Arthur gave him one of the packhorses, whose load was distributed among the other animals, and ordered the servants to let him ride with them. More quickly than might have been expected of one so weak, the Jew swung himself into the saddle and joined the little band, which once more resumed its march. Constance took no part in the occurrence, and when Arthur rode up and entreated her approval of his act she said to him with some anxiety, “When the bailiffs complain to Philip he may be angry with you, my son.” Arthur became thoughtful as Höel added, “The life of this Jew is of little consequence to Philip, for whatever he has of value the King will be sure to get.” “How is that?” asked Arthur. “The dispersal of the Jews was ordered to please the Pope,” said Höel, “and out of their wealth King Philip will raise the means for arming the Crusaders.” “That is not kingly,” said Arthur indignantly. “All the same they are Jews, and their treasures will be taken for the King’s service. How can it harm them anyway? They exude gold as these pines do pitch.” Arthur reflected upon Höel’s words with considerable surprise and almost regretted his display of sympathy. But when he looked back and saw the bent figure of the Jew following the others, who shunned him, he thought to himself, “Still, I could not let him perish.” That evening the Duchess and her most distinguished companions stopped at one of the stately abbeys of that region, and Arthur arranged that the Jew should spend the night with the servants who looked after the horses outside. They had soon become accustomed to their silent fellow-traveller, who served them for a laughing-stock. After the fourth day the travellers at last approached their destination. They met crowds along the country road—haughty knights, warriors, and pilgrims intending to take part in the expedition to Palestine, besides ecclesiastics and monks, traders and shopkeepers. It was a good-natured crowd, but it often obstructed our travellers, and at times they were separated from each other. Arthur and Alan were frequently delayed by a group going in the opposite direction; then, laughing and shouting, they rejoined their party. But toward evening Höel decided to ride faster, so that they might reach the city before the gates closed. The party got more closely together, and Höel rode along the line, urging on both people and horses. While thus engaged he discovered that the Jew was no longer with them, and that the horse he had been riding was quietly following the others. Höel caught it by the bridle and looked about him to see if he were not mistaken. As he was doing so he noticed a piece of paper tied to the saddle, with a ring attached to it. He untied it and hastened to the Duke. “Your ward has flown,” began Höel. “So? Then he is both false and ungrateful,” said the Duke, in some confusion.