No More Learning

In vain Cedric [v]expostulated with his guards, who refused to break
their silence for his wrath or his protests. They continued to hurry him
along, traveling at a very rapid rate, until, at the end of an avenue of
huge trees, arose Torquilstone, the hoary and ancient castle of Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf. It was a fortress of no great size, consisting of a
donjon, or large and high square tower, surrounded by buildings of
inferior height. Around the exterior wall was a deep moat, supplied with
water from a neighboring rivulet. Front-de-Boeuf, whose character
placed him often at feud with his neighbors, had made considerable
additions to the strength of his castle by building towers upon the
outward wall, so as to flank it at every angle. The access, as usual in
castles of the period, lay through an arched [v]barbican or outwork,
which was defended by a small turret.

Cedric no sooner saw the turrets of Front-de-Boeuf's castle raise their
gray and moss-grown battlements, glimmering in the morning sun, above
the woods by which they were surrounded than he instantly augured more
truly concerning the cause of his misfortune.

"I did injustice," he said, "to the thieves and outlaws of these woods,
when I supposed such banditti to belong to their bands. I might as
justly have confounded the foxes of these brakes with the ravening
wolves of France! "

Arrived before the castle, the prisoners were compelled by their guards
to alight and were hastened across the drawbridge into the castle. They
were immediately conducted to an apartment where a hasty repast was
offered them, of which none but Athelstane felt any inclination to
partake. Neither did he have much time to do justice to the good cheer
placed before him, for the guards gave him and Cedric to understand that
they were to be imprisoned in a chamber apart from Rowena. Resistance
was vain; and they were compelled to follow to a large room, which,
rising on clumsy Saxon pillars, resembled the [v]refectories and
chapter-houses which may still be seen in the most ancient parts of our
most ancient monasteries.

The Lady Rowena was next separated from her train and conducted with
courtesy, indeed, but still without consulting her inclination, to a
distant apartment. The same alarming distinction was conferred on the
young Jewess, Rebecca, in spite of the entreaties of her father, who
offered money in the extremity of his distress that she might be
permitted to abide with him.

"Base unbeliever," answered one of his guards, "when thou hast seen thy
lair, thou wilt not wish thy daughter to partake it. "

Without further discussion, the old Jew was dragged off in a different
direction from the other prisoners. The domestics, after being searched
and disarmed, were confined in another part of the castle.

The three leaders of the banditti and the men who had planned and
carried out the outrage, Norman knights,--Front-de-Boeuf, the brutal
owner of the castle; Maurice de Bracy, a free-lance, who sought to wed
the Lady Rowena by force and so had arranged the attack, and Brian de
[v]Bois-Guilbert, a distinguished member of the famous order of
[v]Knights Templar,--had a short discussion together and then
separated. Front-de-Boeuf immediately sought the apartment where Isaac
of York tremblingly awaited his fate.

The Jew had been hastily thrown into a dungeon-vault of the castle, the
floor of which was deep beneath the level of the earth, and very damp,
being lower than the moat itself. The only light was received through
one or two loop-holes far above the reach of the captive's hand. These
[v]apertures admitted, even at midday, only a dim and uncertain light,
which was changed for utter darkness long before the rest of the castle
had lost the blessing of day. Chains and shackles, which had been the
portion of former captives, hung rusted and empty on the walls of the
prison, and in the rings of one of these sets of fetters there remained
two moldering bones which seemed those of the human leg.

At one end of this ghastly apartment was a large fire-grate, over the
top of which were stretched some transverse iron bars, half devoured
with rust.

The whole appearance of the dungeon might have appalled a stouter heart
than that of Isaac, who, nevertheless, was more composed under the
imminent pressure of danger than he had seemed to be while affected by
terrors of which the cause was as yet remote and [v]contingent. It was
not the first time that Isaac had been placed in circumstances so
dangerous. He had, therefore, experience to guide him, as well as a hope
that he might again be delivered from the peril.

The Jew remained without altering his position for nearly three hours,
at the end of which time steps were heard on the dungeon stair. The
bolts screamed as they were withdrawn, the hinges creaked as the wicket
opened, and Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, followed by two Saracen slaves of
the Templar, entered the prison.

Front-de-Boeuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had been spent in
public war or in private feuds and broils and who had hesitated at no
means of extending his [v]feudal power, had features corresponding to
his character, and which strongly expressed the fiercer and more evil
passions of the mind. The scars with which his visage was seamed would,
on features of a different cast, have excited the sympathy due to the
marks of honorable valor; but in the peculiar case of Front-de-Boeuf
they only added to the ferocity of his countenance and to the dread
which his presence inspired. The formidable baron was clad in a leathern
doublet, fitted close to his body, which was frayed and soiled with the
stains of his armor. He had no weapon, except a [v]poniard at his belt,
which served to counter-balance the weight of the bunch of rusty keys
that hung at his right side.

