Redeemer of the human race has
hallowed by His passion, has purchased by His blood, has distinguished
by His burial. She now demands of you her deliverance. Men of France,
men from beyond the mountains, nations chosen and beloved of God, right
valiant knights, recall the virtues and greatness of Charlemagne and
your other kings. It is from you, above all, that Jerusalem awaits the
help she invokes, for to you, above all, has God given glory in arms.
Take ye, therefore, the road to Jerusalem for the remission of your
sins,--for all sins shall be forgiven to the warrior of Christ,--and
depart assured of the deathless glory that awaits ye in the kingdom of
heaven!"

As the Pope ceased speaking, the people cried aloud in wild
enthusiasm,--

"The cross! the cross! Give us the cross!"

Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, was first to receive the holy symbol. Then all
the multitude, pressing eagerly forward, received from Pope or priest a
red cross of silk or cloth. Fastened on shoulder or breast, it
henceforth stamped the wearer as one sworn to fight for the delivery of
the Holy Land,--a Crusader.

In the throng surrounding the platform on which stood the Pope, Peter
the Hermit, and many princes of the Church, was a certain young knight.
His dress betokened high station. He bore himself modestly, with easy
grace; and yet a peculiarly stern dignity of mien, and the air of one
used to command, bespoke the military leader. He gave close heed
throughout to the speech of the poor monk and that of the proud Head of
the Church. As Peter spoke of the persecuted Christians and the wretched
state of the Holy Land, the calm and steadfast eyes of the young man
kindled with rage or glistened with sorrow. When the Pope mentioned the
renowned Charlemagne, the knight's smooth, pale cheek flushed with
pride, for the blood of that great emperor flowed warm in his veins.
When the pardon of all sins was promised by Christ's vicar to the
soldier of the cross, the listener started. To his mind came the
recollection of past exploits,--deeds glorious in the eyes of the world,
but which left a sting in that tender conscience. And the troubled
knight mused:--

"The cause of my emperor was just when he warred against Rodolphe of
Rhenfield; and the many slain in that quarrel trouble me not. I was glad
when my lance pierced the breast of the upstart who dared to claim the
throne of Germany and the crown of Henry. Alas! if but the emperor had
not warred agains