on had been without
meaning, but still continued in deep ire.

"By the sword of the Prophet," he said, "which is the key both of heaven
and hell, he little values his own life, brother, who uses the language
thou dost! Believe me, that were thine hands loose, as thou term'st it,
one single true believer would find them so much to do that thou wouldst
soon wish them fettered again in manacles of iron."

"Sooner would I wish them hewn off by the shoulder-blades!" replied Sir
Kenneth.

"Well. Thy hands are bound at present," said the Saracen, in a more
amicable tone--"bound by thine own gentle sense of courtesy; nor have
I any present purpose of setting them at liberty. We have proved each
other's strength and courage ere now, and we may again meet in a fair
field--and shame befall him who shall be the first to part from his
foeman! But now we are friends, and I look for aid from thee rather than
hard terms or defiances."

"We ARE friends," repeated the knight; and there was a pause, during
which the fiery Saracen paced the tent, like the lion, who, after
violent irritation, is said to take that method of cooling the
distemperature of his blood, ere he stretches himself to repose in his
den. The colder European remained unaltered in posture and aspect; yet
he, doubtless, was also engaged in subduing the angry feelings which had
been so unexpectedly awakened.

"Let us reason of this calmly," said the Saracen. "I am a physician, as
thou knowest, and it is written that he who would have his wound cured
must not shrink when the leech probes and tests it. Seest thou, I am
about to lay my finger on the sore. Thou lovest this kinswoman of the
Melech Ric. Unfold the veil that shrouds thy thoughts--or unfold it not
if thou wilt, for mine eyes see through its coverings."

"I LOVED her," answered Sir Kenneth, after a pause, "as a man loves
Heaven's grace, and sued for her favour like a sinner for Heaven's
pardon."

"And you love her no longer?" said the Saracen.

"Alas," answered Sir Kenneth, "I am no longer worthy to love her. I pray
thee cease this discourse--thy words are poniards to me."

"Pardon me but a moment," continued Ilderim. "When thou, a poor and
obscure soldier, didst so boldly and so highly fix thine affection, tell
me, hadst thou good hope of its issue?"

"Love exists not without hope," replied the knight; "but mine was as
nearly allied to despair as that of the sailor swimming for his life,
who, as he su