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heir of their founder--me, whom their foundation binds them to pray

for--me--ungrateful villains as they are! --they suffer to die like the

houseless dog on yonder common, unshriven and unhouseled! --Tell the

Templar to come hither--he is a priest, and may do something--But

no! --as well confess myself to the devil as to Brian de Bois-Guilbert,

who recks neither of heaven nor of hell. --I have heard old men talk of

prayer--prayer by their own voice--Such need not to court or to bribe

the false priest--But I--I dare not! "

" Lives Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, " said a broken and shrill voice close by

his bedside, " to say there is that which he dares not! "

The evil conscience and the shaken nerves of Front-de-Boeuf heard, in

this strange interruption to his soliloquy, the voice of one of those

demons, who, as the superstition of the times believed, beset the

beds of dying men to distract their thoughts, and turn them from the

meditations which concerned their eternal welfare. He shuddered and drew

himself together; but, instantly summoning up his wonted resolution, he

exclaimed, " Who is there? --what art thou, that darest to echo my words

in a tone like that of the night-raven? --Come before my couch that I may

see thee. "

" I am thine evil angel, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, " replied the voice.

" Let me behold thee then in thy bodily shape, if thou be'st indeed a

fiend, " replied the dying knight; " think not that I will blench from

thee. --By the eternal dungeon, could I but grapple with these horrors

that hover round me, as I have done with mortal dangers, heaven or hell

should never say that I shrunk from the conflict! "

" Think on thy sins, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, " said the almost unearthly

voice, " on rebellion, on rapine, on murder! --Who stirred up the

licentious John to war against his grey-headed father--against his

generous brother? "

" Be thou fiend, priest, or devil, " replied Front-de-Boeuf, " thou liest

in thy throat! --Not I stirred John to rebellion--not I alone--there were

fifty knights and barons, the flower of the midland counties--better

men never laid lance in rest--And must I answer for the fault done

by fifty? --False fiend, I defy thee! Depart, and haunt my couch no

more--let me die in peace if thou be mortal--if thou be a demon, thy

time is not yet come. "

" In peace thou shalt NOT die, " repeated the voice; " even in death

shalt thou think on thy murders--on the groans which this castle has

echoed--on the blood that is engrained in its floors! "

" Thou canst not shake me by thy petty malice, " answered Front-de-Boeuf,

with a ghastly and constrained laugh. " The infidel Jew--it was merit

with heaven to deal with him as I did, else wherefore are men canonized

who dip their hands in the blood of Saracens? --The Saxon porkers, whom I

have slain, they were the foes of my country, and of my lineage, and

of my liege lord. --Ho! ho! thou seest there is no crevice in my coat of

plate--Art thou fled? --art thou silenced? "

" No, foul parricide! " replied the voice; " think of thy father! --think

of his death! --think of his banquet-room flooded with his gore, and that

poured forth by the hand of a son! "

" Ha! " answered the Baron, after a long pause, " an thou knowest that,

thou art indeed the author of evil, and as omniscient as the monks call

thee! --That secret I deemed locked in my own breast, and in that of one

besides--the temptress, the partaker of my guilt. --Go, leave me, fiend!

and seek the Saxon witch Ulrica, who alone could tell thee what she

and I alone witnessed. --Go, I say, to her, who washed the wounds, and

straighted the corpse, and gave to the slain man the outward show of

one parted in time and in the course of nature--Go to her, she was my

temptress, the foul provoker, the more foul rewarder, of the deed--let

her, as well as I, taste of the tortures which anticipate hell! "

" She already tastes them, " said Ulrica, stepping before the couch of

Front-de-Boeuf; " she hath long drunken of this cup, and its bitterness

is now sweetened to see that thou dost partake it. --Grind not thy teeth,

Front-de-Boeuf--roll not thine eyes--clench not thine hand, nor shake

it at me with that gesture of menace! --The hand which, like that of thy

renowned ancestor who gained thy name, could have broken with one stroke

the skull of a mountain-bull, is now unnerved and powerless as mine

own! "

" Vile murderous hag! " replied Front-de-Boeuf; " detestable screech-owl!

it is then thou who art come to exult over the ruins thou hast assisted

to lay low? "

