“Ay, yet horses trained to rocks can follow it. At its foot is the bottom of the gulf, and a mile or more away to the left a deep cleft which leads to the top of the mountain and to freedom. Will you not take it now? By tomorrow’s dawn you might be far away.”
“And where would the lady Rosamund be?” asked Wulf.
“In the harem of the lord Sinan—that is, very soon,” she answered, coolly.
“Oh, say it not!” he exclaimed, clasping her arm, while Godwin leaned back against the wall of the cave.
“Why should I hide the truth? Have you no eyes to see that he is enamoured of her loveliness—like others? Listen; a while ago my master Sinan chanced to lose his queen—how, we need not ask, but it is said that she wearied him. Now, as he must by law, he mourns for her a month, from full moon to full moon. But on the day after the full moon—that is, the third morning from now—he may wed again, and I think there will be a marriage. Till then, however, your sister is as safe as though she yet sat at home in England before Salah-ed-din dreamed his dream.”
“Therefore,” said Godwin, “within that time she must either escape or die.”
“There is a third way,” answered Masouda, shrugging her shoulders. “She might stay and become the wife of Sinan.”
Wulf muttered something between his teeth, then stepped towards her threateningly, saying:
“Rescue her, or—”
“Stand back, pilgrim John,” she said, with a laugh. “If I rescue her, which indeed would be hard, it will not be for fear of your great sword.”