CHAPTER XVI.
A FIGHT OF HEROES.
The horse was a good and spirited one, and when he had once descended to
the plains, Cuthbert rode gayly along, exulting in his freedom, and in
once again possessing arms to defend himself should it be needed. His
appearance was so exactly that of the horsemen who were continually
passing and repassing that no observation whatever was attracted by it.
Through villages, and even through camps, Cuthbert rode fearlessly, and
arrived, without having once been accosted, near the main camp of the
Saracens, which extended for miles parallel to the sea. But at a
distance of some three leagues beyond could be seen the white tents of
the Christian host, and Cuthbert felt that the time of trial was now at
hand.
He dismounted for an hour to allow his steed to rest itself, fed it with
dates from his wallet, and gave it a drink of water at the stream. Then,
when he felt that it had thoroughly recovered its strength and
freshness, he remounted, and rode briskly on as before.
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