of these approaching the ship in silence, perceived also that Lozelle, who stood alone upon the deck, was watching their approach.  Now the first boat made fast and a man in the prow rose up and began to speak to Lozelle in a low voice.  As he did so the hood fell back from his head, and Rosamund saw the face.  It was that of the spy Nicholas!  For a moment she stood amazed, for they had left this man in Cyprus; then understanding came to her and she cried aloud: 

“Treachery!  Prince Hassan, there is treachery.”

As the words left her lips fierce, wild-looking men began to scramble aboard at the low waist of the galley, to which boat after boat made fast.  The Saracens also tumbled from the benches where they slept and ran aft to the deck where Rosamund was, all except one of them who was cut off in the prow of the ship.  Prince Hassan appeared, too, scimitar in hand, clad in his jewelled turban and coat of mail, but without his cloak, shouting orders as he came, while the hired crew of the ship flung themselves upon their knees and begged for mercy.  To him Rosamund cried out that they were betrayed and by Nicholas, whom she had seen.  Then a great man, wearing a white burnous and holding a naked sword in his hand, stepped forward and said in Arabic: 

“Yield you now, for you are outnumbered and your captain is captured,” and he pointed to Lozelle, who was being held by two men while his arms were bound behind him.

“In whose name do you bid me yield?” asked the prince, glaring about him like a lion in a trap.

“In the dread name of Sinan, in the name of the lord Al-je-bal, O servant of Salah-ed-din.”

At these words a groan of fear went up even from the brave Saracens, for now they learned that they had to do with the terrible chief of the Assassins.

“Is there then war between the Sultan and Sinan?” asked Hassan.

“Ay, there is always war.  Moreover, you have one with you,” and he pointed to Rosamund, “who is dear to Salah-ed-din, whom, therefore, my master desires as a hostage.”

“How knew you that?” said Hassan, to gain time while his men formed up.

“How does the lord Sinan know all things?” was the answer; “Come, yield, and perhaps he will show you mercy.”

“Through spies,” hissed Hassan, “such spies as Nicholas, who has come from Cyprus before us, and that Frankish dog who is called a knight,” and he pointed to Lozelle.  “Nay, we yield not, and here, Assassins, you have to do not with poisons and the knife, but with bare swords and brave men.  Ay, and I warn you—­and your lord—­that Salah-ed-din will take vengeance for this deed.”

“Let him try it if he wishes to die, who hitherto has been spared,” answered the tall man quietly.  Then he said to his followers, “Cut them down, all save the women”—­for the Frenchwoman, Marie, was now clinging to the arm of Rosamund—­“and emir Hassan, whom I am commanded to bring living to Masyaf.”