The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 1, 1905, Page 4

that you will fail. « But if love and life should leave you, then ‘come back and we will talk again. Go on, pure knight of Christ, fearing nothing and sure of the reward, and take with you the blessing of Christ church.” penance I bear, ' must father?"” “Such. souls as yours inflict their . own penance. -The saints forbid that 1-should ‘add to .it,” was the gentle an- swer. - Then with a lightened heart God- win returned to-the altar rails, while s brother ‘Wulf was summoned to take his place in the confessional. Of the sins that e *had to tell we need not speak. "They were such as were common. to young men and none of them ve: Still; before he gave him absolution, the good Prior admonished him to think.léss of his body and more of his spirit; -less of the glory of the feats of arms and more to the true ends to which he should enter on them. He bade him, moreover, to take his brother Gadwin an_earthly guide and ex- ample, since theré lived no better or wiser man of his years, and finally dis- missed him, prophesying that if he would heed these counsels he would come to- great glory. on earth and in heaven. » “Father, I will do my best,”” an- swered Wulf humbly, “but there can- not be two Godwins, and, father, some- times I fear me that our paths. will cross, since two men cannot win one e o uble,” answered the Prior anxiously, “and. with less noble natured men it might be grave. But if it should come to this, then must dy judge according to the wishes own heart, and he who loses her must be loyal in sorrow as in joy. But be sure you take no base advan- tage of your brother in'the hour. of temptation and bear him no bitterness should he win the bride.”” “I.think 1 can be sure of that’ sald Wulf; “alsa that we, who have loved each other from birth, would before we betrayed each other.” answered the Prior, ‘but Satan is very strong.” Then Wulf also returned to the altar rails, and the full mass was sung, and the sacrament . received by the two neophytes, and the offerings made all in their appointed -order. Next they “were led back to the priory to rest and to eat a little after their long night's -vigil in the .cold church, and here they while, .thinking -their ow , seated alone in the Prior’s chamber. At length Wulf, who Seemed to be ill at ease, rose and laid his hand upon his brother’s shoulder, saying: “I-can be silent ng more; it was ever thus: that which is in my- mind must out of it. -1 have words to say to you.” “Speak on, Wul said ‘Godwin. Wulf ‘sat himself down again on his stool, and for a while stared hard at nothing, -for he did not seem to find it easy to begin .this tal Now Godwin could read hie brother's mind like a k, but Wulf ¢ould not always read , although, being twins who who had been- together from birth, their hearts were for the most part- open to each other without the need of s of our cousin Rosamund, is it asked Godwin presently. “And you would tell ‘me that you love her, and .that now you are a knight—almost—and hard.on five-and- twenty years of age, you would ask her to become your affianced wife?” es; it came into my ‘hédrt when she rode the gray horse into the water, there upon the pier, and I thought that I shoufd never see her any more. I say that it came into my. heart that.life was not worth living nor death worth dying without her. Then, Wulf,” answered Godwin siowly, “what.more is ‘there:to say? Ask on, and prosper. Why not?. We have some lands, if not many, and Rosamund will:not lack for the: nor do I think that our uncle would say you nay, if she wills it, seeing that you are the properest man and the bravest all this country side.” Except my brother Godwin, who is and learned to boot, which I am nof replied Wulf musingly. Then there was silence for a while, which he broke. odwin, our ill-luck is that you love her also, and -that you thought the same thought that I did yonder on the head.” dwin flushed a little and his long fingers tightened" their grip upon his knee. It is so,” he said quietly. “Té my . grief it is so. But she knows mothing of this, and should never know it if you will keep a watch upon your tongue. B Moreover, you need mot be jealous of me, before marriage or after.’ “What, then, would you have me do?” asked Wulf hotly. “Seek her heart, and perchance—though this I doubt—let her yield it to me, she think- that you care naught for her?” Vhy asked Godwin again, with a sigh; “it might save her some pain and you some- doubt, and make your own path more clear. A marriage is more to you than to me, Wulf, who think.sometimes that my sword shall be my spouse and duty my only crown.” “Who think, having a heart of gold, that even in such a thing as this you will not bar the path of the brother whom you love. Nay, Godwin, as I ama ginful man, and as I desire her above all things on earth, I will play no such coward’s game, nor conquer one who will not lift his sword lest he should hurt me. Sooner would I bid you all farewell, and go to seek fortune or death *n the wars without - work spoken.” “Leaving her to pine, perchance. Oh, could we be sure that she had no mind toward either of us, that would be best —to begone together. But, Wulf, we cannot be sure, since at times, to be honest, I have thought she loves you.” “And at times, to be honest, T have been sure that she loves you, although I should like to try my luck and hear it from her lips, which on such terms I will not do.” “What, then, is your plan, Wulf?” “My plan is that if our uncle gives us leave, we should both speak to her— vou first, as the eldest, setting out your case as best you can, and asking her to think of it and give you answer within a day. Then, before that day is done I also should speak, so that she may know all the story, and play her part in it with cpened eyes, not deeming, as otherwise she might, that we know each other’s niinds, and that you ask because I have no will that way.” “It 1s.very fair,” said Godwin, “and worthy of you, who are the most hon- est of men. Yet Wulf, my heart is troubled. See you, my brother, have ever hyethren loved each other as we do? And now must the shadow of a woman fall upon that love and blight it, that is so falr and precious a thing?” “Why s0?” .asked Wulf. ‘“Though it is the common thought, I think it un- needful that even this should sour our great love. Come, Godwin, let us make a pact that it shall not be thus, and keep it by the help of lteaven. Let us show the world that two men can love one woman and still-love each other, not knowing as yet which of them she will choose—if, indeed, she chooses either; for, Godwin, we are not the only gentlemen in the world whose eyes have turned, or yet may turn, toward the high-born, rich and lovely Lady Rosamund. Is it your will that . we shall make such a pact?” Godwin thought a little, swered: “Yes; but if so it must be one so strong that for her sake and for both our sakes we cannot break it and live with honor.” “So be it,” said Wulf. “This is man’s work, not child’s make:believe. Then Godwin rose and going to the door bade his squire, who watched without, pray the Prior John to come to them, as they sought his counsel in a matter. So he came, and standing before him with downcast head, God- win told him all the tale, which, indeed, then -an- ‘he ‘who knew. so much already was quick to understand, and of their pur- pose also; while at a question from the prior Wulf answered that it was well and truly said, nothing having been kept back.- Then they asked him if it was lawful that they should take such an oath, to which he replied that he thought it not only lawful, but very good. So. in the end, kneeling together hand in hand before the holy rood that stood in the chamber, they repeated this oath after him, both of them together: “We brethren, Godwin and- Wulf D’Arcy, do solemnly swear by-the holy cross of Christ and by the patron saint of this place, St. Mary Magdalene, and our - patron saints, St. Peter and St. Chad, standing in the presence of God, our- guardian angels, and of you, John, that being both of us enamored of our cousin, - Rosamund D’Arcy, we will, if her sire allows it, ask her to wife in the manner we have agreed, and no other. That we will abide by her will, should she choose either of us, nor seek to alter it by tempting her from her troth, or in any fashion overt or covert. That he of us whom she re- fuses will thenceforth be a brother to her and no more, however Satan may tempt his heart otherwise. That so far as may be possible to us; who are but sinful men, we will suffer no bitterness nor jealousy to come between our love because of this woman, and that im war or peace we will remain faithful comrades and brethren. And so we swear with a true heart and purpose, and in token thereof, knowing that he who breaks this oath will be a knight dishonored and a vessel fit for the wrath of God, we kiss this rood and one another.” This, then, they said and did. and with light minds and joyful faces re- ceived the blessing of the Prior. who had christened them in infancy. and went down to meet the great company that had ridden forth to lead them back to Steeple, where their knighting