Ivanhoe

No fewer than four silver candelabras, holding great waxen torches,

served to illuminate this apartment. Yet let not modern beauty envy the

magnificence of a Saxon princess. The walls of the apartment were so ill

finished and so full of crevices, that the rich hangings shook in the

night blast, and, in despite of a sort of screen intended to protect

them from the wind, the flame of the torches streamed sideways into the

air, like the unfurled pennon of a chieftain. Magnificence there was,

with some rude attempt at taste; but of comfort there was little, and,

being unknown, it was unmissed.

The Lady Rowena, with three of her attendants standing at her back, and

arranging her hair ere she lay down to rest, was seated in the sort of

throne already mentioned, and looked as if born to exact general homage.

The Pilgrim acknowledged her claim to it by a low genuflection.

"Rise, Palmer," said she graciously. "The defender of the absent has

a right to favourable reception from all who value truth, and honour

manhood." She then said to her train, "Retire, excepting only Elgitha; I

would speak with this holy Pilgrim."

The maidens, without leaving the apartment, retired to its further

extremity, and sat down on a small bench against the wall, where they

remained mute as statues, though at such a distance that their whispers

could not have interrupted the conversation of their mistress.

"Pilgrim," said the lady, after a moment's pause, during which she

seemed uncertain how to address him, "you this night mentioned a name--I

mean," she said, with a degree of effort, "the name of Ivanhoe, in

the halls where by nature and kindred it should have sounded most

acceptably; and yet, such is the perverse course of fate, that of many

whose hearts must have throbbed at the sound, I, only, dare ask you

where, and in what condition, you left him of whom you spoke?--We heard,

that, having remained in Palestine, on account of his impaired health,

after the departure of the English army, he had experienced the

persecution of the French faction, to whom the Templars are known to be

attached."

"I know little of the Knight of Ivanhoe," answered the Palmer, with

a troubled voice. "I would I knew him better, since you, lady, are

interested in his fate. He hath, I believe, surmounted the persecution

of his enemies in Palestine, and is on the eve of returning to England,

where you, lady, must know better than I, what is his chance of

happiness."