"Do you mean the lord--who kills ?" And she looked at him--a terrible look.
At that glance all the anger seemed to go out of the man.
"Your pardon, widow Masouda," he said.

"I forgot that you are a Christian, and naturally side with Christians.

The money will not pay for the wear of my ass's hoofs, but give it me, and let me go to pilgrims who will reward me better." She gave him the sum, adding in her quiet voice: "Go; and if you love life, keep better watch over your words." Then the porter went, and now so humble was his mien that in his dirty turban and long, tattered robe he looked, Wulf thought, more like a bundle of rags than a man mounted on the donkey's back.

Also it came into his mind that their strange hostess had powers not possessed by innkeepers in England.

When she had watched him through the gate, Masouda turned to them and said in French: "Forgive me, but here in Beirut these Saracen porters are extortionate, especially towards us Christians.