rapidly through the ranks of the cavalry to charge and force their way to the foot of the breach, which was manned by the Christians, and defended by several large instruments of war. So the horsemen came on at a gallop; and even the besieged gazed on the gallant sight with admiration as they beheld that line of warriors sweeping forwards on their Arab chargers, their arms and cuirasses, and even the harness of their horses, glittering in gold; for they were the flower of the sultan’s troops. But their gallantry was powerless to carry them over that yawning terrible abyss—not a blow could they level at their adversaries; whilst a shower of stones and arrows from the engines on the walls rolled horses and riders in the dust by scores. For five days were these scenes renewed, and always with the same result; cavalry and infantry never flinching from the orders of the sultan, which sent them to certain destruction, but continuing to rush on with a desperate courage, only to be driven back upon their ranks, leaving half their numbers dead upon the field. The sultan was greatly enraged at his repeated failures; but satisfied at length that the city was not yet to be carried by assault, he yielded to the persuasions of his emirs, and commanded the ditch to be filled up. This was a work of time; for, first it had to be drained of the water, and then huge camel-loads of earth and stone were thrown into it by thousands; and still, as day after day went on, it scarcely seemed to fill, and the month of April passed without his finding himself a step nearer to the end of his toil. He became impatient, and without waiting for the work to be finished, gave fresh orders for the assault. The ditch was but half filled; and when the first line of the Saracens rushed to the edge, they were once more obliged to fall back in confusion, baffled and unable to cross, for it was still a full yard deep, and the horses refused to enter. Then followed a scene, which perhaps has never had its equal in the chronicles of war or of fanaticism; yet, strange and incredible as the facts may seem, they are related by all historians—some being the eye-witnesses of what they describe. There was among the sultan’s troops a body of men known by the name of Chages, a kind of new sect among the Moslems, who surpassed all their comrades in their terrible and bloody devotion to the cause of Islam. To them Melec Seraf now turned: “You who call yourselves the chosen of the Prophet,” he cried, “show now your faith by deeds, and throw yourselves into yonder ditch as a bridge for the mamelukes.” Without a moment’s hesitation the Chages obeyed the call, and with a mad enthusiasm flung themselves into the chasm by hundreds, while the others urged their horses over the quivering bridge of human bodies. To us it seems a strange idea to storm a breach with cavalry; but the Saracen and his horse were rarely parted, and many succeeded in