“Say, Peter, are you minded to take a companion for this ride?” asked Masouda; and as she spoke a strange look came into her eyes, a wild look that was new to the brethren. “Surely,” answered Godwin, “but where is the companion?” Her reply was to do as the Arab had done, and seating herself straddle-legged behind Godwin, to clasp him around the middle. “Truly you look a pretty pilgrim now, brother,” said Wulf, laughing aloud, while even the grave Arab smiled and Godwin muttered between his teeth the old proverb “Woman on croup, devil on bow.” But aloud he said, “I am indeed honoured; yet, friend Masouda, if harm should come of this, do not blame me.” “No harm will come—to you, friend Peter; and I have been so long cooped in an inn that I, who am desert-born, wish for a gallop on the mountains with a good horse beneath me and a brave knight in front. Listen, you brethren; you say you do not fear; then leave your bridles loose, and where’er we go and whate’er we meet seek not to check or turn the horses Flame and Smoke. Now, Son of the Sand, we will test these nags of which you sing so loud a song. Away, and let the ride be fast and far!” “On your head be it then, daughter,” answered the old Arab. “Pray Allah that these Franks can sit a horse!” Then his sombre eyes seemed to take fire, and gripping the encircling saddle girth, he uttered some word of command, at which the stallions threw up their heads and began to move at a long, swinging gallop towards the mountains a mile away. At first they went over cultivated land off which the crops had been already cut, taking two or three ditches and a low wall in their stride so smoothly that the brethren felt as though they were seated upon swallows. Then came a space of sandy sward, half a mile or more, where their pace quickened, after which they began to breast the long slope of a hill, picking their way amongst its stones like cats. Ever steeper it grew, till in places it was so sheer that Godwin must clutch the mane of Flame, and Masouda must cling close to Godwin’s middle to save themselves from slipping off behind. Yet, notwithstanding the double weights they bore, those gallant steeds never seemed to falter or to tire. At one spot they plunged through a mountain stream. Godwin noted that not fifty yards to their right this stream fell over a little precipice cutting its way between cliffs which were full eighteen feet from bank to bank, and thought to himself that had they struck it lower down, that ride must have ended. Beyond the stream lay a hundred yards or so of level ground, and above it still steeper country, up which they pushed their way through bushes, till at length they came to the top of the mountain and saw the plain they had left lying two miles or more below them. “These horses climb hills like goats,” Wulf said; “but one thing is certain: we must lead them down.”