e innocent, the forlorn."

"The better for thee, if it prove so," said the Preceptor; "if no
champion appears, it is not by thy means that this unlucky damsel shall
die, but by the doom of the Grand Master, with whom rests all the blame,
and who will count that blame for praise and commendation."

"True," said Bois-Guilbert; "if no champion appears, I am but a part
of the pageant, sitting indeed on horseback in the lists, but having no
part in what is to follow."

"None whatever," said Malvoisin; "no more than the armed image of Saint
George when it makes part of a procession."

"Well, I will resume my resolution," replied the haughty Templar. "She
has despised me--repulsed me--reviled me--And wherefore should I offer
up for her whatever of estimation I have in the opinion of others?
Malvoisin, I will appear in the lists."

He left the apartment hastily as he uttered these words, and the
Preceptor followed, to watch and confirm him in his resolution; for in
Bois-Guilbert's fame he had himself a strong interest, expecting much
advantage from his being one day at the head of the Order, not to
mention the preferment of which Mont-Fitchet had given him hopes, on
condition he would forward the condemnation of the unfortunate Rebecca.
Yet although, in combating his friend's better feelings, he possessed
all the advantage which a wily, composed, selfish disposition has over
a man agitated by strong and contending passions, it required all
Malvoisin's art to keep Bois-Guilbert steady to the purpose he had
prevailed on him to adopt. He was obliged to watch him closely
to prevent his resuming his purpose of flight, to intercept his
communication with the Grand Master, lest he should come to an open
rupture with his Superior, and to renew, from time to time, the various
arguments by which he endeavoured to show, that, in appearing as
champion on this occasion, Bois-Guilbert, without either accelerating or
ensuring the fate of Rebecca, would follow the only course by which he
could save himself from degradation and disgrace.

CHAPTER XL

Shadows avaunt!--Richard's himself again.
Richard III

When the Black Knight--for it becomes necessary to resume the train of
his adventures--left the Trysting-tree of the generous Outlaw, he held
his way straight to a neighbouring religious house, of small extent
and revenue, called the Priory of Saint Botolph, to which the wounded
Ivanhoe had been removed when the castle