om the first,
"Ivanhoe" has been singularly successful, and it is, and has
been, more popular among English readers than any of the
so-called "Scottish novels." According to Sir Leslie Stephen,
it was Scott's culminating success in the book-selling sense.

_I.--The Hall of Cedric the Saxon_

In the hall of Rotherwood at the centre of the upper table sat Cedric
the Saxon, irritable at the delay of his evening meal, and impatient for
the presence of his favourite clown Wamba, and the return of his
swineherd Gurth. "They have been carried off to serve the Norman lords,"
he exclaimed. "But I will be avenged. Haply they think me old, but they
shall find the blood of Hereward is in the veins of Cedric. Ah, Wilfred,
Wilfred!" he went on in a lower tone, "couldst thou have ruled thine
unreasonable passion, thy father had not been left in his age like the
solitary oak that throws out its shattered branches against the full
sweep of the tempest!"

From his melancholy reflections, Cedric was suddenly awakened by the
blast of a horn.

"To the gate, knaves!" said the Saxon, hastily. "See what tidings that
horn tells us of."

Returning in less than three minutes, a warder announced "that the Prior
Aymer of Jorvank, and the good knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, Commander
of the Order of Knights Templars, with a small retinue, requested
hospitality and lodging for the night, being on their way to a
tournament to be held not far from Ashby-de-la-Zouche."

"Normans both," muttered Cedric; "but, Norman or Saxon, the hospitality
of Rotherwood must not be impeached; they are welcome since they have
chosen to halt; in the quality of guests, even Normans must suppress
their insolence."

The folding doors at the bottom of the hall were cast wide, and preceded
by the major domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing blazing
torches, the guests of the evening entered the apartment, followed by
their attendants, and, at a more humble distance, by a pilgrim, wearing
the sandals and broad hat of the palmer.

No sooner were the guests seated, and the repast about to commence, than
the major domo, or steward, suddenly raising his wand, said
aloud--"Forbear!--Place for the Lady Rowena." A side door at the upper
end of the hall now opened, and Cedric's ward, Rowena, a Saxon lady of
rare beauty and lofty character, entered. All stood up to receive her,
and, as she moved gracefully forward to assume her place at the boa