before the close of the first day's march excited voices were heard
asking if the holy sepulchre was in sight. Slowly onward the multitude
moved up the Rhine, and over the Mont Cenis pass of the Alps, into
Italy.

54. But day by day hearts became sick with continued disappointment,
and little feet weary with the never-ending miles which stretched
before. The weak and the sickly were the first to give out, and,
though they struggled to keep their places in the ranks, one by one
they fell by the wayside to die alone, with no loving hands to soothe
their last moments or to moisten their parched lips with a drop of
cold water. The path of the youthful crusaders might be traced by the
marks left by thousands of bleeding feet and by the victims stretched
in death along the course.

55. Death, disease, and desertion soon thinned their ranks to such an
extent that only one half of their original number lived to reach the
summit of the Alps and look down into Italy. The journey across the
mountains was a fearful one. They had left home in summer, when their
raiment was thin; it had become scanty and ragged in the long and
dusty march, so that they were exposed to the full severity of the
cold. The rocks cut their shoeless feet, but nothing remained but to
press onward or to lie down and die.

56. Only seven thousand lived to reach Genoa, where they were received
coldly, but where they were at last permitted to stay a week to rest.
Then again onward through the plains of Italy, until all that survived
made their way to Rome. Pope Innocent partook of the fanaticism which
affected all Europe, but the sight of these little victims of the
universal delusion, reduced to mere spectres by hardships, disease,