“The bridge⁠—the bridge which communicates with the castle⁠—have they won that pass?” exclaimed Ivanhoe.

“No,” replied Rebecca, “The Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed⁠—few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle⁠—the shrieks and cries which you hear tell the fate of the others⁠—Alas!⁠—I see it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.”

“What do they now, maiden?” said Ivanhoe; “look forth yet again⁠—this is no time to faint at bloodshed.”

“It is over for the time,” answered Rebecca; “our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mastered, and it affords them so good a shelter from the foemen’s shot, that the garrison only bestow a few bolts on it from interval to interval, as if rather to disquiet than effectually to injure them.”