“Ah, well, I daresay she can love enough for two who does nothing by halves, and, all things considered,” he added, with one of his great laughs, “I am glad it is I of whom she thinks so little—yes, I who adore her as though she were my patron saint. Hark! the guards challenge,” and, forgetting where he was, he snatched at his sword.
Then the door opened, and through it appeared the emir Hassan, who saluted them in the name of Allah, searching them with his quiet eyes.
“Few would judge, to look at you, Sir Knights,” he said with a smile, “that you have been the guests of the Old Man of the Mountain, and left his house so hastily by the back door. Three days more and you will be as lusty as when we met beyond the seas upon the wharf by a certain creek. Oh, you are brave men, both of you, though you be infidels, from which error may the Prophet guide you; brave men, the flower of knighthood. Ay, I, Hassan, who have known many Frankish knights, say it from my heart,” and, placing his hand to his turban, he bowed before them in admiration that was not feigned.
“We thank you, Prince, for your praise,” said Godwin gravely, but Wulf stepped forward, took his hand, and shook it.
“That was an ill trick, Prince, which you played us yonder in England,” he said, “and one that brought as good a warrior as ever drew a sword—our uncle Sir Andrew D’Arcy—to an end sad as it was glorious. Still, you obeyed your master, and because of all that has happened since, I forgive you, and call you friend, although should we ever meet in battle I still hope to pay you for that drugged wine.”
Here Hassan bowed, and said softly:
“I admit that the debt is owing; also that none sorrow more for the death of the noble lord D’Arcy than I, your servant, who, by the will of God, brought it upon him. When we meet, Sir Wulf, in war—and that, I think, will be an ill hour for me—strike, and strike home; I shall not complain. Meanwhile, we are friends, and in very truth all that I have is yours. But now I come to tell you that the princess Rose of the World—Allah bless her footsteps!—is recovered from her fatigues, and desires that you should breakfast with her in an hour’s time. Also the doctor waits to tend your bruises, and slaves to lead you to the bath and clothe you. Nay, leave your hauberk; here the faith of Salah-ed-din and of his servants is your best armour.”
“Still, I think that we will take them,” said Godwin, “for faith is a poor defence against the daggers of these Assassins, who dwell not so far away.”
“True,” answered Hassan; “I had forgotten.” So thus they departed.
An hour later they were led to the hall, where presently came Rosamund, and with her Masouda and Hassan.