Englishmen, shall not want English hands to help him in this
extremity. Come, then, with me, until I gather more aid."
So saying, he walked through the wood at a great pace, followed by
the jester and the swineherd.
It was after three hours' good walking that the servants of
Cedric, with their mysterious guide, arrived at a small opening in
the forest. Beneath an enormous oak-tree several yeomen lay
stretched on the ground, while another, as sentinel, walked to and
fro in the moonlight shade. Locksley, on being recognised, was
welcomed with every token of respect and attachment; and he at
once gave orders to collect what force they could.
"A set of gallants," he said, "who have been masquerading in such
guise as our own, are carrying a band of prisoners to Torquilstone,
the castle of Front-de-Boeuf. Our honour is concerned to punish
them, and we will find means to do so."
In the meantime Cedric and the other prisoners had been hurried
along by Bois-Guilbert and De Bracy, and safely lodged in the
strong and ancient castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf. Once within
the castle, the prisoners were separated. Cedric and Athelstane
were confined in one apartment, the Lady Rowena in another, while
the poor Jew was hastily thrust into a dungeon-vault, the floor of
which was deep beneath the level of the ground, and his daughter
Rebecca was locked into a cell in a distant and sequestered
turret.
The dungeon occupied by Isaac of York was dark and damp. Chains
and shackles, which had been the portion of former captives, hung
rusted on the gloomy walls, and in the rings of one of those sets
of fetters there remained the mouldering bones of some unhappy
prisoner who had been left to perish there in other days. At one
end of this ghastly apartment was a large fire-grate, over the top
of which were stretched some transverse bars of iron, half
devoured with rust.
For nearly three hours the wretched Jew remained sitting in a
corner of his dungeon, when steps were heard on the stair by which
it was approached. The bolts were withdrawn, the hinges creaked as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.
"Most cursed dog of an accursed race!" he said to Isaac, "see'st
thou these scales? In these shalt thou weigh me out a thousand
silver pounds."
"Holy Abraham!" returned the Jew, "heard man ever such a demand?
Not within the walls of York, ransack my house and that of all my
tribe, wilt thou find the tithe of that huge sum of silver."
"Prepare, then," said the Norman, "for a long and lingering
death."
And he ordered the slave to make ready the fire.
"See'st thou, Isaac," he said, "the range of bars above that
glowing charcoal? On that warm couch shalt thou lie, stripped of
thy clothes. One of these slaves shall maintain the fire beneath
thee, while another shall anoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest
the roast should burn. Now, choose between such a scorching bed
and the payment of a thousand pounds of silver; for, by the head
of my father, thou hast no other option."
"So may Abraham, Jacob, 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 exorbitant demand."
"Seize him, and strip him, slaves!" said the knight, "and let the
fathers of his race assist him if they can."
The assistants stepped forward, and laying hands on the
unfortunate man, waited the hardhearted baron's further signal.
The unhappy Jew eyed their savage countenances and that of Front-
de-Boeuf, in hope of discovering some symptoms of relenting; and
as he looked again at the glowing furnace his resolution at length
gave way.
"I will pay!" he said. "That is," he added, after a moment's
pause, "I will pay it with the help of my brethren. Let my
daughter Rebecca go forth to York, and she will bring the treasure
here."
"Thy daughter!" said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised. "By heavens!
Isaac, I would I had known of this; I gave the black-browed girl
to be a handmaiden to Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, to do as it
might please him with her. My word is passed to my comrade in
arms; nor would I break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot."
The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling communication made
the vault ring.
"Robber and villain!" he exclaimed, "I will pay thee nothing--not
one silver penny will I pay thee--unless my daughter is delivered
to me in safety and honour. Do thy worst. Take my life if thou
wilt, and say the Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint
the Christian."
"Strip him, slaves! and chain him down upon the bars," said Front-
de-Boeuf.
The Saracens, in obedience to this savage order, had already torn
from the feeble and struggling old man 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; and immediately after, loud 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 hastily quitted
the dungeon with his attendants.
During the time the unhappy Jew was undergoing his terrible ordeal
in the gloomy dungeon, his daughter Rebecca, in her lonely turret,
had been exposed to attentions no less unpleasant.
