But King Richard was gone also, and no one knew whither.
At length it was learned that he had hastened to the
court-yard, summoned to his presence the Jew who had
spoken with Ivanhoe, and after a moment’s speech
with him, had called vehemently to horse, thrown himself
upon a steed, compelled the Jew to mount another,
and set off at a rate, which, according to Wamba, rendered
the old Jew’s neck not worth a penny’s
purchase.
“By my halidome!” said Athelstane, “it
is certain that Zernebock hath possessed himself of
my castle in my absence. I return in my grave-clothes,
a pledge restored from the very sepulchre, and every
one I speak to vanishes as soon as they hear my voice!
—–But it skills not talking of it.
Come, my friends—–such of you as
are left, follow me to the banquet-hall, lest any more
of us disappear—–it is, I trust,
as yet tolerably furnished, as becomes the obsequies
of an ancient Saxon noble; and should we tarry any
longer, who knows but the devil may fly off with the
supper?”
CHAPTER XLIII
Be Mowbray’s sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser’s back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitiff recreant!
Richard ii
Our scene now returns to the exterior of the Castle,
or Preceptory, of Templestowe, about the hour when
the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death
of Rebecca. It was a scene of bustle and life,
as if the whole vicinity had poured forth its inhabitants
to a village wake, or rural feast. But the earnest
desire to look on blood and death, is not peculiar
to those dark ages; though in the gladiatorial exercise
of single combat and general tourney, they were habituated
to the bloody spectacle of brave men falling by each
other’s hands. Even in our own days, when
morals are better understood, an execution, a bruising
match, a riot, or a meeting of radical reformers, collects,
at considerable hazard to themselves, immense crowds
of spectators, otherwise little interested, except
to see how matters are to be conducted, or whether
the heroes of the day are, in the heroic language
of insurgent tailors, flints or dunghills.
The eyes, therefore, of a very considerable multitude,
were bent on the gate of the Preceptory of Templestowe,
with the purpose of witnessing the procession; while
still greater numbers had already surrounded the tiltyard
belonging to that establishment. This enclosure
was formed on a piece of level ground adjoining to
the Preceptory, which had been levelled with care,
for the exercise of military and chivalrous sports.
It occupied the brow of a soft and gentle eminence,
was carefully palisaded around, and, as the Templars
willingly invited spectators to be witnesses of their
skill in feats of chivalry, was amply supplied with
galleries and benches for their use.
On the present occasion, a throne was erected for
the Grand Master at the east end, surrounded with
seats of distinction for the Preceptors and Knights
of the Order. Over these floated the sacred standard,
called “Le Beau-seant”, which was the ensign,
as its name was the battle-cry, of the Templars.
