with each other, which may best tend to bring forth the
truth of the quarrel."

In the meantime, the herald spoke to Rebecca in these terms:--"Damsel,
the Honourable and Reverend the Grand Master demands of thee, if thou
art prepared with a champion to do battle this day in thy behalf, or if
thou dost yield thee as one justly condemned to a deserved doom?"

"Say to the Grand Master," replied Rebecca, "that I maintain my
innocence, and do not yield me as justly condemned, lest I become guilty
of mine own blood. Say to him, that I challenge such delay as his forms
will permit, to see if God, whose opportunity is in man's extremity,
will raise me up a deliverer; and when such uttermost space is passed,
may His holy will be done!" The herald retired to carry this answer to
the Grand Master.

"God forbid," said Lucas Beaumanoir, "that Jew or Pagan should impeach
us of injustice!--Until the shadows be cast from the west to the
eastward, will we wait to see if a champion shall appear for this
unfortunate woman. When the day is so far passed, let her prepare for
death."

The herald communicated the words of the Grand Master to Rebecca, who
bowed her head submissively, folded her arms, and, looking up towards
heaven, seemed to expect that aid from above which she could scarce
promise herself from man. During this awful pause, the voice of
Bois-Guilbert broke upon her ear--it was but a whisper, yet it startled
her more than the summons of the herald had appeared to do.

"Rebecca," said the Templar, "dost thou hear me?"

"I have no portion in thee, cruel, hard-hearted man," said the
unfortunate maiden.

"Ay, but dost thou understand my words?" said the Templar; "for the
sound of my voice is frightful in mine own ears. I scarce know on what
ground we stand, or for what purpose they have brought us hither.--This
listed space--that chair--these faggots--I know their purpose, and yet
it appears to me like something unreal--the fearful picture of a vision,
which appals my sense with hideous fantasies, but convinces not my
reason."

"My mind and senses keep touch and time," answered Rebecca, "and tell
me alike that these faggots are destined to consume my earthly body, and
open a painful but a brief passage to a better world."

"Dreams, Rebecca,--dreams," answered the Templar; "idle visions,
rejected by the wisdom of your own wiser Sadducees. Hear me, Rebecca,"
he said, proceeding with animation; "a better chance hast thou fo