The black slaves who attended Front-de-Boeuf were attired in jerkins and
trousers of coarse linen, their sleeves being tucked up above the elbow,
like those of butchers when about to exercise their functions in the
slaughter-house. Each had in his hand a small [v]pannier; and when they
entered the dungeon, they paused at the door until Front-de-Boeuf
himself carefully locked and double-locked it. Having taken this
precaution, he advanced slowly up the apartment toward the Jew, upon
whom he kept his eye fixed as if he wished to paralyze him with his
glance, as some animals are said to fascinate their prey.

The Jew sat with his mouth agape and his eyes fixed on the savage baron
with such earnestness of terror that his frame seemed literally to
shrink together and diminish in size while encountering the fierce
Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. The unhappy Isaac was deprived not only
of the power of rising to make the [v]obeisance which his fear had
dictated, but he could not even doff his cap or utter any word of
supplication, so strongly was he agitated by the conviction that
tortures and death were impending over him.

On the other hand, the stately form of the Norman appeared to dilate in
magnitude, like that of the eagle, which ruffles up its plumage when
about to pounce on its defenseless prey. He paused within three steps of
the corner in which the unfortunate Hebrew had now, as it were, coiled
himself up into the smallest possible space, and made a sign for one of
the slaves to approach. The black [v]satellite came forward accordingly,
and producing from his basket a large pair of scales and several
weights, he laid them at the feet of Front-de-Boeuf and retired to the
respectful distance at which his companion had already taken his
station.

The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if there impended over
their souls some [v]preconception of horror and cruelty. Front-de-Boeuf
himself opened the scene by addressing his ill-fated captive.

"Most accursed dog," he said, awakening with his deep and sullen voice
the echoes of the dungeon vault, "seest thou these scales? "

The unhappy Jew returned a feeble affirmative.

"In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out," said the relentless
baron, "a thousand silver pounds, after the just measure and weight of
the Tower of London. "

"Holy Abraham! " returned the Jew, finding voice through the very
extremity of his danger; "heard man ever such a demand? Who ever heard,
even in a minstrel's tale, of such a sum as a thousand pounds of silver?
What human eyes were ever blessed with the sight of so great a mass of
treasure? Not within the walls of York, ransack my house and that of all
my tribe, wilt thou find the [v]tithe of that huge sum of silver that
thou speakest of. "

"I am reasonable," answered Front-de-Boeuf, "and if silver be scant, I
refuse not gold. At the rate of a mark of gold for each six pounds of
silver, thou shalt free thy unbelieving carcass from such punishment as
thy heart has never even conceived in thy wildest imaginings. "

"Have mercy on me, noble knight! " pleaded Isaac. "I am old, and poor,
and helpless. It were unworthy to triumph over me. It is a poor deed to
crush a worm. "

"Old thou mayst be," replied the knight, "and feeble thou mayst be; but
rich it is known thou art. "

"I swear to you, noble knight," said Isaac, "by all which I believe and
all which we believe in common--"

"Perjure not thyself," interrupted the Norman, "and let not thy
obstinacy seal thy doom, until thou hast seen and well considered the
fate that awaits thee. This prison is no place for trifling. Prisoners
ten thousand times more distinguished than thou have died within these
walls, and their fate has never been known. But for thee is reserved a
long and lingering death, to which theirs was luxury. "

He again made a signal for the slaves to approach and spoke to them
apart in their own language; for he had been a crusader in Palestine,
where, perhaps, he had learned his lesson of cruelty. The Saracens
produced from their baskets a quantity of charcoal, a pair of bellows,
and a flask of oil. While the one struck a light with a flint and steel,
the other disposed the charcoal in the large rusty grate which we have
already mentioned and exercised the bellows until the fuel came to a red
glow.

"Seest thou, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf, "the range of iron bars above
that glowing charcoal? On that warm couch thou shalt lie, stripped of
thy clothes as if thou wert to rest on a bed of down. One of these
slaves shall maintain the fire beneath thee, while the other shall
anoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest the roast should burn. Now
choose betwixt such a scorching bed and the payment of a thousand pounds
of silver; for, by the head of my father, thou hast no other [v]option. "

"It is impossible," exclaimed the miserable Isaac; "it is impossible
that your purpose can be real! The good God of nature never made a heart
capable of exercising such cruelty! "

"Trust not to that, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf; "it were a fatal error.
Dost thou think that I who have seen a town sacked, in which thousands
perished by sword, by flood, and by fire, will blench from my purpose
for the outcries of a single wretch? Be wise, old man; discharge thyself
of a portion of thy superfluous wealth; repay to the hands of a
Christian a part of what thou hast acquired by [v]usury. Thy cunning may
soon swell out once more thy shriveled purse, but neither leech nor
medicine can restore thy scorched hide and flesh wert thou once
stretched on these bars. Tell down thy [v]ransom, I say, and rejoice
that at such a rate thou canst redeem thyself from a dungeon, the
secrets of which few have returned to tell. I waste no more words with
thee. Choose between thy [v]dross and thy flesh and blood, and as thou
choosest so shall it be. "

"So may Abraham and all the fathers of our people assist me! " said
Isaac; "I cannot make the choice because I have not the means of
satisfying your [v]exorbitant demand! "

"Seize him and strip him, slaves," said the knight.

