Gervaise stooped and raised the fallen man’s head from the ground, felt for the chain, pulled up Claudia’s gage, and placed it round his own neck; then he turned to his guide.

“I have to thank you for my life,” he said, holding out his hand to him.  “It would have gone hard with me if that fellow had attacked me from behind.  I had not bargained for three of them.”

“I could not help it, my lord.  It was not until Hassan had stepped down into the boat that I knew he was going to take any one with him; then he suddenly told two of his men to take their places by him, saying to me, as he did so, ’I know not whether this message is a snare; but mind, if I see any signs of treachery, your life at any rate will pay the forfeit.’  I knew not what to do, and indeed could do nothing; but, knowing my lord’s valour, I thought that, even against these odds, you might conquer with such poor aid as I could give you.”

“It was not poor aid at all,” Gervaise said heartily.  “Greatly am I indebted to you, and sorry indeed am I, that I am unable to reward you now for the great service that you have rendered me.”

“Do not trouble about that, my lord.  I am greatly mistaken if I do not find in the sashes of these three villains sufficient to repay me amply for my share in this evening’s work.  And now, my lord, I pray you to linger not a moment.  The gates of the town shut at ten o’clock, and it cannot be long from that hour now.  But first, I pray you, let me bind up your shoulder; your garment is soaked with blood.”

“Fortunately my bernouse will hide that; but it were certainly best to staunch the blood before I start, for it would be hard for me to get at the wound myself.”

The man took one of the sashes of the corsairs, tore it into strips, and bandaged the wound; then with another he made a sling for the arm.  As he took off the sashes a leather bag dropped from each, and there was a chink of metal.  He placed them in his girdle, saying, “I shall have time to count them when I get back.”

Gervaise sheathed his sword, and put on the bernouse, pulling the hood well over his head; then, with a few more words of thanks, started for the gate, leaving the man to search Hassan’s girdle.

The gate was a quarter of a mile distant.  Gervaise passed through with the usual Arabic salutation to the sentry, and with difficulty repressed a shout of exultation as he left Tripoli behind him.

Following the coast road he walked till daylight; then he left it and lay down among the sand hills for five or six hours.  He calculated that no pursuit would be begun until midday.  His absence was not likely to be noticed until the gangs began work in the morning, when an alarm would be given.  The sentries at the gates on the previous evening would be questioned, and when it was found that no one answering to his description had passed out before these were closed, there would be a rigid search throughout