The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling communication made the very vault to ring, and astounded the two Saracens so much that they let go their hold of the victim. He availed himself of his freedom to throw himself on the pavement and clasp the knees of Front-de-Boeuf. "Take all that you have asked," said he--"take ten times more--reduce me to ruin and to beggary, if thou wilt--nay, pierce me with thy poniard, broil me on that furnace, but spare my daughter! Will you deprive me of my sole remaining comfort in life?" "I would," said the Norman, somewhat relenting, "that I had known of this before. I thought you loved nothing but your money-bags." "Think not so vilely of me," returned Isaac, eager to improve the moment of apparent sympathy. "I love mine own, even as the hunted fox, the tortured wildcat loves its young." "Be it so," said Front-de-Boeuf; "but it aids us not now. I cannot help what has happened or what is to follow. My word is passed to my comrade in arms that he shall have the maiden as his share of the spoil, and I would not break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Take thought instead to pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or woe betide thee!" "Robber and villain!" cried the Jew, "I will pay thee nothing--not one silver penny will I pay thee unless my daughter is delivered to me in safety!" "Art thou in thy senses, Israelite?" asked the Norman sternly. "Hast thy flesh and blood a charm against heated iron and scalding oil?" "I care not!" replied the Jew, rendered desperate by paternal affection; "my daughter is my flesh and blood, dearer to me a thousand times than those limbs thy cruelty threatens. No silver will I give thee unless I were to pour it molten down thy [v]avaricious throat--no, not a silver penny will I give thee, [v]Nazarene, were it to save thee from the deep damnation thy whole life has merited. Take my life, if thou wilt, and say that the Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint the Christian." "We shall see that," said Front-de-Boeuf; "for by the blessed [v]rood thou shalt feel the extremities of fire and steel! Strip him, slaves, and chain him down upon the bars." In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the Saracens had already torn from him his upper garment and were proceeding totally to disrobe him, when the sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle, penetrated even to the recesses of the dungeon. Immediately after voices were heard calling for Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf. Unwilling to be found engaged in his hellish occupation, the savage baron gave the slaves a signal to restore Isaac's garment; and, quitting the dungeon with his attendants, he left the Jew to thank God for his own deliverance or to lament over his daughter's captivity, as his personal or parental feelings might prove the stronger. III