“I obey and promise,” said Rosamund. “It is your hour, my lord Hassan.” He bowed deeply and answered: “I am satisfied, and henceforth we are your servants. Princess, the night air is bitter; you cannot travel thus. In which chamber are your garments?” She pointed with her finger. A man took a taper, and, accompanied by two others, entered the place, to return presently with their arms full of all the apparel they could find. Indeed, they even brought her missal and the silver crucifix which hung above her bed and with it her leathern case of trinkets. “Keep out the warmest cloak,” said Hassan, “and tie the rest up in those carpets.” So the rugs that Sir Andrew had bought that day from the merchant Georgios were made to serve as travelling bags to hold his daughter’s gear. Thus even in this hour of haste and danger thought was taken for her comfort. “Princess,” said Hassan, bowing, “my master, your uncle, sent you certain jewels of no mean value. Is it your wish that they should accompany you?” Without lifting her eyes from her dying father’s face, Rosamund answered heavily: “Where they are, there let them bide. What have I to do with jewels?” “Your will is my law,” he said, “and others will be found for you. Princess, all is ready; we wait your pleasure.” “My pleasure? Oh, God, my pleasure?” exclaimed Rosamund in the same drear voice, still staring at her father, who lay before her on the ground. “I cannot help it,” said Hassan, answering the question in her eyes, and there was grief in his tone. “He would not come, he brought it on himself; though in truth I wish that accursed Frank had not struck so shrewdly. If you ask it, we will bear him with you; but, lady, it is idle to hide the truth—he is sped. I have studied medicine, and I know.” “Nay,” said Sir Andrew from the floor, “leave me here. Daughter, we must part awhile. As I stole his child from Ayoub, so Ayoub’s son steals my child from me. Daughter, cling to the faith—that we may meet again.” “To the death,” she answered. “Be comforted,” said Hassan. “Has not Salah-ed-din passed his word that except her own will or that of Allah should change her heart, a Cross-worshipper she may live and die? Lady, for your own sake as well as ours, let this sad farewell be brief. Begone, my servants, taking these dead and wounded with you. There are things it is not fitting that common eyes should see.” They obeyed, and the three of them remained alone together. Then Rosamund knelt down beside her father, and they whispered into each other’s ears. Hassan turned his back upon them, and threw the corner of his cloak over his head and eyes that he might neither see nor hear their voices in this dread and holy hour of parting. It would seem that they found some kind of hope and consolation in it—at least when Rosamund kissed him for the last time, Sir Andrew smiled and said: