An attempt had then been made to ascertain whether they had been carried to Tripoli; but the bey had little authority over the various tribesmen along the coast, and only replied that no such captives had been sold in the city.  Thus all hope of ransoming them had died away, and their names were inscribed in the list of those who had fallen into the hands of the infidels, but of whose subsequent fate no clue could be obtained.

All were greatly emaciated, and their faces showed signs of the sufferings they had undergone.  The young knights were all familiar with their names, but personally none had known them, for they had been carried off two or three months before Gervaise and Ralph Harcourt had arrived at Rhodes.

All three had struggled desperately to break their chains while the fight was going on, and had, as soon as the contest was decided, risen to their feet and shouted the battle cry of the Order; then, overcome by their emotions, they sank down upon their benches, and remained as if in a stupor until the knights, who had hurried first to them, struck off their fetters.  Then the three men grasped each other’s hands, while tears streamed down their cheeks.

“It is no dream, comrades,” one of them said, in a hoarse voice.  “We are free again.  Let us first return thanks to God for our release, and then we can thank these our brothers.”

The three knights knelt at the benches where they had toiled and suffered, and hid their faces in their hands.  No sounds came from their lips, but their stifled sobs and the heaving of their naked shoulders, seamed and scarred by the strokes of their taskmasters’ whips, told the young knights, who stood unhelmeted and silent around, how deep was their emotion.  Then they rose.

“I am Fabricius Caretto,” one said; “this is Giacomo Da Vinci; this Pietro Forzi:  all knight commanders of the Order, and now for six years prisoners in the hands of these corsairs.  Assuredly no one would know us, so changed are we.”  He looked round inquiringly for a familiar face.  “Your commander must surely be a comrade of ours?”

“We know all your names,” Gervaise said, coming forward, “though none of us reached the convent until after your capture.  I have the honour to command this galley.  My name is Gervaise Tresham, and I have for my lieutenant Sir Ralph Harcourt.  All of us, glad as we are at the capture we have effected of these three corsairs, are still more pleased that we should have been the means of rescuing three noble knights of our Order from captivity.  Now, I pray you first of all to accompany me on board the galley, where we will do all we can to make you forget the sufferings you have gone through.  After you have bathed, and reclad yourselves, I will present to you the knights my comrades, amongst whom are seven of your own langue.  Three of these I will tell off to see to your comfort, for, as you will understand, I have my hands full indeed at present.”