 7 There was never a time on the march-parts yet, when Scottish with English met. But it was marvell if the red blood ran not, as the rain does in the street. BATTLE OF OTTERBORN A considerable band of Scottish warriors had joined the Crusaders, and had naturally placed themselves under the command of the English monarch. Being, like his native troops, most of them of Saxon and Norman descent, speak in the same languages, possessed some of them, of English as well as Scottish demences, and allied in some cases by blood and into marriage. The period also preceded that when the grasping ambition of Edward I gave a deadly and inveterate character to the wars betwixt the two nations. The English fighting for the subjugation of Scotland, and the Scottish, with all the stern determination and obstinacy which had ever characterised their nation, for the defence of their independence, by the most violent means, under the most disadvantageous circumstances, and at the most extreme hazard. As yet wars betwixt the two nations, though fierce and frequent, had been conducted on principles of fair hostility, and admitted of these softening shades, by which courtesy, in their respect for open, and generous foemen, qualify and mitigate the horrors of war. In time of peace, therefore, and especially when both, as at present, were engaged in war, waged in behalf of a common cause, and rendered dear to them by their ideas of religion. The adventurers of both countries frequently fought side by side, their national emulation serving only to stimulate them, to exil each other in their efforts against the common enemy. The frank and martial character of Richard, who made no distinction betwixt his own subjects, and those of William of Scotland, accepting as they bore themselves in the field of battle, tended much to conciliate the troops of both nations. But upon his illness, and the disadvantageous circumstances in which the crusaders were placed, the national disunion between the various bands united in the crusade began to display itself, just as old wounds break out afresh in the human body, when under the influence of disease or debility. The Scottish and English, equally jealous and high-spirited, adapt to take offence, the former the more so, because the poorer and the weaker nation, began to fill up by internal dissension, the period when the truce forbade them to wreck the united vengeance on the Saracens. Like the contending Roman chiefs of old, the Scottish would admit no superiority, and their southern neighbours would brook no equality. There were chargers and recriminations, and both the common soldiery and their leaders and commanders, who had been good comrades in times of victory, lowered on each other in the period of adversity, as if their union had not been then more essential than ever, not only to the success of their common cause, but to their joint safety. The same disunion had begun to show itself to its the French and English, the Italians and the Germans, and even between the Danes and Swedes. But it is only that which divided the two nations whom one island bred, and who seemed more animated against each other for the very reason, that our narrative is principally concerned with. Of all the English nobles who had followed their king to Palestine, D'Vorx was most prejudice against the Scottish. They were his near neighbours, with whom he had been engaged during his whole life in private or public warfare, and on whom he had inflicted many calamities, while he had sustained at their hands not a few. His love and devotion to the king was like the vivid affection of the old English mastiff to his master, leaving him churlish and inaccessible to all others, even towards those to whom he was indifferent, and rough and dangerous to any against whom he entertained a prejudice. D'Vorx had never observed, without jealousy and displeasure, his king exhibit any mark of courtesy or favour to the wicked, deceitful and ferocious race born on the other side of a river, or an imaginary line drawn through waste and wilderness, and he even doubted the success of a crusade in which they were suffered to bear arms, holding them in his secret soul little better than the Saracens whom he came to combat. It may be added that, as being himself a blunt and downright Englishman, unaccustomed to conceal the slightest movement either of love or of dislike, he accounted the fair spoken courtesy which the Scots had learned, either from the imitation of their frequent allies, the French, or which might have arisen from their own proud and reserved character, as a false and astucious mark of the most dangerous designs against their neighbours, over whom he believed, with genuine English confidence, they could, by fair manhood, never obtain any advantage. Yet though D'Vorx entertained these sentiments concerning his northern neighbours, and extended them with little mitigation, even to such as had assumed the cross. His respect for the king, and a sense of the duty imposed by his vows of crusader, prevented him from displaying them otherwise, then by regularly shunning all intercourse with his Scottish brethren in at arms as far as possible, by observing a sullen taciturnity, when compelled to meet them occasionally, and by looking scornfully upon them, when they encountered on the march and in the camp. The Scottish barons and knights were not meant to bear his scorn unobserved or unreplied to, and it came to pass that he was regarded as the determined and active enemy of a nation, whom after all he only disliked, and in some sort despised. Nay, it was remarked by close observers that, if he had not towards them the charity of Scripture, which suffereth long and judges kindly, he was by no means deficient in the subordinate and limited virtue, which alleviates and relieves the wants of others. The wealth of Thomas of Gilsland procured supplies of provisions and medicines, and some of these usually flowed by secret channels into the quarters of the Scottish. His surly benevolence preceding on the principle that, next to a man's friend, his foe was of most importance to him, passing over all the intermediate relations as too indifferent to merit even a thought. This explanation is necessary, in order that the reader may fully understand what we are now of to detail. Thomas de Vaux had not made many steps beyond the entrance of the royal pavilion, when he was aware of what the far more acute ear of the English monarch, no mean proficient in the art of minstrelsy, had instantly discovered that the musical strains, namely which had reached their ears, were produced by the pipes, shams, and kettle-drums of the Saracens. And at the bottom of an avenue of tents, which formed a broad access to the pavilion of Richard, he could see a crowd of idle soldiers assembled around the spot from which the music was heard, almost in the centre of the camp. And he saw, with great surprise, mingled amid the helmets of various forms worn by the crusaders of different nations, white turbans and long pikes, announcing the presence of armed Saracens, and the huge deformed heads of several camels or drum-and-daries, overlooking the multitude by aid of their long, disproportioned necks, wondering and displeased at a sight so unexpected and singular, for it was customary to leave all flags of truce in other communications from the enemy at an appointed place without the barriers. The Baron looked eagerly round for someone of whom he might inquire the cause of this alarming novelty. The first person whom he met advancing to him, he sat down at once, by his grave in Haughty Steppe, as a Spaniard or a Scott, and presently after muttered to himself, and as Scott it is, he of the Leopard. I have seen him fight indifferently well, for one of his country. Loath to ask even a passing question, he was about to pass Sir Kenneth, with that sullen and luring port which seems to say, I know thee, but I will hold no communication with thee. But his purpose was defeated by the Northern Knight, who moved forward directly to him, and accosting him with formal court as he said, My Lord to Vox of Gilsland, I have in charge to speak with you. Ha! returned the English Baron. With me? But say your pleasure, so it be shortly spoken, I am on the King's errand. Mine touches King Richard yet more nearly, answered Sir Kenneth, I bring him, I trust, health. The Lord of Gilsland measured the Scott with incredulous eyes, and replied, Thou art no leech, I think, Sir Scott. I heard as soon thought of your bringing the King of England wealth. Sir Kenneth, though displeased with the manner of the Baron's reply, answered calmly, Health to Richard is glory, and wealth to Christendom, but my time presses, I pray you may I see the King. Surely not, fair sir, said the Baron, until your errand be told more distinctly. The sick chambers of princes open not to all who inquire, like a northern hostily. My Lord, said Kenneth, the cross which I wear in common with yourself, and the importance of what I have to tell, must for the present, cause me to pass over a bearing, which else I were unept to endure. In plain language, then, I bring with me a Moorish physician, who undertakes to work a cure on King Richard. A Moorish physician? Said Devox, and who will warrant that he brings not poisons instead of remedies? His own life, my Lord, his head, which he offers as a guarantee. I have known many a resolute Ruffian. Said Devox, who valued his own life as little as it deserved, and would troop to the gallows as merrily as if the hangman were his partner in a dance. And thus it is, my Lord. replied the Scott. Saladin, to whom none will deny the credit of a generous and valiant enemy, have sent this leech hither with an honourable retinue and guard, befitting the high estimation in which El Hakeem, the physician, is held by the Saldan, and with fruits and refreshments for the King's private chamber, and such message as may pass between its honourable enemies, prying him to be recovered of his fever, that he may be the fitter to receive a visit from the Saldan, with his naked scimitar in his hand, and a hundred thousand cavaliers at his back. Will it please you, who are of the King's secret council, to cause these camels to be discharged of their burdens, and some order taken as to the reception of the learned physician? Wonderful! said Devox, as speaking to himself. And who will vouch for the honour of Saladin? In a case when bad faith would rid him at once of his most powerful adversary, I myself, replied Sir Kenneth, will be his guarantee with honour, life, and fortune. Strange! Again ejaculated Devox, the North vouchers for the South, the Scott for the Turk. May I crave of you, Sir Knight, how you became concerned in this affair? I had been absent on a pilgrimage, in the cause of which, replied Sir Kenneth, I had a message to discharge towards the Holy Hermit of Ngadi. May I not be entrusted with it, Sir Kenneth, and with the answer of the Holy Man? It may not be, my lord, answered the Scott. I am of the secret council of England, said the Englishman Hortley, to which learned I owe no allegiance, said Kenneth. Though I have voluntary followed in this war the personal fortunes of England sovereign, I was dispatched by the general council of the Kings, Princes, and Supreme Leaders of the Army of the Blessed Cross, and to them only I render my errand. Ha! sayest thou? said the proud baron Devox. But no, messenger of the Kings and Princes, as thou mayest be, no leech shall approach the sick bed of Richard of England, without the consent of him of Gilsland. And they will come on evil errand, who dare to intrude themselves against it. He was turning loftily away, when the Scott, placing himself closer and more opposite to him, asked in a calm voice, yet not without expressing his share of pride, whether the Lord of Gilsland esteemed him a gentleman and a good night, or Scots are nobled by their birthright, answered Thomas Devox, something ironically, but sensible of his own injustice, and perceiving that Kenneth's colour rose, he added, for a good night it was sinned to doubt you, in one at least who has seen you well and bravely discharged your devout. Well, then, said the Scottish Knight, satisfied with the frankness of the last admission, and let me swear to you, Thomas of Gilsland, that, as I am a true Scottish man, which I hold a privilege equal to my ancient gentry, and as sure as I am a belted knight, and