“It was a noble offer, my lord.”

“To be regent of an unquiet realm while my revered suzerain and friend, Louis, went upon his crusade—­mark me, Stephen, England has higher destinies than France; this land is fated to be the mother of a race of freemen such as once ruled the world from Rome of old.  The union of the long hostile races, Norman and English, is producing a people which shall in time rule the world; and if I can do aught to help to lay the foundation of such a polity as befits the union, please God, I shall feel well repaid:  in short, Leicester is a dearer name to me than Montfort; England than France.”

“Thy noble father, my lord, adorned the latter country.”

“God grant he has not left an inheritance of judgment to his children; the cries of the slaughtered Albigenses ever rang in my poor mother’s ears, and ring too often in mine.”

“I have never heard the story fairly told.”

“Thou shalt now.  The land where they spoke the language of Oc, thence called Langue-d’oc, was hardly a part of France; it had its own government, its own usages, as well as its own sweet tongue.  It was lovely as the garden of the Lord ere the serpent entered therein; the soil was fruitful, the corn and wine and oil abundant.  The people were unlike other people; they cared little for war, they wrote books and made love on the banks of the Rhone and Garonne.

“Well had they stopped here, and not taken liberties” (here the knight crossed himself) “with the Church.  Intercourse with Mussulmen and Greeks—­who alike came to the marts—­corrupted them, and they became unbelievers, so that even the children in their play mocked at the Church and Sacraments.  In short, it was said they were Manicheans.”

“What is that?”

“People who believe that the powers of good and evil are co-equal and co-eternal, that both God and the devil are to be worshipped.  At least this was laid to their charge; I know not if it be all true.

“Well, the Church appealed for help to the chivalry of France; she declared the goods and possessions of this unfortunate people confiscate to them who should seize them, and offered heaven to those who died in battle against them.  Now these poor wretches could write love songs and were clever at all kinds of art, but they could not fight.  My father was chosen to head the new crusade; and even he was shocked at the murderous scenes, the massacres, the burnings, which followed—­God forbid I should ever witness the like—­they were blotted out from the earth.”

The storm which had been gathering all this time now burst in its full violence upon our travellers.  Blinding flakes of snow, borne with all the force of the wind, seemed to overwhelm them; soon the tracks which alone marked the way became obliterated, and the riders wandered aimlessly for more than an hour.

“What shall we do, Stephen?  I have lost every trace of the way; my poor beast threatens to give up.”