The assistants, taking their directions more from the baron's eye and
hand than his tongue, once more stepped forward, laid hands on the
unfortunate Isaac, plucked him up from the ground, and holding him
between them, waited the hard-hearted baron's further signal. The
unhappy man eyed their countenances and that of Front-de-Boeuf in the
hope of discovering some symptoms of softening; but that of the baron
showed the same cold, half-sullen, half-sarcastic smile, which had been
the prelude to his cruelty; and the savage eyes of the Saracens, rolling
gloomily under their dark brows, evinced rather the secret pleasure
which they expected from the approaching scene than any reluctance to be
its agents. The Jew then looked at the glowing furnace, over which he
was presently to be stretched, and, seeing no chance of his tormentor's
relenting, his resolution gave way.

"I will pay," he said, "the thousand pounds of silver--that is, I will
pay it with the help of my brethren, for I must beg as a mendicant at
the door of our synagogue ere I make up so unheard-of a sum. When and
where must it be delivered? " he inquired with a sigh.

"Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf. "Weighed it must be--weighed and told
down on this very dungeon floor. Thinkest thou I will part with thee
until thy ransom is secure? "

"Then let my daughter Rebecca go forth to York," said Isaac, "with your
safe conduct, noble knight, and so soon as man and horse can return, the
treasure--" Here he groaned deeply, but added, after the pause of a few
seconds,--"the treasure shall be told down on this floor. "

"Thy daughter! " said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised. "By Heavens,
Isaac, I would I had known of this! I gave yonder black-browed girl to
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, to be his prisoner. She is not in my power. "

The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling communication made the
very vault to ring, and astounded the two Saracens so much that they let
go their hold of the victim. He availed himself of his freedom to throw
himself on the pavement and clasp the knees of Front-de-Boeuf.

"Take all that you have asked," said he--"take ten times more--reduce me
to ruin and to beggary, if thou wilt--nay, pierce me with thy poniard,
broil me on that furnace, but spare my daughter! Will you deprive me of
my sole remaining comfort in life? "

"I would," said the Norman, somewhat relenting, "that I had known of
this before. I thought you loved nothing but your money-bags. "

"Think not so vilely of me," returned Isaac, eager to improve the moment
of apparent sympathy. "I love mine own, even as the hunted fox, the
tortured wildcat loves its young. "

"Be it so," said Front-de-Boeuf; "but it aids us not now. I cannot help
what has happened or what is to follow. My word is passed to my comrade
in arms that he shall have the maiden as his share of the spoil, and I
would not break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Take thought
instead to pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or woe betide thee! "

"Robber and villain! " cried the Jew, "I will pay thee nothing--not one
silver penny will I pay thee unless my daughter is delivered to me in
safety! "

"Art thou in thy senses, Israelite? " asked the Norman sternly. "Hast thy
flesh and blood a charm against heated iron and scalding oil? "

"I care not! " replied the Jew, rendered desperate by paternal affection;
"my daughter is my flesh and blood, dearer to me a thousand times than
those limbs thy cruelty threatens. No silver will I give thee unless I
were to pour it molten down thy [v]avaricious throat--no, not a silver
penny will I give thee, [v]Nazarene, were it to save thee from the deep
damnation thy whole life has merited. Take my life, if thou wilt, and
say that the Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint the
Christian. "

"We shall see that," said Front-de-Boeuf; "for by the blessed [v]rood
thou shalt feel the extremities of fire and steel! Strip him, slaves,
and chain him down upon the bars. "

In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the Saracens had
already torn from him his upper garment and were proceeding totally to
disrobe him, when the sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle,
penetrated even to the recesses of the dungeon. Immediately after voices
were heard calling for Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf. Unwilling to be
found engaged in his hellish occupation, the savage baron gave the
slaves a signal to restore Isaac's garment; and, quitting the dungeon
with his attendants, he left the Jew to thank God for his own
deliverance or to lament over his daughter's captivity, as his personal
or parental feelings might prove the stronger.


III

When the bugle sounded, De Bracy was engaged in pressing his suit with
the Saxon heiress Rowena, whom he had carried off under the impression
that she would speedily surrender to his rough wooing. But he found her
[v]obdurate as well as tearful and in no humor to listen to his
professions of devotion. It was, therefore, with some relief that the
free-lance heard the summons at the barbican. Going into the hall of
the castle, De Bracy was presently joined by Bois-Guilbert.

"Where is Front-de-Boeuf! " the latter asked.

"He is [v]negotiating with the Jew, I suppose," replied De Bracy,
coolly; "probably the howls of Isaac have drowned the blast of the
bugle. But we will make the [v]vassals call him. "

They were soon after joined by Front-de-Boeuf, who had only tarried to
give some necessary directions.

