“And think to bring a like fate upon me. Why, foolish men, I can lay you both dead before ever those words pass your lips.”
“You think you can,” said Godwin, “but for my part I am sure that this is not fated, and am sure also that you do not wish to harm us any more than we wish to harm you. To be plain, then, it is necessary for us to visit Al-je-bal. As chance has brought us together—if it be chance—will you aid us in this, as I think you can, or must we seek other help?”
“I do not know. I will tell you after four days. If you are not satisfied with that, go, denounce me, do your worst, and I will do mine, for which I should be sorry.”
“Where is the security that you will not do it if we are satisfied?” asked Wulf bluntly.
“You must take the word of a ‘daughter of Al-je-bal.’ I have none other to offer,” she replied.
“That may mean death,” said Wulf.
“You said just now that was not fated, and although I have sought your company for my own reasons, I have no quarrel with you—as yet. Choose your own path. Still, I tell you that if you go, who, chancing to know Arabic, have learned my secret, you die, and that if you stay you are safe—at least while you are in this house. I swear it on the token of Al-je-bal,” and bending forward she touched the ring in Godwin’s hand, “but remember that for the future I cannot answer.”
Godwin and Wulf looked at each other. Then Godwin replied:
“I think that we will trust you, and stay,” words at which she smiled a little as though she were pleased, then said:
“Now, if you wish to walk abroad, guests Peter and John, I will summon the slave to guide you, and in four days we will talk more of this matter of your journey, which, until then, had best be forgotten.”