She lifted her head to speak, when suddenly a shadow fell upon them. It was that of the head eunuch, Mesrour, a fat, cunning-faced man, with a cringing air. Low he bowed before them, saying: “Your pardon, O Princess. A messenger has come from Salah-ed-din demanding the presence of these knights at the banquet that he has made ready for his noble prisoners.” “We obey,” said Godwin, and rising they bowed to Rosamund and to Masouda, then turned to go, leaving the star jewel where they had been seated. Very skilfully Mesrour covered it with a fold of his robe, and under shelter of the fold slipped down his hand and grasped it, not knowing that although she seemed to be turned away, Masouda was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Waiting till the brethren reached the tent door, she called out: “Sir Wulf, are you already weary of the enchanted Star of Fortune, or would you bequeath it to us?” Now Wulf came back, saying heavily: “I forgot the thing—who would not at such a time? Where is it? I left it on the cushion.” “Try the hand of Mesrour,” said Masouda, whereat with a very crooked smile the eunuch produced it, and said: “I wished to show you, Sir Knight, that you must be careful with such gems as these, especially in a camp where there are many dishonest persons.” “I thank you,” answered Wulf as he took it; “you have shown me.” Then, followed by the sound of Masouda’s mocking laughter, they left the tent. The Sultan’s messenger led them forward, across ground strewn with the bodies of the murdered Templars and Hospitallers, lying as Godwin had seen them in his dream on the mountain top near Nazareth. Over one of these corpses Godwin stumbled in the gloom, so heavily, that he fell to his knees. He searched the face in the starlight, to find it was that of a knight of the Hospitallers of whom he had made a friend at Jerusalem—a very good and gentle Frenchman, who had abandoned high station and large lands to join the order for the love of Christ and charity. Such was his reward on earth—to be struck down in cold blood, like an ox by its butcher. Then, muttering a prayer for the repose of this knight’s soul, Godwin rose and, filled with horror, followed on to the royal pavilion, wondering why such things were.