"Let us see the cause of this cursed clamor," he said. "Here is a letter
which has just been brought in, and, if I mistake not, it is in Saxon. "

He looked at it, turning it round and round as if he had some hopes of
coming at the meaning by inverting the position of the paper, and then
handed it to De Bracy.

"It may be magic spells for aught I know," said De Bracy, who possessed
his full proportion of the ignorance which characterized the chivalry of
the period.

"Give it to me," said the Templar. "We have that of the priestly
character that we have some knowledge to enlighten our valor. "

"Let us profit by your most reverend knowledge, then," returned De
Bracy. "What says the scroll? "

"It is a formal letter of defiance," answered Bois-Guilbert; "but, by
our Lady of Bethlehem, if it be not a foolish jest, it is the most
extraordinary [v]cartel that ever went across the drawbridge of a
baronial castle. "

"Jest! " exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf. "I would gladly know who dares jest
with me in such a matter! Read it, Sir Brian. "

The Templar accordingly read as follows:

"I, Wamba, the son of Witless, jester to a noble and free-born man,
Cedric of Rotherwood, called the Saxon: and I, Gurth, the son of
Beowulph, the swineherd--"

"Thou art mad! " cried Front-de-Boeuf, interrupting the reader.

"By Saint Luke, it is so set down," answered the Templar. Then, resuming
his task, he went on: "I, Gurth, the son of Beowulph, swineherd unto the
said Cedric, with the assistance of our allies and confederates, who
make common cause with us in this our feud, namely, the good knight,
called for the present the Black Knight, and the stout yeoman, Robert
Locksley, called Cleve-the-wand: Do you, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, and
your allies and accomplices whomsoever, to wit, that whereas you have,
without cause given or feud declared, wrongfully and by mastery, seized
upon the person of our lord and master, the said Cedric; also upon the
person of a noble and free-born damsel, the Lady Rowena; also upon the
person of a noble and free-born man, Athelstane of Coningsburgh; also
upon the persons of certain free-born men, their vassals; also upon
certain serfs, their born bondsmen; also upon a certain Jew, named
Isaac of York, together with his daughter, and certain horses and mules:
therefore, we require and demand that the said persons be within an hour
after the delivery hereof delivered to us, untouched and unharmed in
body and goods. Failing of which, we do pronounce to you that we hold ye
as robbers and traitors and will wager our bodies against ye in battle
and do our utmost to your destruction. Signed by us upon the eve of
Saint Withold's day, under the great oak in the Hart-hill Walk, the
above being written by a holy man, clerk to God and Saint Dunstan in the
chapel of Copmanhurst. "

The knights heard this uncommon document read from end to end and then
gazed upon each other in silent amazement, as being utterly at a loss to
know what it could portend. De Bracy was the first to break silence by
an uncontrollable fit of laughter, wherein he was joined, though with
more moderation, by the Templar. Front-de-Boeuf, on the contrary, seemed
impatient of their ill-timed [v]jocularity.

"I give you plain warning," he said, "fair sirs, that you had better
consult how to bear yourselves under these circumstances than to give
way to such misplaced merriment. "

"Front-de-Boeuf has not recovered his temper since his overthrow in the
tournament," said De Bracy to the Templar. "He is cowed at the very idea
of a cartel, though it be from a fool and a swineherd. "

"I would thou couldst stand the whole brunt of this adventure thyself,
De Bracy," answered Front-de-Boeuf. "These fellows dared not to have
acted with such inconceivable impudence had they not been supported by
some strong bands. There are enough outlaws in this forest to resent my
protecting the deer. I did but tie one fellow, who was taken red-handed
and in the fact, to the horns of a wild stag, which gored him to death
in five minutes, and I had as many arrows shot at me as were launched in
the tournament. Here, fellow," he added to one of his attendants, "hast
thou sent out to see by what force this precious challenge is to be
supported? "

"There are at least two hundred men assembled in the woods," answered a
squire who was in attendance.

"Here is a proper matter! " said Front-de-Boeuf. "This comes of lending
you the use of my castle. You cannot manage your undertaking quietly,
but you must bring this nest of hornets about my ears! "

"Of hornets? " echoed De Bracy. "Of stingless drones rather--a band of
lazy knaves who take to the wood and destroy the venison rather than
labor for their maintenance. "

"Stingless! " replied Front-de-Boeuf. "Fork-headed shafts of a cloth-yard
in length, and these shot within the breadth of a French crown, are
sting enough. "

"For shame, sir knight! " said the Templar. "Let us summon our people
and sally forth upon them. One knight--ay, one man-at-arms--were enough
for twenty such peasants. "

"Enough, and too much," agreed De Bracy. "I should be ashamed to couch
lance against them. "

"True," answered Front-de-Boeuf, drily, "were they black Turks or Moors,
Sir Templar, or the craven peasants of France, most valiant De Bracy;
but these are English yeomen, over whom we shall have no advantage save
what we may derive from our arms and horses, which will avail us little
in the glades of the forest. Sally, saidst thou? We have scarce men
enough to defend the castle. The best of mine are at York; so is your
band, De Bracy; and we have scarce twenty, besides the handful that were
engaged in this mad business. "

