oked up, and there, looming large in the mist, lay a
galley, anchored in the mouth of the river. Giving thanks to
Allah for their safe arrival, the band brought her aboard and led
her towards the cabin. On the poop stood a tall man, who was
commanding the sailors that they should get up the anchor. As she
came he advanced to her, bowing and saying:

"Lady Rosamund, thus you find me once more, who doubtless you
never thought to see again."

She looked at him in the faint light and her blood went cold. It
was the knight Lozelle.

"You here, Sir Hugh?" she gasped.

"Where you are, there I am," he answered, with a sneer upon his
coarse, handsome face. "Did I not swear that it should be so,
beauteous Rosamund, after your saintly cousin worsted me in the
fray?"

"You here?" she repeated, "you, a Christian knight, and in the
pay of Saladin!"

"In the pay of anyone who leads me to you, Rosamund." Then,
seeing the emir Hassan approach, he turned to give some orders to
the sailors, and she passed on to the cabin and in her agony fell
upon her knees.

When Rosamund rose from them she felt that the ship was moving,
and, desiring to look her last on Essex land, went out again upon
the poop, where Hassan and Sir Hugh placed themselves, one upon
either side of her. Then it was that she saw the tower of St.
Peter's-on-the-Wall and her cousins seated on horseback in front
of it, the light of the risen sun shining upon their mail. Also
she saw Wulf spur his horse into the sea, and faintly heard his
great cry of "Fear not! We follow, we follow!"

A thought came to her, and she sprang towards the bulwark; but
they were watching and held her, so that all that she could do
was to throw up her arms in token.

Now the wind caught the sail and the ship went forward swiftly,
so that soon she lost sight of them. Then in her grief and rage
Rosamund turned upon Sir Hugh Lozelle and beat him with bitter
words till he shrank before her.

"Coward and traitor!" she said. "So it was you who planned this,
knowing every secret of our home, where often you were a guest!
You who for Paynim gold have murdered my father, not daring to
show your face before his sword, but hanging like a thief upon
the coast, ready to receive what braver men had stolen. Oh! may
God avenge his blood and me on you, false knight--false to Him
and me and faith and honour--as avenge He will! Heard you not
what my kinsman called to me? 'We follow. We follow!' Yes, the