And now Amaury was guilty of an act of perfidy which brought about, or rather accelerated, the final fall of the Christian kingdom. Tormented by his own ambitious designs, and the thought of that rich Empire of Egypt, which seemed to wait for the first hand strong enough to seize it—without waiting for the Greek Emperor, perhaps, however, acting in secret concert with him—he declared that Shawer had been sending secret messages to Nûr-ed-dín, and had thereby infringed the treaty of alliance. For this reason, as he alleged, he proclaimed war against Egypt, and led his army against Pelusium. One voice only was raised against the enterprise. Cruel, ambitious, avaricious, and haughty as the Templars were, they were never capable of deliberately breaking their word. The Grand Master of the Order, Bertrand de Blanquefort, spoke loudly against the expedition. He, for one, would not allow his knights to join an army which set out to carry war into a kingdom friendly to their own, bound by acts of solemn treaty, which had committed no offence, which had continued loyal and true to its engagements. The Templars remained behind at Jerusalem. The Hospitallers went with Amaury and his host, one of the finest armies that the kingdom had ever produced. They began by taking Pelusium, after a ten days’ march through the desert along a road which they knew well by this time. The resistance made by Pelusium was very short, lasting only three days, when the Christians took the place, and slaughtered, at first, every man, woman, and child who fell into their hands. The Vizier, Shawer, was thrown, at first, into the wildest terror. In the disorganised state of his army there was absolutely nothing to prevent the Christians from marching directly upon Cairo, and gaining possession by a single assault of the whole realm of Egypt. All seemed lost, and Shawer was already preparing for flight, when it occurred to him to tempt the king, whose cupidity was notorious, by the offer of money. Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia.