"This lady," said Durward, "will call you father while we are in this place."
"And for my whole life afterwards," said the Countess, throwing herself at the citizen's feet, and clasping his knees. – "Never shall the day pass in which I will not honour you, love you, and pray for you as a daughter for a father, if you will but aid me in this fearful strait – O, be not hard-hearted! think your own daughter may kneel to a stranger, to ask him for life and honour – think of this, and give me the protection you would wish her to receive!"
"In troth," said the good citizen, much moved with her pathetic appeal – "I think, Peter, that this pretty maiden hath a touch of our Trudchen's sweet look, – I thought so from the first; and that this brisk youth here, who is so ready with his advice, is somewhat like Trudchen's bachelor – I wager a groat, Peter, that this is a true-love matter, and it is a sin not to further it."
"It were shame and sin both," said Peter, a good-natured Fleming, notwithstanding all his self-conceit; and as he spoke, he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jerkin.
"She shall be my daughter, then," said Pavillon, "well wrapped up in her black silk veil; and if there are not enough of true-hearted skinners to protect her, being the daughter of their Syndic, it were pity they should ever tug leather more. – But hark ye, – questions must be answered – How if I am asked what should my daughter make here at such an onslaught?"
"What should half the women in Liege make here when they followed us to the Castle?" said Peter; "they had no other reason, sure, but that it was just the place in the world that they should not have come to. – Our yung frau Trudchen has come a little farther than the rest – that is all."
"Admirably spoken," said Quentin: "only be bold, and take this gentleman's good counsel, noble Meinheer Pavillon, and, at no trouble to yourself, you will do the most worthy action since the days of Charlemagne. – Here, sweet lady, wrap yourself close in this veil," (for many articles of female apparel lay scattered about the apartment,) – "be but confident, and a few minutes will place you in freedom and safety. – Noble sir," he added, addressing Pavillon, "set forward."
"Hold – hold – hold a minute," said Pavillon, "my mind misgives me! – This De la Marck is a fury; a perfect boar in his nature as in his name; what if the young lady be one of those of Croye? – and what if he discover her, and be addicted to wrath?"
"And if I were one of those unfortunate women," said Isabelle, again attempting to throw herself at his feet, "could you for that reject me in this moment of despair? Oh, that I had been indeed your daughter, or the daughter of the poorest burgher!"
"Not so poor – not so poor neither, young lady – we pay as we go," said the citizen.