come hither to acquire L.O.S., and fame in this mortal life, and forgiveness of my sin in that which is to come, so truly, and by the blessed cross which I wear, do I protest unto you that I desire but the safety of Richard C. de Leon, in recommending the ministry of this Muslim physician. Open bracket, L.O.S., Laos, Praise, or Renown, close bracket. The Englishman was struck with the solemnity of the obtestation, and answered with more cordiality than he had yet exhibited. Tell me, Sir Knight of the Leopard, granting, which I do not doubt, that thou art thyself satisfied in this matter, shall I do well, in a land where the art of poisoning is as general as that of cooking, to bring this unknown physician to practice with his drugs on a health so valuable to Christendom? My Lord, replied the Scott, thus only can I reply, that my squire, the only one of my retinue whom war and disease had left in attendance on me, has been of late suffering dangerously under the same fever, which, in valiant King Richard, has disabled the principal limb of our holy enterprise. This leech, this Eloquine, hath ministered remedies to him not two hours since, and already he hath fallen into a refreshing sleep, that he can cure the disorder, which has proved so fatal I nothing doubt, that he hath the purpose to do it is, I think, warranted by his mission from the royal Saldan, who is true-hearted and loyal, so far as a blinded infidel may be called so, and, for his eventual success, the certainty of reward in case of succeeding, and punishment in case of voluntary failure, may be a sufficient guarantee. The Englishman listened with downcast looks, as one who doubted, yet was not unwilling to receive conviction. A lengthy looked up and said, May I see your sixth squire, fair sir? The Scottish night hesitated and coloured, yet answered at last, Willingly, my lord of Gilsland, but you must remember, when you see my poor quarter, that the nobles and knights of Scotland feed not so high, sleep not so soft, and care not for the magnificence of lodgement, which is proper to their southern neighbours. I am poorly lodged, my lord of Gilsland. He added, with a haughty emphasis on the word, while, with some unwillingness, he led the way to his temporary place of abode. Whatever were the prejudices of devorks against the nation of his new acquaintance, and though we undertake not to deny, that some of these were excited by its proverbial poverty, he had too much nobleness of disposition, to enjoy the mortification of a brave individual, thus compelled to make known once which his pride would gladly have concealed. Shame to the soldier of the cross! He said, Who thinks worldly splendour, or a luxurious accommodation, when pressing forward to the conquest of the holy city? Fare as hard as we may, we shall yet be better than the host of martyrs and of saints. Who, having trod these scenes before us, now hold golden lamps and evergreen palms? This was the most metaphorical speech which Thomas of Gilsland was ever known to utter. The rather, perhaps, as will sometimes happen, that he did not entirely express his own sentiments, being somewhat a lover of good cheer and splendid accommodation, by this time they reached the place of which the camp where the night of the leopard had assumed is abode. Appearances here did indeed promise no breach of the laws of mortification, to which the crusaders, according to the opinion expressed by him of Gilsland, ought to subject themselves. A space of ground, large enough to accommodate perhaps thirty tents, according to the crusaders' rules of castramentation, was partly vacant, because in ostentation the night had demanded ground to the extent of his original retinue, partly occupied by a few miserable huts, hastily constructed of boughs and covered with palm-leaves. These habitation seemed entirely deserted, and several of them were ruinous. The central hut, which represented the pavilion of the leader, was distinguished by a shallow tailed pen and, placed on the point of a spear, from which its long folds dropped motionless to the ground, as if sickening under the scorching rays of the asiatic sun. But no pages or squares, not even a solitary water, were placed by the emblem of feudal power and nightly degree. If its reputation defended it not from insult, it had no other guard. Sir Kenneth cast a melancholy look around him, but suppressing his feelings entered the hut, making a sign to the barren of Gilsland to follow. He also cast around a glance of examination, which implied pity, not altogether unmingled with contempt, to which perhaps it is nilier keen as it is said to be to love. He then stooped his lofty crest, and ended a lowly hut, which his bulky form seemed almost entirely to fill. The interior of the hut was chiefly occupied by two beds. One was empty but composed of collected leaves, and spread with an antelope's hide. It seemed, from the articles of armor laid beside it, and from a crucifix of silver, carefully and reverentially disposed at the head, to be the couch of the knight himself. The other contained the invalid, of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken. A strong-built and harsh-featured man, passed, as his looks betokened, the middle age of life. His couch was trimmed more softly than his master's, and it was plain that the more courtly garments of the latter, the loose robe in which the knights showed themselves on pacific occasions, and the other little spare articles of dress and adornment, had been applied by Sir Kenneth to the accommodation of his sick domestic, in an outward part of the hut, which was yet within the range of the English baron's eye. A boy, rudely attired with buskins of deer's hide, a blue cap or bonnet, and a doublet, whose original finery was much tarnished, sat on his knees by a chafing dish filled with charcoal, cooking upon a plate of iron, the cakes of barley bread, which were then, and still are, a favourite food with the Scottish people. Part of an antelope was suspended against one of the main props of the hut, nor was it difficult to know how it had been procured. For a large-stared greyhound, nobler in size and appearance than those even which guarded King Richard's sick bed, lay eyeing the process of baking the cake. The sagacious animal, on their first entrance, uttered a stifled growl, which sounded from his deep chest like distant thunder, but he saw his master, and acknowledged his presence by wagging his tail and couching his head, abstaining from more tumultuous or noisy greeting, as if his noble instinct had taught in the propriety of silence in a sick man's chamber. Besides the couch sat on a cushion, also composed of skins, the moreish physician of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken, cross-legged after the eastern fashion. The imperfect light showed little of him, save that the lower part of his face was covered with a long black beard, which descended over his breast, that he wore a high tulpac, a tartar cap of the lamb's wool, manufactured at Astrakhan, bearing the same dusky colour, and that his ample calf-dan, or Turkish robe, was also of a darkish hue. Two piercing eyes, which gleaned with unusual luster, were the only liniments of his visage that could be discerned amid the darkness in which he was enveloped. The English Lord stood silent with a sort of reverential awe. Four, notwithstanding the roughness of his general bearing, a scene of distress and poverty, firmly endured with that complaint or murmur, would at any time have claimed more reverence from Thomas de Vaux, than would all the splendid formalities of a royal presence chamber, unless that presence chamber were King Richard's own. He was, for a time, heard, but the heavy and regular breathings of the invalid, who seemed in profound repose. He hath not slept for six nights before, said Sir Kenneth, as I am assured by the youth his attendant. Nobles Scott, said Thomas de Vaux, grasped in the Scottish knight's hand, with a pressure which had more of cordiality than he permitted his words to utter. This gear must be amended. You are a squire as but too evil-fed and look too. In the latter part of this speech he naturally raised his voice to its usual decided tone. The sick man was disturbed in his slumbers. My master, he said, murmuring as in a dream. Nobles Sir Kenneth, taste not. To you est me, the waters of the Clyde cold and refreshing, after the brackish springs of Palestine. He dreams of his native land, and is happy in his slumbers. Whispers Sir Kenneth to de Vaux. But had scarcetted the words, when the physician, arising from the place which he had taken near the couch of the sick, and laying the hand of the patient, whose pulse he had been carefully watching quietly upon the couch, came to the two nights, and taken them each by the arm, while he intimated them to remain silent, led them to the front of the hut. In the name of Issa Ben-Marim. He said, whom we honour as you, though not with the same blinded superstition, disturb not the effect of the blessed medicine on which he hath butaken. To awaken him now is death or deprivation of reason. But return at the hour when the mazin calls from the mine-art to evening prayer in the mosque, and if left undisturbed until then, I promise you the same Frankish soldier shall be able, without prejudice to his health, to hold some brief converse with you on any matter in which either, and especially his master, may have to question him. The nights retreated before the authoritative commands of the leech, who soon too fully to comprehend the importance of the eastern proverb, that the sick chamber of the patient is the kingdom of the physician. They paused, and remained standing together at the door of the hut. There was a Kenneth with the air of one who expected his visitor to say farewell, and devorked as if he had something on his mind which prevented him from doing so. The hound, however, had to impress out of the tent after them, and now thrust his long, rough countenance into the hand of his master, as if modestly soliciting some mark of his kindness. He had no sooner received the notice which he desired, in the shape of a kind word and slight caress, than, eager to acknowledge his gratitude and joy for his master's return, he flew off at full speed, galloping in full career and without stretch tail, here and there, about and around, crossways and enlong, through the decayed huts and the esplanade which we have described, but never transgressing those precents which his sagacity knew were protected by his master's penne. After a few gambles of this kind the dog, coming close up to his master, laid it once aside as frolics and mood, relapsed into his usual gravity and slowness of gesture and deportment, and looked as if he were ashamed that anything should have moved him to depart so far out of his sober self-control. Both nights looked on with pleasure, for Sir Kenneth was justly proud of his noble hound, and the northern English baron was, of course, an admirer of the chase, and a judge of the animal's merits. A right able dog. He said, I think fair sir, King Richard Hathnot and Allen which may match him, if he be as staunch as he is swift, but let me pray you, speaking in all honour and kindness, whether you not heard the proclamation, that no one, under the rank of Earl, shall keep hunting dogs within King Richard's camp without the royal licence, which, I think, Sir Kenneth, have not been issued to you, I speak as master of the horse. And I answer as a free Scottish knight, said Kenneth sternly, for the present I follow the banner of England, but I cannot remember that I have ever subjugated myself to the forest laws of that kingdom, nor have I such respect for them as would incline me to do so. When the trumpet sounds to arms, my foot is in the steer as soon as any. When it clangs for the charge, my lance has not been the last laid in the rest. But for my hours of liberty or of iodonis, King Richard has no title to bar my recreation. Nevertheless, said Devox, it is a folly to disobey the King's audience, so, with your good leave, I, as having authority in that matter, will send you a protection for my friend here. I thank you, said the Scot coldly, but he knows my allotted quarters, and within these I can protect him myself. And yet, he said, suddenly changing his manner, this is but a cold return for a well-meant kindness. I thank you, my lord, most heartily. The