"
While they were speaking, the Archduke of Austria, who stood a
little apart, was struck with the mention of iced sherbet, and
took with pleasure and some bluntness the deep goblet, as the
Earl of Huntingdon was about to replace it.
"Most delicious!" he exclaimed, after a deep draught, which the
heat of the weather, and the feverishness following the debauch
of the preceding day, had rendered doubly acceptable. He sighed
as he handed the cup to the Grand Master of the Templars.
Saladin made a sign to the dwarf, who advanced and pronounced,
with a harsh voice, the words, ACCIPE HOC! The Templar started,
like a steed who sees a lion under a bush beside the pathway; yet
instantly recovered, and to hide, perhaps, his confusion, raised
the goblet to his lips. But those lips never touched that
goblet's rim. The sabre of Saladin left its sheath as lightning
leaves the cloud. It was waved in the air, and the head of the
Grand Master rolled to the extremity of the tent, while the trunk
remained for a second standing, with the goblet still clenched in
its grasp, then fell, the liquor mingling with the blood that
spurted from the veins.
Pages:
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653