After the death of Zanghi, who had repeopled the city of Edessa, the ill-advised Jocelyn instigated the people to revolt against their new masters. All the Turks in the place were put to death, and Jocelyn, once more reinstated in the city of his father, sent messengers in all directions, asking for help. No help came, for it was impossible that any one should send help. Nûr-ed-dín came to the town with ten thousand men before Jocelyn had held it for a week. He vowed to exterminate the Christians, and these were too few in number to make any resistance. They threw open the gates, and all sallied forth together, with the resolution to fight their way through the beleaguering army. Jocelyn got through, and, with a few knights, reached Samosata in safety. The rest of the people were all massacred. Some years after this, Jocelyn himself was taken prisoner, and spent the rest of his life, nine years, in captivity, far enough removed from any chance of indulging in those vices which had ruined him, and perilled the realm. It was a fitting end to a career which might have been glorious, if glory is a thing to desire; which might have assured the safety of the Christian kingdom, if, which is a thing to be questioned, the Christian kingdom was worth saving. And now hostilities on both sides seem to have been for a time suspended, for the news reached the East how another Crusade had been preached in the West, and gigantic armies were already moving eastwards to protect the realm, and reconquer the places which had been lost. Signs, too, were not wanting which, though they might be interpreted to signify disaster, could yet be read the other way. A comet, for instance; this might portend evil for the Saracens—Heaven grant it was intended to strike terror into their hearts. But what could be said of the lightning which struck, of all places in the world, the very church of the Holy Sepulchre itself? Nothing but the anger of God could be inferred from a manifestation so clear, and the hearts of all were filled with terror and forebodings. The details of the second Crusade, as it is called, unhappily resemble those of the first. It is not necessary that we should do more than follow the leading incidents which preceded the arrival of the soldiers—all who were left—in Palestine.