King's equaries or prickers might find Roswell at disadvantage and doom some injury, which I should not, perhaps, be slow in returning, and so ill might come of it. You have seen so much of my housekeeping, my lord, he added, with a smile, that I need not shame to say that Roswell is our principal purveyor, and well I hope our lion, Richard, will not be like the lion in the minstrel fable, that went to hunting, and kept the whole booty to himself. I cannot think that he would grudge a poor gentleman, who follows him faithfully, his hour of sport, in his morsel of gain, or especially when other food is hard enough to come by. By my faith, you do the King know more than justice. And yet, said the Baron, there is something in these words, fear and venison, that turns the very brains of our Norman princes. We have heard of late, said the Scott, by minstrels and pilgrims, that your outlawed yeoman have formed great bands in the shires of York and Nottingham, having at their head a most stout archer called Robinhood, with his Lieutenant Little John, may thinks it were better that Richard relaxed his forest code in England, than endeavour to enforce it in the Holy Land. Wild work, Sir Kenneth! replied DeVox, shrugging his shoulders, as one who would avoid a perilous or unpleasing topic. A mad world, sir! I must now bid you adieu, having presently to return to the King's pavilion. At Vespers I will again, with your leave, visit your quarters, and speak with this same infidel physician. A word in the meantime, were it no offence, willingly send you what would somewhat mend your cheer. I thank you, sir, said Sir Kenneth, but it needs not. Roswell have already stocked my larder for two weeks, since the son of Palestine, if it brings disease, serves also to dry venison. The two warriors parted much better friends than they had met, but ere they separated, Thomas DeVox informed himself at more length of the circumstances attending the mission of the eastern physician, and received from the Scottish Knight the credentials which he had brought to King Richard on the part of Saladin. CHAPTER VIII. A wise physician skilled our wounds to heal, is more than army to the common wheel. Pope Ziliad. This is a strange tale, Sir Thomas. Said the sick monarch when he had heard the report of the trusty baron of Gilsland. Art thou sure this Scottish man is a tall man and true? I cannot say, my lord. Replied the jealous borderer. I live a little too near the Scots to gather much truth among them, having found them ever fair and false. But this man's bearing is that of a true man. Were he a devil as well as a scot, that I must need say for him in conscience. And for his carriage as a knight, how sayest thou, DeVox? To mind the king? It is your Majesty's business, more than mine, to note men's bearings. And I warrant you have noted the manner in which this man of the leopard have borne himself. He hath been full well spoken of. And justly, Thomas, said the king, we have ourselves witnessed him. It is indeed our purpose in placing ourselves ever in the front of battle, to see how a leishman and followers acquit themselves, and not from a desire to accumulate vain glory to ourselves, as some have supposed. We know the vanity of the praise of man, which is but a vapor, and buckle on our armour for other purposes than to win it. DeVox was alarmed when he heard the king make a declaration so inconsistent with his nature. And believed at first that nothing short of the approach of death could have brought him to speak in depreciating terms of military renown, which was the very breath of his nostrils. But recollecting he had met the royal confessor in the outer pavilion, he was shrewd enough to place his temporary self-abasement to the effect of the reverent man's lesson, and suffered the king to proceed without reply. Yes, continued Richard, I have indeed marked the manner in which this night does his devoir. My leading staff were not worth a fool's bobble had he escaped my notice. And he had ear now tasted of our bounty, but that I have also marked his overweening and audacious presumption. My leish, said the baron of Girlsland, observing the king's countenance change. I fear I have transgressed your pleasure in lending some countenance to his transgression. How demolten thou? said the king, contracting his brows and speaking in a tone of angry surprise. Thou countenance his insolence it cannot be. Nay, your majesty will pardon me to remind you that I have by mine office right to grant liberty to men of gentle blood to keep them a hound or two within camp, just to cherish the noble art of venery. And besides, it were a sin to have maimed or harmed a thing so noble as this gentleman's dog. Has he then a dog so handsome? said the king. A most perfect creature of heaven, said the baron, who was an enthusiast in field sports. Of the noblest northern breed, deep in the chest, strong in the stern, black colour, and brindled on the breasts and legs. Not spotted with white, but just shaded into grey. Strength to pull down a bull, swiftness to coat an antelope. The king laughed at his enthusiasm. Well, there has given him leave to keep the hound, so there is an end of it. Be not, however, liberal of your licenses among those knight's adventurers, who have no prince or leader to depend upon. They are ungovernable and leave no game in Palestine. But to this piece of learned heatheness, sayest thou the scot met him in the desert? No, my liege. The scot's tale runs thus. He was dispatched to the old hermit of Ngadi, of whom men talk so much. Siddeth in hell! said Richard, starting up. By whom dispatched and for what? Who dared send any one thither, when our queen was in the convent of Ngadi, upon a pilgrimage for our recovery? The council of the crusade sent him, my lord. Answer the baron of Orcs. For what purpose he declined to account to me? I think it is scarce known in the camp that your royal consort is on a pilgrimage. And even the princes may not have been aware, as the queen has been sequestered from company since your love prohibited her attendance in case of infection. Well, should be looked into, said Richard. So this Scottish man, this envoy, met with a wandering physician at the grotto of Ngadi. Ha! Not so, my liege! replied to Orcs. But he met, I think, near that place, with a Saracen emir, with whom he had some melee in the way of proof of valor, and finding him worthy to bear brave men company. They went together, as errant knights are want, to the grotto of Ngadi. Here Divorce stopped, for he was not one of those who can tell a long story in a sentence. And did they there meet the physician? Demanded the king impatiently. No, my liege! replied Divorce. But the Saracen, learning your majesty's grievous illness, undertook that Saladin should send his own physician to you, and with many assurances of his eminent skill. And he came to the grotto accordingly, after the Scottish knight had tarried a day for him and more. He is attended as if you were a prince, with drums and atabels, and servants on horse and foot, and brings with him letters of credence from Saladin. Have they been examined by Jacomo Loredani? I showed them to the interpreter, ear-bringing them hither, and behold their contents in English. Richard took the scroll in which to unscribe these words. The blessings of Allah and his prophet Muhammad. Out upon the hound! said Richard, spitting in contempt by way of interjection. Saladin, king of kings, soldan of Egypt and of Syria, the light and refuge of the earth, to the great melish Rick, Richard of England, greeting. Whereas we have been informed that the hand of sickness has been heavy upon thee, our royal brother, and that thou hast with thee only such Nazarene and Jewish medicineers, as work without the blessing of Allah and our holy prophet. Confusion on his head, again muttered the English monarch. We have therefore sent to tend and wait upon thee, at this time, the physician to our own person, Adonbek El-Hakim, before whose face the angel Azrael, the angel of death, spreads his wings and departs from the sick chamber. Who knows the virtue of herbs and stones, the path of the sun, moon and stars, and can save men from all that is not written on his forehead. And this we do, praying you heartily to honour and make use of his skill. Not only that we may do service to thy worth and valour, which is the glory of all the nations of Fragistan, but that we may bring the controversy which is at present between us to an end, either by honourable agreement, or by open trial thereof with our weapons in a fair field. Seeing that it neither becomes thy place and courage to die the death of a slave, who hath been overwrought by his taskmaster, nor befits it our fame, that a brave adversary be snatched from our weapon by such disease. And therefore may the holy— Hold, hold! said Richard. I will have known more of his dog of a prophet. It makes me sick to think the valiant and worthy soldan should believe in a dead dog. Yes, I will see his position. I will put myself into the charge of this hekeem. I will repay the noble soldan his generosity. I will meet Saladin in the field, as he so worthily proposes, and he shall have no cause to term Richard of England ungrateful. I will strike him to the earth in my battle-axe. I will convert him to the holy church with such blows as he has rarely endured. He shall recant his errors before my good cross-handled sword, and I will have him baptised on the battlefield, from my own helmet, though the cleansing waters were mixed with the blood of us both. Haste of orcs, why dost thou delay a conclusion so pleasing? Fetch the hekeem hither. My lord! said the baron, who perhaps saw some accession of fever in this overflow of confidence. Be-think you, the soldan is a pagan, and that you are his most formidable enemy. For which reason he is more bound to do me service in this matter, lest a paltry fever end the quarrel between two such kings? I tell that he loves me as I love him, as noble adversaries each love each other. By my honour, it was sin to doubt his good faith. Nevertheless, my lord, it will well to aid the issue of these medicines upon the Scottish squire, said the lord of Gilsland. My own life depends upon it, for worthy were I to die like a dog, did I proceed rashly in this matter, and make shipwreck of the wheel of Christendom. I never knew thee before hesitate for fear of life, said Richard, upbraidingly. Nor would I now, my liege, replied the stout-hearted baron. Save that yours lies at pledge as well as my own. Well, that suspicious mortal! answered Richard. Begone then, and watch the progress of this remedy. I could almost wish it might either cure or kill me, for I am weary of lying here like an ox dying on the Moran. When timbers are beating, horses stamping, and trumpets sounding without. The baron hastily departed, resolved, however, to communicate his error into some churchmen, as he felt something burdened in conscience at the idea of his master being attended by an unbeliever. The archbishop of Tyre was the first to whom he confided his doubts. Knowing his interest with his master, Richard, who both loved and honoured the sagacious prelate, the bishop heard the doubts which Dvorak stated, with that acuteness of intelligence which distinguishes the Roman Catholic clergy. The religious scruples of Dvorak's, he treated with as much lightness as propriety permitted him to exhibit on such a subject to a layman. Medicineers, he said, like the medicines which they employed, were often useful, though the one were, by birth, or manners, the vilest of humanity, as the others are, in many cases, extracted from the basis materials. Men may use the assistance of pagans and infidels. He continued, in their need, and there is reason to think that one cause of their being permitted to remain on earth is that they might minister to the convenience of true Christians. Thus we lawfully make slaves of heathen captives. Again, preceded the prelate. There is no doubt that the primitive Christians use the services of the unconverted heathen. Thus in the ship of Alexandria, in which the blessed apostle Paul sailed to Italy, the sailors were doubtless pagans. Yet what said the Holy Saint when their ministry was needful? Unless these men abide in the ship, you cannot be saved. Again Jews are infidels to Christianity, as well as Mohammedans, but there are few physicians in the camp accepting Jews, and such