“Stand up,” said Sir Andrew, “and
let me look at you.”
So they stood side by side in the full light of the
blazing fire, for little other came through those
narrow windows.
“Proper men; proper men,” said the old
knight; “and as like to one another as two grains
of wheat from the same sample. Six feet high,
each of you, and broad chested, though Wulf is larger
made and the stronger of the two. Brown and waving-haired
both, save for that line of white where the sword
hit yours, Godwin—Godwin with grey eyes
that dream and Wulf with the blue eyes that shine
like swords. Ah! your grandsire had eyes like
that, Wulf; and I have been told that when he leapt
from the tower to the wall at the taking of Jerusalem,
the Saracens did not love the light which shone in
them—nor, in faith, did I, his son, when
he was angry. Proper men, the pair of you; but
Sir Wulf most warriorlike, and Sir Godwin most courtly.”
“Now which do you think would please a woman
most?”
“That, sir, depends upon the woman,” answered
Godwin, and straightway his eyes began to dream.
“That, sir, we seek to learn before the day
is out, if you give us leave,” added Wulf; “though,
if you would know, I think my chance a poor one.”
“Ah, well; it is a very pretty riddle.
But I do not envy her who has its answering, for it
might well trouble a maid’s mind, neither is
it certain when all is done that she will guess best
for her own peace. Would it not be wiser, then,
that I should forbid them to ask this riddle?”
he added as though to himself and fell to thinking
while they trembled, seeing that he was minded to
refuse their suit.
At length he looked up again and said: “Nay,
let it go as God wills Who holds the future in His
hand. Nephews, because you are good knights and
true, either of whom would ward her well—and
she may need warding—because you are my
only brother’s sons, whom I have promised him
to care for; and most of all because I love you both
with an equal love, have your wish, and go try your
fortunes at the hands of my daughter Rosamund in the
fashion you have agreed. Godwin, the elder, first,
as is his right; then Wulf. Nay, no thanks; but
go swiftly, for I whose hours are short wish to learn
the answer to this riddle.”
So they bowed and went, walking side by side.
At the door of the hall, Wulf stopped and said:
“Rosamund is in the church. Seek her there,
and—oh! I would that I could wish
you good fortune; but, Godwin, I cannot. I fear
me that this may be the edge of that shadow of woman’s
love whereof you spoke, falling cold upon my heart.”
“There is no shadow; there is light, now and
always, as we have sworn that it should be,”
answered Godwin.
Twas past three in the afternoon, and snow clouds
were fast covering up the last grey gleam of the December
day, as Godwin, wishing that his road was longer,
walked to Steeple church across the meadow. At
the door of it he met the two serving women coming
out with brooms in their hands, and bearing between
them a great basket filled with broken meats and foul
rushes. Of them he asked if the Lady Rosamund
were still in the church, to which they answered,
curtseying:
