oble as this
gentleman's dog."

"Has he, then, a dog so handsome?" said the King.

"A most perfect creature of Heaven," said the baron, who was an
enthusiast in field-sports--"of the noblest Northern breed--deep in the
chest, strong in the stern--black colour, and brindled on the breast
and legs, not spotted with white, but just shaded into grey--strength to
pull down a bull, swiftness to cote an antelope."

The King laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well, thou hast given him leave to
keep the hound, so there is an end of it. Be not, however, liberal of
your licenses among those knights adventurers who have no prince or
leader to depend upon; they are ungovernable, and leave no game in
Palestine.--But to this piece of learned heathenesse--sayest thou the
Scot met him in the desert?"

"No, my liege; the Scot's tale runs thus. He was dispatched to the old
hermit of Engaddi, of whom men talk so much--"

"'Sdeath and hell!" said Richard, starting up. "By whom dispatched,
and for what? Who dared send any one thither, when our Queen was in the
Convent of Engaddi, upon her pilgrimage for our recovery?"

"The Council of the Crusade sent him, my lord," answered the Baron de
Vaux; "for what purpose, he declined to account to me. I think it is
scarce known in the camp that your royal consort is on a pilgrimage;
and even the princes may not have been aware, as the Queen has been
sequestered from company since your love prohibited her attendance in
case of infection."

"Well, it shall be looked into," said Richard. "So this Scottish
man, this envoy, met with a wandering physician at the grotto of
Engaddi--ha?"

"Not so my liege," replied De Vaux? "but he met, I think, near that
place, with a Saracen Emir with whom he had some MELEE in the way of
proof of valour, and finding him worthy to bear brave men company, they
went together, as errant knights are wont, to the grotto of Engaddi."

Here De Vaux stopped, for he was not one of those who can tell a long
story in a sentence.

"And did they there meet the physician?" demanded the King impatiently.

"No, my liege," replied De Vaux; "but the Saracen, learning your
Majesty's grievous illness, undertook that Saladin should send his own
physician to you, and with many assurances of his eminent skill; and he
came to the grotto accordingly, after the Scottish knight had tarried a
day for him and more. He is attended as if he were a prince, with drums
and atabals, and servants on hor