he pointed towards Mount Lebanon.
'Thou and Guy?'
'No, no; Guy turned craven. Could not endure our wanderings in the marshes and hills, pined for his wife forsooth, fell sick, and must needs go and give himself up to the Pope; so he sings the penitential psalms night and day.'
'And we heard thou wast dead at Siena.'
'Thou hearest many a false tale,' said Simon. 'Of my death thou shalt judge, if thou wilt turn thy horse and ride with me to our hill-fort of Ain Gebel, in Galilee. They say 'tis the very one which King David or King Herod, whichever it was, could only take by letting down his men-at-arms in boxes! I should like to see the boxes that we could not send skimming down the abyss! And a wondrous place they have left us-vaults as cool as a convent wine-cellar, fountains out of the rock, marble columns.'
'But, brother, for whom do you hold it? For the King of Cyprus or- ?'
'For myself, boy! For King Simon, an it like you better! None can touch me or my merry band there, and a goodly company we are- pilgrims grown wiser, and runaway captives, and Druses, and bold Arabs too: and the choicest of many a heretic Armenian merchants' caravan is ours, and of many a Saracen village; corn and wine, fair dames, and Damascus blades, and Arab steeds. Nothing has been wanting to me but thee and vengeance, and both are, I hope, on the way!'
'Not I, certainly!' said Richard, shrinking back in horror: 'I-a sworn crusader!'
'Tush, what are we but crusaders too, boy? 'Tis all service against the Moslem! Thy patron saint sent thee to me to-day from special care for thy safety.'
'How so!' exclaimed Richard. 'If peril threaten my Lord, I must be with him at once.'
'Much hast thou gained by hanging on upon him,' said Simon scornfully, glancing at Richard's heels; 'not so much as a pair of gilt spurs! Creeping after him like a hound, thou hast not even the bones!'
'I have all I seek,' said Richard. 'I have his brotherly kindness. I have the opportunity of redeeming my name. Nay, I should even regret any honour that took me from the services I now perform. Simon, didst thou but know his love for our father!'
'Silence, base caitiff!' thundered Simon; 'I know his deeds, and that is enough for me! Look here, mean- spirited as thou wert to be taken with his hypocrisy, I have pity on thee yet. I would spare thee what awaits thee in the camp!'
'For heaven's sake, Simon, dost know of any attack of the Emir? The Princess must at once be conveyed into the town! As thou art a man, a Christian, speak plainly!'
'Foolish lad, the infidels are quiet enough! No peril threatens the camp! Only if thou wilt run thy head into it, thou art like to find it too hot to hold thee!'
'I am afraid of no accusations,' said Richard; 'my Lord knows and trusts me.'
Simon laughed a loud ringing scornful laugh.
'Wilful will to water,' he said. 'Well, thou besotted lad, if it be not too late when thou getst into the hands of Crookbacked Edmund and Red Gilbert, remember the way to Galilee, that is all!'
'I tell thee, Simon,' said Richard, turning round and fully facing him; 'I would rather perish an innocent man by the hands of the Provost Marshal, than darken my soul with thy counsels of blood. O Simon! What thy purpose may be I know not; but canst thou deem it faithfulness to our father, saint as he was, to live this dark wild life, so utterly abhorrent to him?'
'Let those look to that who slew him, and made me such as I am,' returned Simon, turning from him, and gazing steadfastly down into the camp. Suddenly a gleam of fierce exultation lighted up his face, and again facing Richard he exclaimed, 'Yes, go home, tame cringing spaniel, and see whether a Montfort is still in favour below there! See if proud Edward is still ready to meet thy fawning with his scornful patronage! See if the honour of a murdered father has not been left in better hands than thine! And when thou hast had thy lesson, find the way to Ain Gebel, or ask Nick Dustifoot.'
Richard, with a startled exclamation, looked down, but could discern nothing unusual in the camp. The royal banner hung in heavy folds over the Prince's pavilions, and all was evidently still in the same noontide repose, or rather exhaustion, to which the Syrian sun reduced even the hardy active Englishmen. 'What mean you?' he began; but Simon was no longer beside him. He called, but echo alone answered; and all he could do was to throw himself on his horse, and hurry down the mountain side, with a vague presentiment of evil, and a burning desire to warn his lord or share his peril.
He understood Simon's position. Many of the almost inaccessible rocks, where the sons of Anak had built their Cyclopean fortresses, and which had been abodes of almost fabulous beauty and strength in the Herodian days, had been resorted to again by the crusaders, and had served as isolated strongholds whence to annoy the enemy. Frightfully lawless had, in too many instances, been the life there led, more especially by the Levant-born sons of Europeans; and in the universal disorganization of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, that took place in consequence of the disputed rights of Cyprus and Hohenstaufen, most of them had become free from all control. If the garrisons bore the Christian name at all, it chiefly was as an excuse for preying on all around; but too often they were renegades of every variety of nation, drawn together by the vilest passions, commanded by some reckless adventurer, and paying a species of allegiance to any power that either endangered them, or afforded them the hopes of plunder. Bloodthirsty and voluptuous alike, they were viewed with equal terror by the Frank pilgrim, the Syriac villager, the Armenian merchant, and the Saracen hadji-whose ransom and whose spoil enriched their chambers, with all that the licentious tastes of East and West united could desire. There were comparatively few of these nests of iniquity in these latter days of the Crusades, but some still survived; and Richard had seen some of their captains with their followers at the siege of Nazareth, where the atrocities they had committed had been such as to make the English army stand aghast. As a member of such a crew, Simon could hardly fail to find means of attempting that revenge on which it was but too evident that he was still bent; and Richard, as every possible risk rose before him, urged his horse to perilous speed down the steep descent, and chid every obstacle, though in fact the descent which ordinarily occupied two hours, for men who cared for their own necks, was effected by him in a quarter of the time. He came to the entrenched camp. The entrance, where the Prince made so strict a point of keeping a sentinel, was completely unguarded. The foremost tents were empty, but there was a sound as of the murmuring voices of numbers towards the centre of the camp. The next moment he met Hamlyn de Valence riding quickly, and followed by two attendants.
'Hamlyn! a moment!' he gasped. 'Has aught befallen the Prince?'
'You were aware of it, then!' said Hamlyn, checking his horse, and looking him full in the face.
'Answer me, for Heaven's sake! Is all well with the Princes?'
'As well as your house desires-or it may be somewhat better,' said Hamlyn; 'but let me pass. I am on an errand of life or death.'
So saying, Hamlyn dashed forwards; and Richard, in double alarm, made his way to the space in the centre of the camp, where he found himself on the outskirts of a crowd, talking in the various tongues of English, French, and Lingua Franca. 'He lives-the good Princess- -the dogs of infidels-poison-' were the words he caught. He flung himself from his horse, and was about to interrogate the nearest man, when John of Dunster came hurrying towards him from the tents, and threw himself upon him, sobbing with agitation and dismay.
'What is it? Speak, John! The Prince!'
'Oh, if you had but been there! It will not cease bleeding. O Richard, he looks worse than my father when he came home!'
'Let me hear! Where? How is he hurt?'
'In the arm and brow,' said the boy.
'The arm!' said Richard, much relieved.
'Ah, but they say the dagger is poisoned! Stay, Richard, I'll tell you all. Dame Idonea turned me out of the tent, and she will not let any one in. It was thus-even now the Prince was lying on the day- bed in his own outer tent, no one else there save myself. I believe everybody was asleep, I know I was-when Nick Dustifoot called me, and bade me tell the Prince there was a messenger from the Emir of Joppa, asking to see him. So the Prince roused himself up, and bade him come in. He was one of those quick-eyed Moorish-looking infidels, in the big turbans and great goat's hair cloaks; and he went down on his knees, and hit the ground with his forehead, and said Salam aleikum- traitor that he was-and gave the Prince a letter. Well, the Prince muttered something about his head aching so sorely that he could scarce see the writing, and had just put up his hand to shade his eyes from the light, when the
