joie, St. Denis!' he charged into
the midst of the foe--his banner flying, and his sword flashing--and by
his example inspired the Crusaders with such courage that, after a
sanguinary combat, they succeeded in expelling the Mamelukes from the
camp, and driving back the infantry that threw the Greek fire.

By this time the battle had become general, and everywhere the Crusaders
fought valiantly and well, though they had not always the advantage. In
fact, Bibars Bendocdar, as a war chief, possessed such a degree of skill
in handling masses of fighting men as neither Louis nor any of the
Crusaders could boast of; and the discipline of the Mamelukes was such
as to make them terrible foes to encounter.

Nevertheless the Crusaders held their ground, and performed prodigies of
valour. At one point the warriors of Syria and Cyprus maintained their
ground against fearful odds; at a second, the knights of Champagne and
Flanders fought stoutly and well; at a third, such of the Templars as
had not fallen at Mansourah, headed by their grand master who had so
narrowly escaped the carnage, exhibited the fine spectacle of a handful
of men baffling a multitude, and, despite the showers of Greek fire and
missiles which fell so thick that the ground was literally covered with
arrows and javelins, kept the enemy at bay. Even when the grand master
fell mortally wounded, the Knights of the Temple continued to struggle;
and when their entrenchments failed, and the Saracens rushed into the
camp, the military monks closed their ranks and presented a front
against which the assailants continued for hours to charge violently,
but in vain.

But meanwhile the peril of the Count of Poictiers had been great and
alarming. Composed of infantry, his division gave way before the rush of
the Saracen cavalry, and dispersed in consternation. Nor was this the
worst. The count himself, while endeavouring to rally his forces, was
seized, and experienced the mortification of finding himself dragged off
as a prisoner. But there was succour at hand.

The Lord of Joinville and his knights were luckily posted near the Count
of Poictiers; but having all been so severely wounded in the battle of
Shrove Tuesday as to be unable to bear their armour, they could take no
prominent part in the conflict raging around them. No sooner, however,
did they observe the count's predicament than they deemed themselves
bound to interfere at all hazards; and Guy Muschamp, riding t