We left the Emperor fighting furiously in the streets of Iconium. Where the danger was greatest he fought with the bravery always characteristic of him. None could withstand him. They either fell before his vigorous attacks, or fled as fast and far as their feet could take them. The Christians were equally bold even when the Turks assailed them with the fierceness of lions. Their bitter resentment over broken faith, their remembrance of the sufferings they had undergone, the thought of so many fallen comrades, and their unwavering belief that the destruction of the enemies of Christianity was pleasing to God, inflamed them to a pitch of fury that extinguished every spark of humanity. They did not desist until every turban-wearer was killed or, like the Sultan, fortunate enough to make his escape. The Emperor was one of the last to sheathe his reddened sword. Many fell utterly exhausted, for in the excitement of the battle they had not noticed their waning strength. The foot-soldiers, who had driven stakes into the ground to protect themselves from the enemy’s cavalry charges, were hardly able to move. In addition to an immense amount of spoils and the wealth of the city, they secured an abundance of subsistence. All who were able procured enough for themselves and for the needs of their exhausted comrades. After the Emperor’s work was complete, and in the midst of his exultation over his victory and the fruits of his conquest of the city, he first learned what he had lost in the meantime. He could hardly trust his ears when he was informed of the capture of his wards. After repeated assurances that the news was true, and that their faithful caretaker had been found dead, the Emperor’s cheeks paled and his flashing eyes dimmed, for he realized at once the impending fate of the unfortunate lads. “You could not have struck me a harder blow than this, cruel Sultan,” he said, grimly. “You were cunning enough to know how dear those boys are to me. A fine proof of your courage this is, you coward, who shun open battle face to face, who can only succeed with overwhelming numbers, who lie in wait and strike your foeman in the back!” The glory of his victory was dimmed for him. The spoils he had won lost all their value in his eyes. This was no more than he had often done. But how should he redeem his knightly word, which never yet had been broken? He had allowed himself to be deceived by a subtle enemy, to whom he had exposed the boys, fancying them secure even when not under his watchful eye, and the result might be fatal to those who had trusted to his protection. His associates vainly tried to convince him he had not been guilty of any neglect of duty. Empty words could not comfort him. “It has all happened because of my negligence,” he replied. His first move was to order immediate pursuit of the enemy, in the hope of rescuing the boys.