princess and himself a Nazarene-Christian. The riders of the advance had moved on, but the main body was preparing to camp by the well. The camels of the baggage train were kneeling.
To refuse Subai Ghazi would be to anger him, and to allow him to look once upon the face of the girl would make him eager to possess her. Swiftly-there was need of swift thought-Sir Bruce fashioned in his mind a frail defense of words.
"Koudsarma," he responded gravely-"Lord, thy power is great indeed. There is a command about thine, unutterably great. It is written that the face of a woman must be veiled. Are ye kin to her, to lift the veil?"
The Tatar struck his fist upon his mailed thigh. "What words are these words? By Allah, will thou say she is thine-thy woman?"
Sir Bruce, striving for time in which to think and to divert the attention of the Tatars, had invoked one of the oldest laws in Islam. He looked at the slender figure, so bravely erect, that had drawn close to his side.
"Aye so," he said, and his voice rang true and certain. He knew, in that instant when death was so close, that he loved Marie of Rohan.
He stretched out his hand and placed it upon her shoulder, and when he did this the thing that he most dreaded happened. At his touch Marie turned quickly to meet his eyes, and her hands-that had clasped the edges of the hood about her throat-slipped down to his fingers and gripped them. The velvet hood fell back.
Subai Ghazi leaned forward with an exclamation of triumph.
"What is it?" she whispered, for she had understood no word of their talk.
The flicker of a smile passed over his set face. "Cover your eyes, my lady. I would not have you look upon weapon play."
The deep voice of the Tatar chieftain broke in upon his words:
"Thou hast lied, dog of a Nazarene. Allah, thou hast lied! Of the Nazarenes in Tana I asked this-that they bring forth to me a gift. This day, at the hour when the shadows turn, a warrior with a red beard came to my tent from Tana, saying that the Prince of Tana would send forth to me a maiden, his sister, to this well."
He looked about him calmly and nodded. "Surely here is the well and the tent with the banner, as the Nazarene prince promised. Besides, the maiden was to be protected by a man of valor until she came under my hand. What other art thou? And where is the letter?"
Sir Bruce glanced at the embers of the fire, where the red wax had long since disappeared. So Messer Andrea had sent Piculph out to the Tatars at midnight! And Messer Andrea had yielded Marie to him, knowing that the Tatars would never believe that a fair woman could make even the journey of a day without an armed guardian. Indeed, the Counter had bought his own safety cheaply-at the price of a girl and a few ribalds, some horses and a pavilion.
"I have not lied," he cried-aware now that the issue was at hand. "Be ye witnesses that she is mine." His left hand dropped from Marie's shoulder and gathered up his reins.
Subai Ghazi made a gesture as if casting something from him. "Strike!" he commanded.
The officers nearest him freed their swords and pulled up their horses' heads. But Sir Bruce did not let them rush in upon him. He drove in his spurs and the gray Arab leaped toward Subai Ghazi.
Sir Bruce had no chance to escape or defend himself. The ring of warriors broke and closed in, as wolves leap at a stag. An arrow crashed against his helmet and sent it spinning underfoot. He heard the whistle of steel at his ear and flung up his left arm-and felt the edge of a saber bite into the mesh of his mail.
He rose in his stirrups and lashed down with his sword. The long blade caught the Tatar in front of him and cut through the man's uptossed shield and arm and shoulder, crushing the bones of his chest. Sir Bruce freed his sword with a wrench as a second rider shouldered aside the rearing pony of the dying man. He had not time to strike again, but he leaned forward, dashing the iron pommel of his heavy sword into the scowling