“I leave it, lady, ere this moon again changes. My father had a brother high in favour with Mohammed Boabdil, King of Grenada ⁠—thither we go, secure of peace and protection, for the payment of such ransom as the Muslim exact from our people.”

“And are you not then as well protected in England ?” said Rowena. “My husband has favour with the King⁠—the King himself is just and generous.”

“Lady,” said Rebecca, “I doubt it not⁠—but the people of England are a fierce race, quarrelling ever with their neighbours or among themselves, and ready to plunge the sword into the bowels of each other. Such is no safe abode for the children of my people. Ephraim is an heartless dove⁠—Issachar an over-laboured drudge, which stoops between two burdens. Not in a land of war and blood, surrounded by hostile neighbours, and distracted by internal factions, can Israel hope to rest during her wanderings.”

“But you, maiden,” said Rowena⁠—“you surely can have nothing to fear. She who nursed the sickbed of Ivanhoe,” she continued, rising with enthusiasm⁠—“she can have nothing to fear in England , where Saxon and Norman will contend who shall most do her honour.”