"Du bist ein comische man (thou art a droll fellow)," said the lanzknecht, "I swear."
"Not yet," said the Bohemian. "Face about, brave lanzknecht, and look to the east, else the Kings may not hear you."
The soldier took the oath in the manner prescribed, and then declared that he would be in readiness, observing the place was quite convenient, being scarce five miles from their present leaguer.
"But were it not making sure work to have a fahnlein (a regiment or company) of riders on the other road, by the left side of the inn, which might trap them if they go that way?"
The Bohemian considered a moment, and then answered. "No -- the appearance of their troops in that direction might alarm the garrison of Namur, and then they would have a doubtful fight, instead of assured success. Besides, they shall travel on the right bank of the Maes, for I can guide them which way I will, for sharp as this same Scottish mountaineer is, he hath never asked any one's advice, save mine, upon the direction of their route. Undoubtedly, I was assigned to him by an assured friend, whose word no man mistrusts till they come to know him a little."
"Hark ye, friend Hayraddin," said the soldier, "I would ask you somewhat. You and your bruder were, as you say yourself, gross sternen deuter, that is, star lookers and geister seers (seers of ghosts). Now, what henker was it made you not foresee him, your bruder Zamet, to be hanged?"
"I will tell you, Heinrick," said Hayraddin, "if I could have known my brother was such a fool as to tell the counsel of King Louis to Duke Charles of Burgundy, I could have foretold his death as sure as I can foretell fair weather in July. Louis hath both ears and hands at the Court of Burgundy, and Charles's counsellors love the chink of French gold as well as thou dost the clatter of a wine pot. -- But fare thee well, and keep appointment -- I must await my early Scot a bow shot without the gate of the den of the lazy swine yonder, else will he think me about some excursion which bodes no good to the success of his journey."
"Take a draught of comfort first," said the lanzknecht, tendering him a flask -- "but I forget, thou art beast enough to drink nothing but water, like a vile vassal of Mahound and Termagund (the name of the god of the Saracens in medieaval romances where he is linked with Mahound)."
"Thou art thyself a vassal of the wine measure and the flagon," said the Bohemian. "I marvel not that thou art only trusted with the bloodthirsty and violent part of executing what better heads have devised. -- He must drink no wine who would know the thoughts of others, or hide his own. But why preach to thee, who hast a thirst as eternal as a sand bank in Arabia?
"Fare thee well. Take my comrade Tuisco with thee -- his appearance about the monastery may breed suspicion."
The two worthies parted, after each had again pledged himself to keep the rendezvous at the Cross of the Three Kings. Quentin Durward watched until they were out of sight, and then descended from his place of concealment, his heart throbbing at the narrow escape which he and his fair charge had made -- if, indeed, it could yet be achieved -- from a deep laid plan of villainy. Afraid, on his return to the monastery, of stumbling upon Hayraddin, he made a long detour, at the expense of traversing some very rough ground, and was thus enabled to return to his asylum on a different point from that by which he left it.
On the route, he communed earnestly with himself concerning the safest plan to be pursued. He had formed the resolution, when he first heard Hayraddin avow his treachery, to put him to death so soon as the conference broke up, and his companions were at a sufficient distance, but when he heard the Bohemian express so much interest in saving his own life, he felt it would be ungrateful to execute upon him, in its rigour, the punishment his treachery had deserved. He therefore resolved to spare his life, and even, if possible, still to use his services as a guide, under such precautions as should ensure the security of the precious charge, to the preservation of which his own life was internally devoted.
But whither were they to turn? -- The Countesses of Croye could neither obtain shelter in Burgundy, from which they had fled, nor in France, from which they had been in a manner expelled. The violence of Duke Charles, in the one country, was scarcely more to be feared than the cold and tyrannical policy of King Louis in the other. After deep thought, Durward could form no better or safer plan for their security, than that, evading the ambuscade, they should take the road to Liege by the left hand of the Maes, and throw themselves, as the ladies originally designed, upon the protection of the excellent Bishop. That Prelate's will to protect them could not be doubted, and, if reinforced by this Burgundian party of men at arms, he might be considered as having the power. At any rate, if the dangers to which he was exposed from the hostility of William de la Marck, and from the troubles in the city of Liege, appeared imminent, he would still be able to protect the unfortunate ladies until they could be dispatched to Germany with a suitable escort.