are employed without scandal or scruple. Therefore Mohammedans may be used for their service in that capacity. This reasoning entirely removed the scruples of Thomas de Vaux, who was particularly moved by the Latin quotation, as he did not understand a word of it. But the bishop proceeded with far less fluency, when he considered the possibility of the Saracens acting with bad faith. And here he came not to a speedy decision. The Baron showed him the letters of credence. He read and reread them, and compared the original with the translation. It is a dish choicelessly cooked, he said, to the pallet of King Richard, and I cannot but have my suspicions of the wily Saracen. They are curious in the art of poisons, and can so temper them, that they shall be weeks in acting upon the party. During which time the perpetrator has leisure to escape. They can impregnate cloth and leather, nay, even paper and parchment with the most subtle venom. Oh, a lady forgive me! And wherefore, knowing this, hold I these letters of credence so close to my face? Take them, Sir Thomas, take them speedily. Here he gave them at arm's length, and with some appearance of haste to the Baron. But come, my lord of Orcs, he continued, when read to the tend of this sixth squire, where we shall learn whether this hekeem hath really the art of curing which he professeth, ere we consider whether there be safety in permitting him to exercise his act upon King Richard. Yet hold! Let me first take my penchant box, for these fevers spread like an infection. I would advise you to use dried rosemary steeped in vinegar, my lord. I, too, know something of the healing art. I thank your reverent lordship. Reply, Thomas of Gilsland. But had I been accessible to the fever, I had caught it long since by the bed of my master. The bishop of Tyre blushed, for he had rather avoided the presence of the sick monarch, and he bid the Baron lead on. As they paused before the wretched hut in which Kenneth of the Leopard and his follower abode, the bishop said to D'Orcs, Now, for surety my lord, these Scottish knights have worse care for their followers than we of our dogs. Here is a knight, valiant they say in battle, and thought fitting to be grazed with charges of weight in time of truce, whose a squire of the body is lodged worse than the worst kennel-dog in England. What say you of your neighbours? That a master doth well enough for his servant, when he lodged with him in no worse dwelling than his own. Said to D'Orcs, and ended the hut, the bishop followed, not without evident reluctance. For though he lacked not courage in some respects, yet it was tempered with a strong and lively regard for his own safety. He recollected, however, the necessity there was for judging personally of the skill of the Arabian physician, and ended the hut with a statelyness of manner calculated, as he thought, to impose respect on the stranger. The prelate was indeed a striking and commanding figure. In his youth he had been eminently handsome, and even in age was unwilling to appear less so. His episcopal dress was of the richest fashion, trimmed with costly fur, and surrounded by a cope of curious needlework. The rings on his fingers were worth a goodly barony, and the hood which he wore, though now unclassed and thrown back for heat, had studs of pure gold to fasten it around his throat, and under his chin when he was so inclined. His long beard, now silvered with age, descended over his breast. One of two youthful acolytes who attended him, created an artificial shade, peculiar then to the east, by peering over his head an umbrella of palmetto leaves, while the other refreshed his reverent master by agitating a fan of peacock feathers. When the bishop of Tyre entered the hut of the Scottish Knight, the master was absent, and the Moorish physician, whom he had come to see, sat in the very posture in which Dvorak's had left him several hours before, cross-legged upon a mat made of twisted leaves, by the side of the patient, who appeared in deep slumber, and whose pulse he felt from time to time. The bishop remained standing before him in silence for two or three minutes, as if expecting some honourable salutation, or at least that the Saracen would seem struck with the dignity of his appearance. But Adonbek el-Hakim took no notice of him beyond a passing glance, and when the pre-lated length saluted him in the lingu franca current in the country, he only replied by the ordinary oriental greeting, Salam aleikum, peace be with you. Art thou a physician, infidel? said the bishop, somewhat mortified at this cold reception, I would speak with thee on that art. If thou knewest ought of medicine, answered el-Hakim, thou wouldst be aware that physicians hold no counsellor debate in the sick chamber of their patient. Here! He added, as the low growling of the stag-hound was heard from the inner hut. Even the dog might teach thee a lesson, ul-mat. His instinct teaches him to suppress his barking in the sick man's hearing. Come without the tent! said he, rising and leaching the way, if thou hast ought to say with me. Not to a stand in the plainness of the Saracen leach's dress, and his inferiority of size, when contrasted with the tall prelate and gigantic English baron, there was something striking in his manner and countenance, which prevented the bishop of Tyre from expressing strongly the displeasure he felt at this unceremonious rebuke. When without the hut, he gazed upon Adam Beck in silence for several minutes, before he could fix on the best manner to renew the conversation. No locks were seen under the high bonnet of the Arabian, which hid also part of a brow that seemed lofty and expanded, smooth and free from wrinkles, as were his cheeks, when they were seen under the shade of his long beard. We have elsewhere noticed the piercing quality of his dark eyes. The prelate, struck with his apparent youth, at length broke a pause, which to the other seemed in no haste to interrupt, by demanding of the Arabian how old he was. The years of ordinary men, said the Saracen, or counted by their wrinkles, those of sages by their studies, I dare not call myself older than a hundred revolutions of the Higheara. Open brackets, meaning that his attainments were those which might have been made in a hundred years. Close brackets. The baron of Gilsland, who took this for a literal assertion, that he was a century old, looked doubtably upon the prelate. Who, though he better understood the meaning of El-Hakim, answered his glance by mysteriously shaking his head. He resumed an error of importance, when he again authoritatively demanded what evidence a Donbeck could produce of his medical proficiency. He had the words of the mighty Saladin. Said the sage, touching his cap in sign of reverence. A word which was never broken towards friend or foe. What Nazarene, was thou demand more? I would have ocular proof of thy skill. Said the baron. And without it thou approaches not to the couch of King Richard. The praise of the physician, said the Arabian, is in the recovery of his patient. Behold this sergeant, whose blood has been dried up by the fever which has whitened your camp with skeletons, and against which the art of your Nazarene leeches hath been like a silken doublet against a lance of steel. Look at his fingers and arms, wasted like the claws and shanks of the crane. Death had this morning his clutch on him. But had Asriel been on one side of the couch, I, being on the other, his soul should not have been left from his body. Disturb me not with further questions, but await the critical minute, and behold in silent wonder the marvellous event. The physician had then recourse to his astrolabe, the Oracle of Eastern Science, and watching with grave precision, until the precise time of the evening prayer had arrived, he sunk on his knees, with his face turned to Mecca, and recited the petitions which closed the Muslim man's day of toil. The bishop and the English baron looked on each other, meanwhile, with symptoms of contempt and angered nation. But neither judged it fit to interrupt El-Hakim in his devotions, unholy as they considered them to be. The Arab wrote from the earth, on which he had prostrated himself, and walking into the hut where the patient lay extended, he drew a sponge from a small silver box, dipped perhaps in some aromatic distillation. For when he put it to the sleeper's nose, he sneezed, awoke, and looked wildly around. He was a ghastly spectacle as he sat up and was naked on his couch, the bones and cartilages as visible through the surface of his skin, as if they had never been clothed with flesh. His face was long and furrowed with wrinkles. But his eye, though it wandered at first, became gradually more settled. He seemed to be aware of the presence of his dignified visitors, for he attempted feebly to pull the covering from his head in token of reverence, as he inquired, in a subdued and submissive voice, for his master. Do you know us, Vassal? said the Lord of Gilsland. Not perfectly, my Lord, replied the squire faintly. My sleep has been long and full of dreams, yet I know that you are a great English Lord, as seameth by the Red Cross, and this holy prelate, whose blessing I crave on me a poor sinner. Thou hast it. Benedicto, Dominic, sit for biscombe. Said the prelate, making the sign of the cross, but without approaching nearer to the patient's bed. Your eye's witness, said the Arabian, the fever hath been subdued. He speaks with calmness and recollection. His pulse beats composedly as yours. Try his pulsations yourself. The prelate declined the experiment. But Thomas of Gilsland, more determined on making the trial, did so, and satisfied himself that the fever was indeed gone. This is most wonderful! said the night looking to the bishop. The man is assuredly cured. I must conduct this medicine apprecently to King Richard's tent. What thinks your reverence? Stay, let me finish one cure ere I commence another. Said the Arab. I will pass with you when I have given my patient the second cup of this most holy elixir. So saying he pulled out a silver cup, and filling it with water from a gird which stood by the bedside, he next drew forth a small silken bag made of network, twisted with silver, the contents of which the bystanders could not discover. And immersing it into the cup, continued to watch in silence during the space of five minutes. It seemed the spectators, as if some effervescence took place during the operation. But if so, it instantly subdued. Drink. Said the physician to the sick man. Sleep and awaken free from malady. And with this simple, seeming draught that will undertake to cure a monarch. Said the bishop of Tyre. I have cured a beggar as you may behold. Replied the sage. Are the kings a fraggastar made of other clay than the meanest of their subjects? Let us have him presently to the king. Said the baron of Gilsland. He hath shown that he possesses the secret which may restore his health. If he fails to exercise it, I will put himself past the power of medicine. As they were about to leave the hut, the sick man, raising his voice as much as his weakness permitted, exclaimed, Reverend Father, noble knight, and you kind leech. If you would have me sleep and recover, tell me in charity what his become of my dear master. He is upon a distant expedition, friend. Replied the prelate, on an honourable embassy which may detain him for some days. Nay! said the baron of Gilsland. Why deceive the poor fellow? Friend, thy master has returned to the camp, and you will presently see him. The invalid held up, as if in thankfulness, his wasted hands to heaven. And resisting no longer the soporiferous operation of the elixir, sunk down into a gentle sleep. You are a better physician than I, Sir Thomas, said the prelate. A soothing falsehood is fitter for a sick room than an unpleasing truth. How mean you, my Reverend Lord! said Divorced Hastily. Think you I would tell a falsehood to save the lives of a dozen such as he? You said—replied the bishop with manifest symptoms of alarm. You said the Asquire's master was returned. He, I mean, of the Cruchant Leopard. And he is returned, said Divorced. I spoke with him but a few hours since. This learned leech came in his company. Holy Virgin, why told you not of his return to me? said the bishop, in evident perturbation. Did I not say that this same night of the Leopard had returned in company with the physician? I