should be done. So to Steeple, preceded by the squires, who rode before them bare- headed, carrying their swords by their scabbarded p ints, with the gold spurs hangin- from the hilts, they came at last. Here thé“hall was set for a great feast, a space having been left*between the tables and the dais, te whicly the brethren were conducted. Then came forward Sir Anthony de Mandeville and Sir Roger de Merci in full armour, and presented to Sir Andrew D"Arcy, their uncle, who stood upon the edge of the dais, @lso in his armour, their swords and spurs, of which he gave back to them’ the latter, bidding them affix .them; upon the candidates’ right heels. This done, the Prior John blessed the swords, after which Sir Andrew girded them about the waists of his nephews, saying: “Take ye back the swords that you have used so well.” Next he drew his wn silver-hilted blade that had been his father’s and his grandfather's, and’ whilst they knelt before him, smote each of them three blows upon the right shoulder, crying with a loud voice: “In the name of God, Saint Michael and Saint George I knight ye. Be ye good knights.” Thereafter came forward Reosamund as their nearest kinswom- an, and, helped by other ladies, clad upon them their hauberks, or coats of mail, their helms of steel, and their kite-shaped shields, emblazoned with “a skull, the cognizance of their race. This done, with the musicians march- ing before them, they walked to Steeple Church, a distance of 200 paces from the hall, where they laid their swords upon the altar and took them up again, swearing to be good servants of Christ and defenders of the church. As they left its doors ‘who should meet them but the cook, carrying his chopper in his hand and claiming as his fee the value of the spurs they wore, crying aloud at the same time: “If either of you young knights should do aught in despite of your honor and of the oaths that you have sworn—from which may God and his =aints prevent you!—then with my chopper will T hack these spufs from off your heels.” Thus at last the long ceremony was ended, and after it came a very great feast, for at the high table were enter- tained many noble knights and ladies, and below in the hall their squires and other gentlemen, and outside all the yeomanry and villagers, while the children and the aged had food and drink given to them in the nave of the church itself. When the eating at length was done, the center of the hall was cleared, and while men drank, the minstrels made music, for all were very merry with wine and strong ale, and talk arose as to which of these breth- ren—Sir Godwin and Sir Wulf—was the more brave, the more handsome, and the more learned and evurteous. Now a knight, it was Sir Saurin de Salcote—seeing that the argument grew hot and was like to lead to blows, rose and declared that this should be decided by beauty alone, and that none could be more fitted to judge than the fair lady whom the two of them had saved from woman-thleves at the Death Creek quay. ~Then all called, “Aye, let her settle it,” and it was agreed that she would give the ker- chief from her neck to the bravest, a beaker of wine to the handsomest, and a Book of hours to the most learned. So, seeing no help for it, singe gentle and simple allke, except her father, the brethren, the mosi of the other ladies and herself, who drank but.water, had begun to grow heated with wine and were very urgent, Rosamund took the silk kerchlef from her neck. Then. coming to the edge of the dais, where they were seated in the sight of all, she stood before her cousins, not knowing, poor maid, to which of them she should offer it. But Godwin -whispered a word to Wulf, and both of them stretching out their right hands took an end of the ker- chief which she held toward them, and renting it in twain twisted the severed fragments round their. sword hilts, whereat all laughed at 'their wit and cried: : “The wine for the handsome. They cannot serve that thus.” Rosamund thought a moment; then she lifted a great silver breaker, the largest on the board, and having filled it full of wine once more came for- ward and held it before them as though pondering. Thereon the brethren, as though by a single move- ment, bent forward and each of them touched the beaker with his Iips. Again a great laugh went up, and even Rosamund smiled. . “The book! the. book!” cried the company. “They may not tear the holy book!" So for the third time Rosamund ad- vanced, bearing the missal. “Knights,” she said, “you have rent my kerchief and drunk my wine. Now T offer this hallowed writing—to him who can read