To sum up this reasoning -- for when is a mental argument conducted without some reference to selfish consideration? -- Quentin imagined that the death or captivity to which King Louis had, in cold blood, consigned him, set him at liberty from his engagements to the crown of France: which, therefore, it was his determined purpose to renounce, The Bishop of Liege was likely, he concluded, to need soldiers, and he thought that, by the interposition of his fair friends, who now, especially the elder Countess, treated him with much familiarity, he might get some command, and perhaps might have the charge of conducting the Ladies of Croye to some place more safe than the neighbourhood of Liege. And, to conclude, the ladies had talked, although almost in a sort of jest, of raising the Countess's own vassals, and, as others did in those stormy times, fortifying her strong castle against all assailants whatever, they had jestingly asked Quentin whether he would accept the perilous office of their Seneschal, and, on his embracing the office with ready glee and devotion, they had, in the same spirit, permitted him to kiss both their hands on that confidential and honourable appointment. Nay, he thought that the hand of the Countess Isabelle, one of the best formed and most beautiful to which true vassal ever did such homage, trembled when his lips rested on it a moment longer than ceremony required, and that some confusion appeared on her cheek and in her eye as she withdrew it. Something might come of all this, and what brave man, at Quentin Durward's age, but would gladly have taken the thoughts which it awakened, into the considerations which were to determine his conduct?
This point settled, he had next to consider in what degree he was to use the farther guidance of the faithless Bohemian. He had renounced his first thought of killing him in the wood, and, if he took another guide, and dismissed him alive, it would be sending the traitor to the camp of William de la Marck, with intelligence of their motions. He thought of taking the Prior into his counsels, and requesting him to detain the Bohemian by force, until they should have time to reach the Bishop's castle, but, on reflection, he dared not hazard such a proposition to one who was timid both as an old man and a friar, who held the safety of his convent the most important object of his duty, and who trembled at the mention of the Wild Boar of Ardennes.
At length Durward settled a plan of operation on which he could the better reckon, as the execution rested entirely upon himself, and, in the cause in which he was engaged, he felt himself capable of everything. With a firm and bold heart, though conscious of the dangers of his situation, Quentin might be compared to one walking under a load, of the weight of which he is conscious, but which yet is not beyond his strength and power of endurance. Just as his plan was determined, he reached the convent.
Upon knocking gently at the gate, a brother, considerately stationed for that purpose by the Prior, opened it, and acquainted him that the brethren were to be engaged in the choir till daybreak, praying Heaven to forgive to the community the various scandals which had that evening taken place among them.
The worthy friar offered Quentin permission to attend their devotions, but his clothes were in such a wet condition that the young Scot was obliged to decline the opportunity, and request permission, instead, to sit by the kitchen fire, in order to his attire being dried before morning, as he was particularly desirous that the Bohemian, when they should next meet, should observe no traces of his having been abroad during the night. The friar not only granted his request, but afforded him his own company, which fell in very happily with the desire which Durward had to obtain information concerning the two routes which he had heard mentioned by the Bohemian in his conversation with the lanzknecht. The friar, entrusted upon many occasions with the business of the convent abroad, was the person in the fraternity best qualified to afford him the information he requested, but observed that, as true pilgrims, it became the duty of the ladies whom Quentin escorted, to take the road on the right side of the Maes, by the Cross of the Kings, where the blessed relics of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar (as the Catholic Church has named the eastern Magi who came to Bethlehem with their offerings) had rested as they were transported to Cologne, and on which spot they had wrought many miracles.
Quentin replied that the ladies were determined to observe all the holy stations with the utmost punctuality, and would certainly visit that of the Cross, either in going to or from Cologne, but they had heard reports that the road by the right side of the river was at present rendered unsafe by the soldiers of the ferocious William de la Marck.
