old saint in the reliquary at Stangate--a thing which
may have beaten once, and will perhaps beat again in heaven, but
now is somewhat dead--to this world."

Rosamund smiled, and thought to herself that this dead heart had
shown signs of life not long ago. But aloud she said:

"If you have no more to say to me of Godwin's heart, I will
begone to read with my father, who waits for me."

"Nay, I have much more to say of my own." Then suddenly Wulf
became very earnest--so earnest that his great frame shook, and
when he strove to speak he could but stammer. At length it all
came forth in a flood of burning words.

"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, b