Then rage took hold of Godwin and he answered him: 

“Were it not for your plight, here and now I would thrust those words down your throat, as, should we both live, I yet shall hope to do.  You call us traitors.  Is it the work of traitors to have charged alone through all this host until our horses died beneath us?”—­he pointed to where Smoke and Flame lay with glazing eyes—­“to have unhorsed Saladin and to have slain this prince in single combat?” and he turned to the body of the emir Hassan, which his servants were carrying away.

“You speak of me as wizard and murderer,” he went on, “because some angel brought me a vision which, had you believed it, Templar, would have saved tens of thousands from a bloody death, the Christian kingdom from destruction, and yonder holy thing from mockery,” and with a shudder he glanced at the Rood which its captors had set up upon a rock not far away with a dead knight tied to its black arms.  “You, Sir Templar, are the murderer who by your madness and ambition have brought ruin on the cause of Christ, as was foretold by the count Raymond.”

“That other traitor who also has escaped,” snarled the Master.

Then Saracen guards dragged him away, and they were parted.

By now the pavilion was up and Saladin entered it, saying: 

“Bring before me the king of the Franks and prince Arnat, he who is called Reginald of Chatillon.”

Then a thought struck him, and he called to Godwin and Wulf, saying: 

“Sir Knights, you know our tongue; give up your swords to the officer—­they shall be returned to you—­and come, be my interpreters.”

So the brethren followed him into the tent, where presently were brought the wretched king and the grey-haired Reginald de Chatillon, and with them a few other great knights who, even in the midst of their misery, stared at Godwin and Wulf in wonderment.  Saladin read the look, and explained lest their presence should be misunderstood: 

“King and nobles, be not mistaken.  These knights are my prisoners, as you are, and none have shown themselves braver to-day, or done me and mine more damage.  Indeed, had it not been for my guards, within the hour I should have fallen beneath the sword of Sir Godwin.  But as they know Arabic, I have asked them to render my words into your tongue.  Do you accept them as interpreters?  If not, others must be found.”

When they had translated this, the king said that he accepted them, adding to Godwin: 

“Would that I had also accepted you two nights gone as an interpreter of the will of Heaven!”

The Sultan bade his captains be seated, and seeing their terrible thirst, commanded slaves to bring a great bowl of sherbet made of rose-water cooled with snow, and with his own hand gave it to king Guy.  He drank in great gulps, then passed the bowl to Reginald de Chatillon, whereon Saladin cried out to Godwin: 

“Say to the king it is he and not I who gives this man to drink.  There is no bond of salt between me and the prince Arnat.”