"Well spoken," said his uncle, adding as though to himself, "this
man is courtly as he is brave."

Wulf looked up, a flash of merriment upon his open face.

"I, my uncle, whose speech is, I fear me, not courtly, thank you
also. I will add that I think our lady cousin here should be
knighted too, if such a thing were possible for a woman, seeing
that to swim a horse across Death Creek was a greater deed than
to fight some rascals on its quay."

"Rosamund?" answered the old man in the same dreamy voice. "Her
rank is high enough--too high, far too high for safety." And
turning, he left the little chamber.

"Well, cousin," said Wulf, "if you cannot be a knight, at least
you can lessen all this dangerous rank of yours by becoming a
knight's wife." Whereat Rosamund looked at him with indignation
which struggled with a smile in her dark eyes, and murmuring that
she must see to the making of Godwin's broth, followed her father
from the place.

"It would have been kinder had she told us that she was glad,"
said Wulf when she was gone.

"Perhaps she would," answered his brother, "had it not been for
your rough jests, Wulf, which might have a meaning in them."

"Nay, I had no meaning. Why should she not become a knight's