news of the loss of the holy sepulchre had really exercised a great
effect upon the minds of the people in England as elsewhere.

Those were the days of pilgrimage to holy places, when the belief in the
sanctity of places and things was overwhelming, and when men believed
that a journey to the holy shrines was sufficient to procure for them a
pardon for all their misdeeds. The very word "infidel" in those days was
full of horror, and the thought that the holy places of the Christians
were in the hands of Moslems, affected all Christians throughout Europe
with a feeling of shame as well as of grief.

Among the crowd were many of the Norman retainers from the castle and
from many of the holds around, and several knights with the ladies of
their family stood a little apart from the edge of the gathering; for it
was known that Father Francis would not be alone, but that he would be
accompanied by a holy friar who had returned from the East, and who could
tell of the cruelties which the Christians had suffered at the hands of
the Saracens.

Father Francis, at ordinary times a tranquil preacher, was moved beyond
himself by the theme on which he was holding forth. He did not attempt
to hide from those who stood around that the task to be undertaken was
one of grievous peril and trial; that disease and heat, hunger and
thirst, must be dared, as well as the sword of the infidel. But he
spoke of the grand nature of the work, of the humiliation to Christians
of the desecration of the shrines, and of the glory which awaited those
who joined the crusade, whether they lived or whether they died in the
Holy Land.

His words had a strong effect upon the simple people who listened to him,