"Thou dost not fear," said the Templar, "that they can assemble in force
sufficient to attempt the castle? "

"Not so, Sir Brian," answered Front-de-Boeuf. "These outlaws have indeed
a daring captain; but without machines, scaling ladders, and experienced
leaders my castle may defy them. "

"Send to thy neighbors," suggested the Templar. "Let them assemble their
people and come to the rescue of three knights, besieged by a jester and
swineherd in the baronial castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf! "

"You jest, sir knight," answered the baron; "but to whom shall I send?
My allies are at York, where I should have also been but for this
infernal enterprise. "

"Then send to York and recall our people," said De Bracy. "If these
[v]churls abide the shaking of my standard, I will give them credit for
the boldest outlaws that ever bent bow in greenwood. "

"And who shall bear such a message? " said Front-de-Boeuf. "The knaves
will beset every path and rip the errand out of the man's bosom. I have
it," he added, after pausing for a moment. "Sir Templar, thou canst
write as well as read, and if we can but find writing materials, thou
shalt return an answer to this bold challenge. "

Paper and pen were presently brought, and Bois-Guilbert sat down and
wrote, in the French language, an epistle of the following tenor:

"Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, with his noble and knightly allies and
confederates, receives no defiances at the hands of slaves, bondsmen, or
fugitives. If the person calling himself the Black Knight hath indeed a
claim to the honors of chivalry, he ought to know that he stands
degraded by his present association and has no right to ask reckoning at
the hands of good men of noble blood.
Touching the prisoners we have
made, we do in Christian charity require you to send a man of religion
to receive their confession and reconcile them with God; since it is our
fixed intention to execute them this morning before noon, so that their
heads, being placed on the battlements, shall show to all men how
lightly we esteem those who have bestirred themselves in their rescue.
Wherefore, as above, we require you to send a priest to reconcile them
with God, in doing which you shall render them the last earthly
service. "

This letter, being folded, was delivered to the squire, and by him to
the messenger who waited without, as the answer to that which he had
brought.


IV

About one hour afterward a man arrayed in the cowl and frock of a
hermit, and having his knotted cord twisted around his middle, stood
before the portal of the castle of Front-de-Boeuf. The warder demanded
of him his name and errand.

"[v]_Pax vobiscum_," answered the priest, "I am a poor brother of the
[v]Order of St. Francis who come hither to do my office to certain
unhappy prisoners now secured within this castle. "

"Thou art a bold friar," said the warder, "to come hither, where, saving
our own drunken confessor, a rooster of thy feather hath not crowed
these twenty years. "

With these words, he carried to the hall of the castle his unwonted
intelligence that a friar stood before the gate and desired admission.
With no small wonder he received his master's command to admit the holy
man immediately; and, having previously manned the entrance to guard
against surprise, he obeyed, without farther scruple, the order given
him.

"Who and whence art thou, priest? " demanded Front-de-Boeuf.

"_Pax vobiscum_," reiterated the priest, with trembling voice. "I am a
poor servant of Saint Francis, who, traveling through this wilderness,
have fallen among thieves, which thieves have sent me unto this castle
in order to do my ghostly office on two persons condemned by your
honorable justice. "

"Ay, right," answered Front-de-Boeuf; "and canst thou tell me, the
number of those banditti? "

"Gallant sir," said the priest, "[v]_nomen illis legio_, their name is
legion. "

"Tell me in plain terms what numbers there are, or, priest, thy cloak
and cord will ill protect thee from my wrath. "

"Alas! " said the friar, "[v]_cor meum eructavit_, that is to say, I was
like to burst with fear! But I conceive they may be--what of yeomen,
what of commons--at least five hundred men. "

"What! " said the Templar, who came into the hall that moment, "muster
the wasps so thick here? It is time to stifle such a mischievous brood. "
Then taking Front-de-Boeuf aside, "Knowest thou the priest? "

"He is a stranger from a distant convent," replied Front-de-Boeuf; "I
know him not. "

"Then trust him not with our purpose in words," urged the Templar. "Let
him carry a written order to De Bracy's company of Free Companions, to
repair instantly to their master's aid. In the meantime, and that the
shaveling may suspect nothing, permit him to go freely about his task of
preparing the Saxon hogs for the slaughter-house. "

"It shall be so," said Front-de-Boeuf. And he forthwith appointed a
domestic to conduct the friar to the apartment where Cedric and
Athelstane were confined.

The natural impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced than
diminished by his confinement. He walked from one end of the hall to the
other, with the attitude of a man who advances to charge an enemy or
storm the breach of a beleaguered place, sometimes ejaculating to
himself and sometimes addressing Athelstane. The latter stoutly and
[v]stoically awaited the issue of the adventure, digesting in the
meantime, with great composure, the liberal meal which he had made at
noon and not greatly troubling himself about the duration of the
captivity.

