n a little cry broke from her lips, for there, in front
of the throne of Saladin, the moonlight and the lamp-blaze
shining on his armour, stood a tall Christian knight. At that cry
he turned his head, and she grew sure that it was Wulf, wasted
somewhat and grown pale, but still Wulf.

"So we are to die together," she whispered to herself, then
walked forward with a proud step amidst the deep silence, and,
having bowed to Saladin, took the hand of Wulf and held it.

The Sultan looked at them and said:

"However long it may be delayed, the day of fate must break at
last. Say, Franks, are you prepared to drink the dregs of that
cup I promised you?"

"We are prepared," they answered with one voice.

"Do you grieve now that you laid down your lives to save those of
all Jerusalem?" he asked again.

"Nay," Rosamund answered, glancing at Wulf's face; "we rejoice
exceedingly that God has been so good to us."

"I too rejoice," said Saladin; "and I too thank Allah Who in
bygone days sent me that vision which has given me back the holy
city of Jerusalem without bloodshed. Now all is accomplished as
it was fated. Lead them away."

For a moment they clung together, then emirs took Wulf to the
right and Rosamund to the left, and she went with a pale face and
high head to meet her executioner, wondering if she would see
Godwin ere she died. They led her to a chamber where women waited
but no swordsman that she could see, and shut the door upon her.

"Perchance I am to be strangled by these women," thought
Rosamund, as they came towards her, "so that the blood royal may
not be shed."

Yet it was not so, for with gentle hands, but in silence, they
unrobed her, and washed her with scented waters and braided her
hair, twisting it up with pearls and gems. Then they clad her in
fine linen, and put over it gorgeous, broidered garments, and a
royal mantle of purple, and her own jewels which she had worn in
bygone days, and with them others still more splendid, and threw
about her head a gauzy veil worked with golden stars. It was just
such a veil as Wulf's gift which she had worn on the night when
Hassan dragged her from her home at Steeple. She noted it and
smiled at the sad omen, then said:

"Ladies, why should I mock my doom with these bright garments?"

"It is the Sultan's will," they answered; "nor shall you rest
to-night less happily because of them."

Now all was ready, and the door opened and she stepped through
it,