Our young hero rode with a stout heart. His steed showed itself a worthy representative of the splendid Arab breed. The waves of a gently flowing stream could not have borne him more easily. His horse’s hoofs hardly disturbed the soil. It glided with the swiftness of the wind or the swallow, rather than ran, and was so perfectly trained that it obeyed the slightest touch upon its shoulder or pull upon the bridle. It never needed the spur and yet the rider, as the noble animal sped along with flying mane and distended nostrils, making the sparks and gravel fly, knew that it could make still greater speed, should that be necessary. Raymond rode at this speed for nearly an hour. The night was very dark and so still that only the echoes of his horse’s hoof-beats were heard among the neighboring hills as he flew at a swift trot through the ravines and passes. At times he heard the cry of the hungry jackals in the dense forest, but no other sounds reached his ears. Thus in the silent solitude of the forest, far from friends but perhaps close to lurking enemies, our hero said good-bye to his youthful days almost before he had entered upon them, and boldly took up the work of manhood. He knew nothing of that silly fear which arises from the imagination. However or wherever he might encounter an enemy, he determined to show his knighthood if that enemy met him manfully. The possibility of defeat never occurred to him. He felt himself under divine protection. He believed, as his comrades did, that this war against the Turks was well-pleasing to God, and that all engaged in it were under His special protection, for had not God been with them thus far in all their troubles? Had He not already guided Conrad well-nigh to the accomplishment of his purpose? Since the honor of bringing that purpose to completion had been assigned to him, surely God would guide him also and bring him to success.