“Drink another cup of wine at least,” she said, smiling and filling their mugs with the sweet vintage of Lebanon—­for it seemed to please her to see them eat so heartily of her fare.

They obeyed, mixing the wine with water.  While they drank she asked them suddenly what were their plans, and how long they wished to stay in Beirut.  They answered that for the next few days they had none, as they needed to rest, to see the town and its neighbourhood, and to buy good horses—­a matter in which perhaps she could help them.  Masouda nodded again, and asked whither they wished to ride on horses.

“Out yonder,” said Wulf, waving his hand towards the mountains.  “We desire to look upon the cedars of Lebanon and its great hills before we go on towards Jerusalem.”

“Cedars of Lebanon?” she replied.  “That is scarcely safe for two men alone, for in those mountains are many wild beasts and wilder people who rob and kill.  Moreover, the lord of those mountains has just now a quarrel with the Christians, and would take any whom he found prisoners.”

“How is that lord named?” asked Godwin.

“Sinan,” she answered, and they noted that she looked round quickly as she spoke the word.

“Oh,” he said, “we thought the name was Jebal.”

Now she stared at him with wide, wondering eyes, and replied: 

“He is so called also; but, Sir Pilgrims, what know you of the dread lord Al-je-bal?”

“Only that he lives at a place called Masyaf, which we wish to visit.”

Again she stared.

“Are you mad?” she queried, then checked herself, and clapped her hands for the slave to remove the dishes.  While this was being done they said they would like to walk abroad.

“Good,” answered Masouda, “the man shall accompany you—­nay, it is best that you do not go alone, as you might lose your way.  Also, the place is not always safe for strangers, however humble they may seem,” she added with meaning.  “Would you wish to visit the governor at the castle, where there are a few English knights, also some priests who give advice to pilgrims?”

“We think not,” answered Godwin; “we are not worthy of such high company.  But, lady, why do you look at us so strangely?”

“I am wondering, Sir Peter and Sir John, why you think it worth while to tell lies to a poor widow?  Say, in your own country did you ever hear of certain twin brethren named—­oh, how are they named?—­Sir Godwin and Sir Wulf, of the house of D’Arcy, which has been told of in this land?”

Now Godwin’s jaw dropped, but Wulf laughed out loud, and seeing that they were alone in the room, for the slave had departed, asked in his turn: 

“Surely those twins would be pleased to find themselves so famous.  But how did you chance to hear of them, O widowed hostess of a Syrian inn?”