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Updated: June 13, 2025
Call thy father and Delecresse, breakfast will be ready by the time they are." Breakfast was half over when Licorice inquired of her daughter whom she had seen at Bury Castle. "Oh! to speak to, only the Countess and her daughter, Damsel Margaret, and the other young damsels, Doucebelle, Eva, and Marie; and Levina, the Lady's dresser.
Delecresse despised himself for the words he used. A son of Israel to humble himself thus to one of the Goyim! But it was expedient that the "creeping thing" should be flattered and gratified, in order to induce him to act as a tool. "Decidedly!" replied Sir Piers, looking fixedly at Delecresse. "Your Honour hates Sir Hubert of Kent, or I am mistaken?" "Ha, pure foy! Worse than I hate the Devil."
What did Delecresse know of the momentary pang of sensation which had pricked that hard, seared heart, as for one second memory brought before him the loving face of a little child, over whose fair head for thirty years the churchyard daisies had been blooming?
"One has fallen in that massacre, very dear to thee and me, my daughter." "Delecresse?" She thought him the most likely to be in London of any of the family. "No. Delecresse is safe, so far as I know." "Is it Uncle Moss? or Levi my cousin?" "Beatrice, it is Abraham the son of Ursel, the father of us all." The low cry of utter desolation which broke from the girl's lips was pitiful to hear.
A few minutes later Delecresse found himself in the street. He was conscious of a very peculiar and highly uncomfortable mixture of feelings, as if one part of his nature were purely angelic, and the other absolutely diabolical. He felt almost as if he had come direct from a personal interview with Satan, and his spirit had been soiled and degraded by the contact.
Beatrice was just about to say that she could not tell, when she looked up and saw him. The greeting between Abraham and Bruno was very cordial now. Bruno smiled gravely when he heard of the further exploits of Licorice with the broom; but a very sad, almost stern, expression came into his eyes, when he was told the discovery concerning Delecresse. "Keep it quiet, my father," he said.
Belasez's pleading looks, and Margaret's bright, pretty face, persisted in recurring to his memory in a very provoking manner. Sir Piers was evidently the man who would help him to forget them. "Well! go on," said the Minister, when Delecresse hesitated.
Moreover, the day was coming when their positions should be reversed; and who could say how near it was at hand? Then the proud Christian noble would be the slave of the despised Jew pedlar, and thought Delecresse, grinding his teeth he at least would take care that the Christian slave should indulge no mistakes on that point. To both the youths Satan was whispering, and by both he was obeyed.
Then he turned and looked fixedly at Richard, who was watching him with an amused face. "That wasn't a bad shot, was it?" cried the younger lad. "Thank you," was the answer of Delecresse. "I shall know you again!" The affront was a boyish freak, perpetrated rather in thoughtlessness than malice: but the tone of the answer, however simple the words, manifestly breathed revenge.
Again that look of intense pain crossed Bruno's face. "No wonder!" he said, speaking not to Belasez. "The very face the very look! No wonder! And thy mother?" "My mother is Licorice, the daughter of Kokorell of Lincoln." Bruno gave a little nod, as if he had known it before. "Hast thou any brethren or sisters?" "One brother only; his name is Delecresse."
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