successor to the throne.
After this agreement, Philip fell sick, and actually suspected Richard
of having poisoned him. Weary of battle, exhausted by sickness, and
mortified by the knowledge that Richard's fame as a warrior far
surpassed his own, Philip resolved to return to France. As bound by
treaty, he requested the consent of the English king to his departure.

"Eternal shame on him and all France if for any cause he leave the holy
work unfinished!" cried Richard, when the messenger of Philip had
spoken. But finally he was persuaded to give a reluctant consent in
these words,--

"Well, let him go if his health require it, or if he cannot live without
seeing Paris."

So the King of France, abandoning the Crusade, gladly set sail for his
own country; but he left a large force under the Duke of Burgundy to aid
Richard in the conquest of Jerusalem.

Now, Saladin had failed to carry out the terms of the surrender of Acre.
At the time agreed upon, he had not delivered to Richard the stipulated
sum of money, the Christian captives, or the true cross, which was in
his possession. So the English king and the Duke of Burgundy led all
their Saracen prisoners outside the walls of Acre and put them to death.

After this massacre and a fierce battle with the outraged warriors of
Saladin, who in vain attempted to prevent the execution of their kinsmen
and friends before their very eyes, Richard and his army set out by way
of the coast for the city of Ascalon, the fleet accompanying them.
Saladin, frenzied with rage at the massacre before Acre, though he
himself was partly to blame, followed Richard, with vengeance in his
heart. At every favorable opportunity, the sultan attacked the
Christians and slew all who fell into his hands.

Never was there a more dreadful or fatal march. Countless arrows rained
down on the soldiers from the Turks on the mountain heights. The
scorching sun of Syria blazed upon their weary bodies by day, and deadly
tarantulas poisoned them by night. Ever and anon the Turks, mounted on
horses swifter than swallows, swooped down on the struggling ranks of
Christians and wrought bloody havoc among them, escaping vengeance by
the speed of their steeds. Thus tormented and harassed, it is little
wonder that when encamped at night, the distressed Crusaders should all
join with tears and groans and heart-felt fervor in the thrice-repeated
evening cry of the heralds: "Help us, O Holy Sepulchre!" Sorely did the