license of speech. "I would crave to know, most Reverend Father,
of our valiant brother, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, what he says to these
wondrous accusations, and with what eye he himself now regards his
unhappy intercourse with this Jewish maiden?"

"Brian de Bois-Guilbert," said the Grand Master, "thou hearest the
question which our Brother of Goodalricke desirest thou shouldst answer.
I command thee to reply to him."

Bois-Guilbert turned his head towards the Grand Master when thus
addressed, and remained silent.

"He is possessed by a dumb devil," said the Grand Master. "Avoid thee,
Sathanus!--Speak, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, I conjure thee, by this symbol
of our Holy Order."

Bois-Guilbert made an effort to suppress his rising scorn and
indignation, the expression of which, he was well aware, would have
little availed him. "Brian de Bois-Guilbert," he answered, "replies not,
most Reverend Father, to such wild and vague charges. If his honour be
impeached, he will defend it with his body, and with that sword which
has often fought for Christendom."

"We forgive thee, Brother Brian," said the Grand Master; "though that
thou hast boasted thy warlike achievements before us, is a glorifying of
thine own deeds, and cometh of the Enemy, who tempteth us to exalt our
own worship. But thou hast our pardon, judging thou speakest less of
thine own suggestion than from the impulse of him whom by Heaven's
leave, we will quell and drive forth from our assembly." A glance of
disdain flashed from the dark fierce eyes of Bois-Guilbert, but he made
no reply.--"And now," pursued the Grand Master, "since our Brother of
Goodalricke's question has been thus imperfectly answered, pursue we our
quest, brethren, and with our patron's assistance, we will search to the
bottom this mystery of iniquity.--Let those who have aught to witness of
the life and conversation of this Jewish woman, stand forth before us."
There was a bustle in the lower part of the hall, and when the Grand
Master enquired the reason, it was replied, there was in the crowd a
bedridden man, whom the prisoner had restored to the perfect use of his
limbs, by a miraculous balsam.

The poor peasant, a Saxon by birth, was dragged forward to the bar,
terrified at the penal consequences which he might have incurred by the
guilt of having been cured of the palsy by a Jewish damsel. Perfectly
cured he certainly was not, for he supported himself forward on crutches
to give evide