Ivanhoe

"Dog of a Jew!" said Athelstane, whose memory was of that petty

kind which stores up trifles of all kinds, but particularly trifling

offences, "dost not remember how thou didst beard us in the gallery at

the tilt-yard? Fight or flee, or compound with the outlaws as thou dost

list, ask neither aid nor company from us; and if they rob only such

as thee, who rob all the world, I, for mine own share, shall hold them

right honest folk."

Cedric did not assent to the severe proposal of his companion. "We shall

do better," said he, "to leave them two of our attendants and two horses

to convey them back to the next village. It will diminish our strength

but little; and with your good sword, noble Athelstane, and the aid of

those who remain, it will be light work for us to face twenty of those

runagates."

Rowena, somewhat alarmed by the mention of outlaws in force, and so

near them, strongly seconded the proposal of her guardian. But Rebecca

suddenly quitting her dejected posture, and making her way through the

attendants to the palfrey of the Saxon lady, knelt down, and, after the

Oriental fashion in addressing superiors, kissed the hem of Rowena's

garment. Then rising, and throwing back her veil, she implored her

in the great name of the God whom they both worshipped, and by that

revelation of the Law upon Mount Sinai, in which they both believed,

that she would have compassion upon them, and suffer them to go forward

under their safeguard. "It is not for myself that I pray this favour,"

said Rebecca; "nor is it even for that poor old man. I know that to

wrong and to spoil our nation is a light fault, if not a merit, with the

Christians; and what is it to us whether it be done in the city, in the

desert, or in the field? But it is in the name of one dear to many,

and dear even to you, that I beseech you to let this sick person be

transported with care and tenderness under your protection. For, if evil

chance him, the last moment of your life would be embittered with regret

for denying that which I ask of you."

The noble and solemn air with which Rebecca made this appeal, gave it

double weight with the fair Saxon.

"The man is old and feeble," she said to her guardian, "the maiden young

and beautiful, their friend sick and in peril of his life--Jews though

they be, we cannot as Christians leave them in this extremity. Let them

unload two of the sumpter-mules, and put the baggage behind two of the

serfs. The mules may transport the litter, and we have led horses for

the old man and his daughter."