acked by the royal army. No one was of
real service in the way of fighting except Ivanhoe,--and how could he
take up that cause? "No; be hanged to me," said the knight bitterly.
"This is a quarrel in which I can't interfere. Common politeness
forbids. Let yonder ale-swilling Athelstane defend his,--ha,
ha!--_wife_; and my Lady Rowena guard her,--ha, ha!--_son_!" and he
laughed wildly and madly.

But Athelstane is killed,--this time in earnest,--and then Ivanhoe
rushes to the rescue. He finds Gurth dead at the park-lodge, and though
he is all alone,--having outridden his followers,--he rushes up the
chestnut avenue to the house, which is being attacked. "An Ivanhoe! an
Ivanhoe!" he bellowed out with a shout that overcame all the din of
battle;--"Notre Dame a la recousse?" and to hurl his lance through the
midriff of Reginald de Bracy, who was commanding the assault,--who fell
howling with anguish,--to wave his battle-axe over his own head, and to
cut off those of thirteen men-at-arms, was the work of an instant. "An
Ivanhoe! an Ivanhoe!" he still shouted, and down went a man as sure as
he said "hoe!"

Nevertheless he is again killed by multitudes, or very nearly,--and has
again to be cured by the tender nursing of Wamba. But Athelstane is
really dead, and Rowena and the boy have to be found. He does his duty
and finds them,--just in time to be present at Rowena's death. She has
been put in prison by king John, and is in extremis when her first
husband gets to her. "Wilfrid, my early loved,"[6] slowly gasped she
removing her gray hair from her furrowed temples, and gazing on her boy
fondly as he nestled on Ivanhoe's knee,--"promise me by St. Waltheof of
Templestowe,--promise me one boon!"

"I do," said Ivanhoe, clasping the boy, and thinking that it was to that
little innocent that the promise was intended to apply.

"By St. Waltheof?"

"By St. Waltheof!"

"Promise me then," gasped Rowena, staring wildly at him, "that you will
never marry a Jewess!"

"By St. Waltheof!" cried Ivanhoe, "but this is too much," and he did not
make the promise.

"Having placed young Cedric at school at the Hall of Dotheboys, in
Yorkshire, and arranged his family affairs, Sir Wilfrid of Ivanhoe
quitted a country which had no longer any charm for him, as there was no
fighting to be done, and in which his stay was rendered less agreeable
by the notion that king John would hang him." So he goes forth and
fights again, in league with the