“In this purse,” said Rebecca, “thou wilt find a hundred. Restore to thy master that which is his due, and enrich thyself with the remainder. Haste⁠—begone⁠—stay not to render thanks! and beware how you pass through this crowded town, where thou mayst easily lose both thy burden and thy life.⁠—Reuben,” she added, clapping her hands together, “light forth this stranger, and fail not to draw lock and bar behind him.” Reuben, a dark-brow’d and black-bearded Israelite , obeyed her summons, with a torch in his hand; undid the outward door of the house, and conducting Gurth across a paved court, let him out through a wicket in the entrance-gate, which he closed behind him with such bolts and chains as would well have become that of a prison.

“By St. Dunstan,” said Gurth, as he stumbled up the dark avenue, “this is no Jewess, but an angel from heaven! Ten zecchins from my brave young master⁠—twenty from this pearl of Zion⁠—Oh, happy day!⁠—Such another, Gurth, will redeem thy bondage, and make thee a brother as free of thy guild as the best. And then do I lay down my swineherd’s horn and staff, and take the freeman’s sword and buckler, and follow my young master to the death, without hiding either my face or my name.”