“By St. George!” said the monarch, “you are fated to be a very pink of knights.  You seem as thoughtful as you are brave; and whatever your age may be, I declare that the next time your name is brought before me I will call a chapter of knights, and they shall agree that exception shall be made in your favour, and that you shall at once be admitted to the honourable post.  You will miss your page, Sir Walter; but I am sure you will not grudge him that.”

“No, no, sire,” said the earl.  “The lad, as I have told your Majesty, is a connexion of mine—­distant, it is true, but one of the nearest I have—­and it will give me the greatest pleasure to see him rising so rapidly, and on a fair way to distinguish himself highly.  I feel already as proud of him as if he were my own son.”

The fleet remained some two or three weeks at Rhodes, for many of the vessels were sorely buffeted and injured, masts were carried away as well as bulwarks battered in, and the efforts of the crews and of those of the whole of the artificers of Rhodes were called into requisition.  Light sailing craft were sent off in all directions, for the king was in a fever of anxiety.  Among the vessels still missing was that which bore the Queen of Navarre and the fair Berengaria.

One day a solitary vessel was seen approaching.

“Another of our lost sheep,” the earl said, looking out over the poop.

She proved, however, to be a merchant ship of Greece, and newly come from Cyprus.

Her captain went on board the royal ship, and delivered message to the king, to the effect that two of the vessels had been cast upon the coast of Cyprus, that they had been plundered by the people, the crews ill-treated and made prisoners by the king, and that the Queen of Navarre and the princess were in their hands.

This roused King Richard into one of his furies.

“Before I move a step towards the Holy Land,” he said, “I will avenge these injuries upon this faithless and insolent king.  I swear that I will make him pay dearly for having laid a hand upon these ladies.”

At once the signal was hoisted for all the vessels in a condition to sail to take on board water and provisions, and to prepare to sail for Cyprus; and the next morning at daybreak the fleet sailed out, and made their way towards that island, casting anchor off the harbour of Famagosta.

King Richard sent a messenger on shore to the king, ordering him at once to release the prisoners; to make the most ample compensation to them; to place ships at their service equal to those which had been destroyed; and to pay a handsome sum of money as indemnity.

The King of Cyprus, however, an insolent and haughty despot, sent back a message of defiance.  King Richard at once ordered the anchors to be raised, and all to follow the royal ship.

The fleet entered the harbour of Famagosta; the English archers began the fight by sending a flight of arrows into the town.  This was answered from the walls by a shower of stones and darts from the machines.