" Ay, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, " answered she, " it is Ulrica! --it is the

daughter of the murdered Torquil Wolfganger! --it is the sister of his

slaughtered sons! --it is she who demands of thee, and of thy father's

house, father and kindred, name and fame--all that she has lost by the

name of Front-de-Boeuf! --Think of my wrongs, Front-de-Boeuf, and answer

me if I speak not truth. Thou hast been my evil angel, and I will be

thine--I will dog thee till the very instant of dissolution! "

" Detestable fury! " exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf, " that moment shalt thou

never witness--Ho! Giles, Clement, and Eustace! Saint Maur, and Stephen!

seize this damned witch, and hurl her from the battlements headlong--she

has betrayed us to the Saxon! --Ho! Saint Maur! Clement! false-hearted,

knaves, where tarry ye? "

" Call on them again, valiant Baron, " said the hag, with a smile of

grisly mockery; " summon thy vassals around thee, doom them that loiter

to the scourge and the dungeon--But know, mighty chief, " she continued,

suddenly changing her tone, " thou shalt have neither answer, nor aid,

nor obedience at their hands. --Listen to these horrid sounds, " for the

din of the recommenced assault and defence now rung fearfully loud from

the battlements of the castle; " in that war-cry is the downfall of thy

house--The blood-cemented fabric of Front-de-Boeuf's power totters

to the foundation, and before the foes he most despised! --The Saxon,

Reginald! --the scorned Saxon assails thy walls! --Why liest thou here,

like a worn-out hind, when the Saxon storms thy place of strength? "

" Gods and fiends! " exclaimed the wounded knight; " O, for one moment's

strength, to drag myself to the 'melee', and perish as becomes my name! "

" Think not of it, valiant warrior! " replied she; " thou shalt die no

soldier's death, but perish like the fox in his den, when the peasants

have set fire to the cover around it. "

" Hateful hag! thou liest! " exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf; " my followers bear

them bravely--my walls are strong and high--my comrades in arms fear

not a whole host of Saxons, were they headed by Hengist and Horsa! --The

war-cry of the Templar and of the Free Companions rises high over the

conflict! And by mine honour, when we kindle the blazing beacon, for joy

of our defence, it shall consume thee, body and bones; and I shall live

to hear thou art gone from earthly fires to those of that hell, which

never sent forth an incarnate fiend more utterly diabolical! "

" Hold thy belief, " replied Ulrica, " till the proof reach thee--But, no! "

she said, interrupting herself, " thou shalt know, even now, the doom,

which all thy power, strength, and courage, is unable to avoid,

though it is prepared for thee by this feeble band. Markest thou the

smouldering and suffocating vapour which already eddies in sable folds

through the chamber? --Didst thou think it was but the darkening of

thy bursting eyes--the difficulty of thy cumbered breathing? --No!

Front-de-Boeuf, there is another cause--Rememberest thou the magazine of

fuel that is stored beneath these apartments? "

" Woman! " he exclaimed with fury, " thou hast not set fire to it? --By

heaven, thou hast, and the castle is in flames! "

" They are fast rising at least, " said Ulrica, with frightful composure;

" and a signal shall soon wave to warn the besiegers to press hard upon

those who would extinguish them. --Farewell, Front-de-Boeuf! --May Mista,

Skogula, and Zernebock, gods of the ancient Saxons--fiends, as the

priests now call them--supply the place of comforters at your dying bed,

which Ulrica now relinquishes! --But know, if it will give thee comfort

to know it, that Ulrica is bound to the same dark coast with thyself,

the companion of thy punishment as the companion of thy guilt. --And now,

parricide, farewell for ever! --May each stone of this vaulted roof find

a tongue to echo that title into thine ear! "

