“We are satisfied,” said Godwin, “especially,” he added, with a bow and removing the cap from his head, “as, having brought us here without leave asked, we are sure that you will treat us who are strangers kindly.”

“As kindly as you wish—­I mean as you can pay for,” said the woman.  “Nay, I will settle with the porter; he would cheat you.”

Then followed a wrangle five minutes long between this curious, handsome, still-faced woman and the porter who, after the eastern fashion, lashed himself into a frenzy over the sum she offered, and at length began to call her by ill names.

She stood looking at him quite unmoved, although Godwin, who understood all, but pretended to understand nothing, wondered at her patience.  Presently, however, in a perfect foam of passion he said, or rather spat out:  “No wonder, Masouda the Spy, that after hiring me to do your evil work, you take the part of these Christian dogs against a true believer, you child of Al-je-bal!”

Instantly the woman seemed to stiffen like a snake about to strike.

“Who is he?” she said coldly.  “Do you mean the lord—­who kills?” And she looked at him—­a terrible look.

At that glance all the anger seemed to go out of the man.

“Your pardon, widow Masouda,” he said.  “I forgot that you are a Christian, and naturally side with Christians.  The money will not pay for the wear of my ass’s hoofs, but give it me, and let me go to pilgrims who will reward me better.”

She gave him the sum, adding in her quiet voice:  “Go; and if you love life, keep better watch over your words.”

Then the porter went, and now so humble was his mien that in his dirty turban and long, tattered robe he looked, Wulf thought, more like a bundle of rags than a man mounted on the donkey’s back.  Also it came into his mind that their strange hostess had powers not possessed by innkeepers in England.  When she had watched him through the gate, Masouda turned to them and said in French: 

“Forgive me, but here in Beirut these Saracen porters are extortionate, especially towards us Christians.  He was deceived by your appearance.  He thought that you were knights, not simple pilgrims as you avow yourselves, who happen to be dressed and armed like knights beneath your gambesons; and,” she added, fixing her eyes upon the line of white hair on Godwin’s head where the sword had struck him in the fray on Death Creek quay, “show the wounds of knights, though it is true that a man might come by such in any brawl in a tavern.  Well, you are to pay me a good price, and you shall have my best room while it pleases you to honour me with your company.  Ah! your baggage.  You do not wish to leave it.  Slave, come here.”

With startling suddenness the Nubian who had led away the mule appeared, and took up some of the packages.  Then she led them down a passage into a large, sparsely-furnished room with high windows, in which were two beds laid on the cement floor, and asked them if it pleased them.