thought I had. Replied Divorced carelessly. But what signified his return to the skill of the physician? Or the cure of his majesty? Much, Sir Thomas, it signified much. Said the bishop, clenching his hands, pressing his foot against the earth, and giving signs of impatience, as if in an involuntary manner. But where can he be gone now, this same night? God be with us, here may be some fatal errors. Yonder, Sir, in the outer space. Said Divorced, not without wonder at the bishop's emotion. Can probably tell us whether his master is gone. The lad was summoned, and in a language nearly incomprehensible to them, gave them at length to understand, that an officer had summoned his master to the royal tent, some time before their arrival at that of his master. The anxiety of the bishop appeared to rise to the highest. And became evident to Divorce, though neither an acute observer, nor of a suspicious temper. But with his anxiety seemed to increase his wish to keep it subdued and unobserved. He took a hasty leave of Divorce, who looked after him with astonishment, and, after shrugging his shoulders in silent wonder, proceeded to conduct the Arabian physician to the tent of King Richard. End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 of the Talisman This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lizzie Driver. The Talisman by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter 9 This is the Prince of Leeches, Fever, Plague, Cold Room, and Hot Podogara. Do but look on him, and quit their grasp upon the tortured sinews. Anonymous The Baron of Girlsland walked with slow step and an anxious countenance towards the Royal Pavilion. He had much diffidence of his own capacity, except in a field of battle, and conscious of no very acute intellect, was usually contented to wander at circumstances, which a man of lively imagination would have endeavoured to investigate and understand, or at least would have made the subject a speculation. But it seemed very extraordinary, even to him, that the attention of the bishop should have been at once abstracted, from all reflection on the marvellous cure which they had witnessed, and upon the probability it afforded of Richard being restored to health, by what seemed a very trivial piece of information. Announcing the motions of a beggardly Scottish knight. Then whom Thomas of Girlsland knew nothing within the circle of gentle blood, more unimportant or contemptible. And, despite his usual habit of passively beholding passing events, the Baron's spirit toiled with unwanted attempts to form conjectures on the cause. At length the idea at once occurred to him, that the whole might be a conspiracy against King Richard, formed within the camp of the Allies, and to which the bishop, who was by some represented as a politic and unscrupulous person, was not unlikely to have been an accessory. It was true that, in his own opinion, there existed no character so perfect as that of his master. For Richard, being the flower of chivalry, and the chief of Christian leaders, and obeying in all points the commands of Holy Church, devolks' ideas of perfection went no further. Still, he knew that, however unworthyly, it had always been his master's fate to draw as much reproach and dislike as honour and attachment from the display of his great qualities. And that in the very camp, and amongst his princes bound by oath to the Crusade, were many who would have sacrificed all hope of victory over the Saracens, to the pleasure of ruining, or at least of humbling, Richard of England. "'Wherefore?' said the baron to himself, it is in no sense impossible, that this Elohim, with this his cure or seeming cure, wrought on the body of the Scottish squire, made me nothing but a trick, to which he of the leopard may be accessory, and wherein the bishop of Tyre, pre-late as he is, may have some share. This hypothesis, indeed, could not be so easily reconciled, with the alarm manifested by the bishop on learning that, contrary to his expectation, the Scottish knight had suddenly returned to the Crusader's camp, but devolks was influenced only by his general prejudices, which dictated to him the assured belief that a wily Italian priest, a false-hearted scot, and an infidel physician, formed a set of ingredients from which all evil, and no good, was likely to be extracted. He resolved, however, to lay his scruples bluntly before the king, of whose judgment he had nearly as high opinion as of his fellow. Meanwhile, events had taken place very contrary to the suppositions which Thomas D'Vorx had entertained. Scarce had he left the royal pavilion, when betwixt the impatience of the fever, and that which was natural to his disposition. Richard began to murmur at his delay, and express an earnest desire for his return. He had seen enough to try to reason himself out of this irritation, which greatly increased his bodily malady. He wearied his attendance by demanding from them amusements, and the brevery of the priest, the romance of the clerk, even the harp of his favourite ministeral, were had recourse to in vain. At length, some two hours before sundown, and long, therefore, ere he could expect a satisfactory account of the process of the cure which the Moor or Arabian had undertaken. He sent, as we have already heard, a messenger command in the attendance of the night of the leopard. Determined to soothe his impatience by obtaining from Sir Kenneth, a more particular account of the cause of his absence from the camp, and the circumstances of his meeting with the celebrated physician. The Scottish night, thus summoned, entered the royal presence as one who was no stranger to such scenes. He was scarcely known to the King of England, even by sight, although, to natures of his rank, as devout in the adoration of the lady of his secret heart, he had never been absent on those occasions, when the munificent cent hospitality of England opened the court of its monarch to all who held a certain rank in chivalry. The King gazed fixedly on Sir Kenneth approaching his bedside. While the night bent his knee for a moment, then arose, and stood before him in a posture of deference, but not of subversions or humility, as became an officer in the presence of his sovereign. Thy name, said the King, is Kenneth of the Leopard, from whom has thou degree of knighthood? I took it from the sword of William, the lion, King of Scotland, replied the Scott. A weapon, said the King, well worthy to confer honour, nor has it been laid on an undeserving shoulder. We have seen thee bear thyself nightly and valently impress a battle, when most need there was, and thou hadst not been yet to learn that thy deserts were known to us, but that thy presumption and other points has been such that thy services can challenge no better reward than that of pardon for thy transgression. What sayest thou, huh? Kenneth attempted to speak, but was unable to express himself distinctly. The consciousness of his two ambitious love, and the keen falcon glance, with which the cordilion seemed to penetrate his innermost soul, combined to disconsert him. And yet, said the King, although soldiers should obey command, and fossils be respectful towards their superiors, we might forgive a brave knight greater offence than the keeping a simple hound, though it were contrary to our express public ordinance. Richard kept his eye fixed on the Scott's face, the held and beholding, smiling inwardly at the relief produced by the turn he had given to his general accusation. So please, ye my lord, said the Scott, your Majesty must be good to us poor gentleman of Scotland in this matter. We are far from home, scant of revenues, and cannot support ourselves as your wealthy nobles, who have credit at the lombards. The Saracen shall feel our blows the harder that we eat a piece of dried venison from time to time, with our herbs and barley cakes. It's skills not asking my leave, said Richard, since Thomas DeVox, who doth like all around me, that which is fitest in his own eye, hath already given thee permission for hunting and hawking. For hunting only, and please you, said the Scott, but if it please your Majesty to indulge me with the privilege of hawking also, and you list to trust me with a falcon on fist, I trust I could supply your royal mess with some choice, waterfowl. I dread me, if thou has but the falcon, said the King, thou would scarce wait for the permission. I would, while it is said abroad, that we of the line of Anjou recent offence against our forest laws as highly as we would do treason against our crown. To brave and worthy men, however, we could pardon either Miss Domina. But enough of this. I desire to know of you, sir Knight, wherefore, and by whose authority, you took this recent journey to the wilderness of the Dead Sea and in Gaddy. By order replied the Knight of the Council of Princes of the Holy Crusade. And how dead any one gives such an order, when I, not the least surely in the League, was unacquainted with it. It was not my part, please, your Highness, said the Scott, to inquire into such particulars. I am a soldier of the cross, serving doubtless for the present under your Highness's banner, and proud of the permission to do so, but still one who has taken on him the holy symbol for the rights of Christianity, and the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, and bound, therefore, to obey without question the order of the Princes and Chiefs, by whom the blessed enterprise is directed. That in disposition should succlude, I trust for but a short time, your Highness from their councils, in which you hold so potential a voice, I must lament with all Christendom, but as a soldier I must obey those on whom the lawful right of command devolves, or set but an evil example in the Christian camp. Thou sayest well, said King Richard, and the blameless not with thee, but with those with whom, when it shall please heaven to rise me from this accursed bit of pain and inactivity, I hope to reckon roundly. What was the purport of thy message? Me thinks, and please your Highness, replied Sir Kenneth, that were best asked of those who sent me, and who can render the reasons of mine errant, whereas I can only tell its outward form and purport. Pult or not with me, Sir Scott, it were ill for thy safety, said the irritable monarch. My safety, my lord, replied the night firmly, I cast behind me as a regardless thing, when I vowed myself to his enterprise, looking rather to my immortal welfare, than to that which concerns my earthly body. By the mass, said King Richard, thou art a brave fellow. Hark thee, Sir Knight, I love the Scottish people. They are hardy, though dogged and stubborn, and I think true men in the main, though the necessity of state has sometimes constrained them to be dissemblers. I deserve some love at their hand, for I have voluntarily done what they could not by arms have exhorted from me any more than from my predecessors. I have re-established the fortress of Roxburgh and Burwick, which lay in pledge to England. I have restored your ancient boundaries. And finally I have renounced a claim to homage upon the crown of England, which I thought unjustly forced upon you. I have endeavoured to make honourable and independent friends, where former kings of England attempted only to compel unwilling and rebellious vassals. All this you have done, my Lord King, said Sir Kenneth, bowing. All this you have done by a royal treaty with our sovereign at Canterbury. Therefore have you me and many better Scottish men, making war against the infidels under your banner. Who else have been ravaging your frontiers in England? If their numbers are now few, it is because their lives have been freely waged and wasted. I grant it is true, said the King, and for the good offices I have done in your land, I require you to remember that, as a principal member of the Christian League, I have a right to know the negotiations of my confederates. Do me, therefore, the justice to tell me what I have a title to be acquainted with, and which I am certain to know more truly from you than from others. My Lord, said the Scott, thus conjured I will speak the truth, for I well believe that your purposes towards the principal object of our expedition are single-hearted and honest, and it is more than I dare warrant for others of the Holy League. Be pleased, therefore, to know my charge was to propose, through the medium of the hermit of Engaddy, a holy