DVENTURE.

IT was not the good fortune of all the warriors who had taken the Cross
to escape the perils of the deep, and reach Cyprus in safety.

About a month after Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec had reached Limisso, a
tall ship bearing a Crusader of noble name, who had left Constantinople
to combat the Saracens under the banner of St. Denis, was sailing
gallantly towards Cyprus, when a violent storm arose, and threatened her
with destruction. The wind blew fiercely; the sea ran mountains high;
and, though the ship for a time struggled sturdily with the elements,
she could not resist her fate. Her cordage creaked, and her timbers
groaned dismally; and, as she was by turns borne aloft on the waves
crested with foam and precipitated headlong into the gulphs that yawned
between, great was the terror, loud the wailing, and frightful the
turmoil. In vain the mariners exerted their strength and skill. No
efforts on their part could enable the vessel to resist the fury of the
tempest.

Every minute matters became more desperate. The sea, recently calm,
seemed to boil from its very depths; and the ship, incessantly tossed to
and fro by the roaring billows, appeared, every moment, on the point of
being engulphed. The skipper was lost in consternation; the Crusaders
gave way to despair; and with death staring them in the face they ceased
to hope for safety, and, kneeling, confessed to each other, and prayed
aloud that their sins might be forgiven. At length, in spite of the
efforts made by the mariners to resist the winds and waves, the ship,
driven on the rocks near the island, filled with water, went to pieces,
leaving those on board to struggle as they best might to escape a watery
grave. The struggle was vain. Many, indeed, caught hold of the vessel's
timbers with a vague hope of reaching the shore; but, unable to contend
with the elements, they, one after another, disappeared and sank to rise
no more.

Now this terrible shipwreck was not without witnesses. On that part of
the coast of Cyprus where it occurred was a rude hamlet chiefly tenanted
by fishermen; and men, women, and children crowded the beach, uttering
loud cries, and highly excited, but unable to render any assistance. It
seemed that no boat could live in such a sea; and the fishermen could
only gaze mournfully on the heartrending scene, as the waves sprang up
and rapaciously claimed their prey.

It was while the sea, agitated by the gale, was still runnin