at the gleaming gems and the writings that made
her royal, and her eyes flashed and her breast heaved, as they
had done by the church of St. Peter on the Essex coast. Thrice
she looked while they watched her, then turned her head as from
the bait of some great temptation and answered one word
only--"Nay."

"Well spoken," said her father, who knew her blood and its
longings. "At least, had the 'nay' been 'yea,' you must have gone
alone. Give me ink and parchment, Godwin."

They were brought, and he wrote:

"To the Sultan Saladin, from Andrew D'Arcy and his daughter
Rosamund.

"We have received your letter, and we answer that where we are
there we will bide in such state as God has given us.
Nevertheless, we thank you, Sultan, since we believe you honest,
and we wish you well, except in your wars against the Cross. As
for your threats, we will do our best to bring them to nothing.
Knowing the customs of the East, we do not send back your gifts
to you, since to do so would be to offer insult to one of the
greatest men in all the world; but if you choose to ask for them,
they are yours--not ours. Of your dream we say that it was but an
empty vision of the night which a wise man should forget.--Your
servant and your niece."

Then he signed, and Rosamund signed after him, and the writing
was done up, wrapped in silk, and sealed.

"Now," said Sir Andrew, "hide away this wealth, since were it
known that we had such treasures in the place, every thief in
England would be our visitor, some of them bearing high names, I
think."

So they laid the gold-embroidered robes and the priceless sets of
gems back in their coffer, and having locked it, hid it away in
the great iron-bound chest that stood in Sir Andrew's sleeping
chamber.

When everything was finished, Sir Andrew said: "Listen now,
Rosamund, and you also, my nephews. I have never told you the
true tale of how the sister of Saladin, who was known as
Zobeide, daughter of Ayoub, and afterwards christened into our
faith by the name of Mary, came to be my wife. Yet you should
learn it, if only to show how evil returns upon a man. After the
great Nur-ed-din took Damascus, Ayoub was made its governor; then
some three-and-twenty years ago came the capture of Harenc, in
which my brother fell. Here I was wounded and taken prisoner.
They bore me to Damascus, where I was lodged in the palace of
Ayoub and kindly treated. Here too it was, while I lay sick, that
I made frien