gerly, "is all ready?"

She nodded and answered:

"At length, all. To-morrow afternoon an assault will be made upon
Ascalon, but even if it is taken the camp will not be moved that
night. There will be great confusion, and Abdullah, who is
somewhat sick, will be the captain of the guard over the
princess's tent. He will allow the soldiers to slip away to
assist in the sack of the city, nor will they betray him. At
sunset but one eunuch will be on watch--Mesrour; and I will find
means to put him to sleep. Abdullah will bring the princess to
this garden disguised as his young son, and there you two and I
shall meet them."

"What then?" asked Godwin.

"Do you remember the old Arab who brought you the horses Flame
and Smoke, and took no payment for them, he who was named Son of
the Sand? Well, as you know, he is my uncle, and he has more
horses of that breed. I have seen him, and he is well pleased at
the tale of Flame and Smoke and the knights who rode them, and
more particularly at the way in which they came to their end,
which he says has brought credit to their ancient blood. At the
foot of this garden is a cave, which was once a sepulchre. There
we shall find the horses--four of them--and with them my uncle,
Son of the Sand, and by the morning light we will be a hundred
miles away and lie hid with his tribe until we can slip to the
coast and board a Christian ship. Does it please you?"

"Very well; but what is Abdullah's price?"

"One only--the enchanted star, the Luck of the House of Hassan;
for nothing else will he take such risks. Will Sir Wulf give it?"

"Surely," answered Godwin with a laugh.

"Good. Then it must be done to-night. When I return I will send
Abdullah to your tent. Fear not; if he takes the jewel he will
give the price, since otherwise he thinks it will bring him ill
fortune."

"Does the lady Rosamund know?" asked Godwin again.

She shook her head.

"Nay, she is mad to escape; she thinks of little else all day
long. But what is the use of telling her till the time comes? The
fewer in such a plot the better, and if anything goes wrong, it
is well that she should be innocent, for then--"

"Then death, and farewell to all things," said Godwin; "nor
indeed should I grieve to say them good-bye. But, Masouda, you
run great peril. Tell me now, honestly, why do you do this?"

As he spoke the lightning flashed and showed her face as she
stood there against a background of green leaves and r