THE LORD OF DYNEVOR:

A Tale of the Times of Edward the First

by Evelyn Everett-Green. 

 CHAPTER I. DYNEVOR CASTLE. 

"La-ha-hoo! la-ha-hoo!"

Far down the widening valley, and up the wild, picturesque ravine, rangthe strange but not unmusical call. It awoke the slumbering echoes ofthe still place, and a hundred voices seemed to take up the cry, andpass it on as from mouth to mouth. But the boy's quick ears were not tobe deceived by the mocking voices of the spirits of solitude, andpresently the call rang out again with greater clearness than before:

"La-ha-hoo!"

The boy stood with his head thrown back, his fair curls floating in themountain breeze, his blue eyes, clear and bright and keen as those of awild eaglet, fixed upon a craggy ridge on the opposite side of thegorge, whilst his left hand was placed upon the collar of a hugewolfhound who stood beside him, sniffing the wind and showing by everytremulous movement his longing to be off and away, were it not for thedetaining hand of his young master. 

The lad was very simply dressed in a tunic of soft, well-dressedleather, upon the breast of which was stamped some device which mighthave been the badge of his house. His active limbs were encased in thesame strong, yielding material, and the only thing about him whichseemed to indicate rank or birth was a belt with a richly-chased goldclasp and a poniard with a jewelled hilt. 

Perhaps the noble bearing of the boy was his best proof of right to thenoble name he bore. One of the last of the royal house of Dynevor, helooked every inch a prince, as he stood bare-headed in the sunlightamidst the everlasting hills of his well-loved home, too young to seethe clouds which were settling so darkly and so surely upon the brighthorizon of his life -- his dreams still of glory and triumph, culminating in the complete emancipation of his well-loved country fromthe hated English yoke. 

The dog strained and whined against the detaining clasp upon his neck, but the boy held him fast. 

"Nay, Gelert, we are not going a-hunting, " he said. "Hark! is not thatthe sound of a horn? Are they not even now returning? Over yon fell theycome. Let me but hear their hail, and thou and I will be off to meetthem. I would they heard the news first from my lips. My mother bid mewarn them. I wot she fears what Llewelyn and Howel might say or do werethey to find English guests in our hall and they all unwarned. "

Once more the boy raised his voice in the wild call which had awakenedthe echoes before, and this time his practised ear distinguished amongstthe multitudinous replies an answering shout from human lips. ReleasingGelert, who dashed forward with a bay of delight, the lad commencedspringing from rock to rock up the narrowing gorge, until he reached aspot where the dwindling stream could be crossed by a bound; from whichspot a wild path, more like a goat track than one intended for the footof man, led upwards towards the higher portions of the wild fell. 

The boy sped onwards with the fleetness and agility of a bornmountaineer. The hound bounded at his side; and before either hadtraversed the path far, voices ahead of them became distinctly audible, and a little group might be seen approaching, laden with the spoils ofthe chase. 

In the van of the little party were three lads, one of whom bore sostriking a resemblance to the youth who now hastened to meet them, thatthe relationship could not be for a moment doubted. As a matter of factthe four were brothers; but they followed two distinct types -- Wendotand Griffeth being fair and bright haired, whilst Llewelyn and Howel(who were twins) were dark as night, with black hair and brows, swarthyskins, and something of the wildness of aspect which often accompaniessuch traits. 

Wendot, the eldest of the four, a well-grown youth of fifteen, who waswalking slightly in advance of his brothers, greeted Griffeth's approachwith a bright smile. 

"Ha, lad, thou shouldst have been with us! We have had rare sport today. The good fellows behind can scarce carry the booty home. Thou must seethe noble stag that my bolt brought down. We will have his head to adornthe hall -- his antlers are worth looking at, I warrant thee. But whatbrings thee out so far from home? and why didst thou hail us as if wewere wanted?"

"You are wanted, " answered Griffeth, speaking so that all the brothersmight hear his words. "The mother herself bid me go in search of you, and it is well you come home laden with meat, for we shall need to makemerry tonight. There are guests come to the castle today. Wenwynwyn wasstringing his harp even as I came away, to let them hear his skill inmusic. They are to be lodged for so long as they will stay; but themanner of their errand I know not. "

"Guests!" echoed all three brothers in a breath, and very eagerly; "why, that is good hearing, for perchance we may now learn some news. Comethese strangers from the north? Perchance we shall hear somewhat of ournoble Prince Llewelyn, who is standing out so boldly for the rights ofour nation. Say they not that the English tyrant is on our borders now, summoning him to pay the homage he repudiates with scorn? Oh, I wouldthat this were a message summoning all true Welshmen to take up arms inhis quarrel! Would not I fly to his standard, boy though I be! And wouldI not shed the last drop of my blood in the glorious cause of liberty!"

Llewelyn was the speaker, and his black eyes were glowing fiercely undertheir straight bushy brows. His face was the least boyish of any of thefour, and his supple, sinewy frame had much of the strength of manhoodin it. The free, open-air life that all these lads had lived, and thetraining they had received in all martial and hardy exercises, had giventhem strength and height beyond their years. It was no idle boast on thepart of Llewelyn to speak of his readiness to fight. He would havemarched against the foe with the stoutest of his father's men-at-arms, and doubtless have acquitted himself as well as any; for what the ladslacked in strength they made up in their marvellous quickness and agility. 

The love of fighting seemed born in all these hardy sons of Wales, andsomething of warfare was known to them even now, from the never-endingstruggles between themselves, and their resistance of the authority, real or assumed, of the Lords of the Marches. But petty forays andprivate feuds with hostile kinsmen was not the kind of fighting thesebrothers longed to see and share. They had their own ideas andaspirations, and eager glances were turned upon Griffeth, lest he mightbe the bearer of some glorious piece of news that would mean openwarfare with England. 

But the boy's face was unresponsive and even a little downcast. He gavea quick glance into the fierce, glowing face of Llewelyn, and then hiseyes turned upon Wendot. 

"There is no news like that, " he said slowly. "The guests who have cometo Dynevor are English themselves. "

"English!" echoed Llewelyn fiercely, and he turned away with a smotheredword which sounded like an imprecation upon all the race of foreigners;whilst Howel asked with quick indignation:

"What right have English guests at Dynevor? Why were they received? Whydid not our good fellows fall upon them with the sword or drive themback the way they came? Oh, if we had but been there --"

"Tush, brother!" said young Griffeth quickly; "is not our father lord ofDynevor? Dost think that thou canst usurp his authority? And when didever bold Welshmen fall upon unarmed strangers to smite with the sword?Do we make war upon harmless travellers -- women and children? Fie uponthee! it were a base thought. Let not our parents hear thee speak suchwords. "

Howel looked a little discomfited by his younger brother's rebuke, though he read nothing but sympathy and mute approbation in Llewelyn'ssullen face and gloomy eyes. He dropped a pace or so behind and joinedhis twin, whilst Wendot and Griffeth led the way in front. 

"Who are these folks?" asked Wendot; "and whence come they? And why havethey thus presented themselves unarmed at Dynevor? Is it an errand ofpeace? And why speakest thou of women and children?"

"Why, brother, because the traveller has his little daughter with him, and her woman is in their train of servants. I know not what has broughtthem hither, but I gather they have lost their road, and lighted bychance on Dynevor. Methinks they are on a visit to the Abbey of StrataFlorida; but at least they come as simple, unarmed strangers, and it isthe boast of Wales that even unarmed foes may travel through the breadthand length of the land and meet no harm from its sons. For my part Iwould have it always so. I would not wage war on all alike. Doubtlessthere are those, even amongst the English, who are men of bravery andhonour. "

"I doubt it not, " answered Wendot, with a gravity rather beyond hisyears. "If all our mother teaches us be true, we Welshmen have beenworse enemies to one another than ever the English have been. I wouldnot let Llewelyn or Howel hear me say so, and I would fain believe itnot. But when we see how this fair land has been torn and rent by thestruggles after land and power, and how our own kinsman, Meredith apRes, is toying with Edward, and striving to take from us the lands wehold yet -- so greatly diminished from the old portion claimed by thelords of Dynevor -- we cannot call the English our only or even ourgreatest foes. Ah, if Wales would but throw aside all her petty feuds, and join as brothers fighting shoulder to shoulder for her independence, then might there be some hope! But now --"

Griffeth was looking with wide-open, wondering eyes into his brother'sface. He loved and reverenced Wendot in a fashion that was remarkable, seeing that the elder brother was but two years and a half his senior. But Wendot had always been grave and thoughtful beyond his years, andhad been taken much into the counsels of his parents, so that questionswhich were almost new to the younger lad had been thought much of by theeldest, the heir of the house of Dynevor. 

"Why, brother, thou talkest like a veritable monk for learning, " hesaid. "I knew not thou hadst the gift of such eloquent speech. Methoughtit was the duty of every free-born son of Wales to hate the English tyrant. "

"Ay, and so I do when I think of his monstrous claims, " cried Wendotwith flashing eyes. "Who is the King of England that he should lay claimto our lands, our homage, our submission? My blood boils in my veinswhen I think of things thus. And yet there are moments when it seems thelesser ill to yield such homage to one whom the world praises asstatesman and soldier, than to see our land torn and distracted by pettyfeuds, and split up into a hundred hostile factions. But let us not talkfurther of this; it cuts me to the heart to think of it. Tell me more ofthese same travellers. How did our parents receive them? And how longpurpose they to stay?"