"_Pax vobiscum_! " pronounced the priest, entering the apartment. "The
blessing of Saint Dunstan, Saint Dennis, Saint Duthoc, and all other
saints whatsoever, be upon ye and about ye. "

"Enter freely," said Cedric to the friar; "with what intent art thou
come hither? "

"To bid you prepare yourselves for death," was the reply.

"It is impossible! " said Cedric, starting. "Fearless and wicked as they
are, they dare not attempt such open and [v]gratuitous cruelty! "

"Alas! " returned the priest, "to restrain them by their sense of
humanity is the same as to stop a runaway horse with a bridle of silk
thread. Bethink thee, therefore, Cedric, and you also, Athelstane, what
crimes you have committed in the flesh, for this very day will ye be
called to answer at a higher [v]tribunal. "

"Hearest thou this, Athelstane? " said Cedric. "We must rouse up our
hearts to this last action, since better it is we should die like men
than live like slaves. "

"I am ready," answered Athelstane, "to stand the worst of their malice,
and shall walk to my death with as much composure as ever I did to my
dinner. "

"Let us, then, unto our holy [v]gear, father," said Cedric.

"Wait yet a moment, good [v]uncle," said the priest in a voice very
different from his solemn tones of a moment before; "better look before
you leap in the dark. "

"By my faith! " cried Cedric; "I should know that voice. "

"It is that of your trusty slave and jester," answered the priest,
throwing back his cowl and revealing the face of Wamba. "Take a fool's
advice, and you will not be here long. "

"How meanest thou, knave? " demanded the Saxon.

"Even thus," replied Wamba; "take thou this frock and cord and march
quietly out of the castle, leaving me your cloak and girdle to take the
long leap in thy stead. "

"Leave thee in my stead! " exclaimed Cedric, astonished at the proposal;
"why, they would hang thee, my poor knave. "

"E'en let them do as they are permitted," answered Wamba. "I trust--no
disparagement to your birth--that the son of Witless may hang in a chain
with as much gravity as the chain hung upon his ancestor the
[v]alderman. "

"Well, Wamba," said Cedric, "for one thing will I grant thy request. And
that is, if thou wilt make the exchange of garments with Lord Athelstane
instead of me. "

"No," answered Wamba; "there were little reason in that. Good right
there is that the son of Witless should suffer to save the son of
Hereward; but little wisdom there were in his dying for the benefit of
one whose fathers were strangers to his. "

"Villain," cried Cedric, "the fathers of Athelstane were monarchs of
England! "

"They might be whomsoever they pleased," replied Wamba; "but my neck
stands too straight on my shoulders to have it twisted for their sake.
Wherefore, good my master, either take my proffer yourself, or suffer me
to leave this dungeon as free as I entered. "

"Let the old tree wither," persisted Cedric, "so the stately hope of the
forest be preserved. Save the noble Athelstane, my trusty Wamba! It is
the duty of each who has Saxon blood in his veins. Thou and I will abide
together the utmost rage of our oppressors, while he, free and safe,
shall arouse the awakened spirits of our countrymen to avenge us. "

"Not so, father Cedric," said Athelstane, grasping his hand--for, when
roused to think or act, his deeds and sentiments were not unbecoming his
high race--"not so. I would rather remain in this hall a week without
food save the prisoner's stinted loaf, or drink save the prisoner's
measure of water, than embrace the opportunity to escape which the
slave's untaught kindness has [v]purveyed for his master. Go, noble
Cedric. Your presence without may encourage friends to our rescue; your
remaining here would ruin us all. "

"And is there any prospect, then, of rescue from without? " asked Cedric,
looking at the jester.

"Prospect indeed! " echoed Wamba. "Let me tell you that when you fill my
cloak you are wrapped in a general's cassock. Five hundred men are there
without, and I was this morning one of their chief leaders. My fool's
cap was a [v]casque, and my [v]bauble a truncheon. Well, we shall see
what good they will make by exchanging a fool for a wise man. Truly, I
fear they will lose in valor what they may gain in discretion. And so
farewell, master, and be kind to poor Gurth and his dog Fangs; and let
my [v]coxcomb hang in the hall at Rotherwood in memory that I flung away
my life for my master--like a faithful fool! "

The last word came out with a sort of double expression, betwixt jest
and earnest. The tears stood in Cedric's eyes.

"Thy memory shall be preserved," he said, "while fidelity and affection
have honor upon earth. But that I trust I shall find the means of saving
Rowena and thee, Athelstane, and thee also, my poor Wamba, thou shouldst
not overbear me in this matter. "

The exchange of dress was now accomplished, when a sudden doubt struck
Cedric.

