some farther account of that personage:
but his uncle's questions had followed fast on each other, and the summons of
the great bell of Saint Martin of Tours had broken off their conference rather
suddenly. That old man, he thought to himself, was crabbed and dogged in
appearance, sharp and scornful in language, but generous and liberal in his
actions; and such a stranger is worth a cold kinsman - »What says our old
Scottish proverb? - Better kind fremit, than fremit kindred.13 I will find out
that man, which, methinks, should be no difficult task, since he is so wealthy
as mine host bespeaks him. He will give me good advice for my governance, at
least; and if he goes to strange countries, as many such do, I know not but his
may be as adventurous a service as that of those Guards of Louis.«
    As Quentin framed this thought, a whisper from those recesses of the heart
in which lies much that the owner does not know of, or will not acknowledge
willingly, suggested that, perchance, the lady of the turret, she of the veil
and lute, might share that adventurous journey.
    As the Scottish youth made these reflections, he met two grave-looking men,
apparently citizens of Tours, whom, doffing his cap with the reverence due from
youth to age, he respectfully asked to direct him to the house of Maitre Pierre.
    »The house of whom, my fair son?« said one of the passengers.
    »Of Maitre Pierre, the great silk-merchant, who planted all the
mulberry-trees in the park yonder,« said Durward.
    »Young man,« said one of them who was nearest to him, »you have taken up an
idle trade a little too early.«
    »And have chosen wrong subjects to practise your fooleries upon,« said the
farther one, still more gruffly. »The Syndic of Tours is not accustomed to be
thus talked to by strolling jesters from foreign parts.«
    Quentin was so much surprised at the causeless offence which these two
decent-looking persons had taken at a very simple and civil question, that he
forgot to be angry at the rudeness of their reply, and stood staring after them
as they walked on with amended pace, often looking back at him, as if they were
desirous to get as soon as possible out of his reach.
    He next met a party of vine-dressers, and addressed to them the same
question; and in reply, they demanded to know whether he wanted Maitre Pierre,
the schoolmaster