Roger, formerly from Argenton. To him he sent, and asked him if he knew
the king of England.

"No; I never saw him," said Roger.

"But you know his language--the Norman French, there may be some token
by which you can recognize him; go seek him in the inns where pilgrims
lodge, or elsewhere. He is a prize well worth taking. If you put him in
my hands I will give you the government of half my domain."

Roger set out upon his quest, and continued it for several days, first
visiting the inns, and then going from house to house of the town,
keenly inspecting every stranger. The king was really there, and at last
was discovered by the eager searcher. Though in disguise, Roger
suspected him. That mighty bulk, those muscular limbs, that imperious
face, could belong to none but him who had swept through the Saracen
hosts with a battle-axe which no other of the Crusaders could wield.
Roger questioned him so closely that the king, after seeking to conceal
his identity, was at length forced to reveal who he really was.

"I am not your foe, but your friend," cried Roger, bursting into tears.
"You are in imminent danger here, my liege, and must fly at once. My
best horse is at your service. Make your escape, without delay, out of
German territory."

Waiting until he saw the king safely horsed, Roger returned to his
master, and told him that the report was a false one. The only Crusader
he had found in the town was Baldwin de Bethune, a Norman knight, on his
way home from Palestine. The lord, furious at his disappointment, at
once had Baldwin arrested and imprisoned. But Richard had escaped.