“Are these knights spies?” asked the first. “I suppose so,” was the answer, “silly fellows who think that they can spy upon a nation of spies. They would have done better to keep to fighting, at which, doubtless, they are good enough. What will happen to them?” “What always happens, I suppose—a pleasant time at first; then, if they can be put to no other use, a choice between the faith and the cup. Or, perhaps, as they seem men of rank, they may be imprisoned in the dungeon tower and held to ransom. Yes, yes; it was cruel of Masouda to trick them so, who may be but travellers after all, desiring to see our city.” Just then the curtain was drawn, and through it entered Masouda herself. She was dressed in a white robe that had a dagger worked in red over the left breast, and her long black hair fell upon her shoulders, although it was half hid by the veil, open in front, which hung from her head. Never had they seen her look so beautiful as she seemed thus. “Greetings, brothers Peter and John. Is this fit work for pilgrims?” she said in French, pointing to the long swords which they were sharpening. “Ay,” answered Wulf, as they rose and bowed to her, “for pilgrims to this—holy city.” The women who were cleaning the mail bowed also, for it seemed that here Masouda was a person of importance. She took the hauberks from their hands. “Ill cleansed,” she said sharply. “I think that you girls talk better than you work. Nay, they must serve. Help these lords to don them. Fools, that is the shirt of the grey-eyed knight. Give it me; I will be his squire,” and she snatched the hauberk from their hands, whereat, when her back was turned, they glanced at one another. “Now,” she said, when they were fully armed and had donned their mantles, “you brethren look as pilgrims should. Listen, I have a message for you. The Master”—and she bowed her head, as did the women, guessing of whom she spoke—“will receive you in an hour’s time, till when, if it please you, we can walk in the gardens, which are worth your seeing.” So they went out with her, and as they passed towards the curtain she whispered: “For your lives’ sake, remember all that I have told you—above everything, about the wine and the ring, for if you dream the drink-dream you will be searched. Speak no word to me save of common matters.”