“Be it so, kind maiden,” said Ivanhoe; “I were most ungrateful to dispute thy commands. But one word of the fate of poor Gurth, and I have done with questioning thee.”
“I grieve to tell thee, Sir Knight,” answered the Jewess, “that he is in custody by the order of Cedric.”—And then observing the distress which her communication gave to Wilfred, she instantly added, “But the steward Oswald said, that if nothing occurred to renew his master’s displeasure against him, he was sure that Cedric would pardon Gurth, a faithful serf, and one who stood high in favour, and who had but committed this error out of the love which he bore to Cedric’s son. And he said, moreover, that he and his comrades, and especially Wamba the Jester, were resolved to warn Gurth to make his escape by the way, in case Cedric’s ire against him could not be mitigated.”
“Would to God they may keep their purpose!” said Ivanhoe; “but it seems as if I were destined to bring ruin on whomsoever hath shown kindness to me. My king, by whom I was honoured and distinguished, thou seest that the brother most indebted to him is raising his arms to grasp his crown;—my regard hath brought restraint and trouble on the fairest of her sex;—and now my father in his mood may slay this poor bondsman but for his love and loyal service to me!—Thou seest, maiden, what an ill-fated wretch thou dost labour to assist; be wise, and let me go, ere the misfortunes which track my footsteps like slot-hounds, shall involve thee also in their pursuit.”
“Nay,” said Rebecca, “thy weakness and thy grief, Sir Knight, make thee miscalculate the purposes of Heaven. Thou hast been restored to thy country when it most needed the assistance of a strong hand and a true