“I do not know,” answered Godwin; “but this I do know, that for the sake of Rosamund, and perhaps for my sake also, Masouda has run a fearful risk. Bethink you, what will be the mood of Saladin when at length he finds that she upon whom he had built such hopes has gone, leaving a waiting woman decked out in her attire.” “Oh!” broke in Rosamund. “I feared it, but I awoke to find myself disguised, and she persuaded me that all was well; also that this was done by the will of Wulf, whom she thought would escape.” “That is the worst of if,” said Godwin. “To carry out her plan she held it necessary to lie, as I think she lied when she said that she believed we should both escape, though it is true that so it came about. I will tell you why she lied. It was that she might give her life to set you free to join me in Jerusalem.” Now Rosamund, who knew the secret of Masouda’s heart, looked at him strangely, wondering within herself how it came about that, thinking Wulf dead or about to die, she should sacrifice herself that she, Rosamund, might be sent to the care of Godwin. Surely it could not be for love of her, although they loved each other well. From love of Godwin then? How strange a way to show it! Yet now she began to understand. So true and high was this great love of Masouda’s that for Godwin’s sake she was ready to hide herself in death, leaving him—now that, as she thought, his rival was removed—to live on with the lady whom he loved; ay, and at the price of her own life giving that lady to his arms. Oh! how noble must she be who could thus plan and act, and, whatever her past had been, how pure and high of soul! Surely, if she lived, earth had no grander woman; and if she were dead, heaven had won a saint indeed. Rosamund looked at Godwin, and Godwin looked at Rosamund, and there was understanding in their eyes, for now both of them saw the truth in all its glory and all its horror. “I think that I should go back also,” said Rosamund. “That shall not be,” answered Wulf. “Saladin would kill you for this flight, as he has sworn.” “That cannot be,” added Godwin. “Shall the sacrifice of blood be offered in vain? Moreover it is our duty to prevent you.” Rosamund looked at him again and stammered: “If—if—that dreadful thing has happened, Godwin—if the sacrifice—oh! what will it serve?” “Rosamund, I know not what has chanced; I go to see. I care not what may chance; I go to meet it. Through life, through death, and if there be need, through all the fires of hell, I ride on till I find Masouda, and kneel to her in homage—” “And in love,” exclaimed Rosamund, as though the words broke from her lips against her will. “Mayhap,” Godwin answered, speaking more to himself than to her. Then seeing the look upon his face, the set mouth and the flashing eyes, neither of them sought to stay him further.