"Saladin will come," said Wulf the hopeful, and from the high place where they stood he pointed to the plain beneath, across which a band of horsemen moved at full gallop.

"Look; yonder goes his embassy." "Ay," answered Godwin, "he will come, but, I fear me, too late." "Yes, brother, unless we go to meet him.

Masouda has promised." "Masouda," sighed Godwin.

"Ah! to think that so much should hang upon the faithfulness of one woman." "It does not hang on her," said Wulf; "it hangs on Fate, who writes with her finger.

Come, let us ride." So, followed by their escort, they rode in the gardens, taking note, without seeming to do so, of the position of the tall rock, and of how it could be approached from every side.