“I love you, Rosamund! I love you—all of 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 faults, 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 honour and watch you well. Oh! what more is there to say?” “Nothing, Wulf,” answered Rosamund, 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 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.