Waltheof of Templestowe--promise
me one boon!"
"I do," said Ivanhoe, clasping the boy, and thinking it was to that
little innocent the promise was intended to apply.
"By St. Waltheof?"
"By St. Waltheof!"
"Promise me, then," gasped Rowena, staring wildly at him, "that you
never will marry a Jewess?"
"By St. Waltheof," cried Ivanhoe, "this is too much, Rowena!"--But he
felt his hand grasped for a moment, the nerves then relaxed, the pale
lips ceased to quiver--she was no more!
CHAPTER VI.
IVANHOE THE WIDOWER.
Having placed young Cedric at school at the hall of Dotheboyes, in
Yorkshire, and arranged his family affairs, Sir Wilfrid of Ivanhoe
quitted a country which had no longer any charms for him, and in which
his stay was rendered the less agreeable by the notion that King John
would hang him, if ever he could lay hands on the faithful follower of
King Richard and Prince Arthur.
But there was always in those days a home and occupation for a brave and
pious knight. A saddle on a gallant war-horse, a pitched field against
the Moors, a lance wherewith to spit a turbaned infidel, or a road
to Paradise carved out by his scimitar,--these were the height of the
ambition of good and religious warriors; and so renowned a champion as
Sir Wilfrid of Ivanhoe was sure to be well received wherever blows were
stricken for the cause of Christendom.
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