unseen, and said in a disguised tone,

"Methinks thou art but a sorry actor, to be thrown off thy guard by the
barking of a dog; if I had a tongue so little used to keep its own
counsel, I would choose a mask which it would not so readily betray."

"Thou art right, by all the saints," replied the other; "and be thou
friend or foe, I will see to whom I am indebted for this sage reproof."

So saying, he darted towards the place where the page was concealed, and
Hector, hiding his face as much as possible, bowed with an air of
profound respect before him.

"Ha! whom have we here?" he asked, surveying the page with extreme
curiosity.

"The page of my lady De la Tour;" returned Hector, his laughing eye
drooping beneath the inquisitorial gaze.

"A pretty popinjay, brought out for my lady's amusement!" said the
stranger, smiling; "you make rare sport with your antic tricks, at the
fort yonder, I doubt not, boy."

"I am but a poor substitute for my lord's lieutenant, whose mirth was as
far-famed as his courage;" returned the page, gravely.

"Thou art a saucy knave!" said the other, quickly; but instantly
checking himself, he added, "and how fares it with your lady, in the
absence of her lord?"