, as the turret
projected considerably from the principal line of the building, not only
commanded a very pretty garden, of some extent, belonging to the inn, but
overlooked, beyond its boundary, a pleasant grove of those very mulberry-trees,
which Maitre Pierre was said to have planted for the support of the silk-worm.
Besides, turning the eye from these more remote objects, and looking straight
along the wall, the turret of Quentin was opposite to another turret, and the
little window at which he stood commanded a similar little window, in a
corresponding projection of the building. Now, it would be difficult for a man
twenty years older than Quentin, to say why this locality interested him more
than either the pleasant garden or the grove of mulberry-trees; for, alas! eyes
which have been used for forty years and upwards, look with indifference on
little turret-windows, though the lattice be half open to admit the air, while
the shutter is half closed to exclude the sun, or perhaps a too curious eye -
nay, even though there hang on the one side of the casement a lute, partly
mantled by a light veil of sea-green silk. But, at Durward's happy age, such
accidents, as a painter would call them, form sufficient foundation for a
hundred airy visions and mysterious conjectures, at recollection of which the
full-grown man smiles while he sighs, and sighs while he smiles.
    As it may be supposed that our friend Quentin wished to learn a little more
of his fair neighbour, the owner of the lute and veil, - as it may be supposed
he was at least interested to know whether she might not prove the same whom he
had seen in humble attendance on Maitre Pierre, it must of course be understood,
that he did not produce a broad staring visage and person in full front of his
own casement. Durward knew better the art of bird-catching; and it was to his
keeping his person skilfully withdrawn on one side of his window, while he
peeped through the lattice, that he owed the pleasure of seeing a white, round,
beautiful arm, take down the instrument, and that his ears had presently after
their share in the reward of his dexterous management.
    The maid of the little turret, of the veil, and of the lute, sung exactly
such an air as we are accustomed to suppose flowed from the lips of the
high-born dames of chivalry, when knights and troubadours listened and
languished. The words had neither so much sense, wit, or fancy,