Shortly after this message, the Saracens determined in council to remain quiet for seven or eight days, and during that time neither to skirmish nor any way to annoy the Christians, but, when they should think themselves in perfect security, to fall on their camp like a deluge. This was adopted; and the ninth evening, a little before midnight, they secretly armed their men with their accustomed arms, and marched silently in a compact body toward the Christian camp. They had proposed making a severe attack on the opposite quarter to the main guard, and would have succeeded in their mischievous attempt if God had not watched over and preserved them by miracles, as I will now relate. As the Saracens approached, they saw before them a company of ladies dressed in white; one of whom, their leader, was incomparably more beautiful than the rest, and bore in front a white flag having a vermilion cross in the centre. The Saracens were so greatly terrified at this vision, that they lost all strength and inclination to proceed, and stood still, these ladies keeping steadily before them. The Genoese crossbows had brought with them a dog, as I heard, from beyond sea; but whence, no one could tell, nor did he belong to any particular person. This dog had been very useful to them; for the Saracens never came to skirmish, but by his noise he awakened the army; and as every one now knew that whenever the dog barked, the Saracens were come or on their road, they prepared themselves instantly. In consequence of this the Genoese called him the dog of Our Lady. This night the dog was not idle, but made a louder noise than usual, and ran first to the main guard, which was under the command of the Lord de Torcy, a Norman, and Sir Henry d’Antoing. As during the night all sounds are more easily heard, the whole army was in motion, and properly prepared to receive the Saracens, who they knew were approaching.