But the village of Plessis, or Plessis of the Park as it is sometimes called, from its vicinity to the royal residence, and the chase with which it is encircled, will yield you nearer and as convenient hospitality." "I thank you, kind master, for your information," said the Scot; "but my stay will be so short here, that, if I fail not in a morsel of meat, and a drink of something better than water, my necessities in Plessis, be it of the park or the pool, will be amply satisfied." "Nay," answered his companion, "I thought you had some friend to see in this quarter." "And so I have--my mother's own brother," answered Durward; "and as pretty a man, before he left the braes of Angus [hills and moors of Angus in Forfarshire, Scotland.], as ever planted brogue on heather." "What is his name ?" said the senior.

"We will inquire him out for you; for it is not safe for you to go up to the Castle, where you might be taken for a spy." "Now, by my father's hand!" said the youth, "I taken for a spy!--By Heaven, he shall brook cold iron that brands me with such a charge!--But for my uncle's name, I care not who knows it--it is Lesly.

Lesly--an honest and noble name." "And so it is, I doubt not," said the old man; "but there are three of the name in the Scottish Guard." "My uncle's name is Ludovic Lesly," said the young man.
"Of the three Leslys," answered the merchant, "two are called Ludovic." "They call my kinsman Ludovic with the Scar," said Quentin.

"Our family names are so common in a Scottish house, that, where there is no land in the case, we always give a to-name [surname]." "A nom de guerre [the war name; formerly taken by French soldiers on entering the service.

Hence a fictitious name assumed for other purposes.], I suppose you to mean," answered his companion; "and the man you speak of, we, I think, call Le Balafre, from that scar on his face--a proper man, and a good soldier.