“Yes!” he muttered to himself, “the agony will soon be over: it is but an hour at the most, and shall a Christian knight fear fire or torture? No: come when it may, death should ever be welcome to a de Guiscan; and how much more welcome when it brings the glories of martyrdom. But yet it is a fearful trial. I could fall in battle, for there a thousand eyes behold us, but to die alone, unheard of, with only foes around, and where none shall ever hear of my fate.—Oh! that indeed is bitter. Yet I fear not even it. Thank God!” he said, fervently kissing a cross he drew from his bosom, “there is a strength given to us in the hour of need, which bears us up against every danger.” The speaker suddenly started, ceased, and looked around. The bolt of his door was being withdrawn from the outside. Could it be that his jailor was about to visit him at this hour? Slowly the massy door swung on its hinges, and a burst of light, streaming into the cell, for a moment dazzled the eyes of the captive; but when he grew accustomed gradually to the glare, he started, with even greater surprise, to behold, not his jailor, but a maiden, richly attired in the Oriental dress. For an instant the young knight looked amazed, as if he beheld a being of another world. “Christian!” said the apparition, using the mongrel tongue, then adopted by both Saracens and Franks in their communications, but speaking in a low, sweet voice, which, melting from the maiden’s tongue, made every word seem musical, “do you die to-morrow?” “If God wills it,” said the young knight firmly, “but what mean you?—why are you here?” “I am here to save you,” said the maiden, fixing her eye upon his, “that is,” and she paused and blushed in embarrassment, “if you will comply with my conditions.” The young knight, who had eagerly started forward at the first part of her sentence, now recoiled, and with a firm voice, though one gentler than he would have used to aught less fair, exclaimed,— “And have you too been sent to tempt me? But go to those from whom you came, and tell them that Brian de Guiscan, will meet the stake rejoicing, sooner than purchase life by abjuring his God—” “You wrong—you wrong me,” hastily interposed the maiden, “I come not to ask you to desert your God, but to tell you that I also would be a Christian. Listen,—for my story must be short—my nurse was a Christian captive, and from her I learned to love your Saviour. I have long sought to learn more of your religion, and I am come now,” and again she blushed in embarrassment, “to free you, sir knight, if you will conduct me to your own land. I am the daughter of the Emir; I have stolen his signet, and thus obtained the keys to your cell—” “It is enough, fair princess, my more than deliverer,” said the knight eagerly, “gladly will I sell my life in your defence.”