shout
from those behind, told them that they were seen.

"On!" said Masouda. "The race will be close." So they began to
gallop their best.

Two miles were done, but although that behind was far off, the
great cloud of dust to their right grew ever nearer till it
seemed as though it must reach the mouth of the mountain pass
before them. Then Godwin spoke:

"Wulf and Rosamund ride on. Your horses are swift and can outpace
them. At the crest of the mountain pass wait a while to breathe
the beasts, and see if we come. If not, ride on again, and God be
with you."

"Ay," said Masouda, "ride and head for the Emesa bridge--it can
be seen from far--and there yield yourselves to the officers of
Salah-ed-din."

They hung back, but in a stern voice Godwin repeated:

"Ride, I command you both."

"For Rosamund's sake, so be it," answered Wulf.

Then he called to Smoke and Flame, and they stretched
themselves out upon the sand and passed thence swifter than
swallows. Soon Godwin and Masouda, toiling behind, saw them enter
the mouth of the pass.

"Good," she said. "Except those of their own breed, there are no
horses in Syria that can catch those two. They will come to
Emesa, have no fear."

"Who was the man who brought them to us?" asked Godwin, as they
galloped side by side, their eyes fixed upon the ever-nearing
cloud of dust, in which the spear points sparkled.

"My father's brother--my uncle, as I called him," she answered.
"He is a sheik of the desert, who owns the ancient breed that
cannot be bought for gold."

"Then you are not of the Assassins, Masouda?"

"No; I may tell you, now that the end seems near. My father was
an Arab, my mother a noble Frank, a French woman, whom he found
starving in the desert after a fight, and took to his tent and
made his wife. The Assassins fell upon us and killed him and her,
and captured me as a child of twelve. Afterwards, when I grew
older, being beautiful in those days, I was taken to the harem of
Sinan, and, although in secret I had been bred up a Christian by
my mother, they swore me of his accursed faith. Now you will
understand why I hate him so sorely who murdered my father and my
mother, and made me what I am; why I hold myself so vile also.
Yes, I have been forced to serve as his spy or be killed, who,
although he believed me his faithful slave, desired first to be
avenged upon him."

"I do not hold you vile," panted Godwin, as he spurred his
labouring steed. "