man respected and protected by Saladin himself. A continuation of the truth, I doubt not, said Richard, hastily interrupting him. No, by St Andrew my liege, said the Scottish Knight, but the establishment of a lasting peace, and the withdrawing of our armies from Palestine. St George, said Richard in astonishment, ill as I have justly thought of them, I could not have dreamed they would have humbled themselves to such dishonour. Speak, Sir Kenneth, with what will did you carry such a message? With right good will, my Lord, said Kenneth, because, when we had lost our noble leader, unto whose guidance alone I hoped for victory, I saw none who could succeed him, likely to lead us to conquest, and I accounted it well in such circumstances to avoid defeat. And on what conditions was this hopeful peace to be contracted? said King Richard, painfully suppressing the passion with which his heart was almost bursting. These were not entrusted to me, my Lord. Answer the Knight of the Cruchant Leopard. I delivered them seal to the hermit. And for what hold you this reverent hermit? For fool, madman, traitor or saint? said Richard. His folly-sire replied the shrewed Scottishman. I hold to be assumed to win favour and reverence from the Pinamere, who regard madman as the inspired of heaven. At least it seemed to me as exhibited only occasionally, and not as mixing, like natural folly, with the general tenor of his mind. Shrewdly replied. Said the Monarch, throwing himself back on his couch, from which he had half raised himself. Now of his penitence, his penitence, continued Kenneth, appears to me sincere, and the fruits of remorse for some dreadful crime, for which he seems, in his own opinion, condemned to reprobation. And for his policy? said King Richard. Me thanks, my Lord! said the Scottish Knight. He despairs of the security of Palestine, as of his own salvation, by any means short of a miracle. At least, since the arm of Richard of England has ceased to strike for it. And therefore the coward policy of this hermit is like that of these miserable princes, who, forgetful of their knighthood and their faith, are only resolved in determined when the question is retreat. And rather than go forward against an armed Saracen, would trample in their flight over a dying ally. Might I so far presume, my Lord King? said the Scottish Knight. This discourse but heats your disease. The enemy from which Christianity dreads more evil, than from armed hosts of infidels. The countenance of King Richard was indeed more flashed, and his action became more feverishly vehement. As with clenched hand, extended arm, and flashing eyes, he seemed at once to suffer under bodily pain. And at the same time under vexation of mind, while his high spirit led him to speak on, as if in contempt of both. You can flatter Sir Knight, he said, but you escape me not. I must know more from you than you have yet told me. Saw you my royal consort when at Ingadi? To my knowledge, no, my Lord. Replied Sir Kenneth, with considerable perturbation, for he remembered the midnight procession, in the chapel of the rocks. I ask you, said the King in a sterner voice, whether you were not in the chapel of the Carmelite nuns at Ingadi, and there saw Bernard Ngaria, Queen of England, and the ladies of her court, who went thither on pilgrimage. My Lord, said Sir Kenneth, I will speak the truth as in the confessional. In the subterranean chapel to which the anchorite conducted me, I beheld a choir of ladies do homage to a relic of the highest sanctity, but as I saw not their faces, nor heard their voices, and less than the hymns which they chanted, I cannot tell whether the Queen of England was of the bevy. And was there no one of these ladies known to you? Sir Kenneth stood silent. I ask you, said Richard, raising himself on his elbow, as a knight and a gentleman, and I shall know by your answer how you value either character. Did you or did you not know any lady amongst that band of worshippers? My Lord, said Kenneth, not without much hesitation. I might guess. And I also may guess, said the King frowning sternly. But it is enough, lepid as you are, Sir Knight, beware tempting the lion's paw. Hark ye, to become enamoured of the moon would be but an act of folly. But to leap from the battlements of a lofty tower, in the wild hope of coming within a sphere, was self-destructive madness. At this moment some bustling was heard in the outer apartment. And the King, hastily changing to his more natural manner, said, enough, begun, speeded of orcs, and sent him hither with the Arabian physician, my life for the faith of the sultan. Would he but abjure his false law, I would aid him with my sword to drive this scum of French and Austrians from his dominions, and think Palestine is well ruled by him, as when her kings were anointed by the decree of heaven itself. The knight of the lepid retired, and presently afterwards the chamberlain announced, a deputation from the council, who had come to wait on the majesty of England. It is well they allow the time living yet, was his reply. Who are the Reverend Ambassadors? Grandmaster of the Templars, and the Marques of Montserrat. Our brother of France loves not sick beds, said Richard. Yet had Philip been ill, I had stood by his couch long since. Jocelyn, lay me the couch more fairly, it is tumbled like a stormy sea. Reach me on to steel mirror, pass a comb through my hair and beard. They look indeed like a lion's mane, than a Christian man's locks. Bring water. My lord, said the trembling chamberlain, the leeches say that cold water may be fatal. To the foul fiend with the leeches, applied the monarch. If they cannot cure me, think you I will allow them to torment me. There, then, he said, after having made his abortions. Admit the worshipful envoys. They will now, I think, scarcely see that the disease has made Richard negligent of his person. The celebrated master of the Templars was a tall, thin, war-worn man, with a slow yet penetrating eye, and a brown which a thousand dark intrigues had stamped a portion of their obscurity, at the head of that singular body, to whom their order was everything, and their individuality nothing, seeking the advancement of its power, even at the hazard of that very religion, which the fraternity were originally associated to protect, accused of heresy and witchcraft, although by their character Christian priests, suspected of secret league with the soldern, though by oath devoted to the protection of the Holy Temple or its recovery, the whole order, and the whole personal character of its commander, or grandmaster, was a riddle at the exposition of which most men shuddered. The grandmaster was dressed in his white robes of solemnity, and he bore the abacus, a mystic staff of office, the peculiar form of which has given rise to such singular conjectures and commentaries. Leading to suspicions that this celebrated fraternity of Christian knights were embodied under the foulest symbols of paganism. Conrad of Montserrat had a much more pleasing exterior than the dark and mysterious pre-soldier by whom he was accompanied. He was a handsome man of middle age, or something past that term, bold in the field, sagacious in counsel, gay and gallant in times of festivity. But, on the other hand, he was generally accused of versatility, of a narrow and selfish ambition, of a desire to extend his own principality without regard to the will of the Latin Kingdom of Palestine, and of seeking his own interest by private negotiations for Saladin to the prejudice of the Christian legures. When the usual salutations had been made by these dignitaries, and courtesely returned by King Richard, the Marquesa Montserrat commenced an explanation of the motives of their visit, sent, as he said they were, by the anxious kings and princes who composed the Council of the Crusaders to inquire into the health of the magnanimous ally, the valiant king of England. We know the importance in which the princes of the Council hold our health, replied the English king, and are well aware how much they must have suffered by suppressing all curiosity concerning it for fourteen days, for fear doubtless of aggravating our disorder, by showing their anxiety regarding the event, the flow of the Marquesa's eloquence being checked, and he himself thrown into some confusion by this reply. His more austere companion took up the thread of the conversation, and with as much dry and brief gravity as was consistent with the presence which he addressed, informed the king that they came from the Council to pray, in the name of Christiandam, that he would not suffer his health to be tempered with by an infidel physician, said to be dispatched by Saladin, until the Council had taken measures to remove or confirm the suspicion which they at present conceived and attach itself to the mission of such a person, Grand Master of the Holy and Valiant Order of Night's Templars, and you, most noble Marquesa of Montserrat? replied Richard. If it please you to retire into the adjoining pavilion, you shall presently see what account we make of the tender remonstrances of our royal and princely colleagues in his religious warfare. The Marquesa and Grand Master retired accordingly, nor had they been many minutes in the outward pavilion, when the eastern physician arrived, accompanied by the Baron of Gilsland and Kenneth of Scotland. The Baron, however, was a little later of entering the tent than the other two, stopping by chance to issue some orders to the warders without. As the Arabian physician entered, he made his abasance, after the Oriental fashion, to the Marquesa and Grand Master, whose dignity was apparent both from their appearance and their bearing. The Grand Master returned the salutation with an expression of disdainful coldness, the Marquesa with the popular courtesy which he habitually practiced, to men of every rank and nation. There was a pause, for the Scottish night, waiting for the arrival of divorce, presumed not, of his own authority, to enter the tent of the King of England. And during his interval the Grand Master sternly demanded of the Muslim, infidel, herself the courage to practice thine art upon the person of an anointed sovereign of the Christian host. The son of Allah, answered the sage, shines on the Nazarene as well as on the true believer, and his servant dare make no distinction betwixt them, when called on to exercise the art of healing. Miss believing Hakeem, said the Grand Master, or whatsoever they call thee for an unbaptised slave of darkness, does thou well know that thou shalt be torn asunder by wild horses, should King Richard die under thy charge? That were a hard justice, answered the physician, saying that I can but use human means, and that the issue is written in the Book of Light. Name Reverend and Valiant Grand Master. So the Marquesa Montserrat, consider that this learned man is not acquainted with our Christian order, adopted into the fear of God, and for the safety of his anointed. Be it known to thee, great physician, whose skill we doubt not, that your wisest course is to repair to the presence of the illustrious counsel of our Holy League, and there to give account and reckoning to such wise and learned leeches as they shall nominate, concerning your means of process and cure of this illustrious patient. So shall you escape all the danger which, rashly taken such a high matter upon your sole answer, you may else most likely incur. My lords, Sadele Hakeem, I understand you well, but knowledge hath his champions as well as your military art. Nay, hath sometimes had his martyrs as well as religion. I have the command of my sovereign, the soul Dan Saladin, to heal this Nazarene king, and with the blessing of the prophet I will obey his commands. If I fail, ye were swords thirsting for the blood of the faithful, and I prefer my body to your weapons. But I will not reason with one uncircumcised upon the virtue of the medicines of which I have obtained knowledge through the grace of the prophet, and I pray you interpose no delay between me and my office. Who talks of delay? said the baron de Vox, hastily entering the tent. We have had but too much already. I salute you, my lord of Montserrat, and you, valiant grandmaster. But I must presently pass with this learned physician to the bedside of my master. My lord! said the Marquesse in Norman French, or in the language of we as it was then called. Are you well