it best.” “Give it to Godwin,” said Wulf. am_a swordsman, not a clerk.” “Well said! well said!” roared the company. ‘“The sword for us—not the pen!” But Rosamund turned on them and answered: “He who wields sword, is brave, and he who wields pen is wise, but better is he who can handle both sword and pen—like my cousin Godwin—the brave and learned.” ° . “Hear her! hear her!" cried the com- pany, knocking their horns upon the board, while in the silence that fol- lowed a woman’s volce sald, “Sir God- win's luck is great, but give me Sir ‘Wulf’s strong arms.” Then the drinking, began again, and Rosamund and the lddies slipped away,/ as well they might—for the times were rough and coarse On ' the morrow, after most of the guests were gone, many of them with aching heads, Godwin and Wulf sought their uncle, Sir Andrew, in the solar where he sat alone, for they knew that Rosamund had walked to the church hard by with two of the serving women to make it ready for the Fri- day’s mass, after the feast of the peas- ants that had been held in the nave. Coming to his oaken chair by the open hearth which had a chimney to it—no common thing in those days—they kneeled: before him. 4 “What is it now, my nephews?” asked the old man, smiling. *“Do you wish that I should knight you afresh?” “Nay, sir,” answered Godwin, “‘we seek a greater boon.” “Then you seek In vain, for there is none.” “‘Another sort of boon,” Wulf. Sir Andrew pulled his beard, and looked at them. Perhaps the Prior John had spoken a word to him, and he guessed what was coming. “Speak,” he said to Godwin. < “The gift is great that I would not.give\to either of you if it be within my power.” “Sir,” said Godwin, *“we seek the leave to ask your daughter's-hand in marriage.” ’ “What! the two of you?" - “Yes, sir; the two of ul . e Then . 8ir" Andrew, who « seldom laughed, laughed outright. ““Truly,” he said, “of all the strange things I have known, this is the'stran- gest—that two knights should ask one wife between them.” 3 “It seems strange, sir; but listen our tale and vou will understand.” So he listened while they told him all that had passed between them and of the solemn oath which they had sworn. “Noble in this as in other things,” commented Sir Andrew when they had done; ut I fear that one of you will find that vow hard to keep. By all the saints, nephews, you were right when “you said that you asked a great boon. Do you know, although I have told you nothing of it, that, not to speak of the knave Lozelle, already two of the greatest men in this land have sought my daughter Rosamund in marriage.” “It may well be 80,” said Wulf. “It is s0, and now I will tell you why one or other of the pair is not her hus- band, which in some ways I would he were. A simple reason. I asked her, and she had no mind to either, and as her mother married where her heart was, so 1 have sworn that the daugh- ter should do, or not at all—for better a nunnery than a loveless bridal. Now let us see what you have to give. You are of good blood—that of Uluin by your mother, and'mine, also on one side her own. As squires to your spon- sors of yesterday, the knights Sir An- thony de Mandeville nd Sir Roger de Merci, you bore you bravely in the Scottish War: indeed, your liege King Henry remembered it, and that is why he granted my prayer so readily. Since then, although vou loved the life lit- tle, because I asked it of you, you have rested here at home with me, and done no feats of arms, save that great one of two months gone which made you knights, and, in truth, gives you some claim on Rosamund. For the rest, your father being the younger son, your lands are small, and you have no other gear. Outside the borders of this shire you are unknown men, with all your deeds to do—for I reckon not those Scottish battles when you were but boys. And she whom you ask is one of the fairest and mno- blest and most learned ladies in this land, for I, who have some skill in such things, have taught her myself from childhood. Moreover, as 1 have no other heir, she will be wealthy. ‘Well, what more have you to offer for all this?” “‘Ourselves,” answered Wulf boldly. “We are true knights of whom you know the best and worst, and we love her. We learned it for once and for rall on Death Creek' quay, for till then she was our sister and no more.” “Ay,” added Godwin, ‘“when she swore herself to us' and blessed us, then light broke on both.” “Stand up,” said Sir Andrew, “and let me look at you.” So they stood side by side in the full light of the blazing fire, for little other came .through those narrow windows. “Proper men; proper