To and fro they reeled and staggered, whirling round and round, till none could tell which of them was Wulf or which his foe. Now they were on the edge of the abyss, and, in that last dread strain for mastery, seemed to stand there still as stone. Then one man began to bend down. See! his head hung over. Further and further he bent, but his arms could not be loosened. “They will both go!” cried the multitude in their joy. Look! A dagger flashed. Once, twice, thrice it gleamed, and those wrestlers fell apart, while from deep down in the gulf came the thud of a fallen body. “Which—oh, which?” cried Rosamund from her battlement. “Sir Hugh Lozelle,” answered Godwin in a solemn voice. Then the head of Rosamund fell forward on her breast, and for a while she seemed to sleep. Wulf went to his horse, turned it about on the bridge, and throwing his arm around its neck, rested for a space. Then he mounted and walked slowly towards the inner gate. Pushing through the guard and officers, Godwin rode out to meet him. “Bravely done, brother,” he said, when they came face to face. “Say, are you hurt?” “Bruised and shaken—no more,” answered Wulf. “A good beginning, truly. Now for the rest,” said Godwin. Then he glanced over his shoulder, and added, “See, they are leading Rosamund away, but Sinan remains, to speak with you doubtless, for Masouda beckons.” “What shall we do?” asked Wulf. “Make a plan, brother, for my head swims.” “Hear what he has to say. Then, as your horse is not wounded either, ride for it when I give the signal as Masouda bade us. There is no other way. Pretend that you are wounded.” So, Godwin leading, while the multitude roared a welcome to the conquering Wulf who had borne himself so bravely for their pleasure, they rode to the mouth of the bridge and halted in the little space before the archway. There Al-je-bal spoke by Masouda. “A noble fray,” he said. “I did not think that Franks could fight so well; Say, Sir Knight, will you feast with me in my palace?” “I thank you, lord,” answered Wulf, “but I must rest while my brother tends my hurts,” and he pointed to blood upon his mail. “To-morrow, if it pleases you.” Sinan stared at them and stroked his beard, while they trembled, waiting for the word of fate. It came. “Good. So be it. To-morrow I wed the lady Rose of Roses, and you two—her brothers—shall give her to me, as is fitting,” and he sneered. “Then also you shall receive the reward of valour—a great reward, I promise you.” While he spoke Godwin, staring upward, had noted a little wandering cloud floating across the moon. Slowly it covered it, and the place grew dim.