Ivanhoe: A Romance
steward Oswald said, that if nothing occurred to renew his master’s
displeasure against him, he was sure that Cedric would pardon Gurth, a
faithful serf, and one who stood high in favour, and who had but
committed this error out of the love which he bore to Cedric’s son. And
he said, moreover, that he and his comrades, and especially Wamba the
Jester, were resolved to warn Gurth to make his escape by the way, in
case Cedric’s ire against him could not be mitigated.”
“Would to God they may keep their purpose!” said Ivanhoe; “but it seems
as if I were destined to bring ruin on whomsoever hath shown kindness
to me. My king, by whom I was honoured and distinguished, thou seest
that the brother most indebted to him is raising his arms to grasp his
crown;—my regard hath brought restraint and trouble on the fairest of
her sex;—and now my father in his mood may slay this poor bondsman but
for his love and loyal service to me!—Thou seest, maiden, what an
ill-fated wretch thou dost labour to assist; be wise, and let me go,
ere the misfortunes which track my footsteps like slot-hounds, shall
involve thee also in their pursuit.”
“Nay,” said Rebecca, “thy weakness and thy grief, Sir Knight, make thee
miscalculate the purposes of Heaven. Thou hast been restored to thy
country when it most needed the assistance of a strong hand and a true
heart, and thou hast humbled the pride of thine enemies and those of
thy king, when their horn was most highly exalted, and for the evil
which thou hast sustained, seest thou not that Heaven has raised thee a
helper and a physician, even among the most despised of the
land?—Therefore, be of good courage, and trust that thou art preserved
for some marvel which thine arm shall work before this people.
Adieu—and having taken the medicine which I shall send thee by the hand
of Reuben, compose thyself again to rest, that thou mayest be the more
able to endure the journey on the succeeding day.”
Ivanhoe was convinced by the reasoning, and obeyed the directions, of
Rebecca. The drought which Reuben administered was of a sedative and
narcotic quality, and secured the patient sound and undisturbed
slumbers. In the morning his kind physician found him entirely free
from feverish symptoms, and fit to undergo the fatigue of a journey.
He was deposited in the horse-litter which had brought him from the
lists, and every precaution taken for his travelling with ease. In one
circumstance only even the entreaties of Rebecca were unable to secure
sufficient attention to the accommodation of the wounded knight. Isaac,
like the enriched traveller of Juvenal’s tenth satire, had ever the
fear of robbery before his eyes, conscious that he would be alike
accounted fair game by the marauding Norman noble, and by the Saxon
outlaw. He therefore journeyed at a great rate, and made short halts,
and shorter repasts, so that he passed by Cedric and Athelstane who had
several hours the start of him, but who had been delayed by their
protracted feasting at the convent of Saint Withold’s. Yet such was the
virtue of Miriam’s balsam, or such the strength of Ivanhoe’s
constitution, that he did not sustain from the hurried journey that
inconvenience which his kind physician had apprehended.
In another point of view, however, the Jew’s haste proved somewhat more
than good speed. The rapidity with which he insisted on travelling,
bred several disputes between him and the party whom he had hired to
attend him as a guard. These men were Saxons, and not free by any means
from the national love of ease and good living which the Normans
stigmatized as laziness and gluttony. Reversing Shylock’s position,
they had accepted the employment in hopes of feeding upon the wealthy
Jew, and were very much displeased when they found themselves
disappointed, by the rapidity with which he insisted on their
proceeding. They remonstrated also upon the risk of damage to their
horses by these forced marches. Finally, there arose betwixt Isaac and
his satellites a deadly feud, concerning the quantity of wine and ale
to be allowed for consumption at each meal. And thus it happened, that
when the alarm of danger approached, and that which Isaac feared was
likely to come upon him, he was deserted by the discontented
mercenaries on whose protection he had relied, without using the means
necessary to secure their attachment.
In this deplorable condition the Jew, with his daughter and her wounded
patient, were found by Cedric, as has already been noticed, and soon
afterwards fell into the power of De Bracy and his confederates. Little
notice was at first taken of the horse-litter, and it might have
remained behind but for the curiosity of De Bracy, who looked into it
under the impression that it might contain the object of his
enterprise, for Rowena had not unveiled herself. But De Bracy’s
astonishment was considerable, when he discovered that the litter
contained a wounded man, who, conceiving himself to have fallen into
the power of Saxon outlaws, with whom his name might be a protection
for himself and his friends, frankly avowed himself to be Wilfred of
Ivanhoe.
The ideas of chivalrous honour, which, amidst his wildness and levity,
never utterly abandoned De Bracy, prohibited him from doing the knight
any injury in his defenceless condition, and equally interdicted his
betraying him to Front-de-Bœuf, who would have had no scruples to put
to death, under any circumstances, the rival claimant of the fief of
Ivanhoe. On the other hand, to liberate a suitor preferred by the Lady
Rowena, as the events of the tournament, and indeed Wilfred’s previous
banishment from his father’s house, had made matter of notoriety, was a
pitch far above the flight of De Bracy’s generosity. A middle course
betwixt good and evil was all which he found himself capable of
adopting, and he commanded two of his own squires to keep close by the
litter, and to suffer no one to approach it. If questioned, they were
directed by their master to say, that the empty litter of the Lady
Rowena was employed to transport one of their comrades who had been
wounded in the scuffle. On arriving at Torquilstone, while the Knight
Templar and the lord of that castle were each intent upon their own
schemes, the one on the Jew’s treasure, and the other on his daughter,
De Bracy’s squires conveyed Ivanhoe, still under the name of a wounded
comrade, to a distant apartment. This explanation was accordingly
returned by these men to Front-de-Bœuf, when he questioned them why
they did not make for the battlements upon the alarm.
