Well, at least he would give himself up to Saladin, who must think ill of them by whom he had dealt well, and tell him that of this plot they had no knowledge.Indeed, to him he would go first, if it were but to beg forgiveness for Masouda should she still be in his hands.Then--for he could not hope to be believed or pardoned a second time--then let death come, and he would welcome it, who greatly longed for peace.
It was evening, and Godwin's tired horse stumbled slowly through the great camp of the Saracens without the walls of fallen Ascalon.None hindered him, for having been so long a prisoner he was known by many, while others thought that he was but one of the surrendered.Christian knights.So he came to the great house where Saladin lodged, and bade the guard take his name to the Sultan, saying that he craved audience of him.Presently he was admitted, and found Saladin seated in council among his ministers.
"Sir Godwin," he said sternly, "seeing how you have dealt by me, what brings you back into my camp? I gave you brethren your lives, and you have robbed me of one whom I would not lose.""We did not rob you, sire," answered Godwin, "who knew nothing of this plot.Nevertheless, as I was sure that you would think thus, I am come from Jerusalem, leaving the princess and my brother there, to tell the truth and to surrender myself to you, that Imay bear in her place any punishment which you think fit to inflict upon the woman Masouda.""Why should you bear it?" asked Saladin.
"Because, Sultan," answered Godwin sadly, and with bent head, "whatever she did, she did for love of me, though without my knowledge.Tell me, is she still here, or has she fled?""She is still here," answered Saladin shortly."Would you wish to see her?"Godwin breathed a sigh of relief.At least, Masouda still lived, and the terror that had struck him in the night was but an evil dream born of his own fears and sufferings.
"I do," he answered, "once, if no more.I have words to say to her.""Doubtless she will be glad to learn how her plot prospered,"said Saladin, with a grim smile."In truth it was well laid and boldly executed."Calling to one of his council, that same old imaum who had planned the casting of the lots, the Sultan spoke with him aside.
Then he said:
"Let this knight be led to the woman Masouda.Tomorrow we will judge him."Taking a silver lamp from the wall, the imaum beckoned to Godwin, who bowed to the Sultan and followed.As he passed wearily through the throng in the audience room, it seemed to Godwin that the emirs and captains gathered there looked at him with pity in their eyes.So strong was this feeling in him that he halted in his walk, and asked:
"Tell me, lord, do I go to my death?"
"All of us go thither," answered Saladin in the silence, "but Allah has not written that death is yours to-night."They passed down long passages; they came to a door which the imaum, who hobbled in front, unlocked.
"She is under ward then?" said Godwin.
"Ay," was the answer, "under ward.Enter," and he handed him the lamp."I remain without.""Perchance she sleeps, and I shall disturb her," said Godwin, as he hesitated upon the threshold.
"Did you not say she loved you? Then doubtless, even if she sleeps, she, who has dwelt at Masyaf will not take your visit ill, who have ridden so far to find her," said the imaum with a sneering laugh."Enter, I say."So Godwin took the lamp and went in, and the door was shut behind him.Surely the place was familiar to him? He knew that arched roof and these rough, stone walls.Why, it was here that he had been brought to die, and through that very door the false Rosamund had come to bid him farewell, who now returned to greet her in this same darksome den.Well, it was empty--doubtless she would soon come, and he waited, looking at the door.It did not stir; he heard no footsteps; nothing broke that utter silence.He turned again and stared about him.Something glinted on the ground yonder, towards the end of the vault, just where he had knelt before the executioner.A shape lay there; doubtless it was Masouda, imprisoned and asleep.
"Masouda," he said, and the sounding echoes from the arched walls answered back, "Masouda!"He must awaken her; there was no choice.Yes, it was she, asleep, and she still wore the royal robes of Rosamund, and a clasp of Rosamund's still glittered on her breast.
How sound Masouda slept! Would she never wake? He knelt down beside her and put out his hand to lift the long hair that hid her face.
Now it touched her, and lo! the head fell over.
Then, with horror in his heart, Godwin held down the lamp and looked.Oh! those robes were red, and those lips were ashen.It was Masouda, whose spirit had passed him in the desert; Masouda, slain by the headsman's sword! This was the evil jest that had been played upon him, and thus--thus they met again.
Godwin rose to his feet and stood over her still shape as a man stands in a dream, while words broke from his lips and a fountain in his heart was unsealed.
"Masouda," he whispered, "I know now that I love you and you only, henceforth and forever, O woman with a royal heart.Wait for me, Masouda, wherever you may dwell."While the whispered words left his lips, it seemed to Godwin that once more, as when he rode with Wulf from Ascalon, the strange wind blew about his brow, bringing with it the presence of Masouda, and that once more the unearthly peace sank into his soul.
Then all was past and over, and he turned to see the old imaum standing at his side.
"Did I not tell you that you would find her sleeping?" he said, with his bitter, chuckling laugh."Call on her, Sir Knight; call on her! Love, they say, can bridge great gulfs--even that between severed neck and bosom."With the silver lamp in his hand Godwin smote, and the man went down like a felled ox, leaving him once more in silence and in darkness.
For a moment Godwin stood thus, till his brain was filled with fire, and he too fell--fell across the corpse of Masouda, and there lay still.
