“There’s a footman at the door; the good man that talks, I think; he would speak with Cornelius.”
With such words, at sunrise one morning a few weeks after the May-day service, the missioners of Bethany were aroused by an attendant. Quickly robing himself, the young chaplain went forth, and, sure enough, the Hospitaler stood before him.
“Selamet; but what haste brings our ever-welcome friend so early?”
“To relieve your minds! I’ve purchased immunity! The Mameluke sheik, at Jerusalem, has secured the Sultan’s revocation of the order of razing and banishment,” answered the knight. Cornelius gazed at the Hospitaler with anxiety, questioning within himself as to whether the knight had taken leave of his reason or not.
The abrupt soldier-priest perceiving the perplexity of his hearer broke forth: “Why the edict that the Temple on the hill be despoiled, and the ‘Angels of the Mount’ be summarily driven out of Syria, has been rescinded; the ‘Faithful,’ as those infidels style themselves, have been converted; seen a great light which came by mighty gold.”
“All Saints defend us! I did not hear of this. Tell me all!” exclaimed Cornelius.
“Not now; the peril is past. I knew it was impending sometime, and supposed ye did. I promised a reward, if time were given. I got money help from foreign knights. The vandals took it with a mighty thirst, and then with a great show of piety promised toleration.”
“I see, as usual with them, great gain with godliness is contentment; but what are we on the mount to do?”
“Go on; the Sultan isn’t God, nor his sheik the Devil.”
“The Hospitaler comforts. Now let us enter and breakfast together, that we may get wisdom by conferring.”