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The Templar left. Rebecca re-entered the room and gave thanks to the God of Jacob for His protection. She also prayed for the safety of her father and the wounded Christian, who was in the hands of his enemies.

* * *

The Templar met De Bracy in the hall of the castle. “You too,” said De Bracy, “have been disturbed, I suppose, by this sound. But you have come later and more reluctantly, and therefore I presume your interview was more pleasant than mine.”

“Have you been unsuccessful?” said the Templar.

“The Lady Rowena must have heard that I cannot endure the sight of women’s tears,” – answered De Bracy.

“And I have never met a woman more proud that this Jewish girl. But where is Front-de-Boeuf? That horn gets louder and louder.”

Soon Front-de-Boeuf joined them.

“Let us see the reason for this noise,” said Front-de-Boeuf, “here is a letter, and, if I am right, it is in Saxon.”

He looked at it, turning it round and round, and then handed it to De Bracy.

“It may be magic spells, I don’t know,” said De Bracy, who couldn’t read as well.

“Give it to me,” said the Templar. “We are half-priests and have some knowledge in addition to bravery. This is a formal letter of challenge, but it is extraordinary if it’s not a joke!”

“A joke!” said Front-de-Boeuf, “I want to know who jokes with me! – Read it, Sir Brian.”

The Templar read the following letter – ”I, Wamba, the son of Witless, Jester to a noble man, Cedric of Rotherwood, called the Saxon, – And I, Gurth, the son of Beowulph, the swineherd of the same person, with the help of our allies and confederates the Black Knight and the stout yeoman Robert Locksley demand that you, Reginald Front de-Boeuf, give freedom to Cedric of Rotherwood, lady Rowena, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, their servants, Isaac the Jew and his daughter. If you do not do so, we will treat you as a robber and fight you to your destruction.”

The knights heard this strange document read from end to end, and then gazed upon each other in silent amazement. De Bracy was the first to break silence by an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Stop laughing, sir,” said Front-de-Boeuf, “There are at least two hundred men assembled in the woods.”

“Shame on you, Sir Knight!” said the Templar. “Let us call our people, and attack them. One knight is enough for twenty peasants.”

“Not in the forest,” answered Front-de-Boeuf. “Attack? We don’t even have enough men to defend the castle. The best of mine are at York; and there is all your band, De Bracy. We don’t have more than thirty.”

“Send to your neighbours,” said the Templar.

“They are all at York,” answered the baron.

“Then send to York,” said De Bracy.

“And who will bear such a message?” said Front-de-Boeuf; “these robbers will catch the messenger and kill him. But I have an idea: Sir Templar, write an answer to this letter. Tell them that we are going to kill our prisoners and ask to send us a priest who can receive their last confession.”