orthy soldiers of the Cross.'

'Earl William,' said the Count of Artois, riding up, and now conscious
of his folly, 'God fights against us. Resistance is vain, but escape is
possible. Let us consult our safety, and fly while yet our horses can
carry us.'

'Fly if you will!' answered the earl, scornfully; 'but God forbid that
any but liars should ever have it in their power to tell that my
father's son fled from the face of a Saracen.'

And now the heavens and the earth seemed to resound with the noise of
horns and enormous kettle-drums; and, urged on by Bibars Bendocdar, the
Saracens rushed upon their enemies. The plight of the Crusaders was
desperate. But, few as they were in comparison with the swarming foe,
they fought gallantly and well; and, though wounded and exhausted,
maintained the conflict for hours after the flight of the Count of
Artois. But fearful in the meantime was the carnage. Full fifteen
hundred knights had fallen; and of these, three hundred were of the
order of the Temple. Gradually the numbers diminished, till there
remained not a dozen of the men who had that morning invaded Fakreddin's
camp; and among these were the Earl of Salisbury, Lord Robert de Vere,
the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital, Bisset the English
knight, and Walter Espec, still unwounded, and fighting as if he bore a
charmed life, and felt invulnerable to javelins or arrows.

But all possibility of continuing to resist was now at an end, and every
hope of succour had vanished. Salisbury, resolved to sell his life
dearly, faced the Saracens with desperate valour, and used his
battle-axe with such effect that a hundred Saracens are said to have
fallen that day by his hand. At length his horse was killed under him;
and, after rising to his feet, and fighting for awhile with disdain, he
fell covered with wounds. Robert de Vere, already bleeding and
exhausted, no sooner saw Salisbury sink than he wrapped the English
standard round his body, and lay down to die by the great earl's side.
Bisset, Walter Espec, and the two grand masters, found themselves
surrounded by a host of foes, and defending themselves desperately
against every species of assailant.

'Alas!' exclaimed the grand masters of the Temple, 'we are clearly
doomed.'

'I would fain hope not,' answered Bisset, resolutely. 'Our weapons are
not willow-wands; we can cut our way through the pagan rabble.'

'Shame upon us if we hesitate!' said Walter Espec.

An