anoum, the Melek is no dog. Nay, he is
more than a man. He is the yellow-haired King of the West, riding a
white horse, who was foretold by various prophets, that he should come
up against the Sultan. That I know.'

'Then he will have more than a man's death,' said Fanoum. 'The Marquess
goeth with Giafar to Lebanon, to see the Old Man of Musse, whom he
serveth. The Melek must die, for of all men living or dead the Marquess
hateth him.'

'Oh, King of Kings!' said Misra, with a little sob, 'and thou wilt stand
by, thou sorrowful, while the Marquess kills the Melek!'

Fanoum answered, 'Certainly I will; for any of our lord's people can
kill the Marquess; but it needeth the guile of the Old Man to kill the
Melek. Let the wolf slay the lion while he sleepeth: anon cometh the
shepherd and slayeth the gorged wolf. That is good sense.'

'Well,' said Misra, 'it may be so. But I am sorry for his favourite
here. There are no daughters of Au so goodly as this one. The Melek is
a wise lover of women.'

'Let be for that,' replied Fanoum comfortably; 'the Old Man of Musse is
a wiser. He will come and have her, and we do well enough in Lebanon.'

They would have said more, had Jehane needed any more. But it seemed to
her that she knew enough. There was danger brewing for King Richard,
whom she, faithless wretch, had let go without her. As she thought of
the leper, of her promise to the Queen-Mother, of Richard towering but
to fall, her heart grew cold in her bosom, then filled with fire and
throbbed as if to burst. It is extraordinary, however, how soon she saw
her way clear, and on how small a knowledge. Who this Old Man might be,
who lived on Lebanon and was most wise in the matter of women, she could
have no guess; but she was quite sure of him, was certain that he was
wise. She knew something of the Marquess, her cousin. Any ally of his
must be a murdermonger. A wise lover of women, the Old Man of Musse, who
dwelt on Lebanon! Wiser than Richard! And she more goodly than the
daughters of Au! Who were the daughters of Ali? Beautiful women? What
did it matter if she excelled them? God knew these things; but Jehane
knew that she must go to market with the Old Man of Musse. So much she
calmly revolved in her mind as she lay her length, with shut eyes, in
her bed.

With the first cranny of light she had herself dressed by her sulky,
sleepy women, and went abroad. There were very few to see her, none to
dare her any harm, so well