Ivanhoe

preceptor of this house?”

Albert Malvoisin, still holding Rebecca’s glove in his hand, was speaking to Bois-Guilbert very earnestly, but in a low voice.

“How!” said the Grand Master, “will he not receive the gage?”

“He will—he doth, most reverend father,” said Malvoisin, slipping the glove under his own mantle. “And for the place of combat, I hold the fittest to be the lists of St. George belonging to this preceptory, and used by us for military exercise.”

“It is well,” said the Grand Master. “Rebecca, in those lists shalt thou produce thy champion; and if thou failest to do so, or if thy champion shall be discomfited by the judgment of God, thou shalt then die the death of a sorceress, according to doom. Let this our judgment be recorded, and the record read aloud that no one may pretend ignorance.”

One of the chaplains who acted as clerks to the chapter immediately engrossed the order in a huge volume, which contained the proceedings of the Templar Knights when solemnly assembled on such occasions; and when he had finished writing, the other read aloud the sentence of the Grand Master, which, when translated from the Norman-French in which it was couched, was expressed as follows:—

“Rebecca, a Jewess, daughter of Isaac of York, being attainted of sorcery, seduction, and other damnable practices, practised on a knight of the most holy order of the Temple of Zion, doth deny the same, and saith that the testimony delivered against her this day is false, wicked, and disloyal; and that by lawful essoine^fq of her body, as being unable to combat in her own behalf, she doth offer, by a champion instead thereof, to avouch her case, he performing his loyal devoir in all knightly sort, with such arms as to gage of battle do fully appertain, and that at her peril and cost. And therewith she proffered her gage. And the gage having been delivered to the noble lord and knight, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, of the holy order of the Temple of Zion, he was appointed to do this battle in behalf of his order and himself, as injured and impaired by the practices of the appellant. Wherefore the most reverend father and puissant lord, Lucas Marquis of Beaumanoir, did allow of the said challenge, and of the said essoine of the appellant’s body, and assigned the third day for the said combat, the place being the inclosure called the lists of St. George, near to the preceptory of Templestowe. And the Grand Master appointed the appellant to appear there by her champion, on pain of doom, as a person convicted of sorcery or seduction; and also the defendant so to appear, under the penalty of being held and adjudged recreant in case of default; and the noble lord and most reverend father aforesaid appointed the battle to be done in his own presence, and according to all that is commendable and profitable in such case. And may God aid the just cause!”

“Amen!” said the Grand Master; and the word was echoed by all around. Rebecca spoke not, but she looked up to Heaven, and, folding her hands, remained for a minute without change of attitude. She then modestly reminded the Grand Master that she ought to be permitted some opportunity of free communication with her friends, for the purpose of making her condition known to them, and procuring, if possible, some champion to fight in her behalf.

“It is just and lawful,” said the Grand Master; “choose what messenger thou shalt trust, and he shall have free communication with thee in thy prison-chamber.”

“Is there,” said Rebecca, “any one here who, either for love of a good cause or for ample hire, will do the errand of a distressed being?”

All were silent; for none thought it safe, in the presence of the Grand Master, to avow any interest in the calumniated prisoner, lest he should be suspected of leaning towards Judaism. Not even the prospect of reward, far less any feelings of compassion alone, could surmount this apprehension.

Rebecca stood for a few moments in indescribable anxiety, and then exclaimed, “Is it really thus? And in English land am I to be deprived of the poor chance of safety which remains to me, for want of an act of charity which would not be refused to the worst criminal?”

Higg, the son of Snell, at length replied, “I am but a maimed man, but that I can at all stir or move was owing to her charitable assistance. I will do thine errand,” he added, addressing Rebecca, “as well as a crippled object can, and happy were my limbs fleet enough to repair the mischief done by my tongue. Alas! when I boasted of thy charity, I little thought I was leading thee into danger!”

