But although from time to time they looked about them for their master, the Arab, whinnying as they looked, this they did not do, or show vice of any kind; indeed, two Iadies' palfreys could not have been more quiet.

So the brethren brought them home again, groomed, fed and fondled them, while they pricked their ears, sniffing them all over, as though they knew that these were their new lords and wished to make friends of them.
The morrow was a Sunday, and, attended by Masouda's slave, without whom she would not suffer them to walk in the town, the brethren went to mass in the big church which once had been a mosque, wearing pilgrim's robes over their mail.
"Do you not accompany us, who are of the faith ?" asked Wulf.
"Nay," answered Masouda, "I am in no mood to make confession.
This day I count my beads at home." So they went alone, and mingling with a crowd of humble persons at the back of the church, which was large and dim, watched the knights and priests of various nations struggling for precedence of place beneath the dome.

Also they heard the bishop of the town preach a sermon from which they learnt much.

He spoke at length of the great coming war with Saladin, whom he named Anti-Christ.
Moreover, he prayed them all to compose their differences and prepare for that awful struggle, lest in the end the Cross of their Master should be trampled under foot of the Saracen, His soldiers slain, His fanes desecrated, and His people slaughtered or driven into the sea--words of warning that were received in heavy silence.
"Four full days have gone by.

Let us ask our hostess if she has any news for us," said Wulf as they walked back to the inn.
"Ay, we will ask her," answered Godwin.
As it chanced, there was no need, for when they entered their chamber they found Masouda standing in the centre of it, apparently lost in thought.
"I have come to speak with you," she said, looking up.