Читать «Айвенго / Ivanhoe» онлайн - страница 29

“That you don’t know me,” said De Bracy, “is my misfortune; yet let me hope that you have heard De Bracy’s name when some herald was talking about brave knights.”

“To heralds and to minstrels, then, leave your fame, Sir Knight,” replied Rowena, “more suiting for their mouths than for your own.”

“Proud maiden,” said irritated De Bracy, – “you will be as proudly treated. Know then, that you will never leave this castle or you will leave it as Maurice de Bracy’s wife. You are proud, Rowena, and you can be a good wife for me. How else can you rise to high honour except for marrying me? How else will you escape from that country farm which is the Saxon’s house?”

“Sir Knight,” replied Rowena, “this farm has been my home since I was little, and, trust me, when I leave it, I will do it with a man who has not learned to despise the house and manners of people dear to me.”

“I understand your hint, lady,” said De Bracy, “but don’t dream that Richard will ever be King again or that Wilfred of Ivanhoe, his knight, will ever be your groom. Know, lady, that this man is in my power, and I can tell Front-de-Boeuf that he is in this castle. Didn’t you know that Wilfred of Ivanhoe travelled in the litter of the Jew?”

“And if he is here,” said Rowena, trying to look calm, “what has he to fear beyond a short imprisonment, and an honourable ransom?”

“Rowena,” said De Bracy, “he stands between Front-de-Boeuf and the land of the barony of Ivanhoe, and one blow of a knife or one mistake of a doctor can remove this obstacle from Front-de-Boeuf’s road. But smile to me, lady, and the wounded champion will be safe.”

“Save him!” said Rowena in terror.

“I can—I will—it is my purpose,” said De Bracy, “but your love must buy his protection.”

“I don’t believe,” answered Rowena, “that you are so wicked.”

“Calm yourself, then, with that belief,” said De Bracy, “until time shall prove it false. Your lover lies wounded in this castle. Cedric also—”

“And Cedric also,” said Rowena, repeating his words; “my noble—my generous guardian!”

“Cedric’s fate also depends on your decision,” said De Bracy.

Rowena couldn’t control herself and burst into tears. De Bracy was embarrassed and touched. He had gone too far to step back, and still he couldn’t look on such a beautiful face in tears. He tried to comfort her, but at that moment he was interrupted by the sound of horn, which at the same time alarmed the other inhabitants of the castle.

* * *

Rebecca was waiting for her fate in a distant and lonely tower. Two soldiers brought her there, and left her in the presence of an old and ugly woman they called Urfried.

“What devil’s deed do they have in mind?” said the old woman, muttering to herself looking at Rebecca, “but it is easy to guess—Bright eyes, black hair, and skin like paper. Owls will be your neighbours, and no one will her your screams. What country are you from? – Why don’t you answer?”

“Be not angry, good mother,” said Rebecca, “tell me what I should expect. Are they going to kill me for my religion? I will die cheerfully.”