On being left in the secluded cell, she found herself in the
presence of an old hag, who kept murmuring to herself a Saxon
rhyme, as if to beat time to the spindle at which she was engaged.
As soon as they were alone the old woman addressed the Jewess,
telling her that she was once as young and fair as herself, when
Front-de-Boeuf, the father of the man who now lorded it in the
castle, attacked the place and slew her father and his seven sons,
and she became the prey and scorn of the conqueror.
"Is there no help? Are there no means of escape?" said Rebecca.
"Richly, richly would I requite thine aid."
"Think not of it," said the hag, "from hence there is no escape
but through the gates of death; and it is late, late," she added
shaking her gray head, "ere these open to us. Fare thee well,
Jewess!--thou hast to do with them that have neither scruple nor
pity." And so saying she left the room, locking the door behind
her.
Before long a step was heard on the stair, and the door of the
turret-chamber slowly opened, and Brian de Bois-Guilbert entered
the room. He commenced to address the Jewess with flattering
speeches, saying that he loved her, and that she must now be his.
But Rebecca rejected his proffered love with scorn, protesting
that she would proclaim his villainy from one end of Europe to the
other. "At least," she said, "those who tremble not at thy crime
will hold thee accursed for having so far dishonoured the cross
thou wearest as to follow a daughter of my people."
"Thou art keen-witted, Jewess," replied the Templar, well aware of
the truth of what she spoke; "but loud must be thy voice of
complaint, if it is heard beyond the iron walls of this castle.
One thing only can save thee, Rebecca. Submit to thy fate, embrace
our religion, and thou shalt go forth in such state that many a
Norman lady shall envy thee thy lot."
"Submit to my fate!" said Rebecca, "and, sacred Heaven! to what
fate? Embrace thy religion, and what religion can it be that
harbours such a villain? Craven knight! forsworn priest! I spit at
thee and I defy thee. The God of Abraham's promise hath opened an
escape to His daughter, even from this abyss of infamy!"
As she spoke she threw open the latticed window, and in an instant
after stood on the very verge of the parapet outside, with not the
slightest screen between her and the tremendous depth below.
Unprepared for such a desperate effort, Bois-Guilbert had time
neither to intercept nor to stop her. As he offered to advance,
she exclaimed, "Remain where thou art, proud Templar, or at thy
choice advance! One foot nearer, and I plunge myself from the
precipice; my body shall be crushed out of the very form of
humanity upon the stones below ere it become the victim of thy
brutality!"
The Templar hesitated, and a resolution which would have never
yielded to pity or distress gave way to his admiration for her
fortitude. "Come down," he said, "rash girl! I swear by earth, and
sea, and sky, I will offer thee no offence. Many a law, many a
commandment have I broken, but my word never."
"Thus far," said Rebecca, "I will trust thee;" and she descended
from the verge of the battlement, but remained standing close by
one of the embrasures. "Here," she said, "I take my stand. If thou
shalt attempt to diminish by one step the distance now between us,
thou shalt see that the Jewish maiden will rather trust her soul
with God than her honour to the Templar."
As she spoke, the bugle was heard to sound, announcing that the
presence of the knight was required in another part of the castle;
and as he instantly obeyed the summons, Rebecca found herself once
more alone.
When the Templar reached the hall of the castle, he found De Bracy
there already. They were soon after joined by Front-de-Boeuf.
"Let us see the cause of this cursed clamour," said Front-de-
Boeuf. "Here is a letter, and if I mistake not, it is in Saxon."
The Templar took the paper from his hand and read it. It was a
demand to surrender the prisoners within one hour, failing which
the castle would be instantly besieged; and it was signed at the
end by Wamba and Gurth, by the Black Knight and Locksley.
The answer which was returned from the castle to this missive
announced that the prisoners would not be given up; but that
permission would be given to a man of religion to come to receive
their dying confession, as it had been determined to execute them
before noon.
When this reply was brought back to the party of the Black Knight,
a hurried consultation was held as to what they should do. There
being no churchman amongst them, and as no one else seemed willing
to undertake the risk of trusting himself within the castle,
Wamba, the jester, was selected for the office. He was soon
muffled in his religious disguise; and imitating the solemn and
stately deportment of a friar, he departed to execute his mission.
