Ivanhoe - Walter Scott (e ink ebook reader txt) 📗

enterprise. Dearly, however, did my father

purchase the praise of a zealous friend; and yet did his proof of

loyalty to Henry fall far short of what I am about to afford; for

rather would I assail a whole calendar of saints, than put spear

in rest against Coeur-de-Lion.---De Bracy, to thee I must trust

to keep up the spirits of the doubtful, and to guard Prince

John’s person. If you receive such news as I trust to send you,

our enterprise will no longer wear a doubtful aspect.---Page,” he

said, “hie to my lodgings, and tell my armourer to be there in

readiness; and bid Stephen Wetheral, Broad Thoresby, and the

Three Spears of Spyinghow, come to me instantly; and let the

scout-master, Hugh Bardon, attend me also.---Adieu, my Prince,

till better times.” Thus speaking, he left the apartment. “He

goes to make my brother prisoner,” said Prince John to De Bracy,

“with as little touch of compunction, as if it but concerned the

liberty of a Saxon franklin. I trust he will observe our orders,

and use our dear Richard’s person with all due respect.”

De Bracy only answered by a smile.

“By the light of Our Lady’s brow,” said Prince John, “our orders

to him were most precise---though it may be you heard them not,

as we stood together in the oriel window---Most clear and

positive was our charge that Richard’s safety should be cared

for, and woe to Waldemar’s head if he transgress it!”

“I had better pass to his lodgings,” said De Bracy, “and make him

fully aware of your Grace’s pleasure; for, as it quite escaped my

ear, it may not perchance have reached that of Waldemar.”

“Nay, nay,” said Prince John, impatiently, “I promise thee he

heard me; and, besides, I have farther occupation for thee.

Maurice, come hither; let me lean on thy shoulder.”

They walked a turn through the hall in this familiar posture, and

Prince John, with an air of the most confidential intimacy,

proceeded to say, “What thinkest thou of this Waldemar Fitzurse,

my De Bracy?---He trusts to be our Chancellor. Surely we will

pause ere we give an office so high to one who shows evidently

how little he reverences our blood, by his so readily undertaking

this enterprise against Richard. Thou dost think, I warrant,

that thou hast lost somewhat of our regard, by thy boldly

declining this unpleasing task---But no, Maurice! I rather

honour thee for thy virtuous constancy. There are things most

necessary to be done, the perpetrator of which we neither love

nor honour; and there may be refusals to serve us, which shall

rather exalt in our estimation those who deny our request. The

arrest of my unfortunate brother forms no such good title to the

high office of Chancellor, as thy chivalrous and courageous

denial establishes in thee to the truncheon of High Marshal.

Think of this, De Bracy, and begone to thy charge.”

“Fickle tyrant!” muttered De Bracy, as he left the presence of

the Prince; “evil luck have they who trust thee. Thy Chancellor,

indeed!---He who hath the keeping of thy conscience shall have an

easy charge, I trow. But High Marshal of England! that,” he

said, extending his arm, as if to grasp the baton of office, and

assuming a loftier stride along the antechamber, “that is indeed

a prize worth playing for!”

De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince John

summoned an attendant.

“Bid Hugh Bardon, our scout-master, come hither, as soon as he

shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzurse.”

The scout-master arrived after a brief delay, during which John

traversed the apartment with, unequal and disordered steps.

“Bardon,” said he, “what did Waldemar desire of thee?”

“Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern wilds, and

skilful in tracking the tread of man and horse.”

“And thou hast fitted him?”

“Let your grace never trust me else,” answered the master of the

spies. “One is from Hexamshire; he is wont to trace the Tynedale

and Teviotdale thieves, as a bloodhound follows the slot of a

hurt deer. The other is Yorkshire bred, and has twanged his

bowstring right oft in merry Sherwood; he knows each glade and

dingle, copse and high-wood, betwixt this and Richmond.”

“‘Tis well,” said the Prince.---“Goes Waldemar forth with them?”

“Instantly,” said Bardon.

“With what attendance?” asked John, carelessly.

“Broad Thoresby goes with him, and Wetheral, whom they call, for

his cruelty, Stephen Steel-heart; and three northern men-at-arms

that belonged to Ralph Middleton’s gang---they are called the

Spears of Spyinghow.”

“‘Tis well,” said Prince John; then added, after a moment’s

pause, “Bardon, it imports our service that thou keep a strict

watch on Maurice De Bracy---so that he shall not observe it,

however---And let us know of his motions from time to time

---with whom he converses, what he proposeth. Fail not in this,

as thou wilt be answerable.”

Hugh Bardon bowed, and retired.

“If Maurice betrays me,” said Prince John---“if he betrays me, as

his bearing leads me to fear, I will have his head, were Richard

thundering at the gates of York.”

CHAPTER XXXV

Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts,

Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey;

Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire

Of wild Fanaticism.

Anonymus

Our tale now returns to Isaac of York.---Mounted upon a mule, the

gift of the Outlaw, with two tall yeomen to act as his guard and

guides, the Jew had set out for the Preceptory of Templestowe,

for the purpose of negotiating his daughter’s redemption. The

Preceptory was but a day’s journey from the demolished castle of

Torquilstone, and the Jew had hoped to reach it before nightfall;

accordingly, having dismissed his guides at the verge of the

forest, and rewarded them with a piece of silver, he began to

press on with such speed as his weariness permitted him to exert.

