“He hath,” answered De Vaux; “the hermit of Engaddi, who erst did him that office when preparing for death, attends him on the present occasion, the fame of the duel having brought him hither.”
“'Tis well,” said Richard; “and now for the knight's request. Say to him, Richard will receive him when the discharge of his devoir beside the Diamond of the Desert shall have atoned for his fault beside the Mount of Saint George; and as thou passest through the camp, let the Queen know I will visit her pavilion—and tell Blondel to meet me there.”
De Vaux departed, and in about an hour afterwards, Richard, wrapping his mantle around him, and taking his ghittern in his hand, walked in the direction of the Queen's pavilion. Several Arabs passed him, but always with averted heads and looks fixed upon the earth, though he could observe that all gazed earnestly after him when he was past. This led him justly to conjecture that his person was known to them; but that either the Soldan's commands, or their own Oriental politeness, forbade them to seem to notice a sovereign who desired to remain incognito.
When the King reached the pavilion of his Queen he found it guarded by those unhappy officials whom Eastern jealousy places around the zenana. Blondel was walking before the door, and touched his rote from time to time in a manner which made the Africans show their ivory teeth, and bear burden with their strange gestures and shrill, unnatural voices.
“What art thou after with this herd of black cattle, Blondel?” said the King; “wherefore goest thou not into the tent?”
“Because my trade can neither spare the head nor the fingers,” said Blondel, “and these honest blackamoors threatened to cut me joint from joint if I pressed forward.”
“Well, enter with me,” said the King, “and I will be thy safeguard.”
The blacks accordingly lowered pikes and swords to King Richard, and bent their eyes on the ground, as if unworthy to look upon him. In the interior of the pavilion they found Thomas de Vaux in attendance on the Queen. While Berengaria welcomed Blondel, King Richard spoke for some time secretly and apart with his fair kinswoman.
At length, “Are we still foes, my fair Edith?” he said, in a whisper.
“No, my liege,” said Edith, in a voice just so low as not to interrupt the music; “none can bear enmity against King Richard when he deigns to show himself, as he really is, generous and noble, as well as valiant and honourable.”