easy victims to their agile foes, and in a short time nearly the whole
of that recently victorious army were slain or taken prisoners. Of the
entire force only a small number broke through the lines of their
environing foes.

The emperor escaped almost by miracle. His trusty steed bore him
unharmed through the crowding Arabs. He was sharply pursued, but the
swift animal distanced the pursuers, and before long he reached the
sea-shore, over whose firm sands he guided his horse, though with little
hope of escaping his active foes. Fortunately, he soon perceived a Greek
vessel at no great distance from the shore, a vision which held out to
him a forlorn hope of escape. The land was perilous; the sea might be
more propitious; he forced his faithful animal into the water, and swam
towards the vessel, in the double hope of being rescued and remaining
unknown.

He was successful in both particulars. The crew willingly took him on
board, ignorant of his high rank, but deeming him to be a knight of
distinction, from whom they could fairly hope for a handsome ransom. His
situation was still a dangerous one, should he become known, and he
could not long hope to remain incognito. In truth, there was a slave on
board who knew him, but who, for purposes of his own, kept the perilous
secret. He communicated by stealth with the emperor, told him of his
recognition, and arranged with him a plan of escape. In pursuance of
this he told the Greeks that their captive was a chamberlain of the
emperor, a statement which Otho confirmed, and added that he had
valuable treasures at Rossano, which, if they would sail thither, they
might take on board as his ransom.

The Greek mariners, deceived by the specious tale, turned their vessel's