"Speak not so, my dear father," replied Rebecca; "we may not indeed mix
with them in banquet and in jollity; but in wounds and in misery, the
Gentile becometh the Jew's brother."

"I would I knew what the Rabbi Jacob Ben Tudela would opine on it,"
replied Isaac;--"nevertheless, the good youth must not bleed to death.
Let Seth and Reuben bear him to Ashby."

"Nay, let them place him in my litter," said Rebecca; "I will mount one
of the palfreys."

"That were to expose thee to the gaze of those dogs of Ishmael and of
Edom," whispered Isaac, with a suspicious glance towards the crowd of
knights and squires. But Rebecca was already busied in carrying her
charitable purpose into effect, and listed not what he said, until
Isaac, seizing the sleeve of her mantle, again exclaimed, in a hurried
voice--"Beard of Aaron!--what if the youth perish!--if he die in our
custody, shall we not be held guilty of his blood, and be torn to pieces
by the multitude?"

"He will not die, my father," said Rebecca, gently extricating herself
from the grasp of Isaac "he will not die unless we abandon him; and if
so, we are indeed answerable for his blood to God and to man."

"Nay," said Isaac, releasing his hold, "it grieveth me as much to see
the drops of his blood, as if they were so many golden byzants from mine
own purse; and I well know, that the lessons of Miriam, daughter of the
Rabbi Manasses of Byzantium whose soul is in Paradise, have made thee
skilful in the art of healing, and that thou knowest the craft of herbs,
and the force of elixirs. Therefore, do as thy mind giveth thee--thou
art a good damsel, a blessing, and a crown, and a song of rejoicing unto
me and unto my house, and unto the people of my fathers."