"I fear, my lords," the king said to his knights as he sat in a little
room in an inn at Zara, "that my plight is a bad one. I am surrounded by
enemies, and, alas! I can no longer mount my steed and ride out as at
Jaffa to do battle with them. My brother, John Lackland, is scheming to
take my place upon the throne of England. Philip of France, whose mind is
far better at such matters than at setting armies in the field, is in
league with him. The Emperor Henry has laid claim to the throne of
Sicily. Leopold of Austria has not forgiven me the blow I struck him in
the face at Ascalon, and the friends of Conrad of Montferat are spreading
far and wide the lie that I was the instigator of his murder. Sure never
had a poor king so many enemies, and few have ever had so small a
following as I have now. What think you, my lords? What course would you
advise that I should adopt? If I can reach Saxony, doubtless Otho will
aid me. But hence to Dresden is a long journey indeed. I have neither
credit nor funds to hire a ship to take us by sea. Nor would such a
voyage be a safe one, when so many of my enemies' ships are on the main.
I must needs, I think, go in disguise, for my way lies wholly through the
country of my enemies."

"Surely," Cuthbert said, "no potentate could for very shame venture to
detain your Majesty on your way from the Holy Land, where you have
wrought such great deeds. Were I in your place, I would at once proclaim
myself, mount my horse, have my banner carried before me, and ride openly
on. You have, too, another claim, namely, that of being shipwrecked, and
even in war-time nations respect those whom the force of God has thrown
upon their shores."

"I fear me, Sir Cuthbert," Sir Baldwin said, "that you overrate the
chivalry of our master's enemies. Had we been thrown on the shores of
France, Philip perhaps would hesitate to lay hands upon the king; but