CHAPTER XXXVII.
A RECOGNITION.

YJHEN the Templar and the English knight left
the lodgings that had been assigned to them
in the palace of Bagdad to enter the presence of the
caliph, and were honoured with the audience de-
scribed, Walter Espec, excited by the novelty of his
situation, thinking of his lost brother, and bearing in
mind that he had a mission to accomplish, strolled,
heedless of rules or regulations, into the garden of
the palace, and took his way along one of the walks,
set in mosaic-coloured pebbles, towards the kiosk.
He had not proceeded far, however, when he per-
ceived, coming from the opposite direction, six youths,
apparently about his own age. All were so fettered
as to be impeded in their walking, and seemed to be
under the charge of an aged Saracen, who, in his
turban and flowing robes, looked a most venerable
personage.
‘Christian captives, as I live,’ muttered Walter,
compassionately.
Of the six youths, five paced moodily along, with
their eyes bent sadly on the ground; the sixth
neither seemed sad, nor had his eyes bent on the