THE KNIGHT ERRANT We had left Damascus after noon the day before, and had spent the night at a great fortress-khan--the first of many on the pilgrims' road.

We had been on our way an hour before Rashid discovered that he had left a pair of saddle-bags behind him at the khan; and as those saddle-bags contained belongings of Suleyman, the latter went back with him to retrieve them.

I rode on slowly, looking for a patch of shade.

Except the khan, a square black object in the distance, there was nothing in my range of vision to project a shadow larger than a good-sized thistle.

Between a faint blue wave of mountains on the one hand and a more imposing but far distant range upon the other, the vast plain rolled to the horizon in smooth waves.
I was ascending such an undulation at my horse's leisure when a cavalier appeared upon its summit--a figure straight out of the pages of some book of chivalry, with coloured mantle streaming to the breeze, and lance held upright in the stirrup-socket.