to state to any inquirers that he was a wounded comrade. This
explanation was now accordingly returned by these men to Front-de-Boeuf,
when, in going the round of the castle, he questioned them why they did
not make for the battlements upon the alarm of the attack.

"A wounded comrade!" he exclaimed in great wrath and astonishment. "No
wonder that churls and yeomen wax so presumptuous as even to lay leaguer
before castles, and that clowns and swineherds send defiances to nobles,
since men-at-arms have turned sick men's nurses. To the battlements, ye
loitering villains!" he cried, raising his [v]stentorian voice till the
arches rang again; "to the battlements, or I will splinter your bones
with this truncheon."

The men, who, like most of their description, were fond of enterprise
and detested inaction, went joyfully to the scene of danger, and the
care of Ivanhoe fell to Rebecca, who occupied a neighboring apartment
and who was not kept in close confinement.

The beautiful young Jewess rejoined the knight, whom she had so signally
befriended, at the moment of the beginning of the attack on the castle.
Ivanhoe, already much better and chafing at his enforced inaction,
resembled the war-horse who scenteth the battle afar.

"If I could but drag myself to yonder window," he said, "that I might
see how this brave game is like to go--if I could strike but a single
blow for our deliverance! It is in vain; I am alike nerveless and
weaponless!"

"Fret not thyself, noble knight," answered Rebecca, "the sounds have
ceased of a sudden. It may be they join not battle."

"Thou knowest naught of it," returned Wilfred, impatiently; "this dead
pause only shows that the men are at their posts on the walls and expect
an instant attack. What we have heard was but the distant muttering of
the storm, which will burst anon in all its fury. Could I but reach
yonder window!"

"Thou wilt injure thyself by the attempt, noble knight," replied the
attendant. Then she added, "I myself will stand at the lattice and
describe to you as I can what passes without."

"You must not; you shall not!" exclaimed Ivanhoe. "Each lattice will
soon be a mark for the archers; some random shaft may strike you. At
least cover thy body with yonder ancient buckler and show as little of
thyself as may be."

Availing herself of the protection of the large, ancient shield, which
she placed against the lower part of the window, Rebecca, with
tolerable security,