advised that we come to expostulate, on the part of the Council of the Monarchs and Princes of the Crusade, against the risk of permitting an infidel and eastern physician, to temper with the health so valuable as that of your master, King Richard? Noble Lord Marquesse replied the Englishman bluntly, I can neither use many words, nor do I delight in listening to them. Moreover, I am much more ready to believe what my eyes have seen than what my ears have heard. I am satisfied that this heathen can cure the sickness of King Richard, and I believe and trust he will labour to do so. Time is precious. If Mohammed, may God's curse be on him, stood at the door of the tent, with such fair purpose as this Adam-Beck-El-Hakeem entertains, I would hold its sin to delay him for a minute. So give ye God in, my lords. Nay, but, said Conrad of Montserrat, the King himself said we should be present when this same physician dealt upon him. The Baron whispered the Chamberlain, probably to know whether the Marquesse spoke truly, and then replied, My lords, if you will hold your patience, you are welcome to enter with us. But, if you interrupt by action or threat, this accomplished physician in his duty, be it known that, without respect to your high quality, I will enforce your absence from Richard's tent. For no, I am so well satisfied at the virtue of this man's medicines, that were Richard himself to refuse them. By our Lady of Lenecost, I think I could find it in my heart to force him to take the means of his cure, whether he would or no. Move on, Wood-El-Hakeem. The last word was spoken in the lingua franca, and instantly obeyed by the physician. The Grandmaster looked grimly on the unceremonious old soldier. But, on exchanging a glance with the Marquesse, smoothed his frowning brow as well as he could, and both followed to Vorks and the Arabian into the inner tent, where Richard lay expecting them. With that impatience with which the sick man watches the step of his physician, Sir Kenneth, whose attendance seemed neither asked nor prohibited, felt himself by the circumstances in which he stood, entitled to follow these high dignitaries. But, conscious of his inferior power and rank, remained aloof during the scene which took place. Richard, when they entered his apartment, immediately exclaimed, So ho! a goodly fellowship come to see Richard take his leap into the dark. My noble allies, I greet you as the representatives of our assembled league. Richard will again be amongst you in his former fashion, or you shall bear to the grave what is left of him. Divorks, Livesey or Dicey, though has the thanks of thy Prince. There is yet another, but this fever hath wasted my eyesight. What! the bold scot, who would climb heaven without a ladder, he is welcome to. Come, Sir Hakeem, to the work, to the work! The physician, who had already informed himself of the various symptoms of the king's illness, now felt his pulse for a long time, and with deep attention, while all around stood silent and in breath this expectation. The sage next filled a cup with spring water, and dipped into it the small red purse, which as formerly he took from his bosom. When he seemed to think it sufficiently medicated, he was about to offer it to the sovereign, who prevented him by saying, Hold an instant, thou hast felt my pulse, let me lay my finger on thine. I too, as becomes a good night, know something of thine art. The Arabian yielded his hand without hesitation, and his long slender dark fingers were, for an instant, enclosed and almost buried in the large enfoldment of King Richard's hand. His blood beats as calm as an infant, said the king, so throbs not theirs who poison princes. Devorks, whether we live or die, dismisses a king with honour and safety. Commanders, friend, to the noble Saladin. Should I die, it is without doubt of his faith. Should I live, it will be to thank him as a warrior would desire to be thanked. He then raised himself in bed, took the cup in his hand, and turned into the Marques and the Grand Master. Mark what I say, and let my royal brethren pledge me in cypress wine, to the immortal honour of the first crusader who shall strike lance or sword on the gate of Jerusalem, and to the shame and internal infamy of whom so ever shall turn back from the plough on which he had laid his hand. He drank the cup to the bottom, resigned it to the Arabian, and sunk back as if exhausted, upon the cushions which were arranged to receive him. The physician then, with silent but expressive signs, directed that all should leave the tent, accepting himself and Devorks, whom no remonstrance could induce to withdraw. The apartment was cleared accordingly. The Marques of Montserrat and the Grand Master of the Night's Templars stood together in the front of the royal pavilion, within which the singular scene had passed, and beheld a strong guard of bills and bows drawn out from a circle around it, and keep at a distance all which might disturb the sleeping monarch. The soldiers wore the downcast silent and sun and looks, with which they trailed their arms at a funeral, and stepped with such caution that you could not hear a buckler ring or a sword clatter, though so many men in armour were moving around the tent. They lowered their weapons in deep reverence, as the dignitaries passed through their files, but with the same profound silence. There is a change of cheer among these island dogs. said the Grand Master to Conrad, when they had passed Richard's Guards. What horse to malt and revel used to be before this pavilion? Nought but pitching the bar, hurling the ball, wrestling, roaring of songs, clattering of wine-pots, and quaffing of flagons among these burly yeoman, as if they were holding some country-wake, with a may-pole in the midst of them, instead of a royal standard. Mastiffs are a faithful race, said Conrad, and the king their master has won their love by being ready to wrestle, brawl, or revel amongst the foremost of them, whenever the humour seized him. He is totally compounded of humours, said the Grand Master, marked you the pledge he gave us, instead of a prayer over his Grace-Cup yonder. He would have felt it a Grace-Cup and a well-spiced one, too, said the Marques, were saladin like any other Turk that ever wore turban, or turned him to Mecca at call of the Mazine. But he affects faith and honour and generosity, as if it were for an unbaptised dog like him, to practise the virtuous bearing of a Christian knight. It is said he have applied to Richard to be admitted with the Pale of Chivalry. By St. Bernard, exclaimed the Grand Master, it were time to throw off our belts and spur, Sir Conrad, deface our immoral bearings, and renounce our burganets, if the highest honour of Christianity were conferred on an unchristian Turk of ten pence. You rate the sold-an cheap, replied the Marques. Yet, though he be a likely man, I have seen a better heathen sold for forty pence at the Bagneo. They were now near their horses, which stood at some distance from the royal tent, prancing among the gallant train of esquires and pages by whom they were attended. When Conrad, after a moment's pause, proposed that they should enjoy the coolness of the evening breeze which had arisen, and, dismissing their steeds in attendance, walked homewards to their own quarters, through the lines of the extended Christian camp. The Grand Master assented, and they proceeded to walk together accordingly. Avoiding, as if by mutual consent, the more inhabited parts of the canvas city, and tracing the broad esplanade which lay between the tents and the external defences, where they could converse in private and unmarked, saved by the sentinels as they passed them. They spoke for a time upon the military points and preparations for defences. But this sort of discourse, in which neither seemed to take interest, at length died away, and there was a long pause, which terminated by the Marquesa Montserrat, stopping short, like a man who has formed a sudden resolution, and gazing for some moments on the dark, inflexible countenance of the Grand Master, he at length addressed in thus, Might it consist with your valour and sanctity? Reverend Sir Giles Amory, I would pray you for once to lay aside the dark visor which you wear, and to converse with a friend barefaced. The Templar half smiled. There are light-coloured masks, he said, as well as dark visors, and the one conceals the natural features as completely as the other. Be it so, said the Marques, pitting his hand to his chin, and withdrawing it with the action of one who amasks himself. There lies my disguise, and now, what think you, as touching the interests of your own order, of the prospects of this crusade? This is tearing the veil from my own thoughts, rather than exposing your own. Said the Grand Master. Yet I will reply with a parable told me by a Santon of the desert. A certain farmer prayed to Heaven for rain, and murmured when it fell not as his need. To punish his patience, Allah, said the Santon, said the Euphrates upon his farm, and he was destroyed, with all his possessions, even by the granting of his own wishes. Most truly spoken, said the Marques Conrad, would that the ocean had swallowed up nineteen parts of the armament of these western princes. What remained, we better have served the purpose of the Christian nobles of Palestine, the wretched remnant of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem. Left to ourselves, we might have bent to the storm. Or moderately supported with money and troops, we might have compelled Saladin to respect our valor, and grant us peace and protection on easy terms. But from the extremity of danger with which this powerful crusade threatens the Sultan, we cannot suppose, should it pass over, that the Sarasim will suffer any one of us to hold possessions or principalities in Syria, far less permit the existence of the Christian military fraternities, from whom they have experienced so much mischief. I, but, said the Templar, these adventurous crusaders may succeed, and again plant the cross on the bulwarks of Zion. And what will that advantage, either the order of the Templars, or Conrad of Montserrat? said the Marques. You, it may advantage, replied the Grand Master. Conrad of Montserrat might become Conrad, King of Jerusalem. That sounds like something, said the Marques. And yet it rings but hollow. Godfrey of Brouillon might well choose the crown of thorn to his emblem. Grand Master, I will confess to you I have caught some attachment to the eastern form of government. A pure and simple monarchy should consist but of kings and subjects, such is the simple and primitive structure, a shepherd in his flock. All this internal chain of feudal dependence is artificial and sophisticated, and I would rather hold the baton of my poor Marquesat with a firm grip, and wield it after my pleasure, than the sceptre of a monarch, to be in effect restrained and curved by the will of as many proud feudal barons, as hold the land under the aces of Jerusalem. Open bracket. The aces de Jerusalem were the digest of feudal law, composed by Godfrey of Brouillon from the government of the Latin Kingdom of Palestine, when reconquered from the Saracens. It was composed with advice of the patriarch and barons, the clergy in laity, and his, says the historian Gibbon, a precious monument of feudatory jurisprudence, founded upon those principles of freedom which were essential to the system. Close bracket. A king should tread freely, Grand Master, and should not be controlled by here a ditch, and there a fence, here a feudal privilege, and there a male clad baron with his sword in his hand to maintain it, to sum the whole. I am aware that Guy de Lucigan's claims to the throne would be preferred to mine, if Richard recovers, and has ought to say in the choice. Enough, said the Grand Master. Thou has indeed convinced me of thy sincerity. Others may hold the same opinions, but few, save Conrad de Montserrat, dared frankly avail that he desires not the restitution of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but rather prefers being master a portion of its fragments, like the barbarous islanders, who labor not for the deliverance of a goodly vessel from the billows, expecting rather to enrich themselves at the expense of the wreck. Thou will not betray my counsel? said Conrad, looking sharply and suspiciously. Know for certain that my tongue shall never wrong my head, nor my