"Nay, that I have not heard. I was away over yon fell with Gelert when Isaw the company approach the castle, and ere I could find entrance thestrangers had been received and welcomed. The father of the maiden is anEnglish earl, Lord Montacute they call him. He is tall and soldier-like, with an air of command like unto our father's. The damsel is afair-faced maiden, who scarce opens her lips; but she keeps close to ourmother's side, and seems loath to leave her for a moment. I heard herfather say that she had no mother of her own. Her name, they say, isLady Gertrude. "

"A damsel at Dynevor, " said Wendot, with a smile; "methinks that willplease the mother well. "

"Come and see, " cried Griffeth eagerly. "Let us hasten down to thecastle together. "

It was easy work for the brothers to traverse the rocky pathway. Dangerous as the descent looked to others, they were as surefooted asyoung chamois, and sprang from rock to rock with the utmost confidence. The long summer sunlight came streaming up the valley in level rays ofshimmering gold, bathing the loftier crags in lambent fire, and fillingthe lower lands with layers of soft shadow flecked here and there withgold. A sudden turn in the narrow gorge, through which ran a brawlingtributary of the wider Towy, brought the brothers full in sight of theirancestral home, and for a few seconds they paused breathless, gazingwith an unspeakable and ardent love upon the fair scene before them. 

The castle of Dynevor (or Dinas Vawr = Great Palace) stood in acommanding position upon a rocky plateau overlooking the river Towy. From its size and splendour -- as splendour went in those days -- it hadlong been a favourite residence with the princes of South Wales; and ina recent readjustment of disputed lands, consequent upon the perpetualpetty strife that was ruining the land, Res Vychan, the present Lord ofDynevor, had made some considerable sacrifice in order to keep in hisown hands the fair palace of his fathers. 

The majestic pile stood out boldly from the mountain side, and wasapproached by a winding road from the valley. A mere glance showed howstrong was the position it occupied, and how difficult such a placewould be to capture. On two sides the rock fell away almost sheer fromthe castle walls, whilst on the other two a deep moat had been dug, which was fed by small mountain rivulets that never ran dry; and theentrance was commanded by a drawbridge, whose frowning portcullis waskept by a grim warder looking fully equal to the office allotted to him. 

Lovely views were commanded from the narrow windows of the castle, andfrom the battlements and the terraced walk that ran along two sides ofthe building. And rough and rude as were the manners and customs of theperiod, and partially uncivilized as the country was in those far-offdays, there was a strong vein of poetry lying latent in its sons anddaughters, and an ardent love for the beautiful in nature and for thecountry they called their own, which went far to redeem their naturesfrom mere savagery and brute ferocity. 

This passionate love for their home was strong in all the brothers ofthe house of Dynevor, and was deepened and intensified by the sense ofuncertainty now pervading the whole country with regard to foreignaggression and the ever-increasing claims upon Welsh lands by theEnglish invaders. A sense as of coming doom hung over the fairlandscape, and Wendot's eyes grew dreamy as he stood gazing on thefamiliar scene, and Griffeth had to touch his arm and hurry him down tothe castle. 

"Mother will be wanting us, " he said. "What is the matter, Wendot?Methinks I see the tears in thine eyes. "

"Nay, nay; tears are for women, " answered Wendot with glowing cheeks, ashe dashed his hand across his eyes. "It is for us men to fight for ourrightful inheritance, that the women may not have to weep for theirdesolated homes. "

Griffeth gave him a quick look, and then his eyes travelled lovinglyover the wide, fair scene, to the purple shadows and curling mists ofthe valley, the dark mysterious woods in front, the clear, vividsunlight on the mountain tops, and the serried battlements of thecastle, now rising into larger proportions as the boys dropped down thehillside towards the postern door, which led out upon the wild fell. There was something of mute wistfulness in his own gaze as he did so. 

"Brother, " he said thoughtfully, "I think I know what those feelings arewhich bring tears to the eyes of men -- tears of which they need feel noshame. Fear not to share with me all thy inmost thoughts. Have we notever been brothers in all things?"

"Ay, truly have we; and I would keep nothing back, only I scarce knowhow to frame my lips to give utterance to the thoughts which comecrowding into my brain. But see, we have no time for communing now. Goon up the path to the postern; it is too narrow for company. "

Indeed, so narrow was the track, so steep the uncertain steps worn inthe face of the rock, so deep the fall if one false step were made, thatfew save the brothers and wilder mountaineers ever sought admission bythe postern door. But Wendot and Griffeth had no fears, and quicklyscaled the steps and reached the entrance, passing through which theyfound themselves in a narrow vaulted passage, very dark, which led, withmany twists and turns, and several ascending stairs, to the great hallof the castle, where the members of the household were accustomed forthe most part to assemble. 

A door deeply set in an embrasure gave access to this place, and themoment it was opened the sound of a harp became audible, and thebrothers paused in the deep shadow to observe what was going on in thehall before they advanced further. 

A scene that would be strange and picturesque to our eyes, but was inthe main familiar to theirs, greeted them as they stood thus. The castlehall was a huge place, large enough to contain a muster of armed men. Agreat stone staircase wound upwards from it to a gallery above. Therewas little furniture to be seen, and that was of a rude kind, though notlacking in a certain massiveness and richness in the matter of carving, which gave something baronial to the air of the place. The walls wereadorned with trophies of all sorts, some composed of arms, others of thespoil of fell and forest. The skins of many savage beasts lay upon thecold stone flooring of the place, imparting warmth and harmony by therich tints of the furs. Light was admitted through a row of narrowwindows both above and below; but the vast place would have been dim anddark at this hour had it not been that the huge double doors with theirrude massive bolts stood wide open to the summer air, and the last beamsof the westering sun came shining in, lying level and warm upon thegroup at the upper end of the hall, which had gathered around thewhite-haired, white-bearded bard, who, with head thrown backwards, andeyes alight with strange passions and feelings, was singing in a deepand musical voice to the sound of his instrument. 

Old Wenwynwyn was a study in himself; his flowing hair, his fiery eyes, his picturesque garb and free, untrammelled gestures giving him a weirdindividuality of his own. But it was not upon him that the eyes of thebrothers dwelt, nor even upon the soldier-like figure of their stalwartfather leaning against the wall with folded arms, and eyes shining withthe patriotic fervour of his race. The attention of the lads wasenchained by another and more sumptuous figure --that of a fine-lookingman, approaching to middle life, who was seated at a little distancefrom the minstrel, and was smiling with pleasure and appreciation at thewild sweetness of the stream of melody poured forth. 

One glance at the dress of the stranger would have been enough to tellthe brothers his nationality. His under tunic, which reached almost tothe feet, was of the finest cloth, and was embroidered along the lowerborder with gold thread. The sur-tunic was also richly embroidered; andthe heavy mantle clasped upon the shoulder with a rare jewel was of somerich texture almost unknown to the boys. The make and set of hisgarments, and the jewelled and plumed cap which he held upon his knee, alike proclaimed him to be English; yet as he gazed upon the noble face, and looked into the clear depths of the calm and fearless eyes, Wendotfelt no hostility towards the representative of the hostile race, butrather a sort of reluctant admiration. 

"In faith he looks born to command, " he whispered to Griffeth. "If allwere like unto him --"

But the lad did not complete the sentence, for he had suddenly caughtsight of another figure, another face, and he stopped short in a sort ofbewildered amaze. 

In Dynevor Castle there had never been a girl child to share the honourswith her brothers. No sister had played in its halls, or tyrannized overthe lads or their parents. And now when Wendot's glance fell for thefirst time upon this little fairy-like creature, this lovely littlegolden-haired, blue-eyed maiden, he felt a new sensation enter his life, and gazed as wonderingly at the apparition as if the child had been a ghost. 

And the soft shy eyes, with their fringe of dark lashes, were lookingstraight at him. As he gazed the child suddenly rose, and darted towardsthe brothers as if she had wings on her feet. 

"Oh, you have come back!" she said, looking from one to the other, andfor a moment seeming puzzled by the likeness; "and -- why, there are twoof you, " and the child broke into the merriest and silveriest of laughs. "Oh, I am so glad! I do like boys so much, and I never have any to playwith at home. I am so tired of this old man and his harp. Please let mego somewhere with you, " and she thrust her soft little hand confidinglyinto Wendot's, looking up saucily into his face as she added, "You arethe biggest; I like you the best. "

Wendot's face glowed; but on the whole he was flattered by the attentionand the preference of the little maiden. He understood her soft Englishspeech perfectly, for all the Dynevor brothers had been instructed inthe English tongue by an English monk who had long lived at the castle. Res Vychan, the present Lord of Dynevor, foresaw, and had foreseen manyyears, the gradual usurpation of the English, and had considered that aknowledge of that tongue would in all probability be an advantage tothose who were likely to be involved in the coming struggle. The boysall possessed the quick musical ear of their race, and found nodifficulty in mastering the language; but neither Llewelyn nor Howelwould ever speak a single word of the hated tongue if they could helpit, though Wendot and Griffeth conversed often with the old monk rightwillingly. 

So as Wendot looked down into the bright little upturned face, he wasable to reply readily and smilingly:

"Where would you like to go, little lady, and what would you like me toshow you?"

"Oh, everything -- all out there, " said the little girl, with a wave ofher hand towards the front door. "I want to go and see the sun. I amtired of it in here. "

Wendot led the child through the hall, and out upon the great terracewhich overlooked the steep descent to the valley and away to the glowingwest. Griffeth followed, glad that his elder brother had been preferredbefore himself by the little maiden, yet half fascinated by her namelesscharm. Wendot lifted her up in his strong arms to see over the widestone balustrade, and she made him set her down there and perch himselfby her side; for she seemed loath to go back to the hall again, and theboys were as willing as she to remain out in the open air. 

"It is pretty here, " said the child graciously; "I think I should liketo live here sometimes, if it was always summer. Tell me your name, bigboy. I hope it is not very hard. Some people here have names I cannotspeak right. "

"They call me Res Wendot, " answered the lad; "generally Wendot at homehere. This is Griffeth, my youngest brother. Those are not hard names, are they?"

