return to the assistance of the rearguard, were baffled by the sturdy
resistance of the Saracens, and the position of those in the rear was
fast becoming hopeless.

One by one the gallant little band of knights fell, and a sea of turbans
closed over the fluttering plumes. Cuthbert, after defending himself with
extreme bravery for a long time, was at last separated from the small
remainder of his comrades by a rush of the enemy's horse, and when
fighting desperately he received a heavy blow at the back of the head
from the mace of a huge Nubian soldier, and fell senseless to the ground.

When he recovered his consciousness, the first impression upon his mind
was the stillness which had succeeded to the din of battle; the shouts
and war-cries of the crusaders, the wild yells of the Moslems, were
hushed, and in their place was a quiet chatter in many unknown tongues,
and the sound of laughter and feasting. Raising his head and looking
round, Cuthbert saw that he and some ten of his comrades were lying
together in the midst of a Saracen camp, and that he was a prisoner to
the infidels. The sun streamed down with tremendous force upon them;
there was no shelter; and though all were wounded and parched with
thirst, the Saracens of whom they besought water, pointing to their
mouths and making signs of their extreme thirst, laughed in their faces,
and signified by a gesture that it was scarcely worth the trouble to
drink when they were likely so soon to be put to death.

It was late in the afternoon before any change was manifest. Then
Cuthbert observed a stir in the camp; the men ran to their horses, leapt
on their backs, and with wild cries of "Welcome!" started off at full
speed. Evidently some personage was about to arrive, and the fate of the
prisoners would be solved. A few words were from time to time exchanged