"Where am I? Have I slept long?"
"With friends--all is well.
"Cover his face; now bear him out to the air."
. . . . .
A barque was leaving the ancient port of Pevensey, bound for the
east. Two friends--one in the attire of a bishop, and a youth who
looked like a recent convalescent--stood on the deck.
"Farewell to England--dear England," said the younger.
"Thou mayest revisit it after thou hast fulfilled thy desire to
pray at thy Saviour's tomb, and to tread the holy soil His sacred
Feet have trodden; but it must be years hence."
"My best prayers must be for thee."
"Tut, tut, my child; thy adventures form an episode I love to think
of. See, Beachy Head recedes; anon thou shalt see the towers of
Coutances Cathedral across the deep."
CHAPTER XXV. IN THE FOREST OF LEBANON.
Thirty years had passed away since the events recorded in our last
chapter, and the mighty Conqueror himself had gone to render an
account of his stewardship to the Judge of all men.
The thoughts and aspirations of all Christian people were now
attracted to far different subjects from the woes or wrongs of the
English nation. The Crusades had begun. Peter the Hermit had moved
all Christendom by his fiery eloquence, and sent them to avenge the
wrongs the pilgrims of the cross had sustained from Turkish hands,
and to free the holy soil from the spawn of the false prophet.
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