"Didst thou not see them, sir?" asked the dying man. "They marched down the road toward the castle."
"Impossible!" cried the marshal. "We didst but ride along that very road and saw no one."
"They marched down toward the castle," gasped the man.
The marshal knit his brows. "Were there many?" he demanded.
"There are few," replied the man-at-arms. "It was but the advance guard of the armies of the sultan."
Just then the volley that laid low the four warders at the castle gate crashed upon the ears of the marshal and his men.
"'Ods blud!" he cried.
"They must have hid themselves in the bush as we passed," exclaimed a knight at the marshal's side, "for of a surety they be there and we be here and there be but one road between."
"There be but four men at the castle gate," said the marshal, "and I did bid them keep the 'cullis up til we returned. God pity me! I have given over the Sepulcher to the Saracens. Slay me, Sir Morley!"
"Nay, man! We need every lance and sword and cross-bow that we may command. This be no time to think of taking thy life when thou canst give it to Our Lord Jesus in defense of His Sepulcher against the infidels!"