“I can understand your feelings, and I too felt somewhat the same when I first came here.  Nevertheless, there is work that must be done if the Order is not to be crushed by the infidels.  Here are captives, for the most part malefactors, who have to be fed; and there is no injustice in their having, like all men, to give work for food.  I have learnt to see this and recognise the necessity, though I would that the work could be obtained without the use of harshness and severity.  We ourselves are prepared at any moment to sacrifice our lives for the good of the Order and for the great cause, and it would be wrong, nay, sinful, not to use the means that have been placed ready to our hand.  Now, Sir Gervaise, I wish you a pleasant voyage.  You will find the life somewhat hard, after your three years’ residence at the palace, but this I know you will not mind.  I have specially commended you to Ricord as one in whom I am personally interested, and from whom I hope great things in the future.  Be brave; be resolute.  From what you have said I need not say —­ be merciful.  Fulfill all orders promptly and without question; bear yourself courteously to all; above all things, remember that you are a soldier, not only of the Order, but of the Cross.”

The next day Gervaise embarked with his companions on board the galley.  It was a long, low boat, similar to those in use by the Venetians and Genoese.  It was rowed by fifty slaves, who slept at night on or beneath the benches they sat on by day.  The knights occupied the great cabins in the poop.  There were two tiers of these; the upper one contained the little cabin of the commander, while the rest of the space on this deck, and that below it, was used by the knights in common.  In the upper cabin they took their meals, and a third of their number slept there, the remainder in the cabin below.  A fourth of their number were, however, always on guard, lest any attempt at a rising or escape should be made by the galley slaves.

On leaving the harbour the galley, with its two consorts, rowed north, and Gervaise learnt that they were to cruise between the mainland and the islands.  Some of these were in the hands of the Turks, while others were still occupied by Greeks.

Except when there was a formal and actual state of war, the Moslem and Christian islands remained in a state of neutrality, trading with each other and avoiding all unfriendly proceedings that would lead to struggles which would be fatal to the prosperity of both.  The Archipelago, and indeed the whole of the eastern portion of the Mediterranean, was infested by pirates, fitted out, for the most part, on the mainland.  These, when in force, openly kept the sea, attacking the Christian merchant ships, but when cruising alone they hid in unfrequented bays, or behind uninhabited islets, until they could pounce upon a passing ship whose size promised an easy capture.  The Order of St. John furnished a maritime police, earning thereby the deep gratitude of Spain, France, and Italy.  They were aided occasionally by the Venetians, but these, being frequently engaged in quarrels with their neighbours, did but a small share of this work, only sending their fleets to sea when danger threatened some of their possessions in the Levant.