"Now may Heaven forbid," said Father Francis, "that the Wild Boar of Ardennes should again make his lair so near us! -- Nevertheless, the broad Maes will be a good barrier betwixt us, even should it so chance."
"But it will be no barrier between my ladies and the marauder, should we cross the river, and travel on the right," answered the Scot.
"Heaven will protect its own, young man," said the friar, "for it were hard to think that the Kings of yonder blessed city of Cologne, who will not endure that a Jew or infidel should even enter within the walls of their town, could be oblivious enough to permit their worshippers, coming to their shrine as true pilgrims, to be plundered and misused by such a miscreant dog as this Boar of Ardennes, who is worse than a whole desert of Saracen heathens, and all the ten tribes of Israel to boot."
Whatever reliance Quentin, as a sincere Catholic, was bound to rest upon the special protection of Melchior, Caspar, and Balthasar, he could not but recollect that the pilgrim habits of the ladies being assumed out of mere earthly policy, he and his charge could scarcely expect their countenance on the present occasion, and therefore resolved, as far as possible, to avoid placing the ladies in any predicament where miraculous interposition might be necessary, whilst, in the simplicity of his good faith, he himself vowed a pilgrimage to the Three Kings of Cologne in his own proper person, provided the simulate design of those over whose safety he was now watching, should be permitted by those reasonable and royal, as well as sainted personages, to attain the desired effect.
That he might enter into this obligation with all solemnity, he requested the friar to show him into one of the various chapels which opened from the main body of the church of the convent, where, upon his knees, and with sincere devotion, he ratified the vow which he had made internally. The distant sound of the choir, the solemnity of the deep and dead hour which he had chosen for this act of devotion, the effect of the glimmering lamp with which the little Gothic building was illuminated -- all contributed to throw Quentin's mind into the state when it most readily acknowledges its human frailty, and seeks that supernatural aid and protection which, in every worship, must be connected with repentance for past sins and resolutions of future amendment. That the object of his devotion was misplaced, was not the fault of Quentin, and, its purpose being sincere, we can scarce suppose it unacceptable to the only true Deity, who regards the motives, and not the forms of prayer, and in whose eyes the sincere devotion of a heathen is more estimable than the specious hypocrisy of a Pharisee.
