till transported with rage, told him what he
had done! how great was his affliction! and what reproaches did he not
vent against so barbarous a father! He ran to the fatal place which he
heard had been the grave of his unhappy Princess; but finding nothing
that could flatter him with any hope of there being a possibility to
save her, he returned to court in a condition truly pitiable;---the many
charms of his lost Princess dwelt for ever on his mind, and he thought
himself the most miserable creature living, because he had it not in his
power to revenge her. It was not long before the Count himself repented
of the action, and his remorse became so great, that even the miserable
Thibault endeavoured to mitigate it. At last it wore off, and he began
to think a second marriage, and the hope of an heir, would dissipate his
afflictions; and well knowing that his son-in-law would never engage
himself again, he married, and was happy enough at the expiration of a
year to have a son: yet his grief was not wholly vanished, his daughter
came ever fresh into his memory, and the light of Thibault, who
continued overwhelmed with the deepest melancholy, added to his despair.

In this manner they passed almost nine years, when the Count becoming
once more a widower, resolved, together with Thibault, and his little
son, to travel to the Holy Land, hoping by devotion to expiate his
crime. Thibault, who now thought he had an opportunity of dying
gloriously in fighting for the faith, readily embraced the proposal.
Every thing was soon ready for the voyage, and the Count de Ponthieu
having entrusted the government of his dominions to persons of
confidence, they set out, and arrived safely at Jerusalem. The Count and
Thibault engaged themselves for the space of a year in serving the
temple, in which they had frequent opportunities of testifying their
zeal and courage. The year finished, and their vows accomplished, they
embarked in order to return. The winds were for some days favourable,
but a most violent tempest succeeding the calm, they were so shook by
the fury of it, that they expected nothing but death; when on a sudden,
a contrary gust arising, drove them on the coast of Almeria, a land
belonging to the infidels; they were soon surrounded by the barks and
brigantines of the Saracens, and as the ship was incapable of putting to
sea again, they were much less so in a condition of defence.

The Count de Ponthieu, the young Prince his s