Godwin dreamed that he was dead, and that beneath him floated the world, a glowing ball, while he was borne to and fro through the blackness, stretched upon a couch of ebony.

There were bright watchers by his couch also, watchers twain, and he knew them for his guardian angels, given him at birth.

Moreover, now and again presences would come and question the watchers who sat at his head and foot.

One asked: "Has this soul sinned ?" And the angel at his head answered: "It has sinned." Again the voice asked: "Did it die shriven of its sins ?" The angel answered: "It died unshriven, red sword aloft, fighting a good fight." "Fighting for the Cross of Christ ?" "Nay; fighting for a woman." "Alas! poor soul, sinful and unshriven, who died fighting for a woman's love.

How shall such a one find mercy ?" wailed the questioning voice, growing ever fainter, till it was lost far, far away.
Now came another visitor.