ght this stern,
ascetic Grand Master, whose whole fortune and misfortune is merged in
that of his order, would be willing to do more for its advancement than
I who labour for my own interest? To check this wild Crusade was my
motive, indeed, but I durst not think on the ready mode which this
determined priest has dared to suggest. Yet it is the surest--perhaps
even the safest."

Such were the Marquis's meditations, when his muttered soliloquy was
broken by a voice from a little distance, which proclaimed with the
emphatic tone of a herald, "Remember the Holy Sepulchre!"

The exhortation was echoed from post to post, for it was the duty of
the sentinels to raise this cry from time to time upon their periodical
watch, that the host of the Crusaders might always have in their
remembrance the purpose of their being in arms. But though Conrade was
familiar with the custom, and had heard the warning voice on all former
occasions as a matter of habit, yet it came at the present moment so
strongly in contact with his own train of thought, that it seemed a
voice from Heaven warning him against the iniquity which his heart
meditated. He looked around anxiously, as if, like the patriarch of
old, though from very different circumstances, he was expecting some
ram caught in a thicket some substitution for the sacrifice which his
comrade proposed to offer, not to the Supreme Being, but to the Moloch
of their own ambition. As he looked, the broad folds of the ensign of
England, heavily distending itself to the failing night-breeze, caught
his eye. It was displayed upon an artificial mound, nearly in the midst
of the camp, which perhaps of old some Hebrew chief or champion had
chosen as a memorial of his place of rest. If so, the name was now
forgotten, and the Crusaders had christened it Saint George's
Mount, because from that commanding height the banner of England was
supereminently displayed, as if an emblem of sovereignty over the many
distinguished, noble, and even royal ensigns, which floated in lower
situations.

A quick intellect like that of Conrade catches ideas from the glance of
a moment. A single look on the standard seemed to dispel the uncertainty
of mind which had affected him. He walked to his pavilion with the hasty
and determined step of one who has adopted a plan which he is resolved
to achieve, dismissed the almost princely train who waited to attend
him, and, as he committed himself to his couch, muttered his