Ill fortune threatens us--great ill fortune." "That is no new thing," said Wulf, "in this land of blood and sorrows.

Let us meet it as we have met the rest." "Alas! brother," exclaimed Godwin, "I fear that Rosamund is in sore danger--Rosamund or another." "Then," answered Wulf, turning pale, "since we cannot, let us pray that some angel may deliver her." "Ay," said Godwin, and as they rode through the desert sands beneath the silent stars, they prayed to the Blessed Mother, and to their saints, St.Peter and St.Chad--prayed with all their strength.

Yet the prayer availed not.

Sharper and sharper grew Godwin's agony, till, as the slow hours went by, his very soul reeled beneath this spiritual pain, and the death which he had escaped seemed a thing desirable.
The dawn was breaking, and at its first sign the escort of Saladin's soldiers had turned and left them, saying that now they were safe in their own country.

All night they had ridden fast and far.