the Palmer was following a servant down the corridor they met a servant of Rowena, who said in a tone of authority that her mistress wanted to speak with the Palmer. She led him to a big and richly decorated room, where Rowena was preparing for sleep. The Palmer bowed.
“Rise, Palmer,” said Rowena graciously. “The defender of the absent has a right to favourable reception from all who value truth. Can you tell me anything about the knight of Ivanhoe?”
“I know little about this knight,” answered the Palmer. “I believe he is going to return to England soon, where you, lady, must know better than I, what is his chance of happiness.” The Lady Rowena sighed deeply.
“I wish,” said the Lady Rowena, “he were here and able to take part in the approaching tournament. If Athelstane of Coningsburgh wins the prize, Ivanhoe will hear bad news when he arrives in England. Thanks, good Palmer, for your information about the companion of my childhood”.
The Palmer bowed again, and went out of the apartment.
In the corridor he found the servant, who conducted him to that part of the building, where there was a number of small apartments for servants and travellers of lower status.
“Where does the Jew sleep?” asked the Palmer.
“In the room on your left,” answered the servant.
“And where does Gurth the swineherd sleep?” asked the stranger.
“Gurth,” replied the servant, “sleeps in the room on your right.”
The Palmer took the torch from the domestic’s hand, thanked him, and wished him good-night.
The Palmer woke up with sunrise, said his prayers, left his room and entered the room of Isaac the Jew. The Jew was sleeping with a worried face. His hands and arms were moving convulsively, as if struggling with the nightmare.
The Palmer touched him with his staff. The old man woke up, his grey hair standing almost erect upon his head.
“Don’t fear me, Isaac,” said the Palmer, “I come as your friend.”
“May the God of Israel bless you,” said the Jew, greatly relieved. Then, collecting himself, he added in his usual tone, “And what do you want at so early an hour with the poor Jew?”
“I want to tell you,” said the Palmer, “that if you don’t leave this mansion at once, your journey may become dangerous. When the Templar crossed the hall yesterday night, he spoke to his Muslim slaves in the Saracen language, which I understand, and told them to catch the Jew on the road and bring him to the castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf.”
It is impossible to describe the terror which seized upon the Jew at this information.
“Holy God of Abraham!” cried he, raising his wrinkled hands, “Oh, holy Moses! Oh, blessed Aaron! They are going to torture me!”
“Isaac, listen to me,” said the Palmer, who watched the old man’s distress with compassion, “you have a reason to be afraid, but calm down, and I will show you how to escape. Leave this mansion right now, while everybody is asleep. I will guide you by the secret roads of the forest and I will not leave you until you are safe. Or, if you don’t trust me, you can remain here—Cedric the Saxon will protect you.”
“Oh, he will not let me go with him!” said the Jew, “Saxon or Norman will be equally ashamed of the poor Israelite, and I cannot travel alone—Good man, I will go with you! Let us hurry!”
“We will go now,” said the Palmer, “but I must find us a way out, follow me.”
He went to the small room next door, which was occupied by Gurth the swineherd. – ”Wake up, Gurth,” said the Palmer, “wake up now. Open the small gate, and let out the Jew and me.”
Gurth was offended at the familiar and commanding tone in which the Palmer spoke.
“Both Jew and yourself must wait until the big gate is open—we don’t let our visitors out in secret.”
“Still,” said the Palmer, “you will do it for me.”
So saying, the Palmer leaned and whispered something in swineherd’s ear in Saxon. Gurth jumped up as if electrified. The Palmer raised his finger and added, “Gurth, be careful. I say, open the small gate and give us two mules—you will know more soon.”
Gurth hurried to obey him.
“I wish I knew,” said Wamba, who was watching this scene, when his friend left, “what you Palmers learn in the Holy Land.”
“To say our prayers, fool,” answered the Palmer.
“Something more powerful than that,” answered the Jester; “for when did a prayer make Gurth do something?”
At this moment Gurth came back with two mules and let the travellers out. When the travellers were mounting the mules, the Palmer reached his hand to Gurth, who kissed it.
The swineherd stood gazing after the travellers until they were lost in the forest.
“You know,” said Wamba, “my good friend Gurth, that you are strangely polite on this summer morning? I wish I were a monk – I would get much more from you than a kiss of the hand.”
Meanwhile the travellers went through the forest in a great hurry. After some time they paused at the top of a hill, and the Palmer said, pointing to the town which lay beneath them, “This is the town of Sheffield, where you can easily find many of your people who will accept you. Here we part.”
“Not until you have the poor Jew’s thanks,” said Isaac.
“I don’t want any reward,” answered the Palmer.
“Stay, stay,” said the Jew, “the Jew is poor—yes, Isaac is the beggar of his tribe—but forgive me if I guess what you need most at this moment. You wish even now for a horse and armour.”
The Palmer stopped, and turned suddenly towards the Jew. – “How did you guess?” said he, hastily.
“Well,” said the Jew, smiling, “I’ve heard it in your voice and I have seen a knight’s chain hidden under the dress of the Palmer. I know what you want and I can supply it.” Isaac wrote a note and gave it to the Palmer, saying, “In the town of Leicester all men know the rich Jew Kirjath Jairam of Lombardy, give him this scroll and he will give you a horse and the armour you need. After the tournament you will return them safely—unless you have the money to pay for them.”
“Thank you,” said the Palmer, and they parted and took different roads for the town of Sheffield.
Near the town of Ashby there was a large field which was a perfect place for the tournament. A long space surrounded by a wooden palisade formed the lists. There were two entrances: at the southern and at the northern ends of the enclosed space.
On a platform beyond the southern entrance there were five big tents of the five knights-challengers. Before each tent lay the shield of the knight by whom it was occupied. The central tent, as the place of honour, had been assigned to Brian be Bois-Guilbert, who was the leader of the challengers.
The northern entrance to the lists was prepared for those knights who wanted to enter the lists with
