“Let the knights settle it,” said the commander, shrugging his shoulders impatiently and spurring his horse.
“Surely we will take her,” said Godwin, “though what we shall do with her if her friends are wanting I do not know. Come, lady, ride between us.”
She turned her head to the Arab as though in question, and he repeated the words, whereon she fell into the place that was shown to her between and a little behind the brethren.
“Perhaps,” went on the Arab to Godwin, “by now you have learned more of our tongue than you knew when we met in past days at Beirut, and rode the mountain side on the good horses Flame and Smoke. Still, if so, I pray you of your knightly courtesy disturb not this woman with your words, nor ask her to unveil her face, since such is not the custom of her people. It is but an hour’s journey to the city gate during which you will be troubled with her. This is the payment that I ask of you for the two good horses which, as I am told, bore you none so ill upon the Narrow Way and across plain and mountain when you fled from Sinan, also on the evil day of Hattin when you unhorsed Salah-ed-din and slew Hassan.”
“It shall be as you wish,” said Godwin; “and, Son of the Sand, we thank you for those horses.”
“Good. When you want more, let it be known in the market places that you seek me,” and he began to turn his horse’s head.
“Stay,” said Godwin. “What do you know of Masouda, your niece? Is she with you?”
“Nay,” answered the Arab in a low voice, “but she bade me be in a certain garden of which you have heard, near Ascalon, at an appointed hour, to take her away, as she is leaving the camp of Salah-ed-din. So thither I go. Farewell.” Then with a reverence to the veiled lady, he shook his reins and departed like an arrow by the road along which they had come.
Godwin gave a sigh of relief. If Masouda had appointed to meet her uncle the Arab, at least she must be safe. So it was no voice of hers which seemed to whisper his name in the darkness of the night when terror had ahold of him—terror, born perhaps of all that he had endured and the shadow of death through which he had so lately passed. Then he looked up, to find Wulf staring back at the woman behind him, and reproved him, saying that he must keep to the spirit of the bargain as well as to the letter, and that if he might not speak he must not look either.
“That is a pity,” answered Wulf, “for though she is so tied up, she must be a tall and noble lady by the way she sits her horse. The horse, too, is noble, own cousin or brother to Smoke, I think. Perhaps she will sell it when we get to Jerusalem.”