he secret of the treason. Roger went, on the
29th of July following, to Squilantia, and having related to Bruno
what had happened to him, the saint said to him, "It was not I who
warned you; it was the angel of God, who is near princes in time of
war." Thus Count Roger relates the affair himself, in a privilege
granted to St. Bruno.

A monk[413] named Fidus, a disciple of St. Euthymius, a celebrated
abbot in Palestine, having been sent by Martyrius, the patriarch of
Jerusalem, on an important mission concerning the affairs of the
church, embarked at Joppa, and was shipwrecked the following night; he
supported himself above water for some time by clinging to a piece of
wood, which he found by chance. Then he invoked the help of St.
Euthymius, who appeared to him walking on the sea, and who said to
him, "Know that this voyage is not pleasing to God, and will be of no
utility to the mother of the Churches, that is to say, to Jerusalem.
Return to him who sent you, and tell him from me not to be uneasy at
the separation of the schismatics--union will take place ere long; for
you, you must go to my laurel grove, and you must build there a
monastery."

Having said this, he enveloped Fidus in his mantle, and Fidus found
himself immediately at Jerusalem, and in his house, without knowing
how he came there; he related it all to the Patriarch Martyrius, who
remembered the prediction of St. Euthymius concerning the building in
the laurel grove a monastery.

Queen Margaret, in her memoirs, asserts that God protects the great in
a particular manner, and that he lets them know, either in dreams or
otherwise, what is to happen to them. "As Queen Catherine de Medicis,
my mother," says she, "who the night before that unhappy day dreamt
she saw the king, Henry II., my father, wounded in the eye, as it
really happened; when she awoke she several times implored the king
not to tilt that day.

"The same queen being dangerously ill at Metz, and having around her
bed the king (Charles IX.), my sister, and brother of Lorraine, and
many ladies and princesses, she cried out as if she had seen the
battle of Jarnac fought: 'See how they fly! my son has the victory! Do
you see the Prince of Conde dead in that hedge?' All those who were
present fancied she was dreaming; but the night after, M. de Losse
brought her the news. 'I knew it well,' said she; 'did I not behold it
the day before yesterday?'"

The Duchess Philippa, of Gueldres, wife of