“And now you are safe in England, do you purpose to return to Damascus with the answer, and, if so, why?”
“For two reasons, Sir Andrew. First, because I have sworn to do so, and I do not break my word any more than does Saladin. Secondly, because I continue to wish to live, and the Sultan promised me that if I failed in my mission, he would bring about my death wherever I might be, which I am sure he has the power to do by magic or otherwise. Well, the rest of the tale is short. The chest was handed over to me as you see it, and with it money sufficient for my faring to and fro and something to spare. Then I was escorted to Joppa, where I took passage on a ship bound to Italy, where I found another ship named the Holy Mary sailing for Calais, which we reached after being nearly cast away. Thence I came to Dover in a fishing boat, landing there eight days ago, and having bought a mule, joined some travellers to London, and so on here.”
“And how will you return?”
The palmer shrugged his shoulders.
“As best I may, and as quickly. Is your answer ready, Sir Andrew?”
“Yes; it is here,” and he handed him the roll, which Nicholas hid away in the folds of his great cloak. Then Sir Andrew added, “You say you know nothing of all the business in which you play this part?”
“Nothing; or, rather, only this—the officer who escorted me to Jaffa told me that there was a stir among the learned doctors and diviners at the court because of a certain dream which the Sultan had dreamed three times. It had to do with a lady who was half of the blood of Ayoub and half English, and they said that my mission was mixed up with this matter. Now I see that the noble lady before me has eyes strangely like those of the Sultan Saladin.” And he spread out his hands and ceased.
“You seem to see a good deal, friend Nicholas.”
“Sir Andrew, a poor palmer who wishes to preserve his throat unslit must keep his eyes open. Now I have eaten well, and I am weary. Is there any place where I may sleep? I must be gone at daybreak, for those who do Saladin’s business dare not tarry, and I have your letter.”
“There is a place,” answered Sir Andrew. “Wulf, take him to it, and to-morrow, before he leaves, we will speak again. Till then, farewell, holy Nicholas.”