"I know no language but my own and a few words of their mincing Norman.
How shall I bear myself like a reverend brother? "

"The spell lies in two words," replied Wamba: "_Pax vobiscum_ will
answer all queries. If you go or come, eat or drink, bless or ban, _Pax
vobiscum_ carries you through it all. It is as useful to a friar as a
broomstick to a witch or a wand to a conjurer. Speak it but thus, in a
deep, grave tone,--_Pax vobiscum_! --it is irresistible. Watch and ward,
knight and squire, foot and horse, it acts as a charm upon them all. I
think, if they bring me out to be hanged to-morrow, as is much to be
doubted they may, I will try its weight. "

"If such prove the case," said his master, "my religious orders are soon
taken. _Pax vobiscum_! I trust I shall remember the password. Noble
Athelstane, farewell; and farewell, my poor boy, whose heart might make
amends for a weaker head. I will save you, or return and die with you.
Farewell. "

"Farewell, noble Cedric," said Athelstane; "remember it is the true part
of a friar to accept refreshment, if you are offered any. "

Thus exhorted, Cedric sallied forth upon his expedition and presently
found himself in the presence of Front-de-Boeuf. The Saxon, with some
difficulty, compelled himself to make obeisance to the haughty baron,
who returned his courtesy with a slight inclination of the head.

"Thy penitents, father," said the latter, "have made a long [v]shrift.
It is the better for them, since it is the last they shall ever make.
Hast thou prepared them for death? "

"I found them," said Cedric, in such French as he could command,
"expecting the worst, from the moment they knew into whose power they
had fallen. "

"How now, sir friar," replied Front-de-Boeuf, "thy speech, me thinks,
smacks of the rude Saxon tongue? "

"I was bred in the convent of Saint Withold of Burton," answered Cedric.

"Ay," said the baron; "it had been better for thee to have been a
Norman, and better for my purpose, too; but need has no choice of
messengers. That Saint Withold's of Burton is a howlet's nest worth the
harrying. The day will soon come that the frock shall protect the Saxon
as little as the mail-coat. "

"God's will be done! " returned Cedric, in a voice tremulous with
passion, which Front-de-Boeuf imputed to fear.

"I see," he said, "thou dreamest already that our men-at-arms are in thy
refectory and thy ale-vaults. But do me one cast of thy holy office and
thou shalt sleep as safe in thy cell as a snail within his shell of
proof. "

"Speak your commands," replied Cedric, with suppressed emotion.

"Follow me through this passage, then, that I may dismiss thee by the
postern. "

As he strode on his way before the supposed friar, Front-de-Boeuf thus
schooled him in the part which he desired he should act.

"Thou seest, sir friar, yon herd of Saxon swine who have dared to
environ this castle of Torquilstone. Tell them whatever thou hast a mind
of the weakness of this [v]fortalice, or aught else that can detain
them before it for twenty-four hours. Meantime bear this scroll--but
soft--canst thou read, sir priest? "

"Not a jot I," answered Cedric, "save on my [v]breviary; and then I know
the characters because I have the holy service by heart, praised be
Saint Withold! "

"The fitter messenger for my purpose. Carry thou this scroll to the
castle of Philip de [v]Malvoisin; say it cometh from me and is written
by the Templar, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, and that I pray him to send it
to York with all speed man and horse can make. Meanwhile, tell him to
doubt nothing he shall find us whole and sound behind our battlement.
Shame on it, that we should be compelled to hide thus by a pack of
runagates who are wont to fly even at the flash of our pennons and the
tramp of our horses! I say to thee, priest, contrive some cast of thine
art to keep the knaves where they are until our friends bring up their
lances. "

With these words, Front-de-Boeuf led the way to a postern where, passing
the moat on a single plank, they reached a small barbican, or exterior
defense, which communicated with the open field by a well-fortified
sally-port.

"Begone, then; and if thou wilt do mine errand, and return hither when
it is done, thou shalt see Saxon flesh cheap as ever was hog's in the
shambles of Sheffield. And, hark thee! thou seemest to be a jolly
confessor--come hither after the onslaught and thou shalt have as much
good wine as would drench thy whole convent. "

"Assuredly we shall meet again," answered Cedric.

"Something in the hand the whilst," continued the Norman; and, as they
parted at the postern door, he thrust in Cedric's reluctant hand a gold
[v]byzant, adding, "Remember, I will flay off both cowl and skin if thou
failest in thy purpose. "

The supposed priest passed out of the door without further words.

Front-de-Boeuf turned back within the castle.

"Ho! Giles jailer," he called, "let them bring Cedric of Rotherwood
before me, and the other churl, his companion--him I mean of
Coningsburgh--Athelstane there, or what call they him? Their very names
are an encumbrance to a Norman knight's mouth, and have, as it were, a
flavor of bacon. Give me a stoop of wine, as jolly Prince John would
say, that I may wash away the relish. Place it in the armory, and
thither lead the prisoners. "

His commands were obeyed; and upon entering that Gothic apartment, hung
with many spoils won by his own valor and that of his father, he found a
flagon of wine on a massive oaken table, and the two Saxon captives
under the guard of four of his dependants. Front-de-Boeuf took a long
draught of wine and then addressed his prisoners, for the imperfect
light prevented his perceiving that the more important of them had
escaped.

