“On your head be it then, daughter,” answered the old Arab.  “Pray Allah that these Franks can sit a horse!”

Then his sombre eyes seemed to take fire, and gripping the encircling saddle girth, he uttered some word of command, at which the stallions threw up their heads and began to move at a long, swinging gallop towards the mountains a mile away.  At first they went over cultivated land off which the crops had been already cut, taking two or three ditches and a low wall in their stride so smoothly that the brethren felt as though they were seated upon swallows.  Then came a space of sandy sward, half a mile or more, where their pace quickened, after which they began to breast the long slope of a hill, picking their way amongst its stones like cats.

Ever steeper it grew, till in places it was so sheer that Godwin must clutch the mane of Flame, and Masouda must cling close to Godwin’s middle to save themselves from slipping off behind.  Yet, notwithstanding the double weights they bore, those gallant steeds never seemed to falter or to tire.  At one spot they plunged through a mountain stream.  Godwin noted that not fifty yards to their right this stream fell over a little precipice cutting its way between cliffs which were full eighteen feet from bank to bank, and thought to himself that had they struck it lower down, that ride must have ended.  Beyond the stream lay a hundred yards or so of level ground, and above it still steeper country, up which they pushed their way through bushes, till at length they came to the top of the mountain and saw the plain they had left lying two miles or more below them.

“These horses climb hills like goats,” Wulf said; “but one thing is certain:  we must lead them down.”

Now on the top of the mountain was a stretch of land almost flat and stoneless, over which they cantered forward, gathering speed as the horses recovered their wind till the pace grew fast.  Suddenly the stallions threw themselves on to their haunches and stopped, as well they might, for they were on the verge of a chasm, at whose far foot a river brawled in foam.  For a moment they stood; then, at some word from the Arab, wheeled round, and, bearing to the left, began to gallop back across the tableland, until they approached the edge of the mountainside, where the brethren thought that they would stop.

But Masouda cried to the Arab, and the Arab cried to the horses, and Wulf cried to Godwin in the English tongue, “Show no fear, brother.  Where they go, we can go.”

“Pray God that the girths may hold,” answered Godwin, leaning back against the breast of Masouda behind him.  As he spoke they began to descend the hill, slowly at first, afterwards faster and yet more fast, till they rushed downwards like a whirlwind.