They were among the Mameluks, where their line was thin; by Heaven! they were through them, and riding straight at the well-known figure of the Sultan, mounted on his white horse with his young son and his emir, the prince Hassan, at his side.

“Saladin for you, Hassan for me,” shouted Wulf.

Then they met, and all the host of Islam cried out in dismay as they saw the Commander of the Faithful and his horse borne to the earth before the last despairing charge of these mad Christian knights.  Another instant, and the Sultan was on his feet again, and a score of scimitars were striking at Godwin.  His horse Flame sank down dying, but he sprang from the saddle, swinging the long sword.  Now Saladin recognized the crest upon his buckler, and cried out: 

“Yield you, Sir Godwin!  You have done well—­yield you!”

But Godwin, who would not yield, answered: 

“When I am dead—­not before.”

Thereupon Saladin spoke a word, and while certain of his Mameluks engaged Godwin in front, keeping out of reach of that red and terrible sword, others crept up behind, and springing on him, seized his arms and dragged him to the ground, where they bound him fast.

Meanwhile Wulf had fared otherwise, for it was his horse Smoke, already stabbed to the vitals, that fell as he plunged on prince Hassan.  Yet he also arose but little hurt, and cried out: 

“Thus, Hassan, old foe and friend, we meet at last in war.  Come, I would pay the debt I owe you for that drugged wine, man to man and sword to sword.”

“Indeed, it is due, Sir Wulf,” answered the prince, laughing.  “Guards, touch not this brave knight who has dared so much to reach me.  Sultan, I ask a boon.  Between Sir Wulf and me there is an ancient quarrel that can only be washed away in blood.  Let it be decided here and now, and let this be your decree—­that if I fall in fair fight, none shall set upon my conqueror, and no vengeance shall be taken for my blood.”

“Good,” said Saladin.  “Then Sir Wulf shall be my prisoner and no more, as his brother is already.  I owe it to the men who saved my life when we were friends.  Give the Frank to drink that the fight may be fair.”

So they gave Wulf a cup of which he drank, and when he had done it was handed to Godwin.  For even the Mameluks knew and loved these brethren who had been their officers, and praised the fierce charge that they had dared to make alone.

Hassan sprang to the ground, saying: 

“Your horse is dead, Sir Wulf, so we must fight afoot.”

“Generous as ever,” laughed Wulf.  “Even the poisoned wine was a gift!”

“If so, for the last time, I fear me,” answered Hassan with a smile.