"Gallants of England," said Front-de-Boeuf, "how relish ye your
entertainment at Torquilstone? Faith and Saint Dennis, an ye pay not a
rich ransom, I will hang ye up by the feet from the iron bars of these
windows till the kites and hooded crows have made skeletons of you!
Speak out, ye Saxon dogs, what bid ye for your worthless lives? What say
you, you of Rotherwood? "

"Not a [v]doit I," answered poor Wamba, "and for hanging up by the feet,
my brain has been topsy-turvy ever since the [v]biggin was bound first
around my head; so turning me upside down may peradventure restore it
again. "

"Hah! " cried Front-de-Boeuf, "what have we here? "

And with the back of his hand he struck Cedric's cap from the head of
the jester, and throwing open his collar, discovered the fatal badge of
servitude, the silver collar round his neck.

"Giles--Clement--dogs and varlets! " called the furious Norman, "what
villain have you brought me here? "

"I think I can tell you," said De Bracy, who just entered the apartment.
"This is Cedric's clown. "

"Go," ordered Front-de-Boeuf; "fetch me the right Cedric hither, and I
pardon your error for once--the rather that you but mistook a fool for
a Saxon [v]franklin. "

"Ay, but," said Wamba, "your chivalrous excellency will find there are
more fools than franklins among us. "

"What means this knave? " said Front-de-Boeuf, looking toward his
followers, who, lingering and loath, faltered forth their belief that if
this were not Cedric who was there in presence, they knew not what was
become of him.

"Heavens! " exclaimed De Bracy. "He must have escaped in the monk's
garments! "

"Fiends! " echoed Front-de-Boeuf. "It was then the boar of Rotherwood
whom I ushered to the postern and dismissed with my own hands! And
thou," he said to Wamba, "whose folly could over-reach the wisdom of
idiots yet more gross than thyself. I will give thee holy orders, I will
shave thy crown for thee! Here, let them tear the scalp from his head
and pitch him headlong from the battlements. Thy trade is to jest: canst
thou jest now? "

"You deal with me better than your word, noble knight," whimpered forth
poor Wamba, whose habits of [v]buffoonery were not to be overcome even
by the immediate prospect of death; "if you give me the red cap you
propose, out of a simple monk you will make a [v]cardinal. "

"The poor wretch," said De Bracy, "is resolved to die in his vocation. "
The next moment would have been Wamba's last but for an unexpected
interruption. A hoarse shout, raised by many voices, bore to the inmates
of the hall the tidings that the besiegers were advancing to the attack.
There was a moment's silence in the hall, which was broken by De Bracy.
"To the battlements," he said; "let us see what these knaves do
without. "

So saying, he opened a latticed window which led to a sort of projecting
balcony, and immediately called to those in the apartment, "Saint
Dennis, it is time to stir! They bring forward [v]mantelets and
[v]pavisses, and the archers muster on the skirts of the wood like a
dark cloud before a hail-storm. "

Front-de-Boeuf also looked out upon the field and immediately snatched
his bugle. After winding a long and loud blast, he commanded his men to
their posts on the walls.

"De Bracy, look to the eastern side, where the walls are lowest. Noble
Bois-Guilbert, thy trade hath well taught thee how to attack and defend,
so look thou to the western side. I myself will take post at the
barbican. Our numbers are few, but activity and courage may supply that
defect, since we have only to do with rascal clowns. "

The Templar had in the meantime been looking out on the proceedings of
the besiegers with deeper attention than Front-de-Boeuf or his giddy
companion.

"By the faith of mine order," he said, "these men approach with more
touch of discipline than could have been judged, however they come by
it. See ye how dexterously they avail themselves of every cover which a
tree or bush affords and avoid exposing themselves to the shot of our
cross-bows? I spy neither banner nor pennon, and yet I will gage my
golden chain that they are led by some noble knight or gentleman
skillful in the practice of wars. "

"I espy him," said De Bracy; "I see the waving of a knight's crest and
the gleam of his armor. See yon tall man in the black mail who is busied
marshaling the farther troop of the rascally yeomen. By Saint Dennis, I
hold him to be the knight who did so well in the tournament at Ashby. "

The demonstrations of the enemy's approach cut off all farther
discourse. The Templar and De Bracy repaired to their posts and, at the
head of the few followers they were able to muster, awaited with calm
determination the threatened assault, while Front-de-Boeuf went to see
that all was secure in the besieged fortress.


V

In the meantime, the wounded Wilfred of Ivanhoe had been gradually
recovering his strength. Taken into her litter by Rebecca when his own
father hesitated to succor him, the young knight had lain in a stupor
through all the experiences of the journey and the capture of Cedric's
party by the Normans. De Bracy, who, bad as he was, was not without some
[v]compunction, on finding the occupant of the litter to be Ivanhoe, had
placed the invalid under the charge of two of his squires, who were
directed to state to any inquirers that he was a wounded comrade.