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Updated: June 4, 2025
The descent was almost done, and not a mile behind them the white-robed Assassins streamed endlessly. Godwin plied his spurs and Masouda her whip, although with little hope, for they knew that the end was near. Down the last declivity they rushed, till suddenly, as they reached its foot, Masouda's horse reeled, stopped, and sank to the ground, while Godwin's pulled up beside it.
Then he turned to speak to the secretaries, and Godwin, who was noting all, saw Masouda's dark eyes follow him and in them a very strange light. "Good," they seemed to say; "as you have written, so shall you read." That same afternoon they started for Damascus, a great army of horsemen. In its midst, guarded by a thousand spears, Rosamund was borne in a litter.
The guard of eight Mameluks had left them, to be met by their relief in the courtyard, according to custom, but no relief had as yet appeared in the ante-chamber. "It would seem that Masouda's tale is true," said Godwin, and going to the door he locked it, and hid the key beneath a cushion.
"Doubtless in the beginning because I was the agent of Sinan, charged to betray such knights as you are into his hands, and afterwards because my heart was filled with pity and love for the lady Rosamund." Again the lightning flashed, and this time that strange look had spread from Masouda's face to the face of Godwin.
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