Soon Godwin and Masouda, toiling behind, saw them enter the mouth of the pass.
"Good," she said.

"Except those of their own breed, there are no horses in Syria that can catch those two.

They will come to Emesa, have no fear." "Who was the man who brought them to us ?" asked Godwin, as they galloped side by side, their eyes fixed upon the ever-nearing cloud of dust, in which the spear points sparkled.
"My father's brother--my uncle, as I called him," she answered.
"He is a sheik of the desert, who owns the ancient breed that cannot be bought for gold." "Then you are not of the Assassins, Masouda ?" "No; I may tell you, now that the end seems near.

My father was an Arab, my mother a noble Frank, a French woman, whom he found starving in the desert after a fight, and took to his tent and made his wife.

The Assassins fell upon us and killed him and her, and captured me as a child of twelve.