Then appeared a procession of women, most of them draped in mourning, and leading scared children by the hand; the wives, sisters, and widows of nobles, knights and burgesses of Jerusalem.

Last of all marched a hundred or more of captains and warriors, among them Wulf, headed by Sir Balian and ended by the patriarch Heraclius in his gorgeous robes, with his attendant priests and acolytes.
On swept the queen, up the length of the long church, and as she came the abbess and her nuns rose and bowed to her, while one offered her the chair of state that was set apart to be used by the bishop in his visitations.

But she would have none of it.
"Nay," said the queen, "mock me with no honourable seat who come here as a humble suppliant, and will make my prayer upon my knees." So down she went upon the marble floor, with all her ladies and the following women, while the solemn Saracens looked at her wondering and the knights and nobles massed themselves behind.
"What can we give you, O Queen," asked the abbess, "who have nothing left save our treasure, to which you are most welcome, our honour, and our lives ?" "Alas!" answered the royal lady.

"Alas, that I must say it! I come to ask the life of one of you." "Of whom, O Queen ?" Sybilla lifted her head, and with her outstretched arm pointed to Rosamund, who stood above them all by the high altar.
For a moment Rosamund turned pale, then spoke in a steady voice: "Say, what service can my poor life be to you, O Queen, and by whom is it sought ?" Thrice Sybilla strove to answer, and at last murmured: "I cannot.

Let the envoys give her the letter, if she is able to read their tongue." "I am able," answered Rosamund, and a Saracen emir drew forth a roll and laid it against his forehead, then gave it to the abbess, who brought it to Rosamund.