"Yes, Count of Toulouse, you do well to say Phirous the Armenian will betray Antioch at my bidding, and at none other. Have I put nothing at risk in this Crusade? Have I not played my part at Nicaea, Dorylaeum, the battles around the city? If you have a better device for reducing Yaghi-Sian, make use, and win Antioch yourself! They tell that the lord of Mosul, the great Kerbogha, is not many days' march away, with two hundred thousand men, swept from all Mesopotamia and Persia. Will his coming make our task easier? Time presses; to-morrow? Too late, perhaps. Promise me that if I win Antioch I shall become its lord, and Phirous is ready to yield three towers into our hands."

A deep growl was coming from the other chiefs.

"By Our Lady of Paris and St. Denis," swore Count Hugh of the French blood-royal, angrily, "this Prince of Tarentum shall not beard us thus. Let half the army watch Antioch, the rest go against Kerbogha.

G.o.d willing, we can crush both."

But good Bishop Adhemar interposed.

"To do so were to betray the cause of G.o.d. The host is weakened by war and famine. One-half will never suffice to confront Kerbogha; only the saints will give the whole the victory. We cannot raise the siege, nor endure attack from Kerbogha in our camp. Let us not blame the Lord Bohemond. With G.o.d's will every prince and baron shall win a fair lordship in this Syria; there is room for all."

Silence lasted a moment; then in turn Robert the Norman cried, "By the splendor of G.o.d, my Lord Bohemond, think well if this Phirous has not deceived you!"

"He has not!" attested the southern Norman, hotly.

"Good!" retorted Robert, "he has taken your money and spoken you fair.

So? You cannot deny. Nevertheless, fair princes, I have a man here with a tale to tell."

A dozen voices cried: "What man? What tale? Bring him in!"

Two squires of the Norman Duke led in an Arab, muscular, bright-eyed, decently habited. Robert explained that this man had come to him, professing to be a native Christian, well disposed to the Crusaders, and to have just escaped from the city. Through the interpreter he gave his name as Eybek, and answered all the questions flung at him with marvellous readiness and consistency. "Yes, he had ready access to the circle of Yaghi-Sian, and knew that the city was capable of making a very long defence. The emir was looking for help in a very few days. If the Christians did not raise the siege at once and march away, it would need a miracle from St. George and St. Demetrius to save them from the myriads of Kerbogha." Only once, when the fellow raised his head--for he had a manner of holding it down--Bohemond muttered to G.o.dfrey:--

"Fair Duke, I know not when, yet once--I swear it by the thumb-bone of St. Anthony in my hilt--I have seen his face before." But the Duke replied:--

"How before, my lord? Not on the Crusade, surely. Perhaps among the Arabs of Sicily."

Bohemond shook his head. "Not there." And the examination of Eybek went on.

Then the Christian chiefs pressed him closer, and Hugh of Vermandois demanded: "But what of Phirous? For the Prince of Tarentum tells us this Armenian is high in the favor of Yaghi-Sian, that he is a Christian at heart, having been a renegade, and anxious to return to the only true faith."

"n.o.ble lord," replied the Oriental, through the interpreter, "if the Emir Bohemond believes the tales told him by Phirous, he is less wise than I deemed him. Phirous is in the confidence of Yaghi-Sian day and night."

"_Ha!_" interposed Duke G.o.dfrey, dropping his jaw, and Bohemond's sly face flushed with wrath and incredulity.

"Is it not as I said, fair lords?" cried Robert of Normandy, bringing his fist down upon the long oaken table before him. "What has the Prince of Tarentum been trying to lead toward, save shame and disaster?"

"Insolent!" roared Bohemond, on his feet, with his sword half drawn; "you shall answer to me for this, son of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

Then the Norman Duke's blade started also. But above his angry shout rang the cry of Bishop Adhemar.

"In the name of Christ, sweet sons, keep peace! Sheathe your swords!

You, Prince of Tarentum, rejoice if we learn the deceit of Phirous in time. You, Robert of Normandy, do not triumph; for Bohemond has only sought to advance the victory of Our Lord!"

"Fair lords," commanded G.o.dfrey, sternly, "let us save our swords for the unbelievers, and be quiet while we hearken to this Arabian. In truth he appears a pious and loyal man."

Then all kept silence while Eybek continued to explain that Phirous had been all the time in the counsels of the emir, that there was a plot to induce the Christian chiefs to adventure themselves inside the walls by pretending to betray a tower. Once inside, an ambush was to break out, and the flower of the Christians would be destroyed.

Bohemond raged, and stormed, and tried to browbeat the fellow into contradictions. The Prince spoke Arabic and needed no interpreter; but the other clung to his tale unshaken. Only men noticed that he hung down his head, as if afraid to let the red glare of the cressets fall fairly on his face, and that when there was a stir among the lesser chieftains as a certain newcomer took his seat at the foot of the table he averted his gaze yet more. Presently, baffled and willing to own his hopes blasted, the Tarentine turned away.

