Presently the door opened, and through it came the abbess in her white robes--a tall and stately Englishwoman, of middle age, who looked at them curiously.
"Lady Abbess," said Wulf, bowing low, "my name is Wulf D'Arcy.

Do you remember me ?" "Yes.

We met in Jerusalem--before the battle of Hattin," she answered.

"Also I know something of your story in this land--a very strange one." "This lady," went on Wulf, "is the daughter and heiress of Sir Andrew D'Arcy, my dead uncle, and in Syria the princess of Baalbec and the niece of Saladin." The abbess started, and asked: "Is she, then, of their accursed faith, as her garb would seem to show ?" "Nay, mother," said Rosamund, "I am a Christian, if a sinful one, and I come here to seek sanctuary, lest when they know who I am and he clamours at their gates, my fellow Christians may surrender me to my uncle, the Sultan." "Tell me the story," said the abbess; and they told her briefly, while she listened, amazed.

When they had finished, she said: "Alas! my daughter, how can we save you, whose own lives are at stake?
That belongs to God alone.