"Utmost security of life, person and property to those who are aiding our enterprise." "It is well," said the voice. "So much I can vouch for, my lord. Is that all?" "All--as far as conditions go," returned the third speaker. "It is not all, by St. Demetrius," cried Basil. "I claim the office I am holding with all its privileges and appurtenances, to give no account to any one of the past or the future." "What of the present?" interposed the voice. "You never could imagine that I perilled my neck only to secure your lord in his former possessions, which he so cowardly abandoned," said Basil contemptuously. "I claim the hand of the Lady Theodora--" "Theodora?" cried the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany, turning fiercely upon the speaker. "Surely you are mad, my lord, to imagine that the Lord Ugo would peril his reign with the presence of this woman within the same walls that witnessed the regime of her sister--" "Mind your own business, my lord," interposed Basil. "What the man thinks who fled from Castel San Angelo at the first cry of revolt, the man who slunk away like a thief in the night, is nothing to me. We make the conditions. It is for him to accept or reject them, as he sees fit." A rasping voice, speaking a villainous jargon, made itself heard at this juncture. "What of my Saracens, mighty lord?" Hassan Abdullah, for no lesser than the great Mahometan chieftain was the speaker, turned to the Grand Chamberlain. "I, too, am desirous of sparing the blood of my soldiers and, insofar as lies within my power, that of the Nazarenes also. For it is written in the book: Slavery for infidels--but death only for apostates." "Our compact is sealed beyond recall," Basil made reply. "Then you will deliver the woman into my hands?" There was a pause. "She shall be delivered into the hands of Hassan Abdullah! And he will sail away with his white-plumed bird--the fairest flower of the North--and the ransom of a city." "Yet I do not know the lady's name," said the Saracen. "This I should know--else how may she heed my call?" "Those who love her call her Hellayne." At the name Tristan started so violently that the monk caught his arm in a grip of steel. "Silence--if you value your life," Odo enjoined. "When and where is she to be delivered into my hands?" Hassan Abdullah continued. "The place will be made known to you, my lord," Basil replied, "when the Emperor's Tomb hails its new master." "Here is an infernal plot," Odo whispered into Tristan's ear, "spawned up by the very Prince of Darkness." "What can we do?" came back the almost soundless reply. "Hellayne to be delivered over to this infidel dog! Nay, do not restrain me, Father--" "There are six to two of us," Odo interposed. "Silence! Some one speaks." It was the voice of the envoy of Ugo of Tuscany. "Although it seems like a taunt, to fling into the face of my lord the sister of the woman who was the cause of his defeat--"