"Trust not to that, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf; "it were a fatal error. Dost thou think that I who have seen a town sacked, in which thousands perished by sword, by flood, and by fire, will blench from my purpose for the outcries of a single wretch? Be wise, old man; discharge thyself of a portion of thy superfluous wealth; repay to the hands of a Christian a part of what thou hast acquired by [v]usury. Thy cunning may soon swell out once more thy shriveled purse, but neither leech nor medicine can restore thy scorched hide and flesh wert thou once stretched on these bars. Tell down thy [v]ransom, I say, and rejoice that at such a rate thou canst redeem thyself from a dungeon, the secrets of which few have returned to tell. I waste no more words with thee. Choose between thy [v]dross and thy flesh and blood, and as thou choosest so shall it be." "So may Abraham and all the fathers of our people assist me!" said Isaac; "I cannot make the choice because I have not the means of satisfying your [v]exorbitant demand!" "Seize him and strip him, slaves," said the knight. The assistants, taking their directions more from the baron's eye and hand than his tongue, once more stepped forward, laid hands on the unfortunate Isaac, plucked him up from the ground, and holding him between them, waited the hard-hearted baron's further signal. The unhappy man eyed their countenances and that of Front-de-Boeuf in the hope of discovering some symptoms of softening; but that of the baron showed the same cold, half-sullen, half-sarcastic smile, which had been the prelude to his cruelty; and the savage eyes of the Saracens, rolling gloomily under their dark brows, evinced rather the secret pleasure which they expected from the approaching scene than any reluctance to be its agents. The Jew then looked at the glowing furnace, over which he was presently to be stretched, and, seeing no chance of his tormentor's relenting, his resolution gave way. "I will pay," he said, "the thousand pounds of silver--that is, I will pay it with the help of my brethren, for I must beg as a mendicant at the door of our synagogue ere I make up so unheard-of a sum. When and where must it be delivered?" he inquired with a sigh. "Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf. "Weighed it must be--weighed and told down on this very dungeon floor. Thinkest thou I will part with thee until thy ransom is secure?" "Then let my daughter Rebecca go forth to York," said Isaac, "with your safe conduct, noble knight, and so soon as man and horse can return, the treasure--" Here he groaned deeply, but added, after the pause of a few seconds,--"the treasure shall be told down on this floor." "Thy daughter!" said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised. "By Heavens, Isaac, I would I had known of this! I gave yonder black-browed girl to Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, to be his prisoner. She is not in my power."