At the village of Bittir, some seven miles from Jerusalem, the embassy dismounted to rest, then again they pressed forward down the valley in the hope of reaching the Zion Gate before the mid-day heat was upon them.  At the end of this valley swelled the shoulder of a hill whence the eye could command its length, and on the crest of that shoulder appeared suddenly a man and a woman, seated on beautiful horses.  The company halted, fearing lest these might herald some attack and that the woman was a man disguised to deceive them.  While they waited thus irresolute, the pair upon the hill turned their horses’ heads, and notwithstanding its steepness, began to gallop towards them very swiftly.  Wulf looked at them curiously and said to Godwin: 

“Now I am put in mind of a certain ride which once we took outside the walls of Beirut.  Almost could I think that yonder Arab was he who sat behind my saddle, and yonder woman she who rode with you, and that those two horses were Flame and Smoke reborn.  Note their whirlwind pace, and strength, and stride.”

Almost as he finished speaking the strangers pulled up their steeds in front of the company, to whom the man bowed his salutations.  Then Godwin saw his face, and knew him at once as the old Arab called Son of the Sand, who had given them the horses Flame and Smoke.

“Sir,” said the Arab to the leader of the embassy, “I have come to ask a favour of yonder knights who travel with you, which I think that they, who have ridden my horses, will not refuse me.  This woman,” and he pointed to the closely-veiled shape of his companion, “is a relative of mine whom I desire to deliver to friends in Jerusalem, but dare not do so myself because the hilldwellers between here and there are hostile to my tribe.  She is of the Christian faith and no spy, but cannot speak your language.  Within the south gate she will be met by her relatives.  I have spoken.”

“Let the knights settle it,” said the commander, shrugging his shoulders impatiently and spurring his horse.

“Surely we will take her,” said Godwin, “though what we shall do with her if her friends are wanting I do not know.  Come, lady, ride between us.”

She turned her head to the Arab as though in question, and he repeated the words, whereon she fell into the place that was shown to her between and a little behind the brethren.

“Perhaps,” went on the Arab to Godwin, “by now you have learned more of our tongue than you knew when we met in past days at Beirut, and rode the mountain side on the good horses Flame and Smoke.  Still, if so, I pray you of your knightly courtesy disturb not this woman with your words, nor ask her to unveil her face, since such is not the custom of her people.  It is but an hour’s journey to the city gate during which you will be troubled with her.  This is the payment that I ask of you for the two good horses which, as I am told, bore you none so ill upon the Narrow Way and across plain and mountain when you fled from Sinan, also on the evil day of Hattin when you unhorsed Salah-ed-din and slew Hassan.”