"St. Michael blot out that Armenian! He has taken my gold and deceived me. This Arab's story clings together too well not to be true." And the Prince started to leave the tent with a sullen countenance, for he had come to the council with swelling hopes.

"The finger of G.o.d is manifest in this," commented G.o.dfrey, piously.

"Had not Duke Robert brought this man before us we would all, with Bohemond, have stepped into the pit dug by our enemies."

"Verily," cried Adhemar, "this Eybek is a true friend of Christ; his reward shall not fail him."

The Arab bowed low before the bishop and Bouillon, and muttered some flowery compliments in his own tongue.

"Lead him away," commanded Duke Robert to his squires. "In the morning we will question further." As they obeyed, one took a torch from its socket on the tent-pole, and, holding it high, the ruddy light fell full on the face of the Arabian. An instant only, but with that instant came a cry, a shout.

"Hossein!" and Richard Longsword had bounded from his seat as if an arrow dashed from a crossbow. One s.n.a.t.c.h and the torch was in his hand, held close under the Arab's face. The luckless man writhed in a clutch firm as steel. Richard held up the light so that every feature of his victim lay revealed. "The man!" And at the exclamation, and sight of the iron mood written on Longsword's face, Eybek's bronzed face turned ashen pale.

There was silence in the council tent for one long minute. Then Richard was speaking very calmly:--

"Fair lords, we are all deceived. This man is no Christian escaped from Antioch. What he is, those who know the manner of the captivity of Mary de St. Julien, my dear wife, can tell. On the day of the coming of the Egyptian emba.s.sy he was in company with a band of infidel hors.e.m.e.n that I dispersed. The tale he has told you touching Phirous is doubtless a lie, to cast discredit on the Armenian, and bring his scheme to naught, if Yaghi-Sian has not been warned by him already." At Longsword's words a howl of wrath went round the council table.

"Traitor! Dog of h.e.l.l!" Duke Robert was threatening; "he shall know what it is to play false with the heir of William the Norman!"

"_Te Deum laudemus!_" Bishop Adhemar was muttering. "Verily we were all deceived in him, as we believed ourselves deceived in Phirous; yet G.o.d has brought the counsels of the crafty to naught; they have fallen in the pit they had digged for others!"

And Duke G.o.dfrey added: "The Prince of Tarentum will thank you for this, De St. Julien. Let this accursed Arabian be led away and fettered."

But Richard held his prey fast. "Fair lords, this is the boon I crave: give me the life or death of this fellow. By Our Lady I swear he shall not find either road an easy one."

Then twenty voices chorussed, "Yes! yes! away with him!" So Richard led, or rather dragged out his victim. Eybek struggled once while they traversed the long tent-avenues of the sleeping camp,--and only once; for he found that in Longsword's hands he was weaker than a roe in the paws of a lion. The Norman did not speak to the captive, or to any in his train, until outside his own tents. The ever watchful Herbert, standing sentry, hailed him.

"Does Musa sleep?" was all Richard said. And in a moment the Spaniard had glided from the tent, and was crouching by the smouldering camp-fire.

"Ever awake?" asked Longsword, wondering; and the reply was, "Allah will not grant sleep when I think of--" But here the Andalusian's ready tongue failed.

"Look!" Richard drew the captive down by the red coals, and whispered his name. Then Herbert gave a great shout, which brought Sebastian, Theroulde, De Carnac, and more from their tents, and they lit many torches.

Now what befell Eybek that night we need not tell. For the ways of Herbert and De Carnac were not those of soft ladies, who embroider tapestry all day in a rose bower; and the Ismaelian was no sleek serving-page, who cried out when the first thorn bush p.r.i.c.ked him. But before Richard Longsword lay down that night he had heard somewhat of Iftikhar Eddauleh, and of another more important than Iftikhar, which made his sleep the lighter. At dawn he was outside G.o.dfrey's tent awaiting speech with the good Duke. When Bouillon heard what he was seeking, the Norman was instantly admitted; and G.o.dfrey marvelled and rejoiced at sight of the fire and gladness that shone in Longsword's eyes.

"Well met, and ever welcome, fair Baron," was the Lorrainer's greeting; "and will you ride to-day with your men toward Urdeh, and southward to see if you may sweep in a few droves of beeves and a corn convoy?"

"My Lord Duke," quoth Richard, curtly, "I cannot ride to Urdeh to-day or to-morrow."

The Lorrainer gave him a shrewd glance.

"Fair son," said he, half affectionately, "you have been dreaming on what that captive spy threw out. Do not deny."

"I do not deny, my lord. And now I come to ask you this: Will the cause of Christ suffer great hurt if I ride on no more forays for the week to come, or for the next, or, if G.o.d so will,"--he spoke steadily,--"or never?"

The Duke's gaze was more penetrating than before.

"Beware, De St. Julien; you ride to death if you trust the word of that Eybek, even under torture. We only know of him this--the Father of Lies is no smoother perjurer."

Richard answered with a laugh:--