hand forsake the defence of either. Impeach me, if thou wilt. I am prepared to defend myself in the list against the best Templar who ever laid lance in rest. Yet thou start somewhat suddenly for so bold a steed. said the Grand Master. However, I swear to thee by the Holy Temple, which our order is sworn to defend, that I will keep counsel with thee as a true comrade. By which Temple? said the Marquesum Montserrat, whose love or sarcasm often outrun his policy and discretion. Swear is thou by that on the hill of Zion, which was built by King Solomon, or by that symbolical, emblematical edifice, which is said to be spoken of in the council holds in the vaults of your preceptories, as something which infers the aggrandisement of thy valiant, invenerable order. The Templar scaled upon him with an eye of death, but answered calmly, By whatever temple I swear, be assured, Lord Marques, my oath is sacred. I would I knew how to bind thee by one of equal obligation. I will swear truth to thee, said the Marques, laughing. By the Earl's Coronet, which I hope to convert ere these wars are over into something better, it feels cold on my brow, that same slight coronal. A duke's cap of maintenance were a better protection against such a night breeze as now blows, and a king's crown more preferable still, being lined with comfortable ermine and velvet. In a word, our interests bind us together. For think not, Lord Grand Master, that were these allied princes to regain Jerusalem, and place a king of their own choosing there, they would suffer your order, any more than my poor Marquesat, to retain the independence which we now hold. No, by our Lady, in such case, the proud knights of St John must again spread plasters and dress plague-sores in the hospitals. And you, most pussiant and venerable knights of the Temple, must return to your condition of simple men at arms, sleep three on a pallet, and mount two upon one horse. As your present seal still expresses to have been your ancient, most simple custom. The rank, privileges, and opulence of our order prevent so much degradation as you threaten, said the Templar Hortley. These are your bane, said Conrad of Montserrat, and you, as well as I, Reverend Grand Master. Know that, were the allied princes to be successful in Palestine, it would be their first point of policy, to abate the independence of your order, which but for the protection of our Holy Father the Pope, and the necessity of employing your valour in the conquest of Palestine, you would long since have expired. Give them complete success, and you will be flung aside, as the splinters of a broken lance are tossed out of the tiltyard. There may be truth in what you say. Said the Templar, darkly smiling. But what were our hopes should the allies withdraw their forces, and leave Palestine in the grasp of Saladin? Great and assured, replied Conrad, the Saldan would give large provinces to maintain at behest a body of well-appointed Frankish lances. In Egypt, in Persia, a hundred such auxiliaries, joined to his own light cavalry, would turn the battle against the most fearful odds. This dependence would be but for a time. Perhaps during the life of this enterprising Saldan, but in the East empires arise like mushrooms. Suppose him dead, and thus strengthened with the constant succession of fiery and adventurous spirits from Europe, what might we not hope to achieve, uncontrolled by these monarchs, whose dignity throws us at present into the shade? And were they to remain here, and succeed in his expedition, would willingly consign us forever to degradation and dependence? You say well, my lord, said the Grand Master, and your words find an echo in my bosom. Yet we must be cautious. Philip of France is wise as well as valiant. True, and will be therefore the more easily diverted from our expedition to itch, in a moment of enthusiasm, or urged by his nobles, he rashly bound himself. He is jealous of King Richard, his natural enemy, and longs to return to prosecute plans of ambition nearer to Paris and Palestine. Any fear pretence will serve him for withdrawing from a scene in which he is aware he is wasting the force of his kingdom. And the Duke of Austria, said the Templar. Oh, touching the Duke, returned Conrad. His self-conceit and folly lead him to the same conclusions as do Philip's policy and wisdom. He concedes himself. God helped the while, and greatly treated, because men's mouths, even those of his own mind-singers, are filled with the praises of King Richard, whom he fears and hates, and in whose harm he would rejoice, like those unbred dastardly curses, who, if the foremost of the pack is hurt by the grip of the wolf, are much more likely to assail the sufferer from behind than to come to his assistance. But wherefore, to lie this to thee, save to show the time in sincerity and desiring, that this league be broken up, and the country freed of these great monarchs with their hosts. And thou, well-knowest, and hast seen thyself, how all the princes of influence and power, one alone accepted, are eager to enter into treaty with the sold-an. I acknowledge it, said the Templar. He were blind that he had not seen this in the last deliberations. But lift thy mask an inch higher, and tell me thy real reason for pressing upon the council, that an old and Englishman, or Scott, or whatever you call yonder night of the leopard, to carry their proposals for a treaty. There was a policy in it, replied the Italian. His character of native Britain was sufficient to meet what Saladin required, who knew him to belong to the band of Richard, while his character of Scott, and certain other personal grudges which I what of, rendered it most unlikely that a renvoi should, on his return, hold any communication with the sick-bit of Richard, to whom his presence was ever unacceptable. Oh, to fine-spun policy, said the Grand Master. Trust me, the Italian spider's webs will never bind this unshawn Samson of the Isle. Well, if you can do it with new cords, and those are the toughest. See you not that the envoy whom you have selected so carefully have bought us, in this physician, the means of restoring the line-hearted, bullnecked Englishman to prosecute his crusading enterprise, and as soon as he is able once more to rush on. Which of the princes dare hold back? They must follow him for very shame, although they would march under the banner of Satan as soon. Be content, said Conrad Montserrat. Hear this physician, if he work by anything short of miraculous agency, can accomplish Richard's cure. It may be possible to put some open rupture betwixt the Frenchman, at least the Austrian, and his allies of England, so that the breach shall be irreconcilable. And Richard may arise from his bed, perhaps to command his own native troops, but never again, by his sole energy, to wield the force of the whole crusade. Thou art a willing archer, said the Templar. But, Conrad Montserrat, the bow is overslacked to carry an arrow to the mark. He then stopped short, cast a suspicious glance to see that no one overheard him. And, taking Conrad by the hand, pressed it eagerly as he looked the Italian in the face, and repeated slowly, Richard arise from his bed, sayest thou. Conrad, he must never arise. The Marquess of Montserrat started. What! spoke you of Richard of England, of Corde Leon, the champion of Christiandum? His cheek turned pale, and his knees trembled as he spoke. The Templar looked at him, with his iron visage contorted into a smile of contempt. Knowest thou what thou looks like, Sir Conrad, at this moment? Not like the politic and valiant Marquess of Montserrat. Not like him who would direct to the Council of Princes and determine the fate of empires. But like a novice, who, stumbling upon a conjection, in his master's book of Greymyre, has raised the devil when he least thought of it, and now stands terrified at the spirit which appears before him. I grant you, said Conrad, recovering himself, that, unless some other road could be discovered, thou hast hinted at that which leads most direct to our purpose. But, blessed Mary, we shall become the curse of all Europe, the malediction of everyone, from the Pope on his throne, to the very bigger at the church gate, who, ragged and leperous, in the last extremity of human wretchedness, shall bless himself that he is neither Giles Amory, nor Conrad of Montserrat. If thou takest it thus, said the Grand Master, with the same composure which characterised him all through this remarkable dialogue. Let us hold, there is nothing past between us, that we have spoken in our sleep, have awakened, and the vision is gone. It can never depart, answered Conrad. Visions of dukeled crowns and kingly diadems are, indeed, somewhat tenacious of their place in the imagination, replied the Grand Master. Well, answered Conrad, let me but first try to break peace between Austria and England. They parted. Conrad remained standing still upon the spot, and watching the flowing white cloak of the Templar as he stalked slowly away, and gradually disappeared amid the fast-sinking darkness of the Oriental Night. Proud, ambitious, unscrupulous, and politic, the Marques of Montserrat was not yet cruel by nature. He was a voluptuary, and an epicurean, and, like many who profess his character, was a verse even upon selfish motives, from inflicting pain or witnessing acts of cruelty. And he retained also a general sense of respect for his own reputation, which sometimes supplies the want of the better principle by which reputation is to be maintained. I have, he said, as his eyes still watched the point at which he had last seen the slight wave of the Templar's mantle. I have, in truth, raised the devil with a vengeance. Who would have thought this stern, ascetic Grand Master, whose whole fortune and misfortune is merged in that of his order? Would we willing to do more for its advancement than I who labour for my own interest? To check this wild crusade was my motive indeed, but I durst not think on the ready mode which this determined priest has dared to suggest. Yet it is the surest, perhaps even the safest. Such were the Marques's meditations, when his muttered soliloquy was broken by a voice from a little distance, which proclaimed with the emphatic tone of a herald. Remember the Holy Sepulcher. The exhortation was echoed from post to post, for it was the duty of the Sentinels to raise his cry from time to time upon their periodical watch, that the host of the crusaders might always have, in their remembrance, the purpose of their being in arms. But though Conrad was familiar with the custom, and had heard the warning voice on all former occasions as a matter of habit, yet it came at the present moment so strongly in contact with his own train of thought, that it seemed a voice from heaven warning him against the iniquity which his heart meditated. He looked around anxiously, as if, like the patriarch of old, though from very different circumstances, he was expecting some ram caught in a thicket, some substitution for the sacrifice which his comrade proposed to offer, not to the supreme being, but to the mollock of their own ambition. As he looked, the broad folds of the ensign of England, heavily distending itself to the falling night breeze, caught his eye. It was displayed upon an artificial mound, nearly in the midst of the camp, which perhaps of some old Hebrew chief or champion, had chosen as a memorial of his place of rest. If so, the name was now forgotten, and the crusaders had christened at St George's Mount, because from that commanding height the banner of England was supermanently displayed, as if an emblem of the sovereignity over the many distinguished, noble, and even royal ensigns which floated in lower situations. A quick intellect like that of Conrad, catches ideas from the glance of a moment. A single look on the standard seemed to dispel the uncertainty of mind which had affected him. He walked to his pavilion, with the hasty and determined step of one who has adopted a plan which he has resolved to achieve. Dismissed the almost princely train who waited to attend him, and, as he committed himself to his couch, muttered his amended resolution, that the milder means are to be tried before the more desperate are resorted to. Tomorrow, he said, I sit at the board of the Archduke of Austria. We will see what can be done to advance our purpose, before prosecuting the dark suggestions of this Templar.