“But,” he added, “she has spoken—why, I know not—and I must obey. Well, at least they are gallant men and worthy of such steeds. Half I hoped that you and the three of us and my niece Masouda, the woman with the secret face and eyes that have looked on fear, might perish in the cleft of the stream; but it was not willed of Allah. So farewell, Flame, and farewell, Smoke, children of the desert, who are swifter than arrows, for never more shall I ride you in battle. Well, at least I have others of your matchless blood.” Then Godwin touched Wulf on the shoulder, and they crept away from the stable without the Arab knowing that they had been there, for it seemed shameful to pry upon his grief. When they reached their room again Godwin asked Wulf: “Why does this man sell us those noble steeds?” “Because his niece Masouda has bid him so to do,” he answered. “And why has she bidden him?” “Ah!” replied Wulf. “He called her ‘the woman with the secret face and eyes that have looked on fear,’ didn’t he? Well, for reasons that have to do with his family perhaps, or with her secrets, or us, with whom she plays some game of which we know neither the beginning nor the end. But, Brother Godwin, you are wiser than I. Why do you ask me these riddles? For my part, I do not wish to trouble my head about them. All I know is that the game is a brave one, and I mean to go through with it, especially as I believe that this playing will lead us to Rosamund.” “May it lead us nowhere worse,” answered Godwin with something like a groan, for he remembered that dream of his which he dreamed in mid-air between the edges of black rock with the bubbling foam beneath. But to Wulf he said nothing of this dream. When the sun was fully up they prepared to go out again, taking with them the gold to pay the Arab; but on opening the door of their room they met Masouda, apparently about to knock upon it. “Whither go you, friends Peter and John, and so early?” she asked, looking at them with a smile upon her beautiful face that was so thrilling and seemed to hide so much mystery. Godwin thought to himself that it was like another smile, that on the face of the woman-headed, stone sphinx which they had seen set up in the market place of Beirut. “To visit our horses and pay your uncle, the Arab, his money,” answered Wulf. “Indeed! I thought I saw you do the first an hour ago, and as for the second, it is useless; Son of the Sand has gone.” “Gone! With the horses?” “Nay, he has left them behind.” “Did you pay him, then, lady?” asked Godwin. It was easy to see that Masouda was pleased at this courteous word, for her voice, which in general seemed a little hard, softened as she answered, for the first time giving him his own title.