“It is well thought upon,” replied De Bracy; “I will play my part.”
De Bracy hastily drew his men together and rushed down to the postern-gate, which he caused instantly to be thrown open. Scarce was this done ere the portentous strength of the Black Knight forced his way inward in despite of De Bracy and his followers. Two of the foremost instantly fell, and the rest gave way, notwithstanding all their leader’s efforts to stop them.
“Dogs!” cried De Bracy; “will ye let two men win our only pass for safety?”
“He is the devil!” replied a veteran man-at-arms, bearing back from the blows of their sable antagonist.
“And if he be the devil,” said De Bracy, “would you fly from him into the mouth of hell? The castle burns behind us, villains! Let despair give you courage, or let me forward. I will cope with this champion myself.”
And well and chivalrously did De Bracy that day maintain the fame he had acquired in the civil wars of that dreadful period. The vaulted passages in which the two redoubted champions were now fighting hand to hand rang with the furious blows they dealt each other, De Bracy with his sword, the Black Knight with his ponderous ax. At length the Norman received a blow, which, though its force was partly parried by his shield, descended yet with such violence on his crest that he measured his length on the paved floor.
“Yield thee, De Bracy,” said the Black Knight, stooping over him and holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal poniard with which knights despatched their enemies; “yield thee, Maurice de Bracy, rescue or no rescue, or thou art but a dead man. Speak!”
The gallant Norman, seeing the hopelessness of further resistance, yielded, and was allowed to rise.
“Let me tell thee what it imports thee to know,” he said. “Wilfred of Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will perish in the burning castle without present help.”
“Wilfred of Ivanhoe!” exclaimed the Black Knight. “The life of every man in the castle shall answer if a hair of his head be singed. Show me his chamber!”