broke
through the ring and rushed at the scarlet tent. It rocked to and
fro, then down it fell in a red heap, entangling the king in its
folds.

At the foot of the Cross, Rufinus, the bishop of Acre, still
fought on bravely. Suddenly an arrow struck him in the throat,
and throwing his arms wide, he fell to earth. Then the Saracens
hurled themselves upon the Rood, tore it from its place, and with
mockery and spittings bore it down the hill towards their camp,
as ants may be seen carrying a little stick into their nest,
while all who were left alive of the Christian army stared
upwards, as though they awaited some miracle from Heaven. But no
angels appeared in the brazen sky, and knowing that God had
deserted them, they groaned aloud in their shame and
wretchedness.

"Come," said Godwin to Wulf in a strange, quiet voice. "We have
seen enough. It is time to die. Look! yonder below us are the
Mameluks, our old regiment, and amongst them Saladin, for I see
his banner. Having had water, we and our horses are still fresh
and strong. Now, let us make an end of which they will tell in
Essex yonder. Charge for the flag of Saladin!"

Wulf nodded, and side by side they sped down the hill. Scimitars
flashed at them, arrows struck upon their mail and the shields
blazoned with the Death's-head D'Arcy crest. Through it all they
went unscathed, and while the army of the Saracens stared, at the
foot of the Horn of Hattin turned their horses' heads straight
for the royal standard of Saladin. On they struggled, felling or
riding down a foe at every stride. On, still on, although Flame
and Smoke bled from a score of wounds.

They were among the Mameluks, where their line was thin; by
Heaven! they were through them, and riding straight at the
well-known figure of the Sultan, mounted on his white horse with
his young son and his emir, the prince Hassan, at his side.

"Saladin for you, Hassan for me," shouted Wulf.

Then they met, and all the host of Islam cried out in dismay as
they saw the Commander of the Faithful and his horse borne to the
earth before the last despairing charge of these mad Christian
knights. Another instant, and the Sultan was on his feet again,
and a score of scimitars were striking at Godwin. His horse Flame
sank down dying, but he sprang from the saddle, swinging the long
sword. Now Saladin recognized the crest upon his buckler, and
cried out:

"Yield you, Sir Godwin! You have done well--yield you!"

But