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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 until this time to-morrow. For instance, you might let me kiss your hand—the pact said nothing about kissing.”

      “I know naught of this pact, Wulf,” answered Rosamund sternly, although a smile crept about the corners of her mouth, “but I do know that I shall not suffer you to touch my hand.”

      “Then I will kiss your robe,” and seizing 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 advantages you nothing.”

      He let the cloak fall.

      “Your pardon. I should have remembered that Godwin would 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! Nay, be not angry with me, Rosamund, who cannot tread the path of saints.”

      “That I believe, but at least, Wulf, there is no need to mock those who can.”

      “I mock him not. I love him as well as—you do.” And he watched her face.

      It never changed, for in Rosamund’s heart were hid the secret strength and silence of the East, which can throw a mask impenetrable over face and features.

      “I am glad that you love him, Wulf. See to it that you never forget your love and duty.”

      “I 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.

      “Ay,” she answered in a heavy voice. “To-morrow I must speak, and—you must listen.”

      The sun had run his course again, and once more it was near four 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 descending from the solar, and they knew her errand.

      “Which?” asked Wulf, but Godwin shook his head.

      “Sir Andrew bids me say that he would speak with you both,” said the woman, and went her way.

      “By the saints, I believe it’s neither!” exclaimed Wulf, with a little laugh.

      “It may be thus,” said Godwin, “and 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 greeting.

      “Speak, Rosamund,” said her father. “These knights are in doubt and pain.”

      “Now for the coup de grace,” muttered 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 honour, both of you, in asking me to be the wife of such worthy knights, with whom I have been brought up and have loved since childhood as a sister loves her brothers. I will be brief as I may. Alas! I can give to neither of you the answer which you wish.”

      “Coup de grace indeed,” 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 silence for a little space, while from beneath his 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 going.”

      “Not 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 approved. Come to me this time two years, and if we all three live, should both of you still wish for 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 once.”

      “And if 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, will forthwith wed the other.”

      “Pardon me—” broke in Wulf.

      She held up her hand and stopped him, saying: “You think this a strange saying, 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 between two such men no maiden would 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 in truth 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:

      “I will not answer that question.”

      “And Wulf should not have asked it,” said Godwin. “Brother, I read Rosamund’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 a while—she will not suffer 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 issue. Nay, I am even glad of it, since it gives us time and opportunity to show 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 Andrew. “And you, Wulf?”

      Then Wulf, feeling that Rosamund was watching his face beneath the shadow of her long eyelashes, answered:

      “Before Heaven, I am content also, for whatever may be said against it, now at least there will be two years of war in which one or both of us well may fall, and for that while at least no woman can come between our brotherhood. Uncle, I crave your leave to go serve my liege in Normandy.”

      “And I also,” said Godwin.

      “In the spring; in the spring,” replied Sir Andrew hastily; “when King Henry moves his power. Meanwhile, bide you here in all good fellowship, for, who knows—much may happen between now and then, and perhaps your strong arms will be needed as they were not long ago. Moreover, I look to all three of you to hear no more

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