Have done, I say, and never dare again to speak of love to me," and rising, she walked past him to her cabin.
But Lozelle looking after her muttered to himself, "Nay, fair lady, I have but begun; nor will I forget your bitter words, for which you shall pay the merchant knight in kisses." From her cabin Rosamund sent a message to Hassan, saying that she would speak with him.
He came, still pale with illness, and asked her will, whereon she told him what had passed between Lozelle and herself, demanding his protection against this man.
Hassan's eyes flashed.
"Yonder he stands," he said, "alone.

Will you come with me and speak to him ?" She bowed her head, and giving her his hand, he led her to the poop.
"Sir captain," he began, addressing Lozelle, "the Princess here tells me a strange story--that you have dared to offer your love to her, by Allah! to her, a niece of Salah-ed-din." "What of it, Sir Saracen ?" answered Lozelle, insolently.

"Is not a Christian knight fit mate for the blood of an Eastern chief?
Had I offered her less than marriage, you might have spoken." "You!" answered Hassan, with rage in his low voice, "you, huckstering thief and renegade, who swear by Mahomet in Damascus and by your prophet Jesus in England--ay, deny it not, I have heard you, as I have heard that rogue, Nicholas, your servant.
You, her fit mate?
Why, were it not that you must guide this ship, and that my master bade me not to quarrel with you till your task was done, I would behead you now and cut from your throat the tongue that dared to speak such words," and as he spoke he gripped the handle of his scimitar.
Lozelle quailed before his fierce eyes, for well he knew Hassan, and knew also that if it came to fighting his sailors were no match for the emir and his picked Saracens.
"When our duty is done you shall answer for those words," he said, trying to look brave.
"By Allah! I hold you to the promise," replied Hassan.

"Before Salah-ed-din I will answer for them when and where you will, as you shall answer to him for your treachery." "Of what, then, am I accused ?" asked Lozelle.

"Of loving the lady Rosamund, as do all men--perhaps yourself, old and withered as you are, among them ?" "Ay, and for that crime I will repay you, old and withered as I am, Sir Renegade.