"I was coming to seek for you; but I lingered here a few moments, for,
in truth, I have no fancy to approach very near those formidable guns,
unless they are more peaceably disposed than they have been to-day, and,
now I must see if you forgive my cowardice!"

With these words the cloak was hastily unloosed, and the young page of
Mad. la Tour sprang lightly from its folds. A tartan kirtle, reaching
below the knees, with trews of the same material, and a Highland bonnet,
adorned with a tuft of eagle feathers, gave him the appearance of a
Scottish youth;--but the sparkling black eyes, the clear brunette
complexion, and the jetty locks which clustered around its brow and
neck, proclaimed him the native of a warmer and brighter climate. Half
laughing, yet blushing with shame, the boy looked with arch timidity in
his lady's face, as if deprecating the expected reproof; but she smiled
affectionately on him, and said,

"I have nothing to forgive, my child; God knows this is but a poor place
for one so young and delicate as you, and I wonder not, that your
courage is sometimes tested beyond its strength. I would not wish you
to share the dangers which it is my duty to encounter."

"I should fear nothing could I really be of service to you," replied the
page, "but, to-day, for instance, I must have been sadly in your way,
and I am very sure the first cannon ball would have carried me off the
walls."

"The enemy would doubtless aim at so important a mark," said the lady,
smiling, "but go now,--your valour will never win the spurs of
knighthood."