Now also, as he thought calmly, he guessed that Beatrix must be in
Jerusalem, and that Curboil, having taken her from Antioch, and meaning
to kill his enemy before he sailed back to England, had brought his
daughter with him, fearing lest she should escape him again and find
refuge against him.
He found little Alric sitting on the low doorstep of the house where he
lodged, his stolid Saxon face pink and white in the fresh dawn, and his
thick hands hanging idly over his knees, while the round blue eyes
stared at the street. He got up when Gilbert came near, and pulled off
his woollen cap.
"Well done, Alric," said Gilbert. "That is the second time you have
saved my life."
"It was a good arrow," answered Alric, thoughtfully. "I carried it two
years and made it very sharp. It is a pity the man broke the shaft with
his head when he fell, and I would have cut off the steel point to use
it again, but I heard footsteps and ran away, lest I should be taken
for a thief."
"It was well shot," said Gilbert, and he went in.
CHAPTER XXV
It had been early dawn when they had found Sir Arnold dead; it was
toward evening when Gilbert and Dunstan followed a young Jew to the
door of a Syrian house in a garden of the old quarter of the city,
toward the Zion gate. All day they had searched Jerusalem, up and down,
through the narrow streets of whitened houses, inquiring everywhere for
a knight who had lately come with his one daughter, and no one could
tell them anything; for Sir Arnold had paid well to find a retired
house, where Beatrix might be safely guarded while he went out to seek
Gilbert and kill him, and where he himself could hide if there were any
pursuit.
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