We wish to be brief in narrating this part of the gallant hero’s existence; for his life was one of feeling rather than affection, and the description of mere sentiment is considered by many well-informed persons to be tedious.  What were his sentiments now, it may be asked, under the peculiar position in which he found himself?  He had done his duty by Rowena, certainly:  no man could say otherwise.  But as for being in love with her any more, after what had occurred, that was a different question.  Well, come what would, he was determined still to continue doing his duty by her;—­but as she was whisked away the deuce knew whither, how could he do anything?  So he resigned himself to the fact that she was thus whisked away.

He, of course, sent emissaries about the country to endeavor to find out where Rowena was:  but these came back without any sort of intelligence; and it was remarked, that he still remained in a perfect state of resignation.  He remained in this condition for a year, or more; and it was said that he was becoming more cheerful, and he certainly was growing rather fat.  The Knight of the Spectacles was voted an agreeable man in a grave way; and gave some very elegant, though quiet, parties, and was received in the best society of York.

It was just at assize-time, the lawyers and barristers had arrived, and the town was unusually gay; when, one morning, the attorney, whom we have mentioned as Sir Wilfrid’s man of business, and a most respectable man, called upon his gallant client at his lodgings, and said he had a communication of importance to make.  Having to communicate with a client of rank, who was condemned to be hanged for forgery, Sir Roger de Backbite, the attorney said, he had been to visit that party in the condemned cell; and on the way through the yard, and through the bars of another cell, had seen and recognized an old acquaintance of Sir Wilfrid of Ivanhoe—­and the lawyer held him out, with a particular look, a note, written on a piece of whity-brown paper.

What were Ivanhoe’s sensations when he recognized the handwriting of Rowena!—­he tremblingly dashed open the billet, and read as follows:—­

“My dearest Ivanhoe,—­For I am thine now as erst, and my first love was ever—­ever dear to me.  Have I been near thee dying for a whole year, and didst thou make no effort to rescue thy Rowena?  Have ye given to others—­I mention not their name nor their odious creed—­the heart that ought to be mine?  I send thee my forgiveness from my dying pallet of straw.—­I forgive thee the insults I have received, the cold and hunger I have endured, the failing health of my boy, the bitterness of my prison, thy infatuation about that Jewess, which made our married life miserable, and which caused thee, I am sure, to go abroad to look after her.  I forgive thee all my wrongs, and fain would bid thee farewell.  Mr. Smith hath gained over my gaoler—­he will tell thee how I may see thee.  Come and console my last hour by promising that thou wilt care for my boy—­his boy who fell like a hero (when thou wert absent) combating by the side of Rowena.”