On the cushions, richly embroidered in dainty Eastern colouring, lay Mabel de Hundberg, with dry lips half opened and panting, too weary to move, yet listening all intent. Another moment, and in chamois leather coat, his helmet in hand, entered her brother from the turret stair, and threw himself down hopelessly, answering her gesture. "No, no, of course no. The dust was only from another swarm of those hateful Saracens. I knew it would be so. Pah! it has made my tongue more like old boot leather than ever. Have no more drops been squeezed from the well? It's time the cup was filled!" "It was Roger's turn. Sigbert said he should have the next," said Mabel. Walter uttered an imprecation upon Roger, and a still stronger one on Sigbert's meddling. But instantly the cry was, "Where is Sigbert?" Walter even took the trouble to shout up and down the stair for Sigbert, and to demand hotly of the weary, dejected men-at-arms where Sigbert was; but no one could tell. "Gone over to the enemy, the old traitor," said Walter, again dropping on the divan. "Never! Sigbert is no traitor," returned his sister. "He is an English churl, and all churls are traitors," responded Walter. The old nurse, who was fitfully fanning Mabel with a dried palm- leaf, made a growl of utter dissent, and Mabel exclaimed, "None was ever so faithful as good old Sigbert." It was a promising quarrel, but their lips were too dry to keep it up for more than a snarl or two. Walter cast himself down, and bade old Tata fan him; why should Mabel have it all to herself? Then sounds of wrangling were heard below, and Walter roused himself to go down and interfere. The men were disputing over some miserable dregs of wine at the bottom of a skin. Walter shouted to call them to order, but they paid little heed. "Do not meddle and make, young sir," said a low-browed, swarthy fellow. "There's plenty of cool drink of the right sort out there." "Traitor!" cried Walter; "better die than yield." "If one have no mind for dying like an old crab in a rock," said the man. "They would think nought of making an end of us out there," said another. "I'd as lief be choked at once by a cord as by thirst," was the answer. "That you are like to be, if you talk such treason," threatened Walter. "Seize him, Richard--Martin." Richard and Martin, however, hung back, one muttering that Gil had done nothing, and the other that he might be in the right of it; and when Walter burst out in angry threats he was answered in a gruff voice that he had better take care what he said, "There was no standing not only wasting with thirst and hunger, but besides being blustered at by a hot-headed lad, that scarce knew a hauberk from a helmet."