“He may be met with in the front of battle,” said the knight, his eyes gleaming with the ideas which such a thought inspired.
“He has been ever found there,” said Ilderim; “nor is it his wont to turn his horse's head from any brave encounter. But it was not of the Soldan that I meant to speak. In a word, if it will content thee to be placed in such reputation as may be attained by detection of the thief who stole the Banner of England, I can put thee in a fair way of achieving this task—that is, if thou wilt be governed; for what says Lokman, 'If the child would walk, the nurse must lead him; if the ignorant would understand, the wise must instruct.'”
“And thou art wise, Ilderim,” said the Scot—“wise though a Saracen, and generous though an infidel. I have witnessed that thou art both. Take, then, the guidance of this matter; and so thou ask nothing of me contrary to my loyalty and my Christian faith, I, will obey thee punctually. Do what thou hast said, and take my life when it is accomplished.”
“Listen thou to me, then,” said the Saracen. “Thy noble hound is now recovered, by the blessing of that divine medicine which healeth man and beast; and by his sagacity shall those who assailed him be discovered.”
“Ha!” said the knight, “methinks I comprehend thee. I was dull not to think of this!”
“But tell me,” added the Emir, “hast thou any followers or retainers in the camp by whom the animal may be known?”
“I dismissed,” said Sir Kenneth, “my old attendant, thy patient, with a varlet that waited on him, at the time when I expected to suffer death, giving him letters for my friends in Scotland; there are none other to whom the dog is familiar. But then my own person is well known—my very speech will betray me, in a camp where I have played no mean part for many months.”
“Both he and thou shalt be disguised, so as to escape even close examination. I tell thee,” said the Saracen, “that not thy brother in arms—not thy brother in blood—shall discover thee, if thou be guided by my counsels. Thou hast seen me do matters more difficult—he that can call the dying from the darkness of the shadow of death can easily cast a mist before the eyes of the living. But mark me: there is still the condition annexed to this service—that thou deliver a letter of Saladin to the niece of the Melech Ric, whose name is as difficult to our Eastern tongue and lips, as her beauty is delightful to our eyes.”
Sir Kenneth paused before he answered, and the Saracen observing his hesitation, demanded of him, “if he feared to undertake this message?”
“Not if there were death in the execution,” said Sir Kenneth. “I do but pause to consider whether it consists with my honour to bear the letter of the Soldan, or with that of the Lady Edith to receive it from a heathen prince.”