Emily looked at her father with big, frightened eyes.

He had a red cross on his shoulder, and he was sharpening his sword. Her mother was busy packing some bread and meat. Did Emily see tears in her eyes?

"Dad?" Emily asked in a small voice. Her father looked up, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Oh, Dad, do you really have to go? Those Turks — I am afraid — "

"Come here, Emily, and listen."

Emily stood close to her father, and he related to her what had happened during the last few weeks. Emily knew it very well, but it was nice to hear it again, to be reassured that her dad really had to go. She remembered everything. First, Alfonzo, the pilgrim, had come home. The people had been so excited about it. After that, another pilgrim had come to the village. He had come from France. Peter of Amiens was his name, and he had brought a very important message.

He had told the same stories as Alfonzo had, about the terrible things the Turks did to the pilgrims in Jerusalem. He also had another very exciting story to tell. When he had prayed on the sepulchre of Christ, the Lord Jesus Himself had appeared to him and had given him a message.

This message was that the Christians had to conquer the holy land. They had to drive away the unholy Mohammedans. Everywhere he brought the same message, going from village to village, traveling through Italy, France, and Germany.

This was the reason he also had come to their village, and Emily had heard him. She also had seen the sparkling eyes of the men when they had answered the call of the holy man: "It's God's will! It's God's will!"

"Do not fear," the holy man had said. "The Pope will forgive all your sins if you go. If you are a slave, you may be free when you return. Are you worried what will happen to your family? The church will take care of your wives and children."

Oh, it was really scary when Emily heard his voice telling about all the terrible things in Jerusalem. It was so nice, however, to see all the courageous men in the village standing there with the weapons in their fists, promising to go and to fight the Mohammedans.

Now, however, her own father would go, too, and, no, Emily could not be glad anymore, especially when she saw the sad eyes of her mother.

However — "It's God's will!" That was the cry when the men went to listen to the Pope. He also had encouraged them.

Yes, her father had seen the Pope! When he had come home, he had told them everything about that big meeting. In her thoughts Emily could see it happen:

Listen! What a noise!

Look! What a crowd of people! Thousands! What was going on? They all looked at the stairs of a big church. On the top of those stairs stood a man. He wore a beautiful robe and a high hat. He talked to the people, very loudly, so everyone could hear him.

"It is a shame that the Turks are living in the holy city! The pilgrims are killed or maltreated. Jerusalem should belong to the Christians! It is the place where at one time our Lord walked, and suffered, and died! We should drive away those Mohammedans. It's God's will!"

Oh, listen to the shouting of the people, like a mighty roaring sea of noise: "It's God's will! It's God's will!"

The man at the top of the stairs smiled. Oh, yes, he knew that the people would listen. They would obey his voice, because he was the Pope, Urban II, and they all believed that he had received a message from God.

Wasn't that a nice story?

And now, Father had left, with all the other men. The days went by quickly. Every morning Emily helped her mother with doing all the chores. In the afternoon she played with her friends in the woods. Every night, before going to bed, they talked together about Father. Where would he be? When would he be back? No one had heard about the men.

Emily waited and waited. It took so long. They didn't hear anything about the army. Her mother also waited anxiously. Emily saw it in her eyes. They hoped and waited.

Winter came, then springtime, and summer again. But then summer ended, winter came again, and still there was no word from the men.

Another year passed.

Then, one day, a stranger stood at the door of the little house. He looked worn out, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes shone feverishly. He was on his way to the next village, where his family lived. First, however, he had to bring a message. He had to tell about the march of the crusaders to the holy land:

They marched through strange countries, plundering and robbing, for otherwise there was no food. Thou­sands died on the way from hunger and exhaustion. Thousands were killed by angry farmers who were robbed of everything. But they still went on.

"It's God's will!"

Finally they came to Constantinople, a big city, where they had to cross the water. They marched on.

"It's God's will!"

The Mohammedans, however, had heard of the Christians coming to their country. They marched with a big army to meet the Christians, and the army of the crusaders was almost totally destroyed. The dead bodies of more than 40,000 men covered the battlefield.

Emily did not dare to ask anything. She looked at her mother. Her mother's eyes were so dark, but she did not ask anything either.

"So," the visitor said hesitantly. He rose to go to the next house, and then to the next.

Her mother nodded. She understood. Emily wanted to scream. No! Oh, no! It couldn't be true!

Father had said that the Lord would take care of everything! The Pope had said it, too! How could this have happened?