“No, no—–may Heaven forefend!”
said Isaac; “evil is the hour that let any one
whomsoever into that secret!”
“It is safe with me,” said the Outlaw,
“so be that this thy scroll produce the sum
therein nominated and set down.—–But
what now, Isaac? art dead? art stupefied? hath the
payment of a thousand crowns put thy daughter’s
peril out of thy mind?”
The Jew started to his feet—–“No,
Diccon, no—–I will presently set
forth.—–Farewell, thou whom I may
not call good, and dare not and will not call evil.”
Yet ere Isaac departed, the Outlaw Chief bestowed
on him this parting advice:—–“Be
liberal of thine offers, Isaac, and spare not thy
purse for thy daughter’s safety. Credit
me, that the gold thou shalt spare in her cause, will
hereafter give thee as much agony as if it were poured
molten down thy throat.”
Isaac acquiesced with a deep groan, and set forth
on his journey, accompanied by two tall foresters,
who were to be his guides, and at the same time his
guards, through the wood.
The Black Knight, who had seen with no small interest
these various proceedings, now took his leave of the
Outlaw in turn; nor could he avoid expressing his
surprise at having witnessed so much of civil policy
amongst persons cast out from all the ordinary protection
and influence of the laws.
“Good fruit, Sir Knight,” said the yeoman,
“will sometimes grow on a sorry tree; and evil
times are not always productive of evil alone and
unmixed. Amongst those who are drawn into this
lawless state, there are, doubtless, numbers who wish
to exercise its license with some moderation, and
some who regret, it may be, that they are obliged
to follow such a trade at all.”
“And to one of those,” said the Knight,
“I am now, I presume, speaking?”
“Sir Knight,” said the Outlaw, “we
have each our secret. You are welcome to form
your judgment of me, and I may use my conjectures
touching you, though neither of our shafts may hit
the mark they are shot at. But as I do not pray
to be admitted into your mystery, be not offended
that I preserve my own.”
“I crave pardon, brave Outlaw,” said the
Knight, “your reproof is just. But it may
be we shall meet hereafter with less of concealment
on either side.—–Meanwhile we part
friends, do we not?”
“There is my hand upon it,” said Locksley;
“and I will call it the hand of a true Englishman,
though an outlaw for the present.”
“And there is mine in return,” said the
Knight, “and I hold it honoured by being clasped
with yours. For he that does good, having the
unlimited power to do evil, deserves praise not only
for the good which he performs, but for the evil which
he forbears. Fare thee well, gallant Outlaw!”
Thus parted that fair fellowship; and He of the Fetterlock,
mounting upon his strong war-horse, rode off through
the forest.
