“An ill ally,” answered Godwin. Then looking her straight in the face he asked, “Hostess, who know so much, tell me why, amongst other names, did that donkey driver call you ‘daughter of Al-je-bal’?”
She started, and answered:
“So you understand Arabic? I thought it. Why do you ask? What does it matter to you?”
“Not much, except that, as we are going to visit Al-je-bal, of course we think ourselves fortunate to have met his daughter.”
“Going to visit Al-je-bal? Yes, you hinted as much upon the ship, did you not? Perhaps that is why I came to meet you. Well, your throats will be cut before ever you reach the first of his castles.”
“I think not,” said Godwin, and, putting his hand into his breast, he drew thence a ring, with which he began to play carelessly.
“Whence that ring?” she said, with fear and wonder in her eyes. “It is—” and she ceased.
“From one to whom it was given and who has charged us with a message. Now, hostess, let us be plain with one another. You know a great deal about us, but although it has suited us to call ourselves the pilgrims Peter and John, in all this there is nothing of which we need be ashamed, especially as you say that our secret is no secret, which I can well believe. Now, this secret being out, I propose that we remove ourselves from your roof, and go to stay with our own people at the castle, where, I doubt not, we shall be welcome, telling them that we would bide no longer with one who is called a spy, whom we have discovered also to be a ‘daughter of Al-je-bal.’ After which, perhaps, you will bide no longer in Beirut, where, as we gather, spies and the ‘daughters of Al-je-bal’ are not welcome.”
She listened with an impassive face, and answered: “Doubtless you have heard that one of us who was so named was burned here recently as a witch?”
“Yes,” broke in Wulf, who now learned this fact for the first time, “we heard that.”