“We refuse,” answered Rosamund and Wulf with one voice. The Sultan bowed his head as though he expected no other answer, and glanced round, as all thought to order the executioners to do their office. But he said only to a captain of his Mameluks:
“Take them; keep them under guard and separate them, till my word of death comes to you. Your life shall answer for their safety. Give them food and drink, and let no harm touch them until I bid you.”
The Mameluk bowed and advanced with his company of soldiers. As they prepared to go with them, Rosamund asked:
“Tell me of your grace, what of Masouda, my friend?”
“She died for you; seek her beyond the grave,” answered Saladin, whereat Rosamund hid her face with her hands and sighed.
“And what of Godwin, my brother?” cried Wulf; but no answer was given him.
Now Rosamund turned; stretching out her arms towards Wulf, she fell upon his breast. There, then, in the presence of that countless army, they kissed their kiss of betrothal and farewell. They spoke no word, only ere she went Rosamund lifted her hand and pointed upwards to the sky.
Then a murmur rose from the multitude, and the sound of it seemed to shape itself into one word: “Mercy!”
Still Saladin made no sign, and they were led away to their prisons.
Among the thousands who watched this strange and most thrilling scene were two men wrapped in long cloaks, Godwin and the bishop Egbert. Thrice did Godwin strive to approach the throne. But it seemed that the soldiers about him had their commands, for they would not suffer him to stir or speak; and when, as Rosamund passed, he strove to break a way to her, they seized and held him. Yet as she went by he cried: