回原来的地方。当他走近时,昆丁才发现这正是那个波希米亚人。他很容易地避开了他,从另一条小道向列日走去,很快就看不见了。

现在他又碰到了一个新的思考题。如果说这个流浪的异教徒一直是呆在克罗伊埃仕女那儿,那么她们留他这么久是什么缘故呢?达威特为这个问题感到苦恼,决心找机会向她们作番解释;一方面是为了立即揭穿海拉丁的奸诈,同时也想告诉她们,由于列日城叛乱气氛很浓,给她们提供保护的主教已自身难保。

决定这样做以后,昆丁便从正门走进城堡。他看到在大厅里吃饭的一部分家臣,包括主教的侍从牧师、管家和略低于贵族等级的客人都已就座。但在主教家庭牧师旁边留有一个上座席位。那家庭牧师用一句古老的开玩笑的话Sero venientibus ossa来欢迎新来的客人。与此同时他着急地给他的碟子堆满了佳肴美食,以致把玩笑完全当了真,而在昆丁的祖国人们认为这会使得玩笑不成其为玩笑,或至多不过是个不高明的玩笑。

为了不使别人怀疑自己真是缺乏教养,昆丁简短地介绍了城里人发现他是路易王苏格兰卫队的射手之后爆发出的一场骚动。他为了竭力使自己的叙述带上一点滑稽可笑的味道,还补充说,多亏一个肥胖的列日市民及其漂亮的女儿的帮助,他才好不容易脱了身。

但在座的人对这故事都极为关心,无法领略他的玩笑。昆丁讲话时,人们都屏息静听,连饭也忘了吃。他讲完时出现了一阵沉寂。而打破这沉寂的是总管用他那低哑而伤感的声调说道:“上帝保佑,让那一百名勃艮第长矛手快些赶来吧!”

“您干吗把这事看得这么严重?”昆丁说道,“你们这儿卫士不少。他们的任务就是打仗。你们的对手只不过是一个骚动的城市里聚集的乌合之众;看见雄纠纠的武士们打着飘扬的旗幡走来,准会吓得一哄而散。”

“你不了解列日的市民,”那牧师说道,“甚至把根特的市民算在一起,他们也数得上是欧洲最凶狠、最不服管的一种人。由于他们一再反叛主教,公爵已给过他们两次惩罚。他曾两次对他们进行严酷的镇压;剥夺了他们的特权,没收了他们的旗幡,并为自己确定了以往不适用于帝国自由城市的权利和要求。上次又在圣特隆附近打败了他们,杀了他们许多人。被刀砍死的,逃跑时被淹死的列日市民将近六千之多。以后,为了使他们无法继续叛乱,查尔斯公爵又拒绝从他们交出来的任何一个城门进入市内,而是在削平一段四十腕尺长的城墙之后,脸罩面甲,手持长矛,在骑兵护卫下,摆出耀武扬威的征服者的架式通过他打开的城墙缺口进入市内。当时列日人都深信,要不是他父亲——善良的菲利普公爵说情,这位查尔斯公爵(当时称为夏荷洛伊丝伯爵)本会把他们的列日城抢个精光。然而,尽管记忆犹新,城墙缺口尚未修复,武库也尚未充实,一顶苏格兰射手的军帽已足够使他们重新骚动起来。上帝保佑啊!我担心这些凶狠的市民和那位暴躁的君主还会兵戎相见。但愿我善良而慈祥的主人能有个不像这么显要,却更为安全的教区。要知道,他戴的冠冕是以荆棘而不是以貂皮作衬垫的啊!我想奉劝这位作客的先生,要是您的差事不需要您在索恩瓦尔德久留的话,您应当意识到,这城堡可是每个头脑清醒的人都应当尽快离开的不祥之地。我担心您那两位仕女也是同样的看法,因为她们已经打发陪她们同来的一个马夫带信回法国宫廷,肯定是想告诉路易王,她们打算另觅一个较为安全的避难所。”



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