As he approached the castle gate, he was at once admitted, and
shortly after was ushered into the apartment where Cedric and
Athelstane were confined; and the three were left alone. It was
not long before Cedric recognised the voice of his jester. The
faithful servant at once suggested that his master should change
garments with him, and so make his escape. But it required the
strong pressure of both Wamba and Athelstane before Cedric would
consent. At length he yielded, and the exchange of dress was
accomplished. He left the apartment saying that he would rescue
his friends, or return and die along with them.
In a low-arched and dusky passage by which Cedric endeavoured to
work his way to the hall, he was met by Urfried, the old crone of
the tower.
"Come this way, father," she said to him; "thou art a stranger,
and canst not leave the castle without a guide. Come hither, for I
would speak with thee."
So saying, she proceeded to conduct the unwilling Cedric into a
small apartment, the door of which she heedfully secured. "Thou
art a Saxon, father," she said to him; "the sounds of my native
language are sweet to mine ears, though seldom heard for many
years."
She then told him the story of her unhappy and degraded life, and
how she was once the daughter of the noble thane of Torquilstone.
"Thou the daughter of Torquil Wolfganger!" said Cedric; "thou--
thou, the daughter of my father's friend and companion in arms!"
"Thy father's friend!" echoed Urfried; "then Cedric, called the
Saxon, stands before me. But why this religious dress?"
"It matters not who I am," said Cedric; "proceed, unhappy woman,
unhappy Ulrica, I should say, for thou canst be none other, with
thy tale of horror and guilt. Wretched woman!" he exclaimed, as
she concluded her miserable history, "so thou hast lived, when all
believed thee murdered; hast lived to merit our hate and
execration; lived to unite thyself with the vile tyrant who slew
thy nearest and dearest!"
"I hated him with all my soul," replied Ulrica; "I also have had
my hours of vengeance; I have fomented the quarrels of our foes; I
have seen their blood flow, and heard their dying groans; I have
seen my oppressor fall at his own board by the hand of his own
son. Yet here I dwelt, till age, premature age, has stamped its
ghastly features on my countenance, scorned and insulted where I
was once obeyed. Thou art the first I have seen for twenty years
by whom God was feared or man regarded; and dost thou bid me
despair?"
"I bid thee repent," said Cedric; "but I cannot, I will not,
longer abide with thee."
"Stay yet a moment!" said Ulrica. "Revenge henceforth shall
possess me wholly, and thou thyself shalt say that, whatever was
the life of Ulrica, her death well became the daughter of the
noble Torquil. Hasten to lead your forces to the attack, and when
thou shalt see a red flag wave from the eastern turret, press the
Normans hard; they will have enough to do within. Begone, I pray
thee; follow thine own fate, and leave me to mine."
As she spoke she vanished through a private door, and Front-de-
Boeuf entered the apartment.
"Thy penitents, father," he said, "have made a long shrift; but
come, follow me through this passage, that I may dismiss thee by
the postern."
As Cedric was leaving the castle, the Norman gave him a note to
carry to Philip de Malvoisin, begging him to send assistance with
all the speed he could. He promised the friar a large reward for
doing the errand, and as they parted at the postern door he thrust
into Cedric's reluctant hand a piece of gold, adding, "Remember, I
will flay off thy cowl and skin if thou failest in thy purpose."
When Front-de-Boeuf rejoined his friends and found out the trick
which had been played upon him, and that Cedric had escaped, his
rage was unbounded, and it was only on De Bracy interceding for
him that he consented to spare the life of the poor jester.
Before long the inmates of the castle had other things to occupy
them. The enemy was announced to be under their very walls; and
each knight repaired hastily to his post, and at the head of the
few followers whom they were able to muster they awaited with calm
determination the threatened assault.
