“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 grâce_,” 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 grâce_ 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.