“Ay,” replied Wulf, “and it is well enough while it lasts.”

They rose and dressed themselves, putting on clean garments and their best cloaks, that they had brought with them on the mules, after which the veiled women entered the room with breakfast, and they ate.  When this was finished, having nothing else to do, they made signs to one of the women that they wished for cloths wherewith to clean their armour, for, as they had been bidden, they pretended to understand no word of Arabic.  She nodded, and presently returned with a companion carrying leathers and paste in a jar.  Nor did they leave them, but, sitting upon the ground, whether the brethren willed it or no, took the shirts of mail and rubbed them till they shone like silver, while Godwin and Wulf polished their helms, spurs, and bucklers, cleansing their swords and daggers also, and sharpening them with a stone which they carried for that purpose.

Now as these women worked, they began to talk to each other in a low voice, and some of their talk, though not all, the brethren understood.

“A handsome pair truly,” said the first.  “We should be fortunate if we had such men for husbands, although they are Franks and infidels.”

“Ay,” answered the other; “and from their likeness they must be twins.  Now which of them would you choose?”

Then for a long while they discussed them, comparing them feature by feature and limb by limb, until the brethren felt their faces grow red beneath the sunburn and scrubbed furiously at their armour to show a reason for it.  At length one of the women said: 

“It was cruel of the lady Masouda to bring these birds into the Master’s net.  She might have warned them.”

“Masouda was ever cruel,” answered the other, “who hates all men, which is unnatural.  Yet I think if she loved a man she would love him well, and perhaps that might be worse for him than her hate.”

“Are these knights spies?” asked the first.

“I suppose so,” was the answer, “silly fellows who think that they can spy upon a nation of spies.  They would have done better to keep to fighting, at which, doubtless, they are good enough.  What will happen to them?”

“What always happens, I suppose—­a pleasant time at first; then, if they can be put to no other use, a choice between the faith and the cup.  Or, perhaps, as they seem men of rank, they may be imprisoned in the dungeon tower and held to ransom.  Yes, yes; it was cruel of Masouda to trick them so, who may be but travellers after all, desiring to see our city.”

Just then the curtain was drawn, and through it entered Masouda herself.  She was dressed in a white robe that had a dagger worked in red over the left breast, and her long black hair fell upon her shoulders, although it was half hid by the veil, open in front, which hung from her head.  Never had they seen her look so beautiful as she seemed thus.

“Greetings, brothers Peter and John.  Is this fit work for pilgrims?” she said in French, pointing to the long swords which they were sharpening.