When at length the attack upon the castle was commenced all was at
once bustle and clamour within its gloomy walls. The heavy step of
men-at-arms traversed the battlements, or resounded on the narrow
and winding passages and the stairs which led to the various
bartizans and points of defence. The voices of the knights were
heard animating their followers, or directing means of defence;
while their commands were often drowned in the clashing of armour
or the clamourous shouts of those whom they addressed. The shrill
bugle without was answered by a flourish of Norman trumpets from
the battlements, while the cries of both parties augmented the
fearful din. Showers of well-directed arrows came pouring against
each embrasure and opening in the parapets, as well as every
window where a defender might be suspected to be stationed; and
these were answered by a furious discharge of whizzing shafts and
missiles from the walls.
And so for some time the fight went on; many combatants falling on
either side. But soon the conflict became even more desperate when
the Black Knight, at the head of a body of his followers, led an
attack upon the outer barrier of the barbican. Down came the piles
and palisades before their irresistible onslaught; but their
headlong rush through the broken barriers was met by Front-de-
Boeuf himself and a number of the defenders.
The two leaders came face to face, and fought hand to hand on the
breach amid the roar of their followers who watched the progress
of the strife. Hot and fierce was the combat that ensued between
them; but ere many minutes had passed the giant form of Front-de-
Boeuf tottered like an oak under the steel of the woodman, and
dropped to the ground.
His followers rushed forward to where he lay, and their united
force compelling the Black Knight to pause, they dragged their
wounded leader within the walls.
An interval of quiet now succeeded, the besiegers remaining in
possession of the outer defences of the castle, and the besieged
retiring for the time within the walls of the fortress.
During the confusion which reigned amongst the followers of Front-
de-Boeuf when the attack had commenced, Rebecca had been allowed
to take the place of the old crone, Ulrica, who was in close
attendance on the wounded man who had been brought into the castle
in company with Isaac of York and the other captives. The sufferer
was Ivanhoe himself, who had so mysteriously disappeared on the
conclusion of the tournament, when his father, Cedric, had sent
his servants to attend him to a place of safety. The gallant young
warrior, who, as he fell fainting to the ground, seemed to be
abandoned by all the world, had been transported from the lists at
the entreaty of Rebecca, to the house at Ashby then occupied by
Isaac of York, where his wounds were dressed and tended by the
Jewish maiden herself. So great was her skill and knowledge of
medicine, that she undertook to restore the injured knight to
health in eight days' time; but she informed him of the necessity
they were under of removing to York, and of her father's
resolution to transport him thither, and tend him in his own house
until his wound should be healed. It was on their journey to that
town that they were overtaken on the road by Cedric and his party,
in whose company they were afterwards carried captive to the
Castle of Torquilstone.
But to return to the assault. When Front-de-Boeuf, deeply wounded,
was rescued by his followers from the fury of the Black Knight, he
was conveyed to his chamber. As he lay upon his bed, racked with
pain and mental agony, and filled with the fear of rapidly
approaching death, he heard a voice address him.
"Think on thy sins," it said, "Reginald Front-de-Boeuf; on
rebellion, on rapine, on murder."
"Who is there? What art thou?" he exclaimed in terror. "Depart,
and haunt my couch no more; let me die in peace."
"In peace thou shalt NOT die," repeated the voice; "even in death
shalt thou think on the groans which this castle has echoed, on
the blood that is engrained in its floors."
"Go, leave me, fiend!" replied the wounded Norman. "Leave me and
seek the Saxon witch, Ulrica, who was my temptress; let her, as
well as I, taste the tortures which anticipate hell."
"She already tastes them," said Ulrica, stepping before the couch
of Front-de-Boeuf; "she hath long drunken of this cup, and its
bitterness is now sweetened to see that thou dost partake it."
"Detestable fury!" exclaimed the Norman. "Ho! Giles, Clement,
Eustace, seize this witch, and hurl her from the battlements; she
has betrayed us to the Saxon."
"Call on them again, valiant baron," said the hag, with a smile of
grisly mockery; "but know, mighty chief, thou shalt have neither
answer nor aid. Listen to these horrid sounds," for the din of the
recommenced assault and defence now rung fearfully loud from the
battlements of the castle; "in that war-cry is the downfall of thy
house. And know, too, even now, the doom which all thy power and
strength is unable to avoid, though it is prepared for thee by
this feeble hand. Markest thou the smouldering and suffocating
vapour which already eddies in sable folds through the chamber?
