done she may lead us round some of them."

"You talk like a priest, not like a squire who is to be knighted
at the cost of a scar on his head. For my part I will kiss
Fortune while I may, and if she jilts me afterwards--"

"Wulf," called Rosamund from without the curtain, "cease
talking of kissing at the top of your voice, I pray you, and
leave Godwin to sleep, for he needs it." And she entered the
little chamber, bearing a bowl of broth in her hand.

Thereon, saying that ladies should not listen to what did not
concern them, Wulf seized his crutch and hobbled from the place.



Chapter Three: The Knighting of the Brethren

Another month had gone by, and though Godwin was still somewhat
weak and suffered from a headache at times, the brethren had
recovered from their wounds. On the last day of November, about
two o'clock in the afternoon, a great procession might have been
seen wending its way from the old Hall at Steeple. In it rode
many knights fully armed, before whom were borne their banners.
These went first. Then came old Sir Andrew D'Arcy, also fully
armed, attended by squires and retainers. He was accompanied by
his lovely daughter, the lady Rosamund, clad in beautiful apparel
under her cloak of fur, who rode at his right hand on that same
horse which had swum Death Creek. Next appeared the brethren,
modestly arrayed as simple gentlemen, followed each of them by