"No, not very. And how old are you, Wendot?"

"I am fifteen. "

"Oh, how big you are!" said the little lady, opening her eyes wide; "Ithought you must be much older than that. I am twelve, and you can liftme up in your arms. But then I always was so little -- they all say so. "

"Yet you travel about with your father, " said Wendot. 

"I never did before; but this time I begged, and he took me. Sometimeshe says he shall have to put me in a nunnery, because he has nobody totake care of me when he has to travel about. But I don't think I shouldlike that; I would rather stay here. "

Wendot and Griffeth laughed; but the child was not at all disconcerted. She was remarkably self possessed for her years, even if she was smallof stature and infantile in appearance. 

"What is your name?" asked Wendot; and the little maid answered, withbecoming gravity and importance:

"I am called Lady Gertrude Cherleton; but you may call me Gertrude ifyou like, because you are kind and I like you. Are there any more ofyou? Have you any sisters?"

"No; only two brothers. "

"More brothers! and what are their names?"

"Llewelyn and Howel. "

"Llewelyn? Why, that is the name of the Prince of North Wales that theking is going to fight against and conquer. Do you think when he hasdone so that he will come here and conquer you, too?"

Wendot's cheek burned a sudden red; but he made no reply, for at thatmoment a head suddenly appeared round an angle of the wall, and a heavygrip was laid upon the shoulder of the child. A wild face and a pair offlashing black eyes were brought into close proximity with hers, and asmothered voice spoke in fierce, low accents. 

 CHAPTER II. THE BROTHERS

"What is that you dare to say?"

The voice was harsh, the words were spoken with a rough accent, unlikethe gentler tones of Wendot and Griffeth. The child uttered a little cryand shrank back away from the grip of the strong hand, and might havebeen in some danger of losing her balance and of falling over thebalustrade, had not Wendot thrown a protecting arm round her, whilstpushing back with the other hand that of the rude interloper. 

"Llewelyn! for shame!" he said in his own tongue. "Art thou a man, andclaimest the blood of princes, and yet canst stoop to frighten aninoffensive child?"

"She spoke of conquest -- the conquest of our country, " cried Llewelynfiercely, in the hated English tongue, scowling darkly at the littlegirl as he spoke. "Thinkest thou that I will stand patiently by and hearsuch words? What right hath she or any one besides to speak of thattyrant and usurper in such tones?"

"He is not a tyrant, he is not a usurper!" cried the little LadyGertrude, recovering herself quickly, and, whilst still holding Wendotby the hand, turning fearlessly upon the dark-faced lad who had startledand terrified her at the first. "I know of whom you are speaking -- itis of our great and noble King Edward. You do not know him -- you cannotknow how great and good he is. I will not hear you speak against him. Ilove him next best to my own father. He is kind and good to everybody. If you would all give your homage to him you would be happy and safe, and he would protect you, and --"

But Llewelyn's patience was exhausted; he would listen no more. With afierce gesture of hatred that made the child shrink back again he turnedupon her, and it seemed for a moment almost as though he would havestruck her, despite Wendot's sturdy protecting arm, had not his ownshoulder been suddenly grasped by an iron hand, and he himselfconfronted by the stern countenance of his father. 

"What means this, boy?" asked Res Vychan severely. "Art thou daring toraise thine arm against a child, a lady, and thy father's guest? Forshame! I blush for thee. Ask pardon instantly of the lady and of herfather. I will have no such dealings in mine house. Thou shouldst bewell assured of that. "

The black-browed boy was crimson with rage and shame, but there was noyielding in the haughty face. He confronted his father with flashingeyes, and as he did so he met the keen, grave glance of the stranger'sfixed upon him with a calm scrutiny which aroused his fiercest rage. 

"I will not ask pardon, " he shouted. "I will not degrade my tongue byuttering such words. I will not --"

The father's hand descended heavily upon his son's head, in a blow whichwould have stunned a lad less hardy and hard-headed. Res Vychan was notone to be defied with impunity by his own sons, and he had had hardencounters of will before now with Llewelyn. 

"Choose, boy, " he said with brief sternness. "Either do my will and obeyme, or thou wilt remain a close prisoner till thou hast come to thysenses. My guests shall not be insulted by thy forward tongue. Barbarousand wild as the English love to call us, they shall find that Res Vychanis not ignorant of those laws which govern the world in which they liveand move. Ask pardon of the lady, or to the dungeon thou goest. "

Llewelyn glanced up into his father's face, and saw no yielding there. Howel was making vehement signs to him which he and he alone couldinterpret. His other brothers were eagerly gazing at him, and Griffetheven went so for as to murmur into his ear some words of entreaty. 

It seemed as though the silence which followed Res Vychan's words wouldnever be broken, but at last the culprit spoke, and spoke in a low, sullen tone. 

"I meant no harm. I would not have hurt her. "

"Ask her pardon then, boy, and tell her so. "

"Nay, force him no more, " said the little lady, who was regarding thiscurious scene with lively interest, and who began to feel sorry for thedark wild boy who had frightened her by his vehemence before; "I was toblame myself. I should not have spoken as I did. 

"Father, tell them how my tongue is always running away with me. Hastnot thou told me a hundred times that it would get me into trouble oneof these days? It is right that he should love his country. Do not thinkill of him for that. "

"Ay, let the lad go now, good friend, " quoth Lord Montacute. "No doubtthis little witch of mine was at the bottom of the mischief. Her tongue, as she truly says, is a restless and mischievous possession. She hasfound a stanch protector at least, and will come to no harm amongst thystalwart lads. I could envy thee such a double brace of boys. I would ithad pleased Providence to send me a son. "

"Nay, father, say not so, " cried little Lady Gertrude coaxingly. "Iwould not have a brother for all the world. Thou wouldst love him sowell, if thou hadst him, that thou wouldst have none to spare for thymaid. I have seen how it ever is. I love to have all thy heart for mineown. "

The father smiled, but Res Vychan's face was still severe, and he hadnot loosed his clasp upon Llewelyn's arm. 

"Say that thou art sorry ere I let thee go, " he said, in low but verystern tones; and after a moment's hesitation, Llewelyn spoke in audibletones. 

"I am sorry, " he said slowly; "I am sorry. "

And then as his father's clasp upon his arm relaxed he darted away likean arrow from the bow, and plunged with Howel through a dark and gloomydoorway which led up a winding turret stair to a narrow circularchamber, which the brothers shared together. 

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he panted fiercely; "ay, that indeed I am. Sorrythat I did not wring her neck as the fowler wrings the neck of the birdhis shaft hath brought down; sorry I did not cast her headlong down thesteep precipice, that there might be one less of the hated racecontaminating the air of our pure Wales with their poisonous breath. Sorry! ay, that I am! I would my hand had done a deed which should haveset proud Edward's forces in battle array against us. I would that thistampering with traitors were at an end, and that we warriors of SouthWales might stand shoulder to shoulder, firmly banded against theforeign foe. I would plunge a dagger in the false heart of yon proudEnglishman as he lies sleeping in his bed tonight, if by doing so Icould set light to the smouldering flame of national hatred. 

"What sayest thou? Can we do nought to bring upon us an open war, whichis a thousand times better than this treacherous, hollow peace? Ourfather and mother are half won over to the cause of slavery. They --"

Llewelyn paused, choking back the fierce tide of passion which went farto unman him. He had not forgotten the humiliation placed upon him sorecently, when his father had compelled him to sue for pardon to anEnglish maiden. His heart was burning, his soul was stirred to itsdepths. He had to stop short lest his passion should carry him away. 

Howel seemed to understand him without the medium of words. The linkswhich bound the twin brothers together were very subtle and very strong. If Llewelyn were the more violent and headstrong, Howel was more thanhis equal in diplomacy. He shared every feeling of his brother's heart, but he was less outspoken and less rash. 

"I know what thou wouldst do, " he said thoughtfully: "thou wouldst forceupon our father a step which shall make a rupture with the Englishinevitable. Thou wouldst do a thing which should bring upon us the wrathof the mighty Edward, and force both ourselves and our neighbours totake arms against him. Is not that so?"

"Ay, truly; and could such a thing be, gladly would I lay down my lifein the cause of liberty and freedom. "

Howel was pondering deeply. 

"Perchance it might be done, " he said. 

Llewelyn eagerly raised his head. 

"Thinkest thou so? How?"

"I know not yet, but we shall have time for thought. Knowest thou thatthe maid will remain here beneath our mother's charge for a while, whilst our father goes forward as far as the Abbey of Strata Floridawith yon stranger, to guide him on his way? The maid will remain hereuntil her father's return. "

"How knowest thou that?"

"I had it from Wenwynwyn's lips. He heard the discussion in the hall, and it seems that this Lord Montacute would be glad to be free of thecare of the child for a while. Our mother delights in the charge of alittle maid, and thus it will be as I have said. "

A strange fire gleamed in Llewelyn's eyes. The brothers looked at eachother a good while in silence. 

"And thou thinkest --" said Llewelyn at last. 

Howel was some time in replying, and his answer was a littleindeterminate, although sufficiently significant. 

"Why, the maid will be left here; but when her father returns to claimher, perchance she will not be found. If that were so, thinkest thou notthat nought but open war would lie before us?"

Llewelyn's eyes glowed. He said not a word, and the darkness gatheredround the boys in the narrow chamber. They thought not of descending orof asking for food, even after their day's hunting in the hills. Theywere hardy, and seasoned to abstemious ways, and had no room forthoughts of such a kind. Silence was settling down upon the castle, andthey had no intention of leaving their room again that night. Darkthoughts were their companions as they undressed and made ready for bed;and hardly were they settled there before the door opened, and the oldbard Wenwynwyn entered. 

This old man was almost like a father to these boys, and Llewelyn andHowel were particularly attached to him and he to them. He shared to thefull their ardent love for their country and their untempered hatred ofthe English race. He saw, as they did, nothing but ill in thetemporizing attitude now to be found amongst the smaller Welshchieftains with regard to the claims made by the English monarch; andmuch of the fierce hostility to be found in the boys had been the resultof the lessons instilled into their mind by the wild-eyed, passionateold bard, one of the last of a doomed race. 

"Wenwynwyn, is it thou?"

"Ay, boys, it is I. You did well to abstain from sitting at meat withthe stranger tonight. The meat went nigh to choke me that was swallowedin his presence. "

"How long stays he, contaminating our pure air?"

"He himself is off by sunrise tomorrow, and Res Vychan goes with him. Heleaves behind the little maid in the care of thy mother. "

A strange smile crossed the face of the old man, invisible in the darkness. 

"Strange for the parent bird to leave the dove in the nest of the hawk-- the eyry of the eagle. "

"Ha!" quoth Llewelyn quickly, "that thought hath likewise come to thee, good Wenwynwyn. "

The old man made no direct response, but went on speaking in low even tones. 

"The maid has dwelt in the household of the great king. She has playedwith his children, been the companion of the young princesses. She isbeloved of them and of the monarch and his wife. Let them but hear thatshe is lost in the fastness of Dynevor, and the royal Edward will marchin person to her rescue. All the country will rise in arms to defenditself. The north will join with the south, and Wales will shake off thehated foreign yoke banded as one man against the foreign foe. "

The boys listened spellbound. They had often talked together of somestep which might kindle the conflagration, but had never yet seen theoccasion. Hot-headed, rash, reckless as were the youths; wild, tameless, and fearless as was the ancient bard; they had still been unable to hitupon any device which might set a light to the train. Discontent andresentment were rife all over the country, but it was the fashion ratherto temporize with the invader than to defy him. There was a strong partygathering in the country whose policy was that of paying homage toEdward and retaining their lands under his protection and countenance, as being more truly patriotic and farsighted than continuing the oldstruggle for supremacy among themselves. This was a policy utterlyincomprehensible both to the boys and the old man, and stirred the bloodof the lads to boiling pitch. 

"What can we do?" asked Llewelyn hoarsely. 

"I will tell you, " whispered the old man, approaching close to the bedwhereon the brothers lay wide-eyed and broad awake. "This very night Ileave the castle by the postern door, and in the moonlight I make my wayto the commot of Llanymddyvri, where dwells that bold patriot Maelgon apCaradoc. To him I tell all, and he will risk everything in the cause. Itwill be very simply done. You boys must feign a while -- must feignfriendship for the maid thus left behind. Your brothers have won herheart already; you must not be behind them. The dove must have no fearof the young eaglets. She has a high courage of her own; she lovesadventure and frolic; she will long to stretch her wings, and wanderamid the mountain heights, under the stanch protection of her comradesof Dynevor. 

"Then listen, boys. The day will come when the thing is to be done. Insome of the wild fastnesses of the upper Towy will be lurking the boldbands of Maelgon ap Caradoc. Thither you must lead the unsuspiciousmaid, first by some device getting rid of your brothers, who might tryto thwart the scheme. These bold fellows will carry off the maid to thesafe keeping of Maelgon, and once let her be his prisoner, there is nofear of her escaping from his hands. Edward himself and all his forcesat his back will scarce wrest away the prize, and the whole country willbe united and in arms ere it suffer the tyrant to march through our fairvales. "

Whilst within this upper turret chamber this plot was being concoctedagainst the innocent child by two passionate, hot-headed boys and one ofthe ancient race of bards, the little maiden was herself sleepingsoundly and peacefully within a small inner closet, close to the roomwhere Gladys, the lady of the castle, reposed; and with the earlieststreak of dawn, when the child opened her eyes upon the strange barewalls of the Welsh stronghold, the first thing that met her eyes was thesweet and gentle face of the chatelaine bending tenderly over her. 

Although the present lady of Dynevor was the sister of the bold andfierce Llewelyn, Prince of North Wales, who gave more trouble to theKing of England than did anybody else, she was herself of a gentle andthoughtful disposition, more inclined to advocate peace than war, andmore far-seeing, temperate, and well-informed than most persons of hertime, and especially than the women, who for the most part had but veryvague ideas as to what was going on in the country. 

She had had many thoughts herself during the still hours of this summernight, and when she bent over the sleeping child and wakened her by akiss, she felt a strange tenderness towards her, which seemed to bereciprocated by the little one, who suddenly flung her arms about herneck and kissed her passionately. 

"Is my father gone?" she asked, recollection coming back. 

"Not gone, but going soon, " answered the Lady of Dynevor, smiling; "thatis why I have come to waken thee early, little Gertrude, that thoumayest receive his farewell kiss and see him ride away. Thou wilt not begrieved to be left with us for a while, little one? Thou wilt not pinein his absence?"

"Not if I have you to take care of me, " answered the child confidingly-- "you and Wendot and Griffeth. I am weary of always travelling onrough roads. I will gladly stay here a while with you. "

There was the bustle of preparation going on in the hall when the ladydescended with the child hanging on to her hand. Gertrude broke away andran to her father, who was sitting at the board, with Wendot standingbeside him listening eagerly to his talk. The boy's handsome face wasalight, and he seemed full of eager interest in what was being said. Lord Montacute frequently raised his head and gave the lad a look ofkeen scrutiny. Even whilst caressing his little daughter his interestseemed to be centred in Wendot, and when at parting the lad held hisstirrup for him, and gently restrained little Gertrude, who was indanger of being trampled on by the pawing charger, Lord Montacute lookedfor a moment very intently at the pair, and then let his glance wanderfor a moment over the grand fortress of Dynevor and the beautiful valleyit commanded. 

Then he turned once more to Wendot with a kindly though penetrating smile. 

"In the absence of your father, Wendot, you are the master and guardianof this castle, its occupants and its treasures. I render my littledaughter into your safe keeping. Of your hands I shall ask her back whenI return in a week's time. "

Wendot flushed with pleasure and gratification. What boy does not likethe thought of being looked upon as his father's substitute? He raisedhis head with a gesture of pride, and clasped the little soft hand ofGertrude more closely in his. 

"I will take the trust, Lord Montacute, " he said. "I will hold myselfresponsible for the safety of Lady Gertrude. At my hands demand her whenyou return. If she is not safe and well, take my life as the forfeit. "

Lord Montacute smiled slightly at the manly words and bearing of thelad, but he did not like him the less for either. As for littleGertrude, she gazed up into the bold bright face of Wendot, and claspinghis hand in hers, she said:

"Am I to belong to you now? I think I shall like that, you are so braveand so kind to me. "

The father gave the pair another of his keen looks, and rode off in thebright morning sunshine, promising not to be very long away. 

"I shan't fret, now that I have you and the Lady of Dynevor, " said thechild confidingly to Wendot. "I've often been left for a long time atthe palace with the ladies Eleanor and Joanna, and with Alphonso andBritton, but I shall like this much better. There is no governess here, and we can do as we like. I want to know everything you do, and goeverywhere with you. "

Wendot promised to show the little lady everything she wanted, and ledher in to breakfast, which was a very important meal in those days. Allthe four brothers were gathered at the board, and the child lookedrather shyly at the dark-browed twins, whom she hardly knew one from theother, and whom she regarded with a certain amount of awe. But there wasnothing hostile in the manner of any of the party. Llewelyn was silent, but when he did speak it was in very different tones from those of lastnight; and Howel was almost brilliant in his sallies, and evoked many apeal of laughter from the lighthearted little maiden. Partings with herfather were of too common occurrence to cause her much distress, and shewas too well used to strange places to feel lost in these newsurroundings, and she had her own nurse and attendant left with her. 

Full of natural curiosity, the child was eager to see everything ofinterest near her temporary home, and the brothers were her very devotedservants, taking her everywhere she wished to go, helping her over everydifficult place, and teaching her to have such confidence in them, andsuch trust in their guidance, that she soon ceased to feel fear howeverwild was the ascent or descent, however lonely the region in which shefound herself. 

Although Wendot continued her favourite, and Griffeth stood next, owingto his likeness to his eldest brother, the twins soon won her favouralso. They were in some respects more interesting, as they were lesseasily understood, wilder and stranger in their ways, and always full ofstories of adventure and warfare, which fascinated her imagination evenwhen she knew that they spoke of the strife between England and Wales. She had a high spirit and a love of adventure, which association withthese stalwart boys rapidly developed. 

One thing about Llewelyn and Howel gratified her childlike vanity, andgave her considerable pleasure. They would praise her agility andcourage, and urge her on to make trial of her strength and nerve, whenthe more careful Wendot would beg her to be careful and not risk herselfby too great recklessness. A few days spent in this pure, free airseemed to infuse new life into her frame, and the colour in her cheeksand the light in her eyes deepened day by day, to the motherlysatisfaction of the Lady of Dynevor and the pride of Wendot, whoregarded the child as his especial charge. 

But in his father's absence many duties fell upon Wendot, and there camea bright evening when he and Griffeth were occupied about the castle, and only Llewelyn and Howel had leisure to wander with the little guestto her favourite spot to see the red sun set. 

Llewelyn was full of talk that evening, and spoke with a rude eloquenceand fire that always riveted the attention of the child. He told of thewild, lonely beauty of a certain mountain peak which he pointed out upthe valley, of the weird charm of the road thither, and above all of theeagle's nest which was to be found there, and the young eaglets beingnow reared therein, which he and Howel meant to capture and keep astheir own, and which they purposed to visit the very next day to see ifthey were fit yet to leave the nest. 

Gertrude sat entranced as the boy talked, and when she heard of theeagle's nest she gave a little cry of delight. 

"O Llewelyn, take me with you. Let me see the eagle's nest and thelittle eaglets. "

But the boy shook his head doubtfully. 

"You could not get as far. It is a long way, and a very rough walk. "

The child shook back her curling hair defiantly. 

"I could do it! I know I could. I could go half the way on my palfrey, and walk the rest. You would help me. You know how well I can climb. Oh, do take me -- do take me! I should so love to see an eagle's nest. "

But still Llewelyn shook his head. 

"Wendot would not let you go; he would say it was too dangerous. "

Again came the little defiant toss. 

"I am not Wendot's slave; I can do as I choose. "

"If he finds out he will stop you. "

"But we need not tell him, need we?"

"I thought you always told him everything. "

The child stamped her little foot. 

"I tell him things generally, but I can keep a secret. If he would stopus from going, we will not tell him, nor Griffeth either. We will get upvery early and go by ourselves. We could do that, could we not, and comeback with the young eaglets in our hands? O let us go! let us do itsoon, and take me with you, kind Llewelyn! Indeed I shall not be in yourway. I will be very good. And you know you have taught me to climb sowell. I know I can go where you can go. You said so yourself once. "

Llewelyn turned his head away to conceal a smile half of triumph, halfof contempt. A strange flash was in his eyes as he looked up the valleytowards the crag upon which he had told the child the eyry of the eagleshung. She thought he was hesitating still, and laid a soft little handupon his arm. 

"Please say that I may go. "

He turned quickly and looked at her. For a moment she shrank back fromthe strange glow in his eyes; but her spirit rose again, and she saidrather haughtily: "You need not be angry with me. If you don't wish meto come I will stay at home with Wendot. I do not choose to ask favoursof anybody if they will not give them readily. "

"I should like to take you if it would be safe, " answered Llewelyn, speaking as if ashamed of his petulance or reluctance. 

"Howel, could she climb to the crag where we can look down upon the eyryif we helped her up the worst places?"

"I think she could. "

The child's face flushed; she clasped her hands together and listenedeagerly whilst the brothers discussed the plan which in the end wasagreed to -- a very early start secretly from the castle before the daydawned, the chief point to be observed beforehand being absolutesecrecy, so that the projected expedition should not reach the earseither of Wendot, his mother, or Griffeth. It was to be carried outentirely by the twins themselves, with Gertrude as their companion. 

 CHAPTER III. THE EAGLE'S CRAG. 

"Where is the maid, mother?"

"Nay, I know not, my son. I thought she was with thee. "

"I have not seen her anywhere. I have been busy with the men. "

"Where are the other boys?"

"That I know not either. I have seen none since I rose this morning. Ihave been busy. "

"The maid had risen and dressed herself, and had slipped out betimes, "said the Lady of Dynevor, as she took her place at the board. "Methoughtshe would be with thee. She is a veritable sprite for flitting hitherand thither after thee. Doubtless she is with some of the others. Whoknows where the boys have gone this morning? They are not wont to beabsent at the breakfast hour. "

This last question was addressed to the servants who were at the lowerend of the board, and one of them spoke up in reply. By what he said itappeared that Griffeth had started off early to fly a new falcon of his, and it seemed probable that his brothers and little Lady Gertrude hadaccompanied him; for whilst he had been discussing with the falconer thebest place for making the proposed trial, Llewelyn had been to thestables and had saddled and led out the palfrey upon which their littleguest habitually rode, and there seemed no reason to doubt that all theparty had gone somewhere up upon the highlands to watch the maiden essayof the bird. 

"She would be sure to long to see the trial, " said Wendot, attacking theviands before him with a hearty appetite. "She always loves to go withus when there is anything to see or hear. I marvel that she spoke not ofit to me, but perchance it slipped her memory. "

The early risers were late at the meal, but no one was anxious aboutthem. When anything so engrossing as the flying of a young falcon was inthe wind, it was natural that so sublunary a matter as breakfast shouldbe forgotten. The servants had finished their meal, and had left thetable before there was any sign of the return of the wanderers, and thenit was only Griffeth who came bounding in, his face flushed and his eyesshining as he caressed the hooded bird upon his wrist. 

"He is a beauty, Wendot. I would thou hadst been there to see. I tookhim up to --"

"Ay, tell us all that when thou hast had something to eat, " said Wendot. "And where is Gertrude? she must be well-nigh famished by this time. "

"Gertrude? Nay, I know not. I have not seen her. I would not havewearied her with such a tramp through the heavy dews. "

"But she had her palfrey; Llewelyn led it away ere it was well light. Were you not all together?"

"Nay, I was all alone. Llewelyn and Howel were off and away before I wasready; for when I sought them to ask if they would come, they werenowhere to be found. As for the maid, I never thought of her. Where canthey have taken her so early?"

A sudden look of anxiety crossed Wendot's face; but he repressed anyexclamation of dismay, and glanced at his mother to see if by any chanceshe shared his feeling. But her face was calm and placid, and she saidcomposedly:

"If she is with Llewelyn and Howel she will be safe. They have taken heron some expedition in secret, but none will harm her with two such stoutprotectors as they. "

And then the lady moved away to commence her round of household duties, which in those days was no sinecure; whilst Wendot stood in the midst ofthe great hall with a strange shadow upon his face. Griffeth, who waseagerly discussing his breakfast, looked wonderingly at him. 

"Brother, what ails thee?" he said at length; "thou seemest ill at ease. "

"I am ill at ease, " answered Wendot, and with a quick glance round himto assure himself that there was no one by to hear, he approachedGriffeth with hasty steps and sat down beside him, speaking in a low, rapid way and in English, "Griffeth, tell me, didst thou hear aught lastnight ere thou fell asleep?"

"Ay, I heard Wenwynwyn singing to his harp in his own chamber, butnought beside. "

"I heard that too, " said Wendot, "and for his singing I could not sleep;so when it ceased not, I rose and stole to his room to ask him toforbear, yet so wild and strange was the song he sang that at the door Ipaused to listen; and what thinkest thou was the burden that he sang?"

"Nay, I know not; tell me. "

"He sang a strange song that I have never heard before, of how a dovewas borne from safe shelter -- a young dove in the absence of the fatherbird; not the mother bird, but the father -- and carried away to theeagle's nest by two fierce young eaglets untamed and untamable, there tobe left till the kites come down to carry off the prize. 

"Ha! thou startest and changest colour! What is it thou fearest? Whereare Llewelyn and Howell and what have they done with the maid? Whatkuowest thou, Griffeth?"

"I know nought, " answered Griffeth, "save that Wenwynwyn has been up tothe commot of Llanymddyvri, and thou knowest what all they of that placefeel towards the English. Then Llewelyn and Howel have been talking oflate of the eagle's nest on the crag halfway thither, and if they hadnamed it to Gertrude she would have been wild to go and see it. We knowwhen Wenwynwyn sings his songs how he ever calls Maelgon ap Caradoc thekite, and the lords of Dynevor the eagles. But, Wendot, it could not be-- a child -- a maid -- and our father's guest. I cannot believe it ofour own brothers. "

"I know not what to think, but my heart misgives me. Thou knowest whatLlewelyn ever was, and Howel is but his shadow. I have mistrusted thisstrange friendship before now, remembering what chanced that first day, and that Llewelyn never forgives or forgets; but I would not havedreamed of such a thing as this. Yet, Griffeth, if the thing is so, there is no time to lose. I am off for the crag this very minute. Thoumust quietly collect and arm a few of our stanchest men, together withthe English servants left here with their young mistress. Let all bedone secretly and quietly, and come after me with all speed. It may bethat we are on a fool's errand, and that our fears are groundless. Buttruly it may be that our brothers are about to betray our guest into thehands of one of England's most bitter foes. 

"Oh, methinks were her father to return, and I had her not safe todeliver back to him, I would not for very shame live to see the day whenI must avow to him what had befallen his child at the hands of my brethren!"

Griffeth was fully alive to the possible peril menacing the child, andeagerly took his orders from his elder brother. It would not bedifficult to summon some dozen of the armed men on the place toaccompany him quietly and secretly. They would follow upon Wendot'sfleet steps with as little delay as might be, and would at least trackthe fugitive and her guides, whether they succeeded in effecting arescue that day or not. 

Wendot waited for nothing but to give a few directions to his brother. Scarce ten minutes had elapsed from the moment when the firstillumination of mind had come to him respecting some plot against thelife of an innocent child, before he had armed himself, and unleashedtwo of the fleetest, strongest, fiercest of the hounds, and was speedingup across the moor and fell towards the lonely crag of the eagle's nest, which lay halfway between the castle of Dynevor and the abode of Maelgonap Caradoc. 

There was one advantage Wendot possessed over his brothers, and that wasthat he could take the wild-deer tracks which led straight onward andupward, whilst they with their charge would have to keep to the windingmule track, which trebled the distance. The maiden's palfrey was nonetoo clever or surefooted upon these rough hillsides, and their progresswould be but slow. 

Wendot moved as if he had wings to his feet, and although the hot summersun began to beat down upon his head, and his breath came in deep, laboured gasps, he felt neither heat nor fatigue, but pressed as eagerlyonwards and upwards as the strong, fleet hounds at his side. 

He knew he was on the right track; for ever and anon his path wouldcross that which had been trodden by the feet of the boys and the horseearlier in the day, and his own quick eyes and the deep baying of thehounds told him at once whenever this was the case. Upwards and onwards, onwards and upwards, sprang the brave lad with the untiring energy of astrong and righteous purpose. He might be going to danger, he might begoing to his death; for if he came into open collision with the wild andsavage retainers of Maelgon, intent upon obtaining their prey, he knewthat they would think little of stabbing him to the heart rather than bebalked. There was no feud so far between Llanymddyvri and Dynevor, butWendot knew that his father was suspected of leaning towards the Englishcause, and that it would take little to provoke some hostiledemonstration on the part of his wild and reckless neighbour. The wholecountry was torn and rent by internecine strife, and there was a chronicstate of semi-warfare kept up between half the nobles of the countryagainst the other half. 

But of personal danger Wendot thought nothing. His own honour and thatof his father were at stake. If the little child left in their care weretreacherously given up to the foes of the English, the boy felt that heshould never lift up his head again. He must save her -- he would. Farrather would he die in her defence than face her father with the storyof the base treachery of his brothers. 

The path grew wilder and steeper; the vegetation became more scant. Theheat of the sun was tempered by the cold of the upper air. It was easierto climb, and the boy felt that his muscles were made of steel. 

Suddenly a new sound struck upon his ear. It was like the whinny of ahorse, only that there was in it a note of distress. Glancing sharplyabout him, Wendot saw Lady Gertrude's small white palfrey standingprecariously on a ledge of rock, and looking pitifully about him, unableto move either up or down. The creature had plainly been turned looseand abandoned, and in trying to find his way home had stranded upon thisledge, and was frightened to move a step. Wendot was fond of allanimals, and could not leave the pretty creature in such a predicament. 

"Besides, Gertrude may want him again for the descent, " he said; andalthough every moment was precious, he contrived to get the horse up thesteep bank and on to better ground, and then tethered him on a smallgrassy plateau, where he could feed and take his ease in safety for anhour or two to come. 

That matter accomplished, the lad was up and off again. He had now totrust to the hounds to direct him, for he did not know what track hisbrothers would have taken, and the hard rocks gave no indications whichhe could follow. But the dogs were well used to their work, and withtheir noses to the ground followed the trail unceasingly, indicatingfrom time to time by a deep bay that they were absolutely certain oftheir direction. 

High overhead loomed the apex of the great crag. Wendot knew that he hadnot much farther to go. He was able to distinguish the cairn of stoneswhich he and his brothers had once erected on the top in honour of theirhaving made the ascent in a marvellously short space of time. Wendot hadbeaten that record today, he knew; but his eyes were full of anxietyinstead of triumph. He was scanning every track and every inch ofdistance for traces of the foe he felt certain were somewhere at hand. Had they been here already, and had they carried off the prey? Or werethey only on their way, and had he come in time to thwart their purpose yet?

Ha! what was that?

Wendot had reached the shoulder of the mountain; he could see across thevalley -- could see the narrow winding track which led to the strongholdof Maelgon. The Eagle's Crag, as it was called, fell away precipitouslyon the other side. No one could scale it on that face. The path from theupper valley wound round circuitously towards it; and along this path, in the brilliant sunshine, Wendot saw distinctly the approach of a smallband of armed men. Yes: they were approaching, they were not retreating. Then they had not already taken their prey; they were coming to claimit. The boy could have shouted aloud in his triumph and joy; but he heldhis peace, for who could tell what peril might not lie in the way?

The next moment he had scaled the steep, slippery rock which led to theprecipitous edge of the crag. Not a sign could he see of his brothers orthe child, but the hounds led right on to the very verge of theprecipice, and for a moment the boy's heart stood still. What if theyhad grown afraid of the consequences of their own act, and had resolvedto get rid of the child in a sure and safe fashion!

For a moment Wendot's blood ran cold. He recalled the traits of fiercecruelty which had sometimes shown themselves in Llewelyn from childhood, his well-known hatred of the English, his outburst of passion withGertrude, so quickly followed by a strange appearance of friendship. Wendot knew his countrymen and his nation's characteristics, and knewthat fierce acts of treachery were often truly charged upon them. Whatif -- But the thought was too repellent to be seriously pursued, andshaking it off by an effort, he raised his voice and called his brothersby name. 

And then, almost as it seemed from beneath his very feet, there came ananswering call; but the voice was not that of his brothers, but the cryof a terrified child. 

"Oh, who are you? Do, please, come to me. I am so frightened. I know Ishall fall. I know I shall be killed. Do come to me quickly. I don'tknow where Llewelyn and Howel have gone. "

"I am coming -- I am Wendot, " cried the boy, his heart giving a suddenbound. "You are not hurt, you are safe?"

"Yes; only so giddy and frightened, and the sun is so hot and burning, and yet it is cold, too. It is such a narrow place, and I cannot get upor down. I can't see the eagle's nest, and they have been such a longtime going after it. They said they would bring the nest and the youngeagles up to me, but they have never come back. I'm afraid they arekilled or hurt. Oh, if you would only help me up, then we would go andlook for them together! Oh, I am so glad that you have come!"

Wendot could not see the child, though every word she spoke wasdistinctly audible. He certainly could not reach her from the placewhere he now stood; but the hounds had been following the tracks of thequarry they had been scenting all this way, and stood baying at acertain spot some fifty yards away, and a little lower down than theapex of the crag. It was long since Wendot had visited this spot, hisbrothers knew it better than he; but when he got to the place indicatedby the dogs, he saw that there was a little precipitous path along theface of the cliff, which, although very narrow and not a littledangerous, did give foothold to an experienced mountaineer. How thechild had ever had the nerve to tread it he could not imagine, butundoubtedly she was there, and he must get her back, if possible, anddown the mountainside, before those armed men from the upper valleycould reach them. 

But could he do this? He cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder, and saw to his dismay how quickly they were approaching. From theirquickened pace he fancied that his own movements had been observed. Certainly there was not a moment to lose, and leaving the dogs to keepguard at the entrance, he set his foot upon the perilous path andcarefully pursued his way. 

The face of the cliff jutted outwards for some yards, and then made asharp turn round an angle. At the spot where this turn occurred, a sortof natural arch had formed itself over the narrow ledge which formed thepath, and immediately behind the arch there was a small plateau whichgave space to stand and move with some freedom, although a step over theedge would plunge the unwary victim into the deep gulf beneath. Thecliff then fell away once again, but the ledge wound round it still, until it ended in a shallow alcove some eight feet deep, which lay justbeneath the highest part of the crag, which overhung it by many yards. 

And it was crouched up against the cliff in this little alcove thatWendot found Gertrude; cowering, white-faced, against the hard rock, faint from want of food, terrified at the loneliness and at her ownfears for the safety of her companions, and so overwrought by thetension of nerve she had undergone, that when Wendot did stand besideher she could only cling to him sobbing passionately, and it was longbefore he could even induce her to let him go, or to attempt to eat thecontents of a small package he had had the forethought to bring in hiswallet. 

He heard her tale as she sobbed in his arms. They had come here afterthe eagle's nest. Llewelyn and Howel had been so kind! They had notminded her being so slow, but had brought her all the way; and when shewanted to follow them along the ledge to get a better view of the nest, they had blindfolded her that she might not get giddy, and had put arope round her and brought her safely along the narrow ledge till shehad got to this place. But the nest could not be seen even from there, and they had left her to see where it really was. They said they wouldsoon be back, but they had not come, and she had got first anxious andthen terrified about them, and then fearful for her own safety. At lastwhen faintness and giddiness had come upon her, and she could get noanswer to her repeated shouts, her spirit had altogether given way; andunless Wendot had really come to her rescue, she was certain she shouldhave fallen down the precipice. She did not know now how she should everget back along the narrow ridge, she was so frightened and giddy. But ifLlewelyn and Howel would come, perhaps she might. 

Did Wendot know where they were? Would he take care of her now, andbring her safe home?

"I will if I can, " answered the boy, with a strange light in his blueeyes. "Griffeth is on his way with plenty of help. He will be here soon. Do you think you could walk along the ridge now, if I were to hold youup and help you? We should get home sooner if you could. "

But the child shrank back and put her hand before her eyes. 

"Oh, let us wait till Griffeth comes. I am so giddy still, and I am soafraid I should fall. Hark! I'm sure I hear voices. They are comingalready. Oh, I am so glad! I do want to get home. Wendot, why do youlook like that? Why do you get out that thing? You are not going to fight?"

"Lady Gertrude, " said Wendot, speaking in a grave, manly way that atonce riveted the child's attention, "I am afraid that those voices donot belong to our friends, but to a band of men who are coming to tryand take you prisoner to a castle up the valley there. No: do not befrightened; I will save you from them if I can. There is help coming forus, and I think I can hold this path against them for some time to come. You must try and keep up heart and not be frightened. You may see somehard blows struck, but you can shut your eyes and not think about it. Ifthey do kill me and carry you off, do not give up hope, for Griffeth andour own men will be after you to rescue you. Now let me go, and try notto be afraid. I think we can hold them at bay till we are more equallymatched. "

The child's eyes dilated with horror. She caught Wendot by the hand. 

"Give me up, " she said firmly. "I will not have you killed for me. Iwould rather go with them. Give me up, I say!"

"No, Gertrude; I will not give you up, " answered Wendot very quietly, but with an inflexibility of tone which made his voice seem like that ofanother person. "Your father placed you in my hands; to him I mustanswer for your safety. What is life to a man without honour? Would youhave me stain my name for the sake of saving my life? I think not thatthat is the English code of honour. "

Child as she was, little Gertrude understood well what was implied inthose words, and a new light flashed into her eyes. Something of thesoldier spirit awoke within her, and she snatched at a small daggerWendot carried in his belt, and drawing her small figure to its fullheight, she said:

"We will both fight, Wendot; we will both fight, and both die ratherthan let them take us. "

He smiled, and just for a moment laid his hand upon her head; then hedrew on his mailed gloves and looked well to the buckles of the stoutleathern jerkin, almost as impervious to the stabs of his foes as a suitof mail itself. The temper of his weapon he well knew; he had no fearthat it would play him false. He had not the headpiece of mail; he hadstarted in too great a hurry to arm himself completely, and speed wastoo much an object for him to willingly encumber himself needlessly. Butas he skirted the narrow ledge, and placed himself beneath theprotecting arch, he smiled grimly to himself, and thought that the stonewould be as good a guard, and that here was a place where a man couldsell his life dear, and send many a foe to his account before strikinghis own colours. 

Scarcely had he well established himself in the commanding position hehad resolved upon, when the sound of voices became more distinct. Theparty had plainly arrived at the appointed place, and Wendot could hearthem discussing who was best fitted for the task of traversing thedangerous ledge to bring back the captive who was to be found there. Thewild Welsh was unintelligible to Gertrude, or she would have known atonce what dark treachery had been planned and carried out by her trustedcompanions; but Wendot's cheek glowed with shame, and he set his teethhard, resolved to redeem the honour of his father's name to the lastdrop of his blood if he should be called upon to shed it in the cause. 

He heard the slow and cautious steps approaching along the path, and hegripped his weapon more tightly in his hand. The red light of battle wasin his eyes, and the moment he caught sight of the form of the stalwartsoldier threading his perilous way along the path he sprang upon himwith a cry of fury, and hurled him into the gulf beneath. 

Down fell the man, utterly unprepared for such an attack, and his sharpcry of terror was echoed from above by a dozen loud voices. 

Cries and shouts and questions assailed Wendot, but he answered never aword. Those above knew not if it had been an accident, or if an ambushedfoe had hurled their comrade to destruction. Again came a long pause forconsideration -- and every moment wasted was all in favour of the pairupon the ledge -- and then it became plain that some course of actionhad been determined upon, and Wendot heard the cautious approach ofanother foe. This man crept on his way much more cautiously, and theyouth held himself ready for a yet more determined spring. Luckily forhim, he could remain hidden until his opponent was close to him; and sosoon as he was certain from the sound that the man was reaching theangle of the rock, he made another dash, and brought down his sword withall the strength of his arm upon the head of the assailant. 

Once again into the heart of the abyss crashed the body of theunfortunate soldier; but a sharp thrill of pain ran through Wendot'sframe, and a barbed arrow, well aimed at the joint of his leatherjerkin, plunged into his neck and stuck fast. 

The first assailant whom he had disposed of was but one of a close line, following each other in rapid succession. As his face became visible tothe man now foremost a shout of surprise and anger rose up. 

"It is Res Wendot! It is one of the sons of the house of Dynevor!

"Wendot, thou art mad! We are the friends of thy house. We are here atthe instigation of thine own kindred. Give us the maid, and thou shaltgo free. We would not harm thee. "

"Stir but one step nearer, and I slay thee as I have slain thy twocomrades, " cried Wendot, in a voice which all might hear. "I deal not intreachery towards those that trust us. I will answer for the safety ofthe maid with mine own life. Of my hand her father will demand her whenhe comes again. Shall we men of Wales give right cause to the English tocall us murderers, traitors, cowards? Take my life if you will, take ita thousand times over if you will, it is only over my dead body that youwill reach that child. "

"Down with him -- traitor to the cause! He is sold to the English! He isno countryman of ours! Spare him not! He is worthy of death! Down withevery Welshman who bands not with those who would uphold his country'scause!"

Such were the shouts which rent the air as the meaning of Wendot's wordsmade itself understood. As for the brave lad himself, he had plucked thearrow from his neck, and now stood boldly on guard, resolved to husbandhis strength and keep on the defensive only, hoping thus to gain timeuntil Griffeth and the armed men should arrive. 

He had all the advantage of the position; but his foes were strong men, and came on thick and fast one after another, till it seemed as if thelad might be forced backwards by sheer weight and pressure. But Wendotwas no novice at the use of arms: as his third foe fell upon him withheavy blows of his weighted axe, he stepped backwards a pace, and letthe blows descend harmlessly upon the solid rock of the arch; until theman, disgusted at the non-success of his endeavours to tempt hisadversary out of his defended position, threw away his blunted axe, andwas about to draw his sword for a thrust, when the boy sprang likelightning upon him, and buried his poniard in his heart. 

Over went the man like a log, almost dragging Wendot with him as hefell, and before the youth had had time to recover himself, he hadreceived a deep gash in his sword arm from the foe who pressed on next, and who made a quick dash to try to get possession of the vantage groundof the arch. 

But Wendot staggered back as if with weakness, let his adversary dashthrough the arch after him; and then, hurling himself upon him as hepassed through, pushed him sheer off the ledge on the other side intothe yawning gulf beneath. 

The comrades of this last victim, who had just sent up a shout oftriumph, now changed their note, and it became a yell of rage. Wendotwas back in his old vantage ground, wounded by several arrows, spent byblows, and growing faint from loss of blood, but dauntless and resoluteas ever, determined to sell his life dearly, and hold out as long as hehad breath left in him, sooner than let the helpless child fall into theclutches of these fierce men, goaded now to madness by the oppositionthey had met with. 

Hark! what was that? It was a shout, a hail, and then the familiar callof the Dynevor brothers rang through the still air. 

"La-ha-boo!"

It was Griffeth's voice. He had come at last. It was plain that the foehad heard, and had paused; for if they were menaced from anotherquarter, it was time to think of their own safety. 

Summoning up all his strength, Wendot sent back an answering hail, andthe next moment there was the sound of fierce voices and the clashing ofweapons overhead on the summit of the cliff; and in quick, urgentaccents Wendot's foes were ordered to retreat, as there was treacherysomewhere, and they had been betrayed. 

Wendot saw his antagonists lower their weapons, and return the way theyhad come, with fearful backward glances, lest their boy foe should befollowing them. But he had no wish to do that. He was spent andexhausted and maimed. He turned backwards towards the safer shelter ofthe little alcove, and sank down beside the trembling child, panting, bleeding, and almost unconscious. 

 CHAPTER IV. WENDOT'S REWARD. 

"Father, father, father!"

The shrill, glad cry broke from the lips of little Gertrude almost atthe same moment as Wendot sank at her feet, spent and fainting; and thelad, making a great effort, opened his dim eyes to see the tall form ofthe English noble stooping over his little daughter, gathering her inhis arms with a gesture of passionate endearment. 

Wendot fancied he must be dreaming; perhaps it was all a strange, terrible dream: everything was swimming before his eyes in a sort ofblood-coloured mist. He gave up the effort to try to disentangle themaze in which he seemed to be moving, and was sinking intounconsciousness again when a sharp cry from his brother aroused him. 

"Wendot, Wendot! -- O father, see --they have killed him!"

"Nay, lad, not that. Here, let me get to him. 

"Griffeth, run thou and tell the fellows to let down ropes from above todraw him up. He cannot return along that narrow ledge. He and the childhad best be drawn up by those above. Tell them to lose no time. The boymust be taken home to his mother's care. This narrow ledge is growinglike an oven. Bid one of the men run to the brook for a draught of water. "

Wendot's lips framed themselves to the word "water" as he heard itspoken. If he had but a draught of water, perhaps he could speak againand understand what was passing. As it was, he only heard the sound of aconfusion of voices, the clear tones of little Gertrude being the mostcontinuous and the most distinct. She seemed to be pouring some taleinto the ears of her listeners, and Wendot was certain, from the quick, sudden movements of his father, who was supporting him as he lay, thatthe story heard was exciting in him feelings of indignation andamazement, although the boy's brain was too much confused to tell himthe reason for this displeasure. 

But the sense of rest and safety inspired by his father's presence wasvery comforting; and when the wounded lad had been drawn to the summitof the cliff by the strong, willing arms of the retainers, and his hurtsrudely dressed by kindly hands, and his parched throat refreshed by deepdraughts of cold water, he began to shake off the sense of unrealitywhich had made him feel like one in a dream, and to marvel at theunexpected appearance on the lonely fell of his father and Lord Montacute. 

A sure-footed mountain pony was bearing him gently down the steep slope, and his questioning look called Griffeth to his side. 

"What means all this, Griffeth?" he whispered. "Whence came they? andwhat do they know? And Llewelyn and Howel, where are they? Can it bethat they --"

He could not frame his lips to speak the words, but Griffeth understoodhim without, and his cheek flushed. 

"I fear me it is indeed as we thought. She went with them, and they lefther alone on the ledge, where once the eagle's eyry used to be. Maelgon's men came to carry her off thence. Had it not been for thee, Wendot, she would have been in their hands ere now. I would I had stoodbeside thee, brother. I would I had shared thy perils and thy hurts. "

"Thou didst better than that, " answered Wendot, faintly smiling, "forthou broughtest aid in the very nick of time. And how came it that ourfather and our guest were with thee? Methought it must surely be a dreamwhen I saw them. "

"Ay, we met them journeying towards the castle when we had but made ashort mile from it. They would have reached last night but for anaccident to one of the beasts, which detained them on the road; but theyhad started ere the sun rose, and were hard by when we encountered them. Hearing our errand, some went forward as before, but others joined ourparty. It was well we were thus reinforced, for Maelgon's men fight likeveritable wolves. "

"What knoweth our father of the matter? Spakest thou to him of Llewelynand Howel?"

"I had perforce to do so, they questioned me so closely. I know not whatthey thought. Our guest's face is not one that may be read like a book, and our father only set his lips in his stern fashion, as though hewould never open them again. I trow he is sore displeased that sons ofhis should thus act; but perchance it may not be so bad as we think. "

Wendot made no reply. He was growing too spent and weary to have wordsor thoughts to spare. It seemed as if the long and weary descent wouldnever be accomplished; and the beat of the sun beating down upon themmercilessly as they reached the lower ground turned him sick and faint. Little Gertrude, mounted now upon her palfrey, was chatteringceaselessly to her father, as he strode on beside her down the hillside;but Lord Montacute was grave and silent; and as for the face of ResVychan, it looked as if carved out of marble, as he planted himself bythe side of the sturdy pony who carried his son, and placed his armround the lad to support him during that long and weary ride. 

It was plain that the thoughts of both men were of a very seriouscomplexion, and gave them food for much reflection and consideration. 

Griffeth bounded on a little ahead of the cavalcade, excited by theevents of the day, anxious for his brother, yet intensely proud of him, envying him the chance of thus displaying his heroic qualities, yet onlywishing to have shared them -- not that anything should be detractedfrom the halo which encircled Wendot. He had reached a turn in the path, and for a moment was alone and out of sight of the company thatfollowed, when the hounds who had accompanied Wendot, and were nowreturning with them, uttered a deep bay as of welcome, and the nextmoment two dark and swarthy heads appeared from behind the shelter ofsome great boulders, and the faces of Llewelyn and Howel lookedcautiously forth. 

In a moment Griffeth was by their side, various emotions struggling inhis face for mastery; but the tie of brotherhood was a strong one, andhis first words were those of warning. 

"It is all known -- our father knows, and hers. I know not what yourpunishment will be. I have never seen our father look so stern. Do asyou will about returning home, but I wot not how you will be received. "

Llewelyn and Howel exchanged glances; and the former asked eagerly, "Andthe maid?"

"Is safe with her father and ours. Wendot risked his life to save herfrom Maelgon's men. Nay, linger not to hear the tale, if you would flyfrom the anger of those who know that you sought to betray her. It willbe no easy thing to make peace with our father. You know his thoughtsupon the sacredness of hospitality. "

But even as he spoke Griffeth saw the change that came over hisbrothers' faces as they looked past him to something behind; then as hehimself turned quickly to see what it was, he beheld their father andtwo of the servants approaching; and Res Vychan pointed sternly to thetwo dark-leaded boys, now involuntarily quailing beneath the fieryindignation in his eyes, and said:

"Bind them hand and foot and carry them to the castle. They shall bedealt with there as their offence shall warrant. "

Then turning on his heel, he rejoined the company; whilst Llewelyn andHowel were brought captive to the paternal halls of Dynevor. 

Wendot knew very little of the occurrences of the next few days. He wascarried to the chamber that he shared with Griffeth, and there he layfor several days and nights in a dreamy, semi-conscious state, tended byhis mother with all the skill and tenderness she possessed, and, savewhen the pain of his wounds made him restless and feverish, sleepingmuch, and troubling his head little about what went on within or withoutthe castle. He was dimly aware that little Gertrude came in and out ofhis room sometimes, holding to his mother's hands, and that her gentleprattle and little caressing gestures were very soothing and pleasant. But he did not trouble his head to wonder how it was he was lying there, nor what event had crippled him so; and only in the fevered visions ofthe night did he see himself once again standing upon the narrow ledgeof the Eagle's Crag, with a host of foes bearing down upon him tooverpower and slay both him and his charge. 

But after a few days of feverish lassitude and drowsiness the lad'smagnificent constitution triumphed -- the fever left him; and though henow lay weak and white upon his narrow bed, his mind was perfectlyclear, and he was eager and anxious to know what had happened whilst hehad been shut out from the life of the castle. 

His mother was naturally the one to whom he turned for information. Hesaw that she was unwontedly pale and grave and thoughtful. As she satbeside his bed with some needlework in her hands one bright afternoon, when the sunlight was streaming into the chamber, and the air floatingin through the narrow casement was full of scent and song, his eyesfixed themselves upon her face with more of purpose and reflection, andhe begged her to tell him all that had passed. 

"For I know that our guests are still here. Gertrude comes daily to seeme. But where are Llewelyn and Howel? I have not seen them once. Is myfather angry with them still? or have they been punished and forgiven?"

"Your brothers are still close prisoners, " answered the mother with asigh. "They have been chastised with more severity than any son of ourshas needed to be chastised before; but they still remain sullen andobdurate and revengeful, and thy father will not permit them to come outfrom their retirement so long as our guests remain. Perchance it is bestso, for it would but cause trouble in the house for them to meet. Iwould that they could see matters differently; and yet there are manyamongst our people who would say that the true patriotism was theirs. "

"And our guests, mother -- why linger they still? Methought they Wouldleave so soon as Lord Montacute returned. "

"So they purposed once; but he has wished to remain till thou art soundonce more, my son. He hath a very warm feeling towards thee, and wouldspeak to thee of something that is in his heart ere he quits Dynevor. Hehas spoken of it to thy father and to me, but he wishes thee to hear itfrom his own lips. "

Wendot's interest was aroused. Something in his mother's expression toldhim that the thing of which she spoke was a matter of some importance. As an eldest son and forward for his years, and of a reflective andthoughtful turn, he had often been consulted by his parents, andparticularly by his mother, in matters rather beyond his comprehension, and had shared in discussions which many youths of his age would haveshunned and despised. Now, therefore, he looked eagerly at his motherand said:

"What is it he wishes to say Canst thou not tell me thyself?"

The Lady of Dynevor paused awhile in thought; and when she spoke, it didnot appear to be in direct reply to her son's question. 

"Wendot, " she said gravely, "thou hast heard much talk of the troubledstate of these times and of the nation's affairs. Thou hast lived longenough to see how hopeless some amongst us feel it ever to hope forunity amongst ourselves. We are torn and distracted by faction and feud. Families are banded together against families, and brothers strive withbrothers for the inheritance each claims as his own. Each lord of somesmall territory tries to wrest from his weaker neighbour that whichbelongs to him; and if for a moment at some great crisis petty feuds areforgotten, and a blow is struck for national liberty, scarce has peacebeen proclaimed again before the old strife breaks out once more, andour fair land is desolated by a more grievous war than ever the Englishwage. "

Wendot bent his head in voiceless assent. He knew something of hiscountry's history, and that his mother spoke only the sad truth. 

"My son, " continued she after a pause, "it chances sometimes in thistroubled life of ours that we are called upon to make choice, notbetween good and evil, but between two courses, both of which are besetwith difficulties and obstacles, both of which mingle together evil andgood, for which and against which much may be argued on both sides, andmany things that are true be said for and against both. To some suchchoice as this has our poor country now come. Experience has taught usthat she is incapable of uniting all her forces and of making of herselfone compact, united kingdom. That course, and that alone, would be hertrue salvation; but that course she will not take, and failing that, shehas to choose between being torn and rent by faction till she is an easyprey to the English king, who will then divide her territories amongsthis own hungry and rapacious barons, or for the princes to submit to payhim the homage for their lands which he (possibly with injustice)demands, but which if paid will make of him their friend and protector, and will enable the country to live in peace and prosperity, assuredthat the king will support those who acknowledge him, and that he willnot deprive of their ancestral rights any who will bring their homage tohim, and hold their territory as it were from him. Understandest thouthus much?"

"Ay, mother, I understand it well; and though there is something in thethought that stirs my blood and sets it coursing through my veins inindignation -- for I see not by what right the English king lays claimto our fair lands -- still I know that conquest gives to the conqueror aright, and that if he chose to march against us with his armies, hemight well find us too much weakened by our petty feuds to resist hisstrong veterans. And the English are not all bad. I have learned thatthese many days whilst our guests have been with us. I have thought attimes that they would be true friends and allies, and that we might dowell to copy them in many ways. In truth, if the choice lies betwixtbeing rent in pieces by each other and giving homage to the greatEdward, who can be merciful and just, I would rather choose the latter. For there must be something grand and noble about him by what our littlemaid says; and to pay homage is no such hard thing. Why, does not hehimself pay homage to the King of France for the lands he holds in hiskingdom?"

A look of relief crossed the face of the mother as she heard these wordsfrom her first-born son. She took his hand in hers and said earnestly:

"Wendot, I am glad to hear thee speak thus, for thou art the heir ofDynevor, and upon thee much may fall some day. Thou knowest what thybrothers are -- I speak of Llewelyn and Howel. I cannot but fear forthem -- unless, indeed, the rapacious greed I sometimes see in Llewelynproves stronger than his fierce hatred to the English, and he prefers todo homage for his lands rather than lose them. But thou art the head ofthe family, and the chief power will rest with thee when thy father isgone. I counsel thee, if the time comes when thou must make thy choice, be not led away by blind hatred of the English. They may prove lesscruel foes than thine own countrymen are to one another. If Wales maynot be united under one native king, let her think well ere she rejectsthe grace held out to all who will yield fealty to the English monarch. That is what I wished to say to thee. Remember that the English are notalways cruel, always rapacious. There are generous, noble, honourablemen amongst them, of whom I am sure our guest is one. "

"Ay, he has a grand face, " said Wendot. "A face one can both love andtrust. And all that the little one tells me of the king and his familyinclines my heart towards him and his. I will remember what you havesaid, mother, and will ponder your words. Methinks it is no lovely thingto hate as Llewelyn and Howel hate; it makes men act rather as fiendsthan as honourable soldiers should. "

The conversation ended there, and was not renewed; but the very next dayLord Montacute sought Wendot's room, when the lad was lying alone, wearying somewhat of his own company, and the light sprang into his eyesas he saw the guest approach, for in his own boyish way he had a greatadmiration for this man. 

"Well, lad, I am glad to see thee looking something more substantial andlike thine own self, " said Lord Montacute, seating himself