“’Tis well,” said the Prince.—–“Goes
Waldemar forth with them?”
“Instantly,” said Bardon.
“With what attendance?” asked John, carelessly.
“Broad Thoresby goes with him, and Wetheral,
whom they call, for his cruelty, Stephen Steel-heart;
and three northern men-at-arms that belonged to Ralph
Middleton’s gang—–they are called
the Spears of Spyinghow.”
“’Tis well,” said Prince John; then
added, after a moment’s pause, “Bardon,
it imports our service that thou keep a strict watch
on Maurice De Bracy—–so that he shall
not observe it, however—–And let
us know of his motions from time to time —–with
whom he converses, what he proposeth. Fail not
in this, as thou wilt be answerable.”
Hugh Bardon bowed, and retired.
“If Maurice betrays me,” said Prince John—–“if
he betrays me, as his bearing leads me to fear, I
will have his head, were Richard thundering at the
gates of York.”
Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts,
Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey;
Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire
Of wild Fanaticism.
Anonymus
Our tale now returns to Isaac of York.—–Mounted
upon a mule, the gift of the Outlaw, with two tall
yeomen to act as his guard and guides, the Jew had
set out for the Preceptory of Templestowe, for the
purpose of negotiating his daughter’s redemption.
The Preceptory was but a day’s journey from
the demolished castle of Torquilstone, and the Jew
had hoped to reach it before nightfall; accordingly,
having dismissed his guides at the verge of the forest,
and rewarded them with a piece of silver, he began
to press on with such speed as his weariness permitted
him to exert. But his strength failed him totally
ere he had reached within four miles of the Temple-Court;
racking pains shot along his back and through his
limbs, and the excessive anguish which he felt at
heart being now augmented by bodily suffering, he was
rendered altogether incapable of proceeding farther
than a small market-town, were dwelt a Jewish Rabbi
of his tribe, eminent in the medical profession, and
to whom Isaac was well known. Nathan Ben Israel
received his suffering countryman with that kindness
which the law prescribed, and which the Jews practised
to each other. He insisted on his betaking himself
to repose, and used such remedies as were then in
most repute to check the progress of the fever, which
terror, fatigue, ill usage, and sorrow, had brought
upon the poor old Jew.
On the morrow, when Isaac proposed to arise and pursue
his journey, Nathan remonstrated against his purpose,
both as his host and as his physician. It might
cost him, he said, his life. But Isaac replied,
that more than life and death depended upon his going
that morning to Templestowe.
“To Templestowe!” said his host with surprise
again felt his pulse, and then muttered to himself,
“His fever is abated, yet seems his mind somewhat
alienated and disturbed.”
