One day a messenger from the city was admitted to the presence of Prince Moyses under a flag of truce. He was the bearer of a lengthy document couched in pompous language which, after reproaching the Christians for the lack of exercise that was making them fat and timid, expressed a fear that they would depart from the city without affording any pastime to the ladies of it. That this might not be, Tur Pasha, a Turkish general, challenged to single combat any champion whom the Christian army might put forward. The combat was to be fought after the fashion of knightly times, with which the Turks had become familiar during the Crusades, and the head of the vanquished, together with everything brought into the field by him, should become the property of the victor. The challenge was received with delight in the Christian army and as soon as it became known scores of captains pressed forward for the privilege of accepting it. In order to avoid jealousy and discontent by singling one out of so many brave men, the commander determined to decide the question by casting lots. Young John Smith was among the most eager candidates for the honor of representing the army and his name and those of the others were written upon scraps of paper and shaken up in a helmet. It was a breathless moment when Prince Moyses thrust his hand into the casque and drew forth the billet upon which his fingers closed. “John Smith, the Englander, is our champion,” he announced to the throng, with a shade of disappointment in his voice. He had hoped that the honor might fall to one of his own countrymen and, although Count Meldritch had spoken with warmth of John’s courage and prowess, the Prince felt doubtful of the ability of a mere stripling to defeat an experienced warrior. As John was about to go to his tent, his heart full of joy at the wonderful good fortune that had befallen him, Prince Moyses beckoned him to his side. It was in the mind of the general to ask Smith to waive his right in favor of some older and better tried captain, but the first glance at the young man’s eager face convinced his commander that it would be useless to pursue the purpose. Instead he inquired whether Smith’s horse and equipment were all that he could desire and what weapons he would choose, having as the challenged the right of selection. John replied that his horse had proved itself a trusty beast in many a sharp skirmish since the battle of Girkhe and for the weapon, he would name the lance in the handling of which he feared not to pit himself against any mortal man. As he made this truthful but, nevertheless, somewhat boastful statement, John fancied that he detected a faint smile flickering about the corners of the Prince’s mouth. He flushed at the thought that his general might be inwardly laughing at his pretensions, and said, with some show of heat: “May it please your Highness to give me leave to prove my quality with the lance?”