endured by all. This done, their armour
was brought in and piled before them upon the steps of the altar,
and the congregation departed homeward, leaving them with their
esquires and the priest to spend the long winter night in orisons
and prayers.

Long, indeed, it was, in that lonesome, holy place, lit only by a
lamp which swung before the altar. Wulf prayed and prayed until
he could pray no more, then fell into a half dreamful state that
was haunted by the face of Rosamund, where even her face should
have been forgotten. Godwin, his elbow resting against the tomb
that hid his father's heart, prayed also, until even his
earnestness was outworn, and he began to wonder about many
things.

That dream of his, for instance, in his sickness, when he had
seemed to be dead, and what might be the true duty of man. To be
brave and upright? Surely. To fight for the Cross of Christ
against the Saracen? Surely, if the chance came his way. What
more? To abandon the world and to spend his life muttering
prayers like those priests in the darkness behind him? Could that
be needful or of service to God or man? To man, perhaps, because
such folk tended the sick and fed the poor. But to God? Was he
not sent into the world to bear his part in the world--to live
his full life? This would mean a half-life--one into which no
woman might enter, to which no child might be added, since to
monks and even to certain brotherhoods, all these things, which
Nature decreed and Heaven had sanctified, were deadly sin.

It would mean, for instance, that he must think no more of
Rosamund. Could he do this for the sake of the welfare of his
soul in some future state?

Why, at the thought of it even, in that solemn place and hour of
dedication, his spirit reeled, for then and there for the first
time it was borne in upon him that he loved this woman more than
all the world beside--more than his life, more, perhaps, than his
soul. He loved her with all his pure young heart--so much that it
would be a joy to him to die for her, not only in the heat of
battle, as lately had almost chanced on the Death Creek quay, but
in cold blood, of set purpose, if there came need. He loved her
with body and with spirit, and, after God, here to her he
consecrated his body and his spirit. But what value would she put
upon the gift? What if some other man--?

By his side, his elbows resting on the altar rails, his eyes
fixed upon the beaming armour that he would wear