“Holy Abraham!” he exclaimed, “he is a good youth, and my heart bleeds to see the gore trickle down his rich embroidered hacqueton, and his corslet of goodly price⁠—but to carry him to our house!⁠—damsel, hast thou well considered?⁠—he is a Christian, and by our law we may not deal with the stranger and Gentile, save for the advantage of our commerce.”

“Speak not so, my dear father,” replied Rebecca; “we may not indeed mix with them in banquet and in jollity; but in wounds and in misery, the Gentile becometh the Jew’s brother.”

“I would I knew what the Rabbi Jacob Ben Tudela would opine on it,” replied Isaac;⁠—“nevertheless, the good youth must not bleed to death. Let Seth and Reuben bear him to Ashby .”

“Nay, let them place him in my litter,” said Rebecca; “I will mount one of the palfreys.”

“That were to expose thee to the gaze of those dogs of Ishmael and of Edom,” whispered Isaac, with a suspicious glance towards the crowd of knights and squires. But Rebecca was already busied in carrying her charitable purpose into effect, and listed not what he said, until Isaac, seizing the sleeve of her mantle, again exclaimed, in a hurried voice⁠—“Beard of Aaron!⁠—what if the youth perish!⁠—if he die in our custody, shall we not be held guilty of his blood, and be torn to pieces by the multitude?”

“He will not die, my father,” said Rebecca, gently extricating herself from the grasp of Isaac “he will not die unless we abandon him; and if so, we are indeed answerable for his blood to God and to man.”