“A wounded companion!” he replied in great wrath and astonishment. “No
wonder that churls and yeomen wax so presumptuous as even to lay
leaguer before castles, and that clowns and swineherds send defiances
to nobles, since men-at-arms have turned sick men’s nurses, and Free
Companions are grown keepers of dying folk’s curtains, when the castle
is about to be assailed.—To the battlements, ye loitering villains!” he
exclaimed, raising his stentorian voice till the arches around rung
again, “to the battlements, or I will splinter your bones with this
truncheon!”
The men sulkily replied, “that they desired nothing better than to go
to the battlements, providing Front-de-Bœuf would bear them out with
their master, who had commanded them to tend the dying man.”
“The dying man, knaves!” rejoined the Baron; “I promise thee we shall
all be dying men an we stand not to it the more stoutly. But I will
relieve the guard upon this caitiff companion of yours.—Here,
Urfried—hag—fiend of a Saxon witch—hearest me not?—tend me this
bedridden fellow since he must needs be tended, whilst these knaves use
their weapons.—Here be two arblasts, comrades, with windlaces and
quarrells 34—to the barbican with you, and see you drive each bolt
through a Saxon brain.”
The men, who, like most of their description, were fond of enterprise
and detested inaction, went joyfully to the scene of danger as they
were commanded, and thus the charge of Ivanhoe was transferred to
Urfried, or Ulrica. But she, whose brain was burning with remembrance
of injuries and with hopes of vengeance, was readily induced to devolve
upon Rebecca the care of her patient.
CHAPTER XXIX
Ascend the watch-tower yonder, valiant soldier,
Look on the field, and say how goes the battle.
SCHILLER’S MAID OF ORLEANS
A moment of peril is often also a moment of open-hearted kindness and
affection. We are thrown off our guard by the general agitation of our
feelings, and betray the intensity of those, which, at more tranquil
periods, our prudence at least conceals, if it cannot altogether
suppress them. In finding herself once more by the side of Ivanhoe,
Rebecca was astonished at the keen sensation of pleasure which she
experienced, even at a time when all around them both was danger, if
not despair. As she felt his pulse, and enquired after his health,
there was a softness in her touch and in her accents implying a kinder
interest than she would herself have been pleased to have voluntarily
expressed. Her voice faltered and her hand trembled, and it was only
the cold question of Ivanhoe, “Is it you, gentle maiden?” which
recalled her to herself, and reminded her the sensations which she felt
were not and could not be mutual. A sigh escaped, but it was scarce
audible; and the questions which she asked the knight concerning his
state of health were put in the tone of calm friendship. Ivanhoe
answered her hastily that he was, in point of health, as well, and
better than he could have expected—“Thanks,” he said, “dear Rebecca, to
thy helpful skill.”
“He calls me DEAR Rebecca,” said the maiden to herself, “but it is in
the cold and careless tone which ill suits the word. His war-horse—his
hunting hound, are dearer to him than the despised Jewess!”
“My mind, gentle maiden,” continued Ivanhoe, “is more disturbed by
anxiety, than my body with pain. From the speeches of those men who
were my warders just now, I learn that I am a prisoner, and, if I judge
aright of the loud hoarse voice which even now dispatched them hence on
some military duty, I am in the castle of Front-de-Bœuf—If so, how will
this end, or how can I protect Rowena and my father?”
“He names not the Jew or Jewess,” said Rebecca internally; “yet what is
our portion in him, and how justly am I punished by Heaven for letting
my thoughts dwell upon him!” She hastened after this brief
self-accusation to give Ivanhoe what information she could; but it
amounted only to this, that the Templar Bois-Guilbert, and the Baron
Front-de-Bœuf, were commanders within the castle; that it was
beleaguered from without, but by whom she knew not. She added, that
there was a Christian priest within the castle who might be possessed
of more information.
“A Christian priest!” said the knight, joyfully; “fetch him hither,
Rebecca, if thou canst—say a sick man desires his ghostly counsel—say
what thou wilt, but bring him—something I must do or attempt, but how
can I determine until I know how matters stand without?”
Rebecca in compliance with the wishes of Ivanhoe, made that attempt to
bring Cedric into the wounded Knight’s chamber, which was defeated as
we have already seen by the interference of Urfried, who had also been
on the watch to intercept the supposed monk. Rebecca retired to
communicate to Ivanhoe the result of her errand.
They had not much leisure to regret the failure of this source of
intelligence, or to contrive by what means it might be supplied; for
the noise within the castle, occasioned by the defensive preparations
which had been considerable for some time, now increased into tenfold
bustle and clamour. The heavy, yet hasty step of the men-at-arms,
traversed the battlements or resounded on the narrow and winding