hed in perspiration. As the galley had been taken out only that
instruction might be given to the young knights, the work was frequently
broken.

Sometimes they went ahead at full speed for a few hundred yards, as if
to chase an adversary; then they would swerve aside, the slaves on one
side rowing, while those on the other backed, so as to make a rapid
turn. Then she lay for a minute or two immovable, and then backed water,
or turned to avoid the attack of an imaginary foe. Then for an hour she
lay quiet, while the knights, divesting themselves of their mantles and
armour, worked one of the guns on the poop, aiming at a floating
barrel moored for the purpose a mile out at sea. At eleven o'clock they
returned to the port. Bread and water were served out to the slaves, and
they were then permitted to lie down and sleep, the galley being moored
under the shadow of the wall.

At four o'clock another party of knights came down, and the work was
similar to that which had been performed in the morning. At seven
o'clock the slaves were taken back to their barracks.

"Well, what do you think of your work?" one of the slaves asked
Gervaise, as they ate their evening meal.

"It would not be so bad if it was all like that."

"No. But I can tell you that when you have to row from sunrise to
sunset, with perhaps but one or two pauses for a few minutes, it is
a different thing altogether, especially if the galley is carrying
despatches, and speed is necessary. Then you get so worn out and
exhausted, that you can scarce move an oar through the water, until you
are wakened up by a smart as if a red hot iron had been laid across your
shoulders. It is terrible work then. The whip cracks every minute across
some one's back; you are blinded by exhaustion and rage, and you feel
that you would give the world if you could but burst your chain, rush on
your taskmasters, and strike, if only one blow, before you are killed."

"It must be terrible," Gervaise said. "And do you never get loose, and
fall upon them?"

The man shook his head.

"The chains are too strong, and the watch too vigilant," he said. "Since
I came here I have heard tales of crews having freed themselves in the
night, and fallen upon the Christians, but for my part I do not believe
in them. I have thought, as I suppose every one of us has thought, how
such a thing could be done; but as far as I know no one has hit on a
plan yet. Now and then men have managed to become