So saying, she left the apartment; and Front-de-Boeuf could hear the

crash of the ponderous key, as she locked and double-locked the door

behind her, thus cutting off the most slender chance of escape. In the

extremity of agony he shouted upon his servants and allies--" Stephen and

Saint Maur! --Clement and Giles! --I burn here unaided! --To the rescue--to

the rescue, brave Bois-Guilbert, valiant De Bracy! --It is Front-de-Boeuf

who calls! --It is your master, ye traitor squires! --Your ally--your

brother in arms, ye perjured and faithless knights! --all the curses due

to traitors upon your recreant heads, do you abandon me to perish thus

miserably! --They hear me not--they cannot hear me--my voice is lost in

the din of battle. --The smoke rolls thicker and thicker--the fire has

caught upon the floor below--O, for one drought of the air of heaven,

were it to be purchased by instant annihilation! " And in the mad frenzy

of despair, the wretch now shouted with the shouts of the fighters, now

muttered curses on himself, on mankind, and on Heaven itself. --" The red

fire flashes through the thick smoke! " he exclaimed; " the demon marches

against me under the banner of his own element--Foul spirit, avoid! --I

go not with thee without my comrades--all, all are thine, that garrison

these walls--Thinkest thou Front-de-Boeuf will be singled out to go

alone? --No--the infidel Templar--the licentious De Bracy--Ulrica, the

foul murdering strumpet--the men who aided my enterprises--the dog

Saxons and accursed Jews, who are my prisoners--all, all shall attend

me--a goodly fellowship as ever took the downward road--Ha, ha, ha! " and

he laughed in his frenzy till the vaulted roof rang again. " Who laughed

there? " exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf, in altered mood, for the noise of

the conflict did not prevent the echoes of his own mad laughter

from returning upon his ear--" who laughed there? --Ulrica, was it

thou? --Speak, witch, and I forgive thee--for, only thou or the fiend of

hell himself could have laughed at such a moment. Avaunt--avaunt! ---"

But it were impious to trace any farther the picture of the blasphemer

and parricide's deathbed.

CHAPTER XXXI

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,

Or, close the wall up with our English dead.

-------And you, good yeomen,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture--let us swear

That you are worth your breeding.

King Henry V

Cedric, although not greatly confident in Ulrica's message, omitted not

to communicate her promise to the Black Knight and Locksley. They were

well pleased to find they had a friend within the place, who might, in

the moment of need, be able to facilitate their entrance, and readily

agreed with the Saxon that a storm, under whatever disadvantages, ought

to be attempted, as the only means of liberating the prisoners now in

the hands of the cruel Front-de-Boeuf.

" The royal blood of Alfred is endangered, " said Cedric.

" The honour of a noble lady is in peril, " said the Black Knight.

" And, by the Saint Christopher at my baldric, " said the good yeoman,

" were there no other cause than the safety of that poor faithful knave,

Wamba, I would jeopard a joint ere a hair of his head were hurt. "

" And so would I, " said the Friar; " what, sirs! I trust well that a

fool--I mean, d'ye see me, sirs, a fool that is free of his guild and

master of his craft, and can give as much relish and flavour to a cup of

wine as ever a flitch of bacon can--I say, brethren, such a fool shall

never want a wise clerk to pray for or fight for him at a strait, while

I can say a mass or flourish a partisan. " And with that he made his

heavy halberd to play around his head as a shepherd boy flourishes his

light crook.

" True, Holy Clerk, " said the Black Knight, " true as if Saint Dunstan

himself had said it. --And now, good Locksley, were it not well that

noble Cedric should assume the direction of this assault? "

" Not a jot I, " returned Cedric; " I have never been wont to study either

how to take or how to hold out those abodes of tyrannic power, which

the Normans have erected in this groaning land. I will fight among the

foremost; but my honest neighbours well know I am not a trained soldier

in the discipline of wars, or the attack of strongholds. "

" Since it stands thus with noble Cedric, " said Locksley, " I am most

willing to take on me the direction of the archery; and ye shall hang

me up on my own Trysting-tree, an the defenders be permitted to show

themselves over the walls without being stuck with as many shafts as

there are cloves in a gammon of bacon at Christmas. "

" Well said, stout yeoman, " answered the Black Knight; " and if I be

thought worthy to have a charge in these matters, and can find among

these brave men as many as are willing to follow a true English knight,

for so I may surely call myself, I am ready, with such skill as my

experience has taught me, to lead them to the attack of these walls. "

The parts being thus distributed to the leaders, they commenced the

first assault, of which the reader has already heard the issue.

When the barbican was carried, the Sable Knight sent notice of the

happy event to Locksley, requesting him at the same time, to keep such

a strict observation on the castle as might prevent the defenders from

combining their force for a sudden sally, and recovering the outwork

which they had lost. This the knight was chiefly desirous of avoiding,

conscious that the men whom he led, being hasty and untrained

volunteers, imperfectly armed and unaccustomed to discipline, must, upon

any sudden attack, fight at great disadvantage with the veteran soldiers

of the Norman knights, who were well provided with arms both defensive

and offensive; and who, to match the zeal and high spirit of the

besiegers, had all the confidence which arises from perfect discipline

and the habitual use of weapons.

