attack that the
foremost riders fell back on those behind, who were thrown into
confusion, while William's sword swept him a path to the centre, where
the prisoners stood bound. The Pagans expected the city gates to open
and a body of Franks to come forth to destroy them, and without
waiting another moment they turned and fled. Though the prisoners were
free, William pursued the enemy hotly.

'Oh, fair lord!' called Gibourc, who from the battlements had watched
the fight, 'come back, come back, for now indeed you may enter.' And
William heard her voice, and left the Saracens to go where they would
while he struck the chains off the prisoners, and led them to the
gates of Orange, while he himself rode back to the Saracens.

Not again would the Lady Gibourc have reason to call him coward.

And Gibourc saw, and her heart swelled within her, and she repented
her of her words. 'It is my fault if he is slain,' she wept. 'Oh, come
back, come back!'

And William came.

Now the drawbridge was let down before him, and he entered the city
followed by the Christians whom he had delivered, and the Countess
unlaced his helmet, and bathed his wounds, and then stopped, doubting.

'You cannot be William after all,' said she, 'for William would have
brought back the young kinsmen who went with him; and Guy and Vivian,
and all the young Barons of the country side. And William would have
been encircled by minstrels singing the great deeds he had done.'

[Illustration: THE CAPTIVES William Short-nose rides to the rescue]

'Ah, noble Countess, you speak truth,' answered he. 'Henceforth my
life will be spent in mourning, for my friends and comrades who went
to war with me are lying dead at the Aliscans. Vivian is dead also,
but Bertrand and Guy, Guichard the bold, and Gerard the brave, are
captives in the Saracen camp.'

Great was the sorrow in the city of Orange, great likewise was the
sorrow in the palace of her lord, where the ladies of the Countess
mourned for their husbands. But it was Gibourc herself who first dried
her tears, and roused herself from her grief for Vivian and others
whom she had loved well. 'Noble Count,' she said, 'do not lose your
courage, and let the Infidels crush your spirit. Remember it is not
near Orleans, in safety, that your lands lie, but in the very midst of
the Saracens. Orange never will have peace till they are subdued. So
send messengers to Paris, to your brother-in-law King Louis, and to
your f