pe now we shall be covered with
shame before Mahomet,' said they, 'but ere night falls William shall
acknowledge that he is conquered.'

'Indeed!' said Bertrand, and with his cousins he fell upon them till
they fled.

The Counts were victors on this field, but, wounded and weary as they
were, another combat lay before them, for a force of twenty thousand
Saracens was advancing from the valley. Their hearts never failed
them, but they had no strength left; the young Counts were all taken
prisoners, except Vivian, who was left for dead by the side of a
fountain where he had been struck down. 'O Father in Heaven,' he said,
feeling his life going from him, 'forgive me my sins, and help my
uncle, if it is Thy holy will.'

William Short Nose was still fighting, though he knew that the victory
lay with the Unbelievers and their hosts. 'We are beaten,' he said to
the fourteen faithful comrades that stood by him. 'Listen as you will,
no sound of our war cry can be heard. But by the Holy Rood, the
Infidels will know no rest while I am alive. I will give my
forefathers no cause for shame, and the minstrels shall not tell in
their songs how I fell back before the enemy.'

They then gave battle once more, and fought valiantly, till all lay
dead upon the ground, save only William himself.

Now the Count knew that if the Infidel was ever to be vanquished and
beaten out of fair France he must take heed of his own life, for the
task was his and no other man's; so he turned his horse's head towards
Orange, and then stopped, for he saw a troop of freshly landed
Saracens approaching him along the same road.

'The whole world is full of these Infidels!' he cried in anger;
'cursed be the day when they were born. Fair God, you alone can save
me. My Lady Gibourc, shall I ever again behold you? My good horse,'
added he, 'you are very tired. If you had had only five hours' rest, I
would have led you to the charge; but I see plainly that I can get no
help from you, and I cannot blame you for it, as you have served me
well all day, and for this I thank you greatly. If ever we reach
Orange you shall wear no saddle for twenty days, your food shall be
the finest corn, and you shall drink out of a golden trough. But how
should I bear it if the Pagans captured you and carried you to Spain?'

And the horse understood as well as a man, and he threw up his head,
and pawed the ground, and his strength came back to him as of old. At
this sight Will