s, save
Rosamund, who declared that she would die undisfigured as God had
made her, and two other novices, they swore it one by one, laying
their hands upon the altar.

Then again they got them to their knees and sang the Miserere.

Presently, above their mournful chant, the sound of loud,
insistent knockings echoed down the vaulted roofs. They sprang up
screaming:

"The Saracens are here! Give us knives! Give us knives!"

Rosamund drew the dagger from its sheath.

"Wait awhile," cried the abbess. "These may be friends, not foes.
Sister Ursula, go to the door and seek tidings."

The sister, an aged woman, obeyed with tottering steps, and,
reaching the massive portal, undid the guichet, or lattice, and
asked with a quavering voice:

"Who are you that knock?" while the nuns within held their breath
and strained their ears to catch the answer.

Presently it came, in a woman's silvery tones, that sounded
strangely still and small in the spaces of that tomb-like
church.

"I am the Queen Sybilla, with her ladies."

"And what would you with us, O Queen? The right of sanctuary?"

"Nay; I bring with me some envoys from Saladin, who would have
speech with the lady named Rosamund D'Arcy, who is among you."

Now at these words Rosamund fled to the altar, and stood there,
still holding the naked dagger in her hand.

"Let her not fear," went on the silvery voice, "for no harm shall
come to her against her will. Admit us, holy Abbess, we beseech
you in the name of Christ."

Then the abbess said, "Let us receive the queen with such dignity
as we may." Motioning to the nuns to take their appointed seats.
in the choir she placed herself in the great chair at the head of
them, whilst behind her at the raised altar stood Rosamund, the
bare knife in her hand.

The door was opened, and through it swept a strange procession.
First came the beauteous queen wearing her insignia of royalty,
but with a black veil upon her head. Next followed ladies of her
court--twelve of them--trembling with fright but splendidly
apparelled, and after these three stern and turbaned Saracens
clad in mail, their jewelled scimitars at their sides. Then
appeared a procession of women, most of them draped in mourning,
and leading scared children by the hand; the wives, sisters, and
widows of nobles, knights and burgesses of Jerusalem. Last of all
marched a hundred or more of captains and warriors, among them
Wulf, headed by Sir Balian and ended