ink to earth, for
the purpose of repeating their devotions, with their faces turned to
Mecca. But when they arose from the ground, the sun's rays, now
strengthening fast, seemed to confirm the Lord of Gilsland's conjecture
of the night before. They were flashed back from many a spear-head, for
the pointless lances of the preceding day were certainly no longer such.
De Vaux pointed it out to his master, who answered with impatience, that
he had perfect confidence in the good faith of the Soldan; but if De
Vaux was afraid of his bulky body, he might retire.

Soon after this the noise of timbrels was heard, at the sound of which
the whole Saracen cavaliers threw themselves from their horses, and
prostrated themselves, as if for a second morning prayer. This was to
give an opportunity to the Queen, with Edith and her attendants, to pass
from the pavilion to the gallery intended for them. Fifty guards of
Saladin's seraglio escorted them, with naked sabres, whose orders were,
to cut to pieces whomsoever, were he prince or peasant, should venture
to gaze on the ladies as they passed, or even presume to raise his head
until the cessation of the music should make all men aware that they
were lodged in their gallery, not to be gazed on by the curious eye.

This superstitious observance of Oriental reverence to the fair sex
called forth from Queen Berengaria some criticisms very unfavorable to
Saladin and his country. But their den, as the royal fair called it,
being securely closed and guarded by their sable attendants, she was
under the necessity of contenting herself with seeing, and laying aside
for the present the still more exquisite pleasure of being seen.

Meantime the sponsors of both champions went, as was their duty, to see
that they were duly armed, and prepared for combat. The Archduke of
Austria was in no hurry to perform this part of the ceremony, having had
rather an unusually severe debauch upon wine of Schiraz the preceding
evening. But the Grand Master of the Temple, more deeply concerned in
the event of the combat, was early before the tent of Conrade of
Montserrat. To his great surprise, the attendants refused him
admittance.

"Do you not know me, ye knaves?" said the Grand Master in great anger.

"We do, most valiant and reverend," answered Conrade's squire; "but even
_you_ may not at present enter--the Marquis is about to confess
himself."

"Confess himself!" exclaimed the Templar, in a tone where alar