"Dear friends," she said gently, "you add sin to sin for my sake. The end cannot be far away. But God is very near, and I fear nothing."
CHAPTER XXXVII
HOW ROLLO CARRIED WEIGHT
Iftikhar had vanished. The Ismaelians on guard had retreated down the long gallery. Musa from his post declared that only a few sentries remained at the foot of the stairs. Morgiana, who had crouched in silence on a divan during the combat, arose, and without a word opened a cupboard in the side of the wall. She drew forth a silver flagon and cups, proffering each of the three combatants a spiced wine that sent new life through their weariness. Godfrey relieved Musa at the staircase, and the Spaniard, going to the open window, leaned forth to espy the next move of Iftikhar. In the starlight he could only see the tracery of the forest of palms, and here and there, ghost-like, a white dress flitting. The lamps in the chamber were flickering low. Morgiana extinguished most, and poured the remaining oil into two,—leaving barely enough light to break the gloom in the vaulted chamber. It had suddenly become very still through the palace. Almost was Richard persuaded that the Egyptian by some magic had departed with all his "devoted." In the oppressive silence none tried speech. Mary had returned to her post on the divan, and Richard knew she was sobbing, though no sound came. Musa stole noiselessly about the room, completing his inspection. Once he paused at the sealed door, and flung himself against it—adamant had scarce seemed firmer. He came to Richard's side and shook his head. "Some new attack is preparing," was his whisper; "in what way, Allah alone knows! I see no road to escape."
"The sealed door?" asked Longsword.
"The spell of Solomon has turned it to iron. We can escape only over the Ismaelians, or on the wings of Roc, the giant bird, whose back upbears an army."
"Then over the Ismaelians be it!" quoth the Norman, laughing grimly; and he added, "Ah, brother, you know well my proverb: 'Easier go through the wall than mount it'!"
But Musa did not laugh in reply.
"Brother mine," said he, "I think you and Cid Godfrey are each mighty as Jalut, whom you call 'Goliath.' But Iftikhar says well; you are no jinns. In the last charge the Ismaelians nearly passed you, and all would have been over."