But his strength failed him totally ere he had reached within

four miles of the Temple-Court; racking pains shot along his back

and through his limbs, and the excessive anguish which he felt at

heart being now augmented by bodily suffering, he was rendered

altogether incapable of proceeding farther than a small

market-town, were dwelt a Jewish Rabbi of his tribe, eminent in

the medical profession, and to whom Isaac was well known. Nathan

Ben Israel received his suffering countryman with that kindness

which the law prescribed, and which the Jews practised to each

other. He insisted on his betaking himself to repose, and used

such remedies as were then in most repute to check the progress

of the fever, which terror, fatigue, ill usage, and sorrow, had

brought upon the poor old Jew.

On the morrow, when Isaac proposed to arise and pursue his

journey, Nathan remonstrated against his purpose, both as his

host and as his physician. It might cost him, he said, his life.

But Isaac replied, that more than life and death depended upon

his going that morning to Templestowe.

“To Templestowe!” said his host with surprise again felt his

pulse, and then muttered to himself, “His fever is abated, yet

seems his mind somewhat alienated and disturbed.”

“And why not to Templestowe?” answered his patient. “I grant

thee, Nathan, that it is a dwelling of those to whom the despised

Children of the Promise are a stumbling-block and an abomination;

yet thou knowest that pressing affairs of traffic sometimes carry

us among these bloodthirsty Nazarene soldiers, and that we visit

the Preceptories of the Templars, as well as the Commanderies of

the Knights Hospitallers, as they are called.” *

The establishments of the Knight Templars were called Preceptories, and the title of those who presided in the Order was Preceptor; as the principal Knights of Saint John were termed Commanders, and their houses Commanderies. But these terms were sometimes, it would seem, used indiscriminately.

“I know it well,” said Nathan; “but wottest thou that Lucas de

Beaumanoir, the chief of their Order, and whom they term Grand

Master, is now himself at Templestowe?”

“I know it not,” said Isaac; “our last letters from our brethren

at Paris advised us that he was at that city, beseeching Philip

for aid against the Sultan Saladine.”

“He hath since come to England, unexpected by his brethren,” said

Ben Israel; “and he cometh among them with a strong and

outstretched arm to correct and to punish. His countenance is

kindled in anger against those who have departed from the vow

which they have made, and great is the fear of those sons of

Belial. Thou must have heard of his name?”

“It is well known unto me,” said Isaac; “the Gentiles deliver

this Lucas Beaumanoir as a man zealous to slaying for every point

of the Nazarene law; and our brethren have termed him a fierce

destroyer of the Saracens, and a cruel tyrant to the Children of

the Promise.”

“And truly have they termed him,” said Nathan the physician.

“Other Templars may be moved from the purpose of their heart by

pleasure, or bribed by promise of gold and silver; but Beaumanoir

is of a different stamp---hating sensuality, despising treasure,

and pressing forward to that which they call the crown of

martyrdom---The God of Jacob speedily send it unto him, and unto

them all! Specially hath this proud man extended his glove over

the children of Judah, as holy David over Edom, holding the

murder of a Jew to be an offering of as sweet savour as the

death of a Saracen. Impious and false things has he said even of

the virtues of our medicines, as if they were the devices of

Satan---The Lord rebuke him!”

“Nevertheless,” said Isaac, “I must present myself at

Templestowe, though he hath made his face like unto a fiery

furnace seven times heated.”

He then explained to Nathan the pressing cause of his journey.

The Rabbi listened with interest, and testified his sympathy

after the fashion of his people, rending his clothes, and saying,

“Ah, my daughter!---ah, my daughter for the beauty of

Zion for the captivity of Israel!”

“Thou seest,” said Isaac, “how it stands with me, and that I may

not tarry. Peradventure, the presence of this Lucas Beaumanoir,

being the chief man over them, may turn Brian de Bois-Guilbert

from the ill which he doth meditate, and that he may deliver to

me my beloved daughter Rebecca.”

“Go thou,” said Nathan Ben Israel, “and be wise, for wisdom

availed Daniel in the den of lions into which he was cast; and

may it go well with thee, even as thine heart wisheth. Yet, if

thou canst, keep thee from the presence of the Grand Master, for

to do foul scorn to our people is his morning and evening

delight. It may be if thou couldst speak with Bois-Guilbert in

private, thou shalt the better prevail with him; for men say that

these accursed Nazarenes are not of one mind in the Preceptory

---May their counsels be confounded and brought to shame! But do

thou, brother, return to me as if it were to the house of thy

father, and bring me word how it has sped with thee; and well do

I hope thou wilt bring with thee Rebecca, even the scholar of the

wise Miriam, whose cures the Gentiles slandered as if they had

been wrought by necromancy.”

Isaac accordingly bade his friend farewell, and about an hour’s

riding brought him before the Preceptory of Templestowe.

This establishment of the Templars was seated amidst fair meadows

and pastures, which the devotion of the former Preceptor had

bestowed upon their Order. It was strong and well fortified, a

point never neglected by these knights, and which the disordered

state of England rendered peculiarly necessary. Two halberdiers,

clad