men;"” said t old* knight; “and as like to one an- other as two grains of wheat from the same sample. Six feet high, each of you, and broad-chested, though Wulf is larger made and the stronger of the two. Brown and waving-haired, both, save for that line of white where the sword hit yours, Godwin—Godwin with gray eyes that dream and Wulf with the blue eyes that shine ilke swords. Ah! your grandsire had eyes like that, ‘Wulf; and I have been told that when he leaped from the tower to the wall at the taking of’ Jerusalem, the Pay- 4 broke in to __THE. SAN -FRANCISCO - SUNDAY - CALL. nims did not love the light that shone in_them—nor, in faith, did I, his son, when he was angry. Proper men, the pair of you; but Wulf most warrior- like, and Sir Godwin most courtly.” “Now which do you think would please a-woman most?"’ “That, sir, depends upon the woman,” answered Godwin. his ‘eyes began to dream. “That, sir, we seek to learn before the day is out, If you give us leave,” added Wulf; “though, if you woula know, I think my chance a poor one.” “Ah, well; it is a very pretty riddle. But I do not envy her who has its an- swering, for it might well trouble a maid’s mind, neither is ft certain when all is done that she will guess best for her own peace; Would it not be wiser, then, that I should forbid them to ask this riddle?” he added, as though to ‘himself, and fell thinking while they trembled. seeing that he was minded to refuse their suit. length he looked up again and sal 'Nay, let it go as God wills, who holds the future in his hand. Nephews, because you are knights ‘and true, either of whora would ward her well—and she may need warding—because you are my only brother’'s sons, whom I have promised him to care for; and most of all because I'love you both with an equal love, have your wish and go try your fortunes ‘at the hands of my daughter Rosamund in the fashion you have agreed. Godwin, the elder, first, as is his right; then Wulf. Nay, no thanks; but go swiftly, for I, whose hours are short, wish to learn the an- swer to this riddle. : So they bowed and went, walking side by side. At the door of the hall ‘Wulf stopped and said: “She is in the church. Seek her there, and—oh! I would that I could wish you good fortune; but, Godwin, I cannét. I fear me that this may be the edge of that shadow of woman’s love whereof you spoke, falling cold upon ‘my heart.” “There is no shadow; there is light, now and always, as we have sworn that it should be,” answered Godwin. CHAPTER 1V. The Letter of Saladin. It was past 3 in the afternoon and snow clouds were fast covering up the last gray gleam of the December day as Godwin, wishing that his road was longer, walked to the church across the meadow. At the door of it he met the two serving women coming out with brooms in their hands and bear- ing between them a great: basket filled with broken meats and foul rushes. Of thein he asked if the lady Rosamund was still in the church, to which they answered, curtseyving: “Yes, Sir Godwln.‘apd she ‘bade us desire of you that you would come to lead her to.the hall when she had finished making her prayers before the altar.” e 3 ‘wonder,"” mused Godwin, “whether I shall ever lead her from the altdr*to- the hall, or whéther—I shall bide alone by the altar.” Still he thought it a good omen that she had ' bidden him thus, though =01 might have read it otherwise. ‘He entered the church, walked soft- 1y:on the rushes with which the nave wis.gtréwn and by the light of the lampiithat burned there always saw Rosamund kneeling before a shrine, her gracious head bowed upon her * hands, praying earnestly. Of what, he wondered—of what? p’flk she did not hear hi 0, com- ing*into "the chancel he stood behind her and walted patiently. At length, with, a deepsigh, she rose from her knees and tuéhed. nd he noted by the light of the lamp that there were tear-stains upon her face. Perhaps she, too, had spoken with the Prior John, who was her confessor also. Who knows? At the least, when her eyes fell upon Godwin standing like a staue before her, she started, and there broke from her lips the words: | “Oh, how swift an answer!” Then, recovering herself, added, “To my mes- sage, I mean, cousin.” “1 met the women at the door,” he said. “It is kind of you to come,” Rosa- mund went on; “but, in truth, since that day on Death Creek I feat to walk a yard alone or in'the company of women only. With you I feel safe.” “Or with Wulf.” “Yes, or. with Wulf,” she repeated; “that is, when he is not thinking of ‘wars and adventures far away.” By now they had reached the porch of the church, to