'Boys,' said he, 'this crusade, as I foresaw, has resulted in naught save disaster, and, as fighting men, it behoves us to consider whither we are now to carry our swords. For my part, I am resolved to turn the gifts of the Tartar warrior into money, and make without delay for Constantinople, and fight for the Latin Emperor. Are you willing to accompany me and share my fortunes, or must we part?'

'In truth, sir knight,' replied Walter, frankly, 'I sigh for the green fields and the oak forests of my native land; and, therefore, I would fain embark with the army of King Louis, and return to Europe.'

'As you will, sir squire,' said Bisset, a little mortified: 'albeit, I cannot but deem that you are not moved so much by the desire to visit your native land, as to be near to a certain noble demoiselle, on whose gratitude you have some claims. Well, on my life, I blame you not; for at your age I might have felt as you do, and, mayhap, lived to repent my delusion. But, be it known to you that, as matters stand, the Sultan of Damascus has intimated that he will permit any of the pilgrims to visit Jerusalem. Now, have you the courage—for courage will be needed—to enter the Holy City, held as it is by fierce Saracens, and kneel at the Holy Sepulchre?'

'By Holy Katherine, sir knight!' exclaimed Walter, bluntly, 'you must hold me excused. Happy, indeed, should I deem myself in the privilege of kneeling at the Holy Sepulchre, even at the cost of much labour and fatigue. But these are not the days of Godfrey and the Baldwins; and I care not to trust to the tender mercies of Bibars Bendocdar and his Mameluke myrmidons. I will not needlessly put my head again into the lion's mouth.'

'And what say you on the point, my gay and puissant warrior?' asked Bisset, turning to Guy Muschamp.

'Oh,' answered Guy, merrily, 'as says the good Walter, so say I, neither to Jerusalem nor to Constantinople do I go. I have a father and mother and kindred at home, whose faces I long to see. Wherefore, I go to England, and to no other place.'

Walter Espec sighed, as he was in the habit of doing, at the mention of kindred, and gave himself up to painful reminiscences.

'Sir knight,' said he, addressing Bisset, after a long silence, 'deem you that my lost brother can be in the hands of him who is known as the Old Man of the Mountains?'

'What!' exclaimed Bisset, 'rearing as an assassin? The saints forefend!'

'It is strange,' said Walter, after a pause, 'that I have begun to hope better things; for, as I lay asleep last night, methought I saw him in the flesh, and that he looked high and brave, and that he told me how the blessed Katherine had preserved him from evil.'