Ivanhoe Walter Scott (best desktop ebook reader .TXT) 📖

five to one they may be accessible by a sudden and bold attack. Time wears⁠—away with thee.”

“And, in the meantime,” said Locksley, “we will beset the place so closely, that not so much as a fly shall carry news from thence. So that, my good friend,” he continued, addressing Wamba, “thou mayst assure these tyrants, that whatever violence they exercise on the persons of their prisoners, shall be most severely repaid upon their own.”

“Pax vobiscum,” said Wamba, who was now muffled in his religious disguise.

And so saying he imitated the solemn and stately deportment of a friar, and departed to execute his mission.

XXVI

The hottest horse will oft be cool,
The dullest will show fire;
The friar will often play the fool,
The fool will play the friar.

Old Song

When the Jester, arrayed in the cowl and frock of the hermit, and having his knotted cord twisted round his middle, stood before the portal of the castle of Front-de-Boeuf, the warder demanded of him his name and errand.

“Pax vobiscum,” answered the Jester, “I am a poor brother of the Order of St. Francis, who come hither to do my office to certain unhappy prisoners now secured within this castle.”

“Thou art a bold friar,” said the warder, “to come hither, where, saving our own drunken confessor, a cock of thy feather hath not crowed these twenty years.”

“Yet I pray thee, do mine errand to the lord of the castle,” answered the pretended friar; “trust me it will find good acceptance with him, and the cock shall crow, that the whole castle shall hear him.”

“Gramercy,” said the warder; “but if I come to shame for leaving my post upon thine errand, I will try whether a friar’s grey gown be proof against a grey-goose shaft.”

With this threat he left his turret, and carried to the hall of the castle his unwonted intelligence, that a holy friar stood before the gate and demanded instant admission. With no small wonder he received his master’s commands to admit the holy man immediately; and, having previously manned the entrance to guard against surprise, he obeyed, without further scruple, the commands which he had received. The harebrained self-conceit which had emboldened Wamba to undertake this dangerous office, was scarce sufficient to support him when he found himself in the presence of a man so dreadful, and so much dreaded, as Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, and he brought out his pax vobiscum, to which he, in a good measure, trusted for supporting his character, with more anxiety and hesitation than had hitherto accompanied it. But Front-de-Boeuf was accustomed to see men of all ranks tremble in his presence, so that the timidity of the supposed father did not give him any cause of suspicion.

“Who and whence art thou, priest?” said he.

“Pax vobiscum,” reiterated the Jester, “I am a poor servant of St. Francis, who, travelling through this wilderness, have fallen among thieves, (as Scripture hath it,) quidam viator incidit in latrones, which thieves have sent me unto this castle in order to do my ghostly office on two persons condemned by your honourable justice.”

“Ay, right,” answered Front-de-Boeuf; “and canst thou tell me, holy father, the number of those banditti?”

“Gallant sir,” answered the Jester, “nomen illis legio, their name is legion.”

“Tell me in plain terms what numbers there are, or, priest, thy cloak and cord will ill protect thee.”

“Alas!” said the supposed friar, “cor meum eructavit, that is to say, I was like to burst with fear! but I conceive they may be⁠—what of yeomen⁠—what of commons, at least five hundred men.”

“What!” said the Templar, who came into the hall that moment, “muster the wasps so thick here? it is time to stifle such a mischievous brood.” Then taking Front-de-Boeuf aside “Knowest thou the priest?”

“He is a stranger from a distant convent,” said Front-de-Boeuf; “I know him not.”

“Then trust him not with thy purpose in words,” answered the Templar. “Let him carry a written order to De Bracy’s company of Free Companions, to repair instantly to their master’s aid. In the meantime, and that the shaveling may suspect nothing, permit him to go freely about his task of preparing these Saxon hogs for the slaughterhouse.”

“It shall be so,” said Front-de-Boeuf. And he forthwith appointed a domestic to conduct Wamba to the apartment where Cedric and Athelstane were confined.

The impatience of Cedric had been rather enhanced than diminished by his confinement. He walked from one end of the hall to the other, with the attitude of one who advances to charge an enemy, or to storm the breach of a beleaguered place, sometimes ejaculating to himself, sometimes addressing Athelstane, who stoutly and stoically awaited the issue of the adventure, digesting, in the meantime, with great composure, the liberal meal which he had made at noon, and not greatly interesting himself about the duration of his captivity, which he concluded, would, like all earthly evils, find an end in Heaven’s good time.

“Pax vobiscum,” said the Jester, entering the apartment; “the blessing of St. Dunstan, St. Dennis, St. Duthoc, and all other saints whatsoever, be upon ye and about ye.”

“Enter freely,” answered Cedric to the supposed friar; “with what intent art thou come hither?”

“To bid you prepare yourselves for death,” answered the Jester.

“It is impossible!” replied Cedric, starting. “Fearless and wicked as they are, they dare not attempt such open and gratuitous cruelty!”

“Alas!” said the Jester, “to restrain them by their sense of humanity, is the same as to stop a runaway horse with a bridle of silk thread. Bethink thee, therefore, noble Cedric, and you also, gallant Athelstane, what crimes you have committed in the flesh; for this very day will ye be called to answer at a higher tribunal.”

“Hearest thou this, Athelstane?” said Cedric; “we must rouse up our hearts to this last action, since better it is we should die like men, than live like slaves.”

“I am ready,” answered Athelstane, “to stand the worst of their malice, and shall walk to my death with as