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Updated: June 15, 2025
Doucebelle was almost afraid to speak, lest she should say something which might do more harm than good. She only ventured after a pause to remark "Still there are priests." "Yours? I know what they would tell me." Belasez's fervent voice had grown constrained all at once. "Yes, thou dost not believe them, I suppose," said Doucebelle, with a baffled feeling.
In the first place, she could not conceive the idea of prayer without something visible to pray to: and in the second, she had been taught that all Jews and Saracens were idolaters. She was surprised to see the blood rush to Belasez's dark cheek, and the fire flash from her eyes. "Will my damsel allow me to ask what she means? I do not understand."
He was so evidently unwilling to speak, and so regretfully tender, that Belasez's heart warmed, and she lost all her shyness. Of course, she told him more than she otherwise would have done. Belasez denied the existence of any Christian lover, or indeed of any lover at all, with such clear, honest eyes, that Abraham could not but believe her.
One of them was filled with chicken-bones, picked exceedingly clean: the other with a piece of sweet cake, over which had been poured some very hot saline compound which by no means harmonised with the cake, but set Belasez's throat on fire.
But we believe that He is yet to come, and is to be the salvation of Israel. You believe," Belasez's words came slowly, as if dragged from her "that He is come, long ago; and you think He will save all men." "But that is our Lord Christ, surely?" said Margaret. "You call Him so," was Belasez's reply. "But He did come!" said Margaret, in a puzzled tone.
"Belasez, what are your sacred books? You seem to have some." "We gave them to you," was Belasez's reply. "But ye have added to them." "But the Scriptures were given to the Church!" remonstrated Doucebelle with some surprise. "I know not what ye mean by the Church," answered the Jewess. "They were ours, given to our fathers, revealed to them by the Holy One.
"Wilt thou not want to say thy prayers whilst thou art here?" responded Margaret, who was at least as much puzzled as Belasez. "Most certainly! but not to an image!" "Oh, do you Jews sometimes pray without images?" "Does my damsel take us for idolaters?" "Yes, I was always told so," said Margaret, looking astonished. The fire died out of Belasez's eyes.
Belasez's face was more troubled than before. "If thou canst not trust His priests, couldst thou not trust Him?" "Trust whom?" exclaimed Belasez, with her eyes on fire. "O Doucebelle, Doucebelle, I know not how to bear it! I thought I was so strong to stand up against all falsehood and error, and here, one man, with one word, Let me hold my peace.
Intense pride, passionate devotion to her own creed and people, the deepest scorn and loathing for all others, combined to make up the tone of Belasez's "No!" "How very odd!" exclaimed Margaret, looking at her, with an expression of great astonishment upon her own fair, open features. "Is it odd to my damsel? Does she know what her question sounded like, to me?" "Tell me."
Before either could speak further, Belasez had thrown herself on her knees, and flung her arms around Abraham. "O Father, if it be so, speak quickly, and end his agony! For the sake of the righteous Lord, that loveth righteousness, do, do give Father Bruno back his child!" Abraham disengaged himself from Belasez's clinging arms with what seemed almost a shudder.
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