"Fair sir," said he, laughing and shrugging his shoulders (a habit he had probably acquired from M. Rabelais), "you forget yourself."
"Wherefore, forsooth? Are they so high in rank above a landed baron?"
"In Scotland few are higher."
"Do not say these discouraging things, but tell me their names; for the hundredth time I implore you."
"I dare not."
"If I used threats, what would you say?"
"As my friend Rabelais said to a French knight at Lyons, when similarly threatened."
"And what said your devil of a Rabelais?"
"That threats ill became a sick man, when used to his friend; and worse still from one of your junior years, to a man in whose beard so few black hairs can be reckoned as in mine."
"Most true—forgive me; but when once free of this house, I shall soon solve the mystery. A woman so lovely as the younger lady must be well known, and must have many lovers."