The tall man eyed Blake searchingly and he had not the appearance of great credulity.
"Thou sayest that thou comest from the Temple of Solomon in the Kingdom of Jerusalem?" he demanded.
"Sir Richard must have misunderstood me," replied Blake.
"Then thou art no Knight Templar?"
"Yes, but I am not from Jerusalem."
"Perchance he is one of those doughty sir knights that guard the pilgrims' way to the Holy Land," suggested a young woman standing near the prince.
Blake glanced quickly at the speaker and as their eyes met, hers fell, but not before he had seen that they were very beautiful eyes set in an equally beautiful, oval face.
"More like it haps he be a Saracen spy sent among us by the sultan," snapped a dark man who stood beside the girl.
The latter raised her eyes to the prince. "He looketh not like a Saracen, my father," she said.
"What knowest thou of the appearance of a Saracen, child?" demanded the prince. "Hast seen so many?" The party laughed and the girl pouted.