The knight employed the interval in causing to be constructed a sort of

floating bridge, or long raft, by means of which he hoped to cross the

moat in despite of the resistance of the enemy. This was a work of some

time, which the leaders the less regretted, as it gave Ulrica leisure to

execute her plan of diversion in their favour, whatever that might be.

When the raft was completed, the Black Knight addressed the

besiegers: --" It avails not waiting here longer, my friends; the sun is

descending to the west--and I have that upon my hands which will not

permit me to tarry with you another day. Besides, it will be a marvel if

the horsemen come not upon us from York, unless we speedily accomplish

our purpose. Wherefore, one of ye go to Locksley, and bid him commence a

discharge of arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and move forward

as if about to assault it; and you, true English hearts, stand by me,

and be ready to thrust the raft endlong over the moat whenever the

postern on our side is thrown open. Follow me boldly across, and aid me

to burst yon sallyport in the main wall of the castle. As many of you as

like not this service, or are but ill armed to meet it, do you man the

top of the outwork, draw your bow-strings to your ears, and mind you

quell with your shot whatever shall appear to man the rampart--Noble

Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those which remain? "

" Not so, by the soul of Hereward! " said the Saxon; " lead I cannot; but

may posterity curse me in my grave, if I follow not with the foremost

wherever thou shalt point the way--The quarrel is mine, and well it

becomes me to be in the van of the battle. "

" Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon, " said the knight, " thou hast neither

hauberk, nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet, target, and

sword. "

" The better! " answered Cedric; " I shall be the lighter to climb these

walls. And, --forgive the boast, Sir Knight, --thou shalt this day see

the naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever ye

beheld the steel corslet of a Norman. "

" In the name of God, then, " said the knight, " fling open the door, and

launch the floating bridge. "

The portal, which led from the inner-wall of the barbican to the moat,

and which corresponded with a sallyport in the main wall of the castle,

was now suddenly opened; the temporary bridge was then thrust forward,

and soon flashed in the waters, extending its length between the castle

and outwork, and forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men

abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the

foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw

himself upon the bridge, and reached the opposite side. Here he began to

thunder with his axe upon the gate of the castle, protected in part from

the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former

drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the

barbican, leaving the counterpoise still attached to the upper part of

the portal. The followers of the knight had no such shelter; two were

instantly shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the moat;

the others retreated back into the barbican.

The situation of Cedric and of the Black Knight was now truly dangerous,

and would have been still more so, but for the constancy of the

archers in the barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows upon

the battlements, distracting the attention of those by whom they were

manned, and thus affording a respite to their two chiefs from the

storm of missiles which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their

situation was eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every

moment.

" Shame on ye all! " cried De Bracy to the soldiers around him; " do ye

call yourselves cross-bowmen, and let these two dogs keep their station

under the walls of the castle? --Heave over the coping stones from the

battlements, an better may not be--Get pick-axe and levers, and down

with that huge pinnacle! " pointing to a heavy piece of stone carved-work

that projected from the parapet.

At this moment the besiegers caught sight of the red flag upon the angle

of the tower which Ulrica had described to Cedric. The stout yeoman

Locksley was the first who was aware of it, as he was hasting to the

outwork, impatient to see the progress of the assault.

" Saint George! " he cried, " Merry Saint George for England! --To the

charge, bold yeomen! --why leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to

storm the pass alone? --make in, mad priest, show thou canst fight for

thy rosary, --make in, brave yeomen! --the castle is ours, we have friends

within--See yonder flag, it is the appointed signal--Torquilstone is

ours! --Think of honour, think of spoil--One effort, and the place is

ours! "

With that he bent his good bow, and sent a shaft right through the

breast of one of the men-at-arms, who, under De Bracy's direction, was

loosening a fragment from one of the battlements to precipitate on the

heads of Cedric and the Black Knight. A second soldier caught from the

hands of the dying man the iron crow, with which he heaved at and

had loosened the stone pinnacle, when, receiving an arrow through his

head-piece, he dropped from the battlements into the moat a dead man.

The men-at-arms were daunted, for no armour seemed proof against the

shot of this tremendous archer.

" Do you give ground, base knaves! " said De Bracy; " 'Mount joye Saint

Dennis! '--Give me the lever! "

And, snatching it up, he again assailed the loosened pinnacle, which was

of weight enough, if thrown down, not only to have destroyed the remnant

of the drawbridge, which sheltered the two foremost assailants, but also

to have sunk the rude float of planks over which they had crossed. All

saw the danger, and the boldest, even the stout Friar himself, avoided

setting foot on the raft. Thrice did Locksley bend his shaft against De

Bracy, and thrice did his arrow bound back from the knight's armour of

proof.

