So he murmured to Heaven above and beat his hands against his brow, praying, ever praying, as he had never prayed before, that wisdom and vision might be given to his soul.

It seemed to Godwin that a sleep fell on him—­at least, his mind grew clouded and confused.  Then it cleared again, slowly, as stirred water clears, till it was bright and still; yet another mind to that which was his servant day by day which never could see or hear those things he saw and heard in that strange hour.  Lo! he heard the spirits pass, whispering as they went; whispering, and, as it seemed to him, weeping also for some great woe which was to be; weeping yonder over Nazareth.  Then like curtains the veils were lifted from his eyes, and as they swung aside he saw further, and yet further.

He saw the king of the Franks in his tent beneath, and about him the council of his captains, among them the fierce-eyed master of the Templars, and a man whom he had seen in Jerusalem where they had been dwelling, and knew for Count Raymond of Tripoli, the lord of Tiberias.  They were reasoning together, till, presently, in a rage, the Master of the Templars drew his sword and dashed it down upon the table.

Another veil was lifted, and lo! he saw the camp of Saladin, the mighty, endless camp, with its ten thousand tents, amongst which the Saracens cried to Allah through all the watches of the night.  He saw the royal pavilion, and in it the Sultan walked to and fro alone—­none of his emirs, not even his son, were with him.  He was lost in thought, and Godwin read his thought.

It was:  “Behind me the Jordan and the Sea of Galilee, into which, if my flanks were turned, I should be driven, I and all my host.  In front the territories of the Franks, where I have no friend; and by Nazareth their great army.  Allah alone can help me.  If they sit still and force me to advance across the desert and attack them before my army melts away, then I am lost.  If they advance upon me round the Mountain Tabor and by the watered land, I may be lost.  But if—­oh! if Allah should make them mad, and they should strike straight across the desert—­then, then they are lost, and the reign of the Cross in Syria is forever at an end.  I will wait here.  I will wait here. . .”

Look! near to the pavilion of Saladin stood another tent, closely guarded, and in it on a cushioned bed lay two women.  One was Rosamund, but she slept sound; and the other was Masouda, and she was waking, for her eyes met his in the darkness.

The last veil was withdrawn, and now Godwin saw a sight at which his soul shivered.  A fire-blackened plain, and above it a frowning mountain, and that mountain thick, thick with dead, thousands and thousands and thousands of dead, among which the hyenas wandered and the night-birds screamed.  He could see their faces, many of them he knew again as those of living men whom he had met in Jerusalem and elsewhere, or had noted with the army.  He could hear also the moanings of the few who were yet alive.