There was a pause.
"She shall be delivered into the hands of Hassan Abdullah! And he will sail away with his white-plumed bird—the fairest flower of the North—and the ransom of a city."
"Yet I do not know the lady's name," said the Saracen. "This I should know—else how may she heed my call?"
"Those who love her call her Hellayne."
At the name Tristan started so violently that the monk caught his arm in a grip of steel.
"Silence—if you value your life," Odo enjoined.
"When and where is she to be delivered into my hands?" Hassan Abdullah continued.
"The place will be made known to you, my lord," Basil replied, "when the Emperor's Tomb hails its new master."
"Here is an infernal plot," Odo whispered into Tristan's ear, "spawned up by the very Prince of Darkness."
"What can we do?" came back the almost soundless reply. "Hellayne to be delivered over to this infidel dog! Nay, do not restrain me, Father—"