“What!” he shouted, glowering at them. “Am I to fight one against two? Is this your chivalry?” “Nay, nay, Sir Traitor,” answered Wulf. “Nay, nay betrayer of Christian maids to the power of the heathen dog; you have fought Godwin, now it is the turn of Wulf. Kill Wulf and Godwin remains. Kill Godwin and God remains. Knave, you look your last upon the moon.” Lozelle heard, and seemed to go mad with rage, or fear, or both. “Lord Sinan,” he shouted in Arabic, “this is murder. Am I, who have done you so much service, to be butchered for your pleasure by the lovers of that woman, whom you would honour with the name of wife?” Sinan heard, and stared at him with dull, angry eyes. “Ay, you may stare,” went on the maddened Lozelle, “but it is true—they are her lovers, not her brothers. Would men take so much pains for a sister’s sake, think you? Would they swim into this net of yours for a sister’s sake?” Sinan held up his hand for silence. “Let the lots be cast,” he said, “for whatever these men are, this fight must go on, and it shall be fair.” So a _daï_, standing by himself, cast lots upon the ground, and having read them, announced that Lozelle must run the first course from the further side of the bridge. Then one took his bridle to lead him across. As he passed the brethren he grinned in their faces and said: “At least this is sure, you also look your last upon the moon. I am avenged already. The bait that hooked me is a meal for yonder pike, and he will kill you both before her eyes to whet his appetite.” But the brethren answered nothing. The black horse of Lozelle grew dim in the distance of the moonlit bridge, and vanished beneath the farther archway that led to the outer city. Then a herald cried, Masouda translating his words, which another herald echoed from beyond the gulf. “Thrice will the trumpets blow. At the third blast of the trumpets the knights shall charge and meet in the centre of the bridge. Thenceforward they may fight as it pleases them, ahorse, or afoot, with lance, with sword, or with dagger, but to the vanquished no mercy will be shown. If he be brought living from the bridge, living he shall be cast into the gulf. Hear the decree of the Al-je-bal!” Then Wulf’s horse was led forward to the entrance of the bridge, and from the further side was led forward the horse of Lozelle. “Good luck, brother,” said Godwin, as he passed him. “Would that I rode this course instead of you.” “Your turn may come, brother,” answered the grim Wulf, as he set his lance in rest. Now from some neighbouring tower pealed out the first long blast of trumpets, and dead silence fell on all the multitude. Grooms came forward to look to girth and bridle and stirrup strap, but Wulf waved them back. “I mind my own harness,” he said. The second blast blew, and he loosened the great sword in its scabbard, that sword which had flamed in his forbear’s hand upon the turrets of Jerusalem.