“Hush!” said Wulf, for just then some merchants, and with them a number of pilgrims, their travel-worn faces full of rapture at the thought that the terrors of the voyage were done, and that they were about to set foot upon the ground their Lord had trodden, crowded forward to the bow to obtain their first view of it, and there burst into prayers and songs of thanksgiving.  Indeed, one of these men—­a trader known as Thomas of Ipswich—­was, they found, standing close to them, and seemed as though he listened to their talk.

The brethren mingled with them while this same Thomas of Ipswich, who had visited the place before, or so it seemed, pointed out the beauties of the city, of the fertile country by which it was surrounded, and of the distant cedar-clad mountains where, as he said, Hiram, King of Tyre, had cut the timber for Solomon’s Temple.

“Have you been on them?” asked Wulf.

“Ay, following my business,” he answered, “so far.”  And he showed them a great snow-capped peak to the north.  “Few ever go further.”

“Why not?” asked Godwin.

“Because there begins the territory of the Sheik Al-je-bal”—­and he looked at them meaningly—­“whom,” he added, “neither Christian nor Saracen visit without an invitation, which is seldom given.”

Again they inquired why not.

“Because,” answered the trader, still watching them, “most men love their lives, and that man is the lord of death and magic.  Strange things are to be seen in his castle, and about it lie wonderful gardens inhabited by lovely women that are evil spirits, who bring the souls of men to ruin.  Also, this Old Man of the Mountain is a great murderer, of whom even all the princes of the East are terrified, for he speaks a word to his fedais—­or servants—­who are initiated, and they go forth and bring to death any whom he hates.  Young men, I like you well, and I say to you, be warned.  In this Syria there are many wonders to be seen; leave those of Masyaf and its fearful lord alone if you desire to look again upon—­the towers of Lincoln.”

“Fear not; we will,” answered Godwin, “who come to seek holy places—­not haunts of devils.”

“Of course we will,” added Wulf.  “Still, that country must be worth travelling in.”

Then boats came out to greet them from the shore—­for at that time Beirut was in the hands of the Franks—­and in the shouting and confusion which followed they saw no more of this merchant Thomas.  Nor did they seek him out again, since they thought it unwise to show themselves too curious about the Sheik Al-je-bal.  Indeed, it would have been useless, since that trader was ashore two full hours before they were suffered to leave the ship, from which he departed alone in a private boat.

At length they stood in the motley Eastern crowd upon the quay, wondering where they could find an inn that was quiet and of cheap charges, since they did not wish to be considered persons of wealth or importance.  As they lingered here, somewhat bewildered, a tall, veiled woman whom they had noted watching them, drew near, accompanied by a porter, who led a donkey.  This man, without more ado, seized their baggage, and helped by other porters began to fasten it upon the back of the donkey with great rapidity, and when they would have forbidden him, pointed to the veiled woman.