Then he whispered in her ear, “Sweet Rosamund, deny me not, lest you should drive me to madness and self-murder, who will have no more of earth without you.”

Now, her eyes full of tears and shining with love, Rosamund murmured back: 

“You are too strong for me.  Let it befall as God wills.”

Nor did the others attempt to stay him any more.

Going to the abbess, Rosamund would have knelt before her, but it was the abbess who knelt and called her blessed, and kissed her.  The sisters also kissed her one by one in farewell.  Then a priest was brought—­not the patriarch, of whom she would have none, but another, a holy man.

To him apart at the altar, first Rosamund and then Wulf made confession of their sins, receiving absolution and the sacrament in that form in which it was given to the dying; while, save the emirs, all in the church knelt and prayed as for souls that pass.

The solemn ritual was ended.  They rose, and, followed by two of the envoys—­for already the third had departed under escort to the court of Saladin to give him warning—­the queen, her ladies and all the company, walked from the church and through the convent halls out into the narrow Street of Woe.  Here Wulf, as her kinsman, took Rosamund by the hand, leading her as a man leads his sister to her bridal.  Without it was bright moonlight, moonlight clear as day, and by now tidings of this strange story had spread through all Jerusalem, so that its narrow streets were crowded with spectators, who stood also upon every roof and at every window.

“The lady Rosamund!” they shouted.  “The blessed Rosamund, who goes to a martyr’s death to save us.  The pure Saint Rosamund and her brave knight Wulf!” And they tore flowers and green leaves from the gardens and threw them in their path.

Down the long, winding streets, with bent heads and humble mien, companioned ever by the multitude, through which soldiers cleared the way, they walked thus, while women held up their children to touch the robe of Rosamund or to look upon her face.  At length the gate was reached, and while it was unbarred they halted.  Then came forward Sir Balian of Ibelin, bareheaded, and said: 

“Lady, on behalf of the people of Jerusalem and of the whole of Christendom, I give you honour and thanks, and to you also, Sir Wulf D’Arcy, the bravest and most faithful of all knights.”

A company of priests also, headed by a bishop, advanced chanting and swinging censers, and blessed them solemnly in the name of the Church and of Christ its Master.

“Give us not praise and thanks, but prayers,” answered Rosamund; “prayers that we may succeed in our mission, to which we gladly offer up our lives, and afterwards, when we are dead, prayers for the welfare of our sinful souls.  But should we fail, as it may chance, then remember of us only that we did our best.  Oh! good people, great sorrows have come upon this land, and the Cross of Christ is veiled with shame.  Yet it shall shine forth once more, and to it through the ages shall all men bow the knee.  Oh! may you live!  May no more death come among you!  It is our last petition, and with it, this—­that when at length you die we may meet again in heaven!  Now fare you well.”