Having commended himself and his helpless companions to the Saints, and to the keeping of Providence, Quentin at length retired to rest, leaving the friar much edified by the depth and sincerity of his devotion.
你是说那粗鲁的护林兵？那被识破了的奸细？
你可别去碰他，
你斗不过这样一些乡下佬。
本•约翰《罗宾汉的故事》
昆丁冲出寺院时，发现那波希米亚人正在飞快地向远处跑去，还可以在月色底下老远看见他那黑色的人影以挨了抽打的野狗般的奔跑速度迅猛地穿过村庄的街道，又越过更远处的一片平坦的草地。
“我这伙计跑得很快，”昆丁寻思道，“不过他还得跑得更快些，才能躲过在格兰一呼拉金的石南地上奔跑过的最快的飞毛腿。”
这位苏格兰山地人幸好没披斗篷，没戴铠甲，所以他能以在家乡的山谷里堪称冠军的速度向前奔去。尽管那波希米亚人也跑得很快，但昆丁仍能很快赶上他。然而，赶上他并不是他的目的。他认为更重要的是监视海拉丁的行动，而不是阻止他的行动。看到那波希米亚人正按他预定的路线坚持不停地跑下去，他就感到更有这个必要，因为在被强行驱逐出寺院的激动消失以后，他还继续向前跑，似乎说明他这种快跑别有目的，而不像是半夜时分被别人从一个好的住处突然赶出来，只得另觅住处的样子。他甚至不回头望望。正因为如此，达威特才有可能悄悄跟在他后面不被觉察。最后，那波希米亚人越过草地，来到一条两旁栽有梢木树和柳树的小溪边。昆丁看见他停了下来，轻轻吹了一声号角，接着便听见不远处有人吹口哨向他回应。
“这是约好的，”昆丁想到，“我要不要走近些，听听他们讲些什么呢？我得小心，否则脚步声和穿过树枝时的瑟瑟声就会暴露我自己。圣安德鲁在上，我得把他们当作格兰一依斯拉的糜鹿那样来靠近他们——要让他们知道，我并没有白白掌握森林知识。那是两个人影碰在一起。这么说，他们有两个人——要是我被发现，而他们很可能意图不良的话，那我就倒霉了，伊莎贝尔伯爵小姐就将失去她可怜的朋友了！得，要是我不能为了她而准备好对付一打子敌人，那我也配不上称作她的朋友。我不是已经和法国最优秀的骑士杜诺瓦交过锋了吗？难道我还怕一两个流浪汉不成？呸！上帝和圣安德鲁助我的话，他们会发现我这个人既勇敢又机警。”
下定决心之后，我们的朋友便带着惯于在森林中生活而获得的某种警觉踏进小溪。小溪水深不一，有时刚没过脚背，有时深及双膝。他偷偷地向前走去，身子藏在岸边的垂柳中，脚步声则被那潺潺的水声掩盖住。（过去我们自己也以这种方式接近醒着的老鸦，去掏它的窝。）年轻的苏格兰人就这样悄悄向他们走去，直到他清晰地听见他要监视的对象的说话声。但他还听不清他们所讲的话。他正好是站在一株大的柳树几乎拂着水面的树枝底下。于是他抓住一根粗枝，运用他的敏捷、灵巧和气力，借助树枝一下子爬上了大树，坐在树枝中央，毫无被发现之虞。
从他坐着的这个位置，他发现和海拉丁谈话的是他自己部落的人。但他也失望地发现，他简直没法听懂使他一窍不通的语言。他们一阵阵地大笑。当海拉丁做了一个跳跳蹦蹦的姿势，最后又用手揉揉肩头时，达威特猜想，他准是在讲述他逃出寺院前挨打的故事。
这时，远处又忽然传来一声口哨。海拉丁仍用号角轻轻地回应了他一两声。不久就看见一个身材魁梧强壮，样子颇像武士的人走了过来。他那发达的肌键和波希米亚人细小的四肢形成了强烈的对比。他肩上斜披着一条宽大的缎带，上面挂着一把剑，几乎横在他身子前面。他的裤子饰有许多长缝。长缝底下是各色的丝绸或丝纱罗。裤子至少是用五百条缎带做的系绳与他穿的黄牛皮紧身衣系在一起。右袖上画有他们首领的徽记——一头银色的野猪。头上则神气地歪戴着一顶小帽。帽子罩着的一束束鬈发在他那宽大的面孔两侧与约有四英寸长的宽大胡须混为一体。他手上握着一根长矛。根据他的全副装备可以看出，他是一名英文称之为长矛手、德文称之为“lanzknecht”的德国冒险家。这些雇佣军构成了当时一支可畏的步兵力量；不用说，都是一些残暴贪婪的兵痞。他们当中流行着一种无聊的说法：德国长矛手因为罪恶大不能升天堂，也因其桀骛不驯的反叛性格无法进地狱。所以他们一点不怕死，仿佛他们既不向往天堂，也不在乎地狱。
“雷鸣电闪！”这是他用勉强模仿的某种夹杂法语的德语说出的第一句打招呼的话。
接着他说：“你为什么害我苦等了三个晚上呢？”
“我的先生，我没法提前和您见面，”海拉丁谦恭地说，“有个年轻的苏格兰人，眼睛敏锐得像只野猫，对我的任何行动都严密监视。他已经在怀疑我了。要是他证实了他的怀疑，他就会当场杀死我，并把那两个女人送回法国。”
“那还行！”那长矛手说道，“瞧，我们有三个人。明天我们就攻打他们，把两个女人带走。你说那两个随从都是胆小鬼。那么你和你的同伴该可以对付他们两个，我就不怕魔鬼找上我，偏要对付你那个苏格兰的野猫。”
