There was darkness and silence in the court of the great khan. The arrow-swift horses of a Persian trader slept in one stall; a tall dromedary shook his tether in another. Richard brushed upon a shaggy donkey; trod upon a mongrel dog, that started with a sullen howl. From one remote stall came a ray of torch-light, and the chatter of merchants discussing the profits of the last Oman caravan. A single watchman stared at them when they led their beasts through the wide gate. The three were under the stars. Musa took the bridle of the horse just bought, and the others followed him. Richard trod on as in a dream; twice he passed his hand before his eyes as if to brush away the blackness that was unbroken save for the star mist.
"To-night! To-night!" he was repeating.
"What, to-night?" asked Godfrey.
"To-night I may touch the hair of Mary Kurkuas. Is not that chance worth the hazard of death? But you?"
"I serve Christ best to-night when I serve one so loved by Him as the Lady of St. Julien. Let us hasten."
They said little more. The night was dark indeed, but Musa seemed bat-eyed. He led across the Kuweik, through the orchards—dim and still, until at a tamarisk bush he halted. There they left the horses. Richard made sure that the lady's saddle on the fourth horse was strapped fast. Musa spoke not a word, but led away swiftly. They were entering the wood. Richard was treading at an eager pace, with a swelling heart, when suddenly he heard a sound behind him,—looked back,—and behold, on all sides, as if called from earth by enchantment, were the dim figures of men! And he could see, even in the darkness, that the dress of each was white.
CHAPTER XXXV
HOW RICHARD HEARD A SONG
Now what befell came so swiftly that in after days Richard could never tell it all. Sure it is, that had Trenchefer and Godfrey's sword and Musa's cimeter left sheath, there had been another tale. For in the twinkling that Richard cast a backward glance, a noose whistled through the air and closed about the Norman's shoulders, locking his arms helpless. And with the whistling rope came a rush of feet and many hands seizing him. One struggle—he could scarce gather wits to resist; he was helpless as a birdling before the snake. At the same instant came the crash and gasp of two desperate conflicts more—Godfrey and Musa likewise seized. As Richard grasped it, the Spaniard succumbed as readily as he. But the great Duke was not lightly taken. Draw he could not, but his mighty hand tore clear of the rope and dashed more than one assailant down before, with ten upon him, he was mastered. All was done in less time than the telling. Almost before Longsword's soul cried "danger," a torch was flashing in his eyes, and a dozen dark Syrian faces pressing close. The torch was held high, and flashed before him twice. Blinded by the glare, he saw nothing beyond the ring of faces. From the dark shadow came a voice—a voice he had heard before: "Bismillah! The Frank, Richard Longsword, at last!"