The wily tonsor bowed, sighed, and smiled, as, with a voice even softer than ordinary, he wished the youth a good evening; and they parted, Quentin to his quarters, and Oliver to attend the King.
In this place, the Memoirs which we have chiefly followed in compiling this true history were unhappily defective; for, founded chiefly on information supplied by Quentin, they do not convey the purport of the dialogue which, in his absence, took place between the King and his secret counsellor.

Fortunately the Library of Hautlieu contains a manuscript copy of the Chronique Scandaleuse of Jean de Troyes [the Marquis de Hautlieu is the name of an imaginary character in whose library Scott declares himself to have found the memorials which form the basis of the novel of Quentin Durward], much more full than that which has been printed; to which are added several curious memoranda, which we incline to think must have been written down by Oliver himself after the death of his master, and before he had the happiness to be rewarded with the halter which he had so long merited.

From this we have been able to extract a very full account of the obscure favourite's conversation with Louis upon the present occasion, which throws a light upon the policy of that Prince, which we might otherwise have sought for in vain.
When the favourite attendant entered the Gallery of Roland, he found the King pensively seated upon the chair which his daughter had left some minutes before.

Well acquainted with his temper, he glided on with his noiseless step until he had just crossed the line of the King's sight, so as to make him aware of his presence, then shrank modestly backward and out of sight, until he should be summoned to speak or to listen.

The Monarch's first address was an unpleasant one: "So, Oliver, your fine schemes are melting like snow before the south wind!--I pray to Our Lady of Embrun that they resemble not the ice heaps of which the Switzer churls tell such stories, and come rushing down upon our heads." "I have heard with concern that all is not well, Sire," answered Oliver.
"Not well!" exclaimed the King, rising and hastily marching up and down the gallery.