Rememberest thou the magazine of fuel that is stored beneath these
apartments?"
"Woman!" exclaimed the wounded man with fury, "thou hast not set
fire to it? By heaven thou hast, and the castle is in flames!"
"They are fast rising, at least," said Ulrica; "and a signal shall
soon wave to warn the besiegers to press hard upon those who would
extinguish them. Farewell, Front-de-Boeuf; farewell for ever."
So saying, she left the apartment; and Front-de-Boeuf could hear
the crash of the ponderous key, as she locked and double-locked
the door behind her.
Meanwhile, the Black Knight had led his forces again to the
attack; and so vigorous was their assault, that before long the
gate of the castle alone separated them from those within. At this
moment the besiegers caught sight of the red flag upon the tower
which Ulrica had described to Cedric; and, as she had bade them
do, the assailants at once redoubled their efforts to break in the
postern gate.
The defenders, finding the castle to be on fire, now determined to
sell their lives as dearly as they could; and, headed by De Bracy,
they threw open the gate, and were at once involved in a terrific
conflict with those outside. The Black Knight, with portentous
strength, forced his way inward in despite of De Bracy and his
followers. Two of the foremost instantly fell, and the rest gave
way, notwithstanding all their leaders' efforts to stop them. The
Black Knight was soon engaged in desperate combat with the Norman
chief, and the vaulted roof of the hall rung with their furious
blows. At length De Bracy fell.
"Yield thee, De Bracy," said the Black Champion, stooping over
him, and holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal poniard
with which the knights despatched their enemies. "Yield thee,
rescue or no rescue, or thou art but a dead man."
"I will not yield," replied the Norman faintly, "to an unknown
conqueror. Tell me thy name, or work thy pleasure on me."
The Black Knight whispered something into the ear of the
vanquished.
"I yield me to be true prisoner, rescue or no rescue," then
answered De Bracy, in a tone of sullen submission.
"Go to the barbican," said the victor in a tone of authority, "and
wait there my further orders."
"Yet first let me say," said De Bracy, "what it imports thee to
know. Wilfred of Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will
perish in the burning castle without present help."
"Wilfred of Ivanhoe!" exclaimed the Black Knight--"prisoner, and
perish! The life of every man in the castle shall answer it if a
hair of his head be singed. Show me his chamber!"
When the Black Knight reached the room, Ivanhoe was alone.
Rebecca, who had remained with him until a few moments before, had
just been carried off forcibly by Bois-Guilbert. Raising the
wounded man with ease, the Black Knight rushed with him to the
postern gate, and having there delivered his burden to the care of
two yeomen, he again entered the castle to assist in the rescue of
the other prisoners.
One turret was now in bright flames, which flashed out furiously
from window and shot-hole. But in other parts the besiegers
pursued the defenders of the castle from chamber to chamber, and
satiated in their blood the vengeance which had long animated them
against the soldiers of the tyrant, Front-de Boeuf. Most of the
garrison resisted to the uttermost; few of them asked quarter,
none received it.
As the fire commenced to spread rapidly through all parts of the
castle, Ulrica appeared on one of the turrets. Her long
dishevelled gray hair flew back from her uncovered head, while the
delight of gratified vengeance contended in her eyes with the fire
of insanity. Before long the towering flames had surmounted every
obstruction, and rose to the evening skies one huge and burning
beacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent country; tower
after tower crashed down, with blazing roof and rafter. The
vanquished, of whom very few remained, scattered and escaped into
the neighbouring wood. The maniac figure of Ulrica was for a long
time visible on the lofty stand she had chosen, tossing her arms
abroad with wild exultation. At length, with a terrific crash, the
whole turret gave way, and she perished in the flames which had
consumed her tyrant.
When day dawned the outlaws and their rescued prisoners assembled
around the trysting-tree in the oak forest, beside the now ruined
castle. Two only of Front-de-Boeuf's captives were missing:
Athelstane and the Jewish maiden, the former being reported as
amongst the slain, and Rebecca having been carried off by Bois-
Guilbert before her friends could effect her rescue.