we run to a secret port near Antioch, whence you are
to be taken overland to Damascus, avoiding all cities of the
Franks. Now, the Emperor Isaac of Cyprus is my friend, and over
him Saladin has no power. Once in his court, you would be safe
until such time as you found opportunity to return to England.
This, then, is my plan--that you should escape from the ship at
night as I can arrange."

"And what is your payment," she asked, "who are a merchant
knight?"

"My payment, lady, is--yourself. In Cyprus we will be wed--oh!
think before you answer. At Damascus many dangers await you; with
me you will find safety and a Christian husband who loves you
well--so well that for your sake he is willing to lose his ship
and, what is more, to break faith with Saladin, whose arm is
long."

"Have done," she said coldly. "Sooner will I trust myself to an
honest Saracen than to you, Sir Hugh, whose spurs, if you met
your desert, should be hacked from your heels by scullions. Yes,
sooner would I take death for my lord than you, who for your own
base ends devised the plot that brought my father to his murder
and me to slavery. Have done, I say, and never dare again to
speak of love to me," and rising, she walked past him to her
cabin.

But Lozelle looking after her muttered to himself, "Nay, fair
lady, I have but begun; nor will I forget your bitter words, for
which you shall pay the merchant knight in kisses."

From her cabin Rosamund sent a message to Hassan, saying that
she would speak with him.

He came, still pale with illness, and asked her will, whereon she
told him what had passed between Lozelle and herself, demanding
his protection against this man.

Hassan's eyes flashed.

"Yonder he stands," he said, "alone. Will you come with me and
speak to him?"

She bowed her head, and giving her his hand, he led her to the
poop.

"Sir captain," he began, addressing Lozelle, "the Princess here
tells me a strange story--that you have dared to offer your love
to her, by Allah! to her, a niece of Salah-ed-din."

"What of it, Sir Saracen?" answered Lozelle, insolently. "Is not
a Christian knight fit mate for the blood of an Eastern chief?
Had I offered her less than marriage, you might have spoken."

"You!" answered Hassan, with rage in his low voice, "you,
huckstering thief and renegade, who swear by Mahomet in Damascus
and by your prophet Jesus in England--ay, deny it not, I have
heard you, as I have heard that rogue, Ni