“God,” said Rebecca, “is the disposer of all. He can turn back the captivity of Judah, even by the weakest instrument. To execute His message the snail is as sure a messenger as the falcon. Seek out Isaac of York—here is that will pay for horse and man—let him have this scroll. I know not if it be of Heaven the spirit which inspires me, but most truly do I judge that I am not to die this death, and that a champion will be raised up for me. Farewell! Life and death are in thy haste.”

The peasant took the scroll, which contained only a few lines in Hebrew. Many of the crowd would have dissuaded him from touching a document so suspicious; but Higg was resolute in the service of his benefactress. “She had saved his body,” he said, “and he was confident she did not mean to peril his soul.”

“I will get me,” he said, “my neighbour Buthan’s good capul, and I will be at York within as brief space as man and beast may.”

But, as it fortuned, he had no occasion to go so far, for within a quarter of a mile from the gate of the preceptory he met with two riders, whom, by their dress and their huge yellow caps, he knew to be Jews; and on approaching more nearly, discovered that one of them was his ancient employer, Isaac of York. The other was the Rabbi ben Samuel [Israel]; and both had approached as near to the preceptory as they dared, on hearing that the Grand Master had summoned a chapter for the trial of a sorceress.

“Brother ben Samuel,” said Isaac, “my soul is disquieted, and I wot not why. This charge of necromancy is right often used for cloaking evil practices on our people.”

“Be of good comfort, brother,” said the physician; “thou canst deal with the Nazarenes as one possessing the mammon of unrighteousness, and canst therefore purchase immunity at their hands: it rules the savage minds of those ungodly men, even as the signet of the mighty Solomon was said to command the evil genii.² But what poor wretch comes hither upon his crutches, desiring, as I think, some speech of me? Friend,” continued the physician, addressing Higg, the son of Snell, “I refuse thee not the aid of mine art, but I relieve not with one asper^fr those who beg for alms upon the highway. Out upon thee! Hast thou the palsy in thy legs? then let thy hands work for thy livelihood; for, albeit thou be’t unfit for a speedy post, or for a careful shepherd, or for the warfare, or for the service of a hasty master, yet there be occupations—How now, brother?” said he, interrupting his harangue to look towards Isaac, who had but glanced at the scroll which Higg offered, when, uttering a deep groan, he fell from his mule like a dying man, and lay for a minute insensible.

The Rabbi now dismounted in great alarm, and hastily applied the remedies which his art suggested for the recovery of his companion. He had even taken from his pocket a cupping apparatus, and was about to proceed to phlebotomy,^fs when the object of his anxious solicitude suddenly revived; but it was to dash his cap from his head, and to throw dust on his grey hairs. The physician was at first inclined to ascribe this sudden and violent emotion to the effects of insanity; and, adhering to his original purpose, began once again to handle his implements. But Isaac soon convinced him of his error.

“Child of my sorrow,” he said, “well shouldst thou be called Benoni,³ instead of Rebecca! Why should thy death bring down my grey hairs to the grave, till, in the bitterness of my heart, I curse God and die!”

“Brother,” said the Rabbi, in great surprise, “art thou a father in Israel, and dost thou utter words like unto these? I trust that the child of thy house yet liveth?”

“She liveth,” answered Isaac; “but it is as Daniel, who was called Belteshazzar, even when within the den of the lions. She is captive unto those men of Belial, and they will wreak their cruelty upon her, sparing neither for her youth nor her comely favour. O! she was as a crown of green palms to my grey locks; and she must wither in a night, like the gourd of Jonah!⁴ Child of my love!—child of my old age!—oh, Rebecca, daughter of Rachael! the darkness of the shadow of death hath encompassed thee.”

“Yet read the scroll,” said the Rabbi; “peradventure it may be that we may yet find out a way of deliverance.”

“Do thou read, brother,” answered Isaac, “for mine eyes are as a fountain of water.”

The physician read, but in their native language, the following words:—

“To Isaac, the son of Adonikam, whom the Gentiles call Isaac of York, peace and the blessing of the promise be multiplied unto thee! My father, I am as one doomed to die for that which my soul knoweth not, even for the