Louis nodded.
"You are bewitched, fair sir," laughed Richard, gayly; "the rascal was long since in Syria or Egypt." And here his face grew dark, as he thought of the sack of Cefalu, and that Eleanor might be in the clutches of Zeyneb himself that moment. It was well to forgive Christian enemies, but to hate infidel foes took on new merit by wearing the cross, and Richard was not minded to forget Iftikhar Eddauleh.
"On the relics I could swear I saw him!" protested Louis.
"It is true," added Godfrey; "I set eyes on such a knave. Not that I set him down as infidel. But I had little liking to have such a fellow within arm's length; my ribs nigh itched with a dagger at merely seeing him. When he sidled up to us, I gave him a frown that made him hide his black head in the crowd."
"Well, fair Duke," said Richard, "rest assured, he has not come to hear the Holy Father, if this is Zeyneb, the slave of Iftikhar. Bishop Robert wrote something of his coming to France, but entirely doubted the tale."
"By St. Michael of Antwerp," declared Godfrey, "what do infidels at Clermont?"
Richard shook his head, but Herbert, who heard all, came to him only a moment afterwards and led him aside.
"Little lord,—you must wear the ring-shirt."
The Baron resisted. "You grow fearful as an old woman, Herbert. Godfrey and Louis dream, when they say a creature of Iftikhar is in Clermont."
But Sebastian urged as well.