with a low cry flung an arm about the neck of
each and would have fallen in the ecstacy of her joy had they not
held her. Indeed, her knees touched the ground. As they stooped
to lift her it flashed into Godwin's mind that Masouda had told
Sinan that they were her brethren. The thought was followed by
another. If this were so, they might be left with her, whereas
otherwise that black-robed devil--

"Listen," he whispered in English; "we are not your cousins--we
are your brothers, your half-brothers, and we know no Arabic."

She heard and Wulf heard, but the watchers thought that they were
but welcoming each other, for Wulf began to talk also, random
words in French, such as "Greeting, sister!" "Well found,
sister!" and kissed her on the forehead.

Rosamund opened her eyes, which had closed, and, gaining her
feet, gave one hand to each of the brethren. Then the voice of
Masouda was heard interpreting the words of Sinan.

"It seems, lady, that you know these knights."

"I do--well. They are my brothers, from whom I was stolen when
they were drugged and our father was killed."

"How is that, lady, seeing that you are said to be the niece of
Salah-ed-din? Are these knights, then, the nephews of
Salah-ed-din?"

"Nay," answered Rosamund, "they are my father's sons, but of
another wife."

The answer appeared to satisfy Sinan, who fixed his eyes upon the
pale beauty of Rosamund and asked no more questions. While he
remained thus thinking, a noise arose at the end of the terrace,
and the brethren, turning their heads, saw that the thick-set
knight was striving to thrust his way through the guards who
stood by the curtains and barred his path with the shafts of
their spears.

Then it came into Godwin's mind that just before Rosamund
unveiled he had seen this knight suddenly turn and walk down the
terrace.

The lord Sinan looked up at the sound and made a sign. Thereon
two of the dais sprang to their feet and ran towards the curtain,
where they spoke with the knight, who turned and came back with
them, though slowly, as one who is unwilling. Now his hood had
fallen from his head, and Godwin and Wulf stared at him as he
advanced, for surely they knew those great shoulders, those round
black eyes, those thick lips, and that heavy jowl.

"Lozelle! It is Lozelle!" said Godwin.

"Ay," echoed Rosamund, "it is Lozelle, the double traitor, who
betrayed me first to the soldiers of Saladin, and, because I
would have none