" Curse on thy Spanish steel-coat! " said Locksley, " had English smith

forged it, these arrows had gone through, an as if it had been silk or

sendal. " He then began to call out, " Comrades! friends! noble Cedric!

bear back, and let the ruin fall. "

His warning voice was unheard, for the din which the knight himself

occasioned by his strokes upon the postern would have drowned twenty

war-trumpets. The faithful Gurth indeed sprung forward on the planked

bridge, to warn Cedric of his impending fate, or to share it with him.

But his warning would have come too late; the massive pinnacle already

tottered, and De Bracy, who still heaved at his task, would have

accomplished it, had not the voice of the Templar sounded close in his

ears: --

" All is lost, De Bracy, the castle burns. "

" Thou art mad to say so! " replied the knight.

" It is all in a light flame on the western side. I have striven in vain

to extinguish it. "

With the stern coolness which formed the basis of his character, Brian

de Bois-Guilbert communicated this hideous intelligence, which was not

so calmly received by his astonished comrade.

" Saints of Paradise! " said De Bracy; " what is to be done? I vow to Saint

Nicholas of Limoges a candlestick of pure gold--"

" Spare thy vow, " said the Templar, " and mark me. Lead thy men down, as

if to a sally; throw the postern-gate open--There are but two men who

occupy the float, fling them into the moat, and push across for the

barbican. I will charge from the main gate, and attack the barbican on

the outside; and if we can regain that post, be assured we shall defend

ourselves until we are relieved, or at least till they grant us fair

quarter. "

" It is well thought upon, " said De Bracy; " I will play my part--Templar,

thou wilt not fail me? "

" Hand and glove, I will not! " said Bois-Guilbert. " But haste thee, in

the name of God! "

De Bracy hastily drew his men together, and rushed down to the

postern-gate, which he caused instantly to be thrown open. But scarce

was this done ere the portentous strength of the Black Knight forced his

way inward in despite of De Bracy and his followers. Two of the foremost

instantly fell, and the rest gave way notwithstanding all their leader's

efforts to stop them.

" Dogs! " said De Bracy, " will ye let TWO men win our only pass for

safety? "

" He is the devil! " said a veteran man-at-arms, bearing back from the

blows of their sable antagonist.

" And if he be the devil, " replied De Bracy, " would you fly from him into

the mouth of hell? --the castle burns behind us, villains! --let despair

give you courage, or let me forward! I will cope with this champion

myself. "

And well and chivalrous did De Bracy that day maintain the fame he had

acquired in the civil wars of that dreadful period. The vaulted passage

to which the postern gave entrance, and in which these two redoubted

champions were now fighting hand to hand, rung with the furious blows

which they dealt each other, De Bracy with his sword, the Black Knight

with his ponderous axe. At length the Norman received a blow, which,

though its force was partly parried by his shield, for otherwise never

more would De Bracy have again moved limb, descended yet with such

violence on his crest, that he measured his length on the paved floor.

" Yield thee, De Bracy, " said the Black Champion, stooping over him, and

holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal poniard with which the

knights dispatched their enemies, (and which was called the dagger of

mercy, )--" yield thee, Maurice de Bracy, rescue or no rescue, or thou art

but a dead man. "

" I will not yield, " replied De Bracy faintly, " to an unknown conqueror.

Tell me thy name, or work thy pleasure on me--it shall never be said

that Maurice de Bracy was prisoner to a nameless churl. "

The Black Knight whispered something into the ear of the vanquished.

" I yield me to be true prisoner, rescue or no rescue, " answered the

Norman, exchanging his tone of stern and determined obstinacy for one of

deep though sullen submission.

" Go to the barbican, " said the victor, in a tone of authority, " and

there wait my further orders. "

" Yet first, let me say, " said De Bracy, " what it imports thee to know.

Wilfred of Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will perish in the

burning castle without present help. "

" Wilfred of Ivanhoe! " exclaimed the Black Knight--" prisoner, and

perish! --The life of every man in the castle shall answer it if a hair

of his head be singed--Show me his chamber! "

" Ascend yonder winding stair, " said De Bracy; " it leads to his

apartment--Wilt thou not accept my guidance? " he added, in a submissive

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