‘Old Bostenay and the Lady Miriam are borne prisoners to Bagdad.’
‘Prisoners?’
‘But so; all will be well with them, I trow. The Lord Honain is in high favour with the conqueror, and will doubtless protect them.’
‘Honain in favour?’
‘Even so. He made terms for the city, and right good ones.’
‘Hah! he was ever dexterous. Well! if he save my sister, I care not for his favour.’
‘There is no doubt. All may yet be well, Sir.’
‘Let us act, not hope. Where’s Abner?’
‘Dead.’
‘How?’