with such effect that he drove
off, one by one, the horsemen who darted forth from the Saracen ranks.

'In truth,' said the brave Frenchman, when complimented by Bisset on his
exploits, 'I know not how it is; but to me, it seems that the danger of
this day has doubled my strength.'

'On my faith,' replied Bisset, 'I am at a loss whether more to admire
your valour or your vigilance. Your care of your good king reminds me of
the watchful servant who carefully drives away the flies from his
master's cup.'

But brief were the intervals allowed even for such an exchange of
sentiments. Now secure of victory, and stimulated by enthusiasm and
fanaticism, the Saracens grew bolder and more audacious in their
attacks. Urged on by their dervishes and imaums, who had flocked to the
host of Saracens to remind them that they were fighting in the cause of
the prophet, they became more and more eager for carnage and blood, and
the Crusaders less and less capable of a stubborn resistance. At length,
on reaching the little town of Minieh, the Crusaders acknowledged that
they could no longer continue the retreat; and, halting, they drew up in
a body outside the town, with the simple resolution of fighting till
they fell.

But by this time Louis was utterly exhausted; and Segrines, conducting
him into the court, lifted him from his steed, and carried him, 'weak as
a child in its mother's lap,' into a house, expecting every moment to be
his last. Nor did the prospects of the Crusaders outside improve in the
king's absence. Alarming rumours, vaguely flying about the town, reached
their ears and depressed their hearts; and, while they were still in
panic and incertitude, the Saracens made an onset with more than their
former ferocity. Soon all was confusion and carnage. It seemed, indeed,
that nothing but the hearts' blood of the Crusaders would satisfy the
vindictive cravings of their foes; and so utterly dispirited by
adversity and defeat, and pestilence, were knights formerly renowned as
brave among the bravest that they allowed themselves, almost without
resisting, to be slaughtered in heaps.

Naturally, however, there were striking exceptions; and none were more
remarkable than Chatillon and Bisset; who, when Louis was conducted into
Minieh, took up their post hard by an orange grove, and close to a wall
at the entrance of the narrow street leading to the house into which
Segrines had carried the king.

Nothing could have exceeded