“God will preserve thee, Hubert. I know He will, but there will be trials and difficulties.” “I am prepared for them.” “But God will bring thee back to thy old father, the vow fulfilled; and my freed spirit shall rejoice in thee again. Thou knowest thy duty. Thou must first visit the Castle of Fievrault, and there seek of the old seneschal the sword of the man I slew. He will give it thee freely when thou tellest thy story and disclosest thy name. But be sure thou dost not tarry there, no, not one night, for the place is haunted. Then thou must take the nearest route to Jerusalem.” “But it is now in the hands of the Mussulmen.” “Upon certain conditions, and the payment of a heavy fine, they allow pilgrims to approach. Would that thou couldst enter it amidst a victorious host, but that day, in penalty for our sins, is not allowed as yet to dawn. Thou hast but to pray before the Holy Sepulchre, to deposit the sword to be blessed thereon, and thou mayst return.” “But will there be no fighting?” “This I cannot tell at present; a temporary truce exists. It may be broken at any moment, and if it be, thou mayst tarry for one campaign, not longer. My eyes will ache to see thee again, and remember that but to have visited the Holy Places will entitle thee to all the indulgences and privileges of a crusader—Bethlehem, Nazareth, Calvary, Gethsemane, Olivet. The task is easier now, by reason of the truce, although the infidels be very treacherous, and thou wilt need constant vigilance.” So they talked until the midnight hour. No ghostly visitant appeared to mar its joy, and the sire and son slept. The old man made the youth lie on his couch, while he lay on the floor. Hubert resisted the arrangement in vain; the father was absolute, and so they slept. On the morrow the travellers (of both parties) left the priory together, after the chapter mass at nine. Hubert had bidden the last farewell to his old father, who with difficulty relinquished his grasp of his adored boy, now that the hour for fulfilling the purpose of many years had come at last. Martin and his brother and companion Ginepro were there, and the six men-at-arms who were to act as a guard of honour to the young knight in his passage through the forest to the castle of his ancestors. They purposed to travel together as long as their different objects permitted. “My men will be a protection,” said Hubert. The young friars laughed. “We need no protection,” said Ginepro. “If we want arms, these bulrushes will serve for spears.” “Nay, do not jest,” said Martin. “We have other arms, my Hubert.” “What are they?” “Only faith and prayer, but they never fail.”