condition. His army at once refused, and the negotiations were broken
off. It was now resolved to attempt a retreat; but the agile Saracens,
now in the front and now in the rear, rendered it a matter of extreme
difficulty, and cut off the stragglers in great numbers. Hundreds of
them were drowned in the Nile; and sickness and famine worked sad
ravage upon those who escaped all other casualties. Louis himself was
so weakened by disease, fatigue, and discouragement that he was hardly
able to sit upon his horse. In the confusion of the flight he was
separated from his attendants, and left a total stranger upon the sands
of Egypt, sick, weary, and almost friendless. One knight, Geffry de
Sergines, alone attended him, and led him to a miserable hut in a small
village, where for several days he lay in the hourly expectation of
death. He was at last discovered and taken prisoner by the Saracens,
who treated him with all the honour due to his rank and all the pity
due to his misfortunes. Under their care his health rapidly improved,
and the next consideration was that of his ransom.

The Saracens demanded, besides money, the cession of Acre, Tripoli, and
other cities of Palestine. Louis unhesitatingly refused, and conducted
himself with so much pride and courage that the Sultan declared he was
the proudest infidel he had ever beheld. After a good deal of haggling,
the Sultan agreed to waive these conditions, and a treaty was finally
concluded. The city of Damietta was restored; a truce of ten years
agreed upon, and ten thousand golden bezants paid for the release of
Louis and the liberation of all the captives. Louis then withdrew to
Jaffa, and spent two years in putting that city, and Cesarea, with the
other possessions of the Christians in Palestine, into a proper state
of defence. He then returned to his own country, with great reputation
as a saint, but very little as a soldier.

Matthew Paris informs us that, in the year 1250, while Louis was in
Egypt, "thousands of the English were resolved to go to the holy war,
had not the King strictly guarded his ports and kept his people from
running out of doors." When the news arrived of the reverses and
captivity of the French King, their ardour cooled; and the Crusade was
sung of only, but not spoken of.

In France, a very different feeling was the result. The news of the
King's capture spread consternation through the country. A fanatic monk
of Citeaux suddenly appeared in the