find that the snow was falling fast. “‘Let us bide here a minute,” he said; it is but a passing cloud.” So they stayed there in the gloom, and for a while there was silence. Then he spoke. “Rosamund, my cousin and lady, 1 come to put a question to you, but first—why you will 'understand—it is my duty to ask that you will give me no answer to that question until a full day is passed.” “Surely, Godwin, that is gasy to promise. But what is this wonderful question that may not-be answered?” “One short and simple. Will you promise yourself to me in marrfage?” She leaned back against the wall of the porch. “My father—' she began. “Rosamund, I have his leave.” “How can I answer since you your- self forbid it?” “Ti'l this time to-morrow only. Meanwhile, I pray you hear me. Rosa- mund. I am your cousin, and we were brought up together—indeed, ex- cept when I was away at the Scottish war, we have never been apart. There- fore, we know each other well, as well as any may who are not wedded. Therefore, too, you will know that I have always loved you, first as a brother loves his sister, and now as a man loves a woman.” “Nay, Godwin, I knew it not; in- deed, I thought that, as it used to be, “Nay, no lady; but in your dreams.” “Dreams? Dreams of what?” “I cannot say. Perchance of things that are not here—things higher than the person of a poor maid.” *““Cousin, in part you are right, for it is not only the maid whom I love, but her spirit also. Oh, in truth, you are to me a dream—a very symbol of all that is noble, high and pure. In you and through you, Rosamund, worship the heaven I hope to share with you.” 3 “A dream? A symbol? Heaven? Are these glittering garments to hang about a womun's shape? Why, when the truth came out you would find her but a skull In a jeweled mask.and learn to loath her for a deceit that was And straightway . little’ not her own, but yours. Godwin, such trappings as your imagination pictures could only fit an angel's face.” “They fit a face that will become an angel's.” “An angel's? How know you? I am half an Eastern; the blood runs warm in me at times. I too have my thoughts and visions. . I think that I love power-and imagery and the de- lights of life—a different life to this. Are you sure, Godwin, that this face will be an angel's?” “I wish I were as sure of other things. At least, I'll risk it.” “Think of your soul, Godwin. It might be tarnished. You would not risk that for me, would you?” He thought. Then answered: “No; since your soul is a pnr't‘ of mine, and I would not risk you “T like you for that answer,” she sald. “Yes; more than for all you have said before, because I know that it is true. Indeed, you are an honor- able knight, and I am proud—very proud—that you should love me, though perhaps it would be better otherwise.” Apd ever so little she bent the knee to him. “Whatever chances, In life or death will make me happy, Rosa- those words mund.” Suddenly she caught his arm. “What- ever chances? Ah! what is about to chance? Great things, I think, for you and Wulf and me. Remember, I am half an Eastern, and we Easterns can feel the future before it lays its hands upon us and becomes the present. I fear it, Godwin—I tell you that I fear- it. Fear it not, Rosamund. Why should you fear? On God's knees lies the scroll of our lives, and of his purposes. The words we see and the words we guess may be terrible, but he who wrote it knows the end of the scroll, and that it is good. Fear not, therefore, but read on with an untroubled heart, taking no thought for the morrow.” She looked at him wonderingly, and asked: “Are these the words of a wooer or of a saint in warrior's weeds? I know not, and do you know yourself? But you say you love me and that you would wed me, and I believe it. Also that the woman whom Godwin weds will be fortunate, since such men are rare. But I am forbid to answer until to-morrow. Well, then I will answer as I am given grace. So tlll then be what you were of old, and—the snow has ceased. Guide me home, my cousin Godwin.” So home they went through the dark- ness and the cold, moaning wind, speaking no word, and entered the wide hall, where a great fire built in its center roared upward toward an opening in the roof, whence the smoke escaped, looking very pleasant and cheerful after the winter night without. And there, standing in front of the fire, also ‘pleasant and cheerful to behold, although his brow seemed somewhat puckered, was Wulf. At the sight of him Godwin turned back through the great door, and having &s it were stood for one moment in the light, vanished again into the darkness, closing the door behind him. But Rosamund walked on toward the fire. “You seem sad, cousin,” said Wulf, studying her. “Godwin ha$ kept you too long to pray with him in church. ‘Well, it is his custom, from which 1 myself have suffered. Be seated on this settee and warm yourself.” She obeved without a word, and opening her fur cloak, stretched . out her hands toward the flame, which played about her dark and lovely face. Wulf looked round him. The hall was empty; then he looked at Rosamund. “I am glad to find this chance .of speaking with you alone, cousin, since I have a question to ask of you; but I must pray of you to give me no an- swer to it until four-and-twenty hours be passed.” “Agreed,” she said. one such promise; let it serve both; now for your question.” “Ah!"” replied Wulf cheerfully, *“I am glad that Godwin went first, since it saves me words, at which he is better than I am.” “I do not know that, Wulf; at Jeast you have more of them,” an- swered Rosamund, with a smile. “More, perhaus, but of a different quality—that is what you mean. ‘Well, happily, here mere words are nst in question.” “What, thzn, ‘Wuif?"” “Hearts. Your heart and my heart —and I suppose Godwin’s heart, if he has gne—in that way.” “Why should not Godwin have heart. “Why? Well, you see just now it is my business to belittle Godwin. Therefore, I declare—which you, who know more about it, can believe or not, as it pleases you—that Godwin’s heart is like that of the old saint in the reliquary of Stangate—a thing that may have beaten once, and will perhaps beat again in heaven, but now is somewhat dead to this world.” Rosamund smiled, and thought to herself that this dead heart had shown signs of life not long ago. But aloud she said: “If you have no more to say to me of Godwin’s heart, T wiil begone to read with my father, who waits for “I have given for are in question, a Nay, I Have much more to say of my own.” And suddenly Wulf be- came earnest—so earnest that his great frame shook, and when he strove to speak he could but stammer. At length it came forth in a flood ot burning words. “I love you, Rosamund! I love you— all of you, and about you, as I have ever loved you—though I did not know it till the other day—that of the fight, and ever shall love you—and I seek you for my wife. I know that I am only a rough soldier man, full of fauits, not holy and learned like Godwin. Yet I swear that I would be a true knight to you all my life, and, if the saints give me grace and strength, do great deeds in your honor and watch you well Oh! what more is there to say?” “Nothing,” Wulf,” ‘answered Rosa- mund, lifting her downcast eyes. “You do not wish that I should answer you. So I will thank you—yes, from my heart, though, in truth, I am grieved that we can be no more brother and sister, as we have been this many a ‘year-—and be going.” “Nay, Rosamund, not yet. Although you may not speak, surely you might give me some little sign, who am in torment, and thus must stay this time to-morrow, For instance, you might let me kiss your hand—the pact said nothing about kissing.” X “I know naught of this pact, Wulf,” answered Rosamund sternly, although a smile crept about the corners of her mouth, “bug I do know that I shall not suffer you to touch my hand. “Then I will kiss ycur robe” Ard gelzing a corner of her cloak, he pressed it to his lips. ¥ “You are strong—I am weak, Wulf, and cannot wrench my garment from you, but I tell you that this play ad- Vantages you nothing.” He let the cloak fall. “Your pardon. I should have remem- bered that Godwin wculd never have presumed so far.” “Godwin,” she said, tapping her foot upon the ground, “if he gave a promise, would keep it in the spirit as well as in the letter.” “I suppose so, See what It is for an erring man to have a saint for a brother and a rival. -,ay, be not angry with me, Rosamund, whe cannot tread the path of saints.” “That I believe, but at least, Wuif, there is no need to mock those who ~I mock him not. I love him as well as—vou do.” And he watched her face. It never changed, for in RosaMund’s heart was hid the secret strength and silence of the East, that can throw a mask impenetrable over eyes and fea- tures. “I am glad that you love him, Wulf. See to it that you never forget your love and duty.” “1 will; yes—even if you reject me for: him.” “Those are honest words, such as I looked to hear you speak,” she replied in a gentle voice. “And now, dear Wulf, farewell, for I am weary—" “To-morrow,” he broke in. “Aye,” she answered in a heavy voice. “To-morrow I must speak, and —you must listen.” ! The sun had risen his course again, and once more it was near 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The brethren stood by the great fire in the hall looking at each other doubtfully—as, indeed, they had looked through all the. long hours of the night, during which neither of them had closed an eye. “It is time,” said Wulf, and Godwin nodded. As he spoke a woman was seen de- scending from the solar, and they kne' her errand. % “Which?” sald Wulf, and Godwin shook his head. “Sir Andrew bids me say that he j would speak with you both,” said the woman, and went her way. “By the saints, I believe it’s neithe: exclaimed Wulf, with a little laugh. “It may be thus,” said Godwin, perhaps that would be best for all.’ “I don’t think so,” answered Wulf, as he followed him up the steps of the solar. Now they had passed the passage and closed the door, and before them was Sir Andrew, seated in his chair by the fire, but not alone, for at his side, her hand resting upon his shoulder, stood Rosamund. They noted that she was clad in her richest robes, and. a bitter thought came into, their minds that this might be to show them how beautiful was the woman whom both of them must lose. As they advanced they bowed first to her and then to their uncle, while lifting her eyes from the ground she smiled a little in greet- ing. “Speak, Rosamund,” said her father. “These knights are in doubt and pain.” “Now for the coup de grace,” tered Wulf. “My cousins,” began Rosamund in a low, quiet voice, as though she were saying a lesson, “‘as to the matter of which you spoke to me yesterday, I have taken counsel with my father and with my own heart. You did me great henor, both of you, in asking me to be the wife of such worthy Knights, with whom I have been brought up. @nd loved since childhood as a sister loves her brothers. I will be brief as I may. A I can give to neither of you the answer which you wish.” “Coup de grace, ihdeed,” muttered ‘Wulf, “through hauberk, gambeson and shirt, right home to the heart.” But Godwin only turned a trifle paler and said nothing. Now there was si- lence for a little space, while from be- neath bushy eyebrows the old knight watched their faces, on which the light of the tapers fell. Then Godwin spoke “We thank you, cousin. Come, ‘Wulf, we have our answer; let us be gol ¥ mut- ot all of it,” broke in Rosamund hastily, and they seemed to breathe again, “Listen,” she said; “for if it pleases you, I am willing to make a promise which my father has ap- proved. Come to me ‘this time two years, and if we' all three live, should both of you still wish me to wife, that there may be no further space of pain or waiting, I will name the man whom I shall choose and -marry him at on And if ere then one of us is dead?” asked Godwin. “Then,” replied Rosamund, “if his name be untarnished and he has done no deed that is not knightly, I will forthwith wed the other.” “Pardon me—" broke in Wulf. She held up her hand and stopped him, saying: “You think this is a strange rede, and so perhaps it is; but the matter is also strange, and for me the case is hard. Remember, all my life is at stake, and I may desire more time wherein to make my choice, that be- tween two such men no maiden wouid find easy. We are all of us still young for marriage, for which, if God guards our lives, there will be time and to spAre. Also in two years I may learn which of you is the worthier knight, who to-day both seem so worthy.” “Then is neither of us more to you than the other?"” asked Wulf outright. Rosamund turned red, and her bosom heaved as she replied: “1 will not answer that question.” “And Wulf should not have asked it,” said Godwin. “Brother, I read Rosa- mund’s saying thus: Between us she finds not much to choose, or if she does in her secret heart, out of her kindness—since she is determined not to marry for awhile—she will not suf- fer us to see it and -thereby bring grief on one of us. So she says, ‘Go forth, you knights, and do deeds worthy of such a lady, and perchance he who does the highest deeds shall receive the great reward.’ For my part, I find this judgment wise and Just, and I am content to abide its is- sue. Nay, I am even glad of it, since it gives us time and opportunity to £how our sweet cousin here, and all our fellows, the mettle whereof we are made, and strive to outshine each other in the achievement of great (feats which, as always, we shall attempt side by side.” ‘Well spoken,” said Sir “And you, Wulf? Then Wulf, feeling that Rosamupad was watching his face beneath the shadow of her long eyelashes, an- swered: “Before heaven, I am content also, . Andrew.