“It is—it is—most thankfully—most devoutly acknowledged,” said Rebecca—“it shall be still more so—but not now—for the sake of thy beloved Rachel, father, grant my request—not now!”

“Nay, but,” said Isaac, insisting, “they will deem us more thankless than mere dogs!”

“But thou seest, my dear father, that King Richard is in presence, and that—”

“True, my best—my wisest Rebecca!—Let us hence—let us hence!—Money he will lack, for he has just returned from Palestine, and, as they say, from prison—and pretext for exacting it, should he need any, may arise out of my simple traffic with his brother John. Away, away, let us hence!”

And, hurrying his daughter in his turn, he conducted her from the lists, and, by means of conveyance which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the Rabbi Nathan.

The Jewess, whose fortunes had formed the principal interest of the day, having now retired unobserved, the attention of the populace was transferred to the Black Knight. They now filled the air with “Long life to Richard with the Lion’s Heart, and down with the usurping Templars!”

“Notwithstanding all this lip-loyalty,” said Ivanhoe to the Earl of Essex, “it was well the King took precaution to bring thee with him, noble Earl, and so many of thy trusty followers.”

The Earl smiled and shook his head.

“Gallant Ivanhoe,” said Essex, “dost thou know our master so well, and yet suspect him of taking so wise a precaution! I was drawing towards York, having heard that Prince John was making head there, when I met King Richard, like a true knight-errant, galloping hither to achieve in his own person this adventure of the Templar and the Jewess, with his own single arm. I accompanied him with my band, almost maugre his consent.”

“And what news from York, brave Earl?” said Ivanhoe; “will the rebels bide us there?”

“No more than December’s snow will bide July’s sun,” said the Earl; “they are dispersing; and who should some posting to bring us the news, but John himself?”

“The traitor! the ungrateful, insolent traitor!” said Ivanhoe; “did not Richard order him into confinement?”

“Oh! he received him,” answered the Earl, “as if they had met after a hunting party; and, pointing to me and our men-at-arms, said, ‘Thou seest, brother, I have some angry men with me—thou wert best go to our mother, carry her my duteous affection, and abide with her until men’s minds are pacified.”’

“And this was all he said?” inquired Ivanhoe; “would not any one say that this Prince invites men to treason by his clemency?”

“Just,” replied the Earl, “as the man may be said to invite death, who undertakes to fight a combat, having a dangerous wound unhealed.”

“I forgive thee the jest, Lord Earl,” said Ivanhoe; “but remember, I hazarded but my own life—Richard, the welfare of his kingdom.”

“Those,” replied Essex, “who are specially careless of their own welfare, are seldom remarkably attentive to that of others.—But let us haste to the castle, for Richard meditates punishing some of the subordinate members of the conspiracy, though he has pardoned their principal.”

From the judicial investigations which followed on this occasion, and which are given at length in the Wardour Manuscript, it appears that Maurice de Bracy escaped beyond seas, and went into the service of Philip of France; while Philip de Malvoisin, and his brother Albert, the Preceptor of Templestowe, were