"He blenches not! he blenches not!" said Rebecca; "I see him now: he leads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbacan.
They pull down the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes.
His high black plume floats abroad over the throng like a raven over the field of the slain.
They have made a breach in the barriers, they rush in, they are thrust back! Front de Boeuf heads the defenders.
I see his gigantic form above the press.
They throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed, hand to hand, and man to man.
God of Jacob! it is the meeting of two fierce tides, the conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds;"
and she turned her head from the window as if unable longer to endure a sight so terrible.
Speedily recovering her self-control, Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed, "Holy prophets of the law!
Front de Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife.
Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed and of the captive!"
She then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed, "He is down! he is down!"
"Who is down!" cried Ivanhoe; "for our dear Lady's sake, tell me which has fallen!"
"The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly;