“Were I not a Christian would I visit this foggy land of yours to trade in wine—a liquor forbidden to the Moslems?” answered the man, drawing aside the folds of his shawl and revealing a silver crucifix upon his broad breast. “I am a merchant of Famagusta in Cyprus, Georgios by name, and of the Greek Church which you Westerners hold to be heretical. But what do you think of that wine, holy Abbot?” The Prior smacked his lips. “Friend Georgios, it is indeed a drink for the saints,” he answered. “Ay, and has been a drink for sinners ere now—for this is the very tipple that Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, drank with her Roman lover Antony, of whom you, being a learned man, may have heard. And you, Sir Knight, what say you of the black stuff—‘Mavro,’ we call it—not the common, but that which has been twenty years in cask?” “I have tasted worse,” said Wulf, holding out his horn to be filled again. “Ay, and will never taste better if you live as long as the Wandering Jew. Well, sirs, may I take your orders? If you are wise you will make them large, since no such chance is likely to come your way again, and that wine, yellow or red, will keep a century.” Then the chaffering began, and it was long and keen. Indeed, at one time they nearly left the place without purchasing, but the merchant Georgios called them back and offered to come to their terms if they would take double the quantity, so as to make up a cartload between them, which he said he would deliver before Christmas Day. To this they consented at length, and departed homewards made happy by the gifts with which the chapman clinched his bargain, after the Eastern fashion. To the Prior he gave a roll of worked silk to be used as an edging to an altar cloth or banner, and to Wulf a dagger handle, quaintly carved in olive wood to the fashion of a rampant lion. Wulf thanked him, and then asked him with a somewhat shamed face if he had more embroidery for sale, whereat the Prior smiled. The quick-eyed Cypriote saw the smile, and inquired if it might be needed for a lady’s wear, at which some neighbours present in the room laughed outright. “Do not laugh at me, gentlemen,” said the Eastern; “for how can I, a stranger, know this young knight’s affairs, and whether he has mother, or sisters, or wife, or lover? Well here are broideries fit for any of them.” Then bidding his servant bring a bale, he opened it, and began to show his goods, which, indeed, were very beautiful. In the end Wulf purchased a veil of gauze-like silk worked with golden stars as a Christmas gift for Rosamund. Afterwards, remembering that even in such a matter he must take no advantage of his brother, he added to it a tunic broidered with gold and silver flowers such as he had never seen—for they were Eastern tulips and anemones, which Godwin would give her also if he wished.