Then he began to unknot the silk which was bound about his box.  Wulf, knowing that it would tell all the tale, did not trouble himself as yet, but looked around the room, thinking that, whether he lived or died, never would he see a stranger sight.  Every eye in it was fixed upon the box in Godwin’s hand; even Saladin stared as though it held his own destiny.  No; not every one, for those of the old imaum were fixed upon the face of Rosamund, which was piteous to see, for all its beauty had left it, and even her parted lips were ashy.  Masouda alone still stood upright and unmoved, as though she watched some play, but he noted that her rich-hued cheek grew pale and that beneath her robe her hand was pressed upon her heart.  The silence also was intense, and broken only by the little grating noise of Godwin’s nails as, having no knife to cut it, he patiently untied the silk.

“Trouble enough about one man’s life in a land where lives are cheap!” exclaimed Wulf, thinking aloud, and at the sound of his voice all men started, as though it had thundered suddenly in a summer sky.  Then with a laugh he tore the silk about his box asunder with his strong fingers, and breaking the seal, shook out its contents.  Lo! there on the floor before him, gleaming green and white with emerald and diamond, lay the enchanted Star of Hassan.

Masouda saw, and the colour crept back to her cheek.  Rosamund saw also, and nature was too strong for her, for in one bitter cry the truth broke from her lips at last: 

“Not Wulf!  Not Wulf!” she wailed, and sank back senseless into Masouda’s arms.

“Now, sire,” said the old imaum with a chuckle, “you know which of those two the lady loves.  Being a woman, as usual she chooses badly, for the other has the finer spirit.”

“Yes, I know now,” said Saladin, “and I am glad to know, for the matter has vexed me much.”

But Wulf, who had paled for a moment, flushed with joy as the truth came home to him, and he understood the end of all their doubts.

“This Star is well named ‘The Luck,’” he said, as bending down he took it from the floor and fastened it to his cloak above his heart, “nor do I hold it dearly earned.”  Then he turned to his brother, who stood by him white and still, saying: 

“Forgive me, Godwin, but such is the fortune of love and war.  Grudge it not to me, for when I am sped tonight this Luck—­and all that hangs to it—­will be yours.”

So that strange scene ended.

The afternoon drew towards evening, and Godwin stood before Saladin in his private chamber.

“What seek you now?” said the Sultan sternly.

“A boon,” answered Godwin.  “My brother is doomed to die before nightfall.  I ask to die instead of him.”

“Why, Sir Godwin?”

“For two reasons, sire.  As you learned to-day, at length the riddle is answered.  It is Wulf who is beloved of the lady Rosamund, and therefore to kill him would be a crime.  Further, it is I and not he whom the eunuch heard bargaining with the captain Abdullah in the tent—­I swear it.  Take your vengeance upon me, and let him go to fulfil his fate.”