The thirst of vengeance animated both parties; Foulque of Anjou had sworn to punish the treason of his vassal; and Hugh was equally determined to succeed, or bury himself under the ruins of Jaffa. Before the king’s forces commenced the attack, the patriarch of Jerusalem interposed his mediation, and recalled to the minds of the Christian warriors the precepts of Gospel charity. Hugh at first rejected all mention of peace with indignation; but having been abandoned by his followers, he at last lent an unwilling ear to the pacific appeals of the patriarch, and consented to lay down his arms. The king of Jerusalem sent home his army, and the count of Jaffa agreed to quit the kingdom, into which he was not to return till after three years of exile. He was awaiting at Jerusalem the favourable moment for his departure, when an unexpected circumstance was on the point of renewing stifled quarrels. “It happened,” says William of Tyre,[256] “as the count was playing at dice in the street of the Furriers, before the shop of a merchant named Alpham, that a soldier, a Breton by nation, having drawn his sword, fell suddenly upon the said count, who, being attentive to his game, expected nothing less than such an attack, and with the first cut, without the least warning, dealt him such a blow with the said sword on the face as stretched him upon the ground.” At the sight of such a tragical scene the people gathered round in crowds, anxiously inquiring the cause of it. The whole city was filled with rumours of various kinds; all mourned the fate of the count of Jaffa, and thought no more of his rebellion. They did not even hesitate to whisper complaints against the king, whom they accused of having himself directed the poniard of the assassin. The king, however, caused the murderer to be immediately arrested, and he was tried with the utmost rigour of the laws. He was ordered to have his limbs broken; and the king, whilst confirming the sentence, only added that the assassin of the count of Jaffa should not, as was usual, have his tongue cut out, in order that he might name his accomplices. The unhappy wretch expired, declaring that no one had induced him to commit the deed, but that he thought he should serve religion and his king by it. Every one was thus left free to form conjectures according to the feeling that animated him, or the party he had adopted. The count of Jaffa was not long in recovering from his wound; at the end of a few months he quitted Palestine, and went to Sicily, where he died before the time fixed for the end of his exile.