" Who brought you here and why have you come? " asked the Prince, who must have been extraordinarily naïve not to have realized their presence meant mischief. Their only answer was a dagger thrust, which wounded him severely, and the next instant they were in Saladino tent. Fortunately, there was help at hand, and they were seized before they could get at him. However, they managed to kill quite a few of his attendants before they could be overcome. Six months later, when Saladin was seated in his tent alone, a man slunk beneath the canvas unnoticed and actually landed a blow upon the Sultan's head which would have ended his career, had the point of the knife not been caught in the cap of mail he wore under his tarboosh. Saladin caught the fellow's wrist but, being unable to rise, could not prevent his continuing to shower blows upon him with his free hand. Trained in the art of murder, the assailant's dagger was directed with skill and certainty. The aim was for the Sultan's throat, and struck there unerringly, but again it was deflected, this time by the coat of armor he fortunately wore this day beneath his tunic. The Sultan's cries brought aid, and one of his captains seized the knife and held it, though it cut his fingers, until the desperado succumbed to the blows rained upon him. But the end was not yet. He had hardly fallen before another wild-eyed murderer was in the tent and fighting desperately to get at Saladin in spite of his