Then Ralph caught her in his arms and kissed her, as if the fatal bride-ale had been but the day before.

So it came to pass that Ralph de Guader, with many of his vassals, joined the standard of the Duke of Normandy, and took his lady with him. With them went also Eadgyth of Norwich, faithful in all things, and unmarried still, having met no champion who could compass that in which her kinsman Leofric Ealdredsson had failed; her fair face still winsome, with its frame of soft yellow hair, and her blue eyes pathetic and serious.

In August 1096, De Guader led his knights to swell the great army of Crusaders then assembling on the banks of the Moselle, with Godfrey de Bouillon at its head, that 'very parfit gentil knight' and mirror of chivalry, whom all historians agree to praise, not only for spotless morals and untarnished honour and the high ideal he upheld before the face of the world, but for the 'consummate skill and patient perseverance, self-possession and presence of mind,' by which alone such a host of turbulent and independent chiefs as that which he commanded could have been led to victory.

As De Guader and his lady rode into the great camp beside the blue Moselle, a knight came forward to conduct them to the quarters which had been assigned to them. He had a worn ascetic face, seamed with scars and lighted by the large sombre eyes of a dreamer of day-dreams, his spare figure witnessing to a life of hard service and activity.

He met De Guader's lady with a sweet smile of reverence and recognition; but when he saw her companion, Eadgyth of Norwich, a flush passed over his bronzed cheeks and up into his forehead as far as it could be seen under his helm.

'Sir Aimand de Sourdeval!' cried Emma, with a quick movement of delight. 'Welcome the sight of thy brave, true face amidst this host of God.' Then she called back her husband, that he might pardon and be pardoned for what had happened in the old, sad days, and Ralph did so with the free, candid generosity of the times, which were saturated with the spirit we strive to keep alive in our public schools to this day—free fight and no malice borne.

Sir Aimand was one of Messire Godfrey's most trusted knights, whom the commander held in close attendance on his person; heart and soul in the Holy War, full of joy that so great a thing was going forward.

'You leave not wife or child by a lone hearthstone, Sir Knight?' asked Emma, feeling sure that the answer would be 'Nay.'

And 'Nay' it was. 'The lady of my choice would not have me, noble dame,' he answered in a low voice, scarcely daring to look at Eadgyth; 'a leal knight loves not twice.'

'But she will have thee now,' said Emma, and, taking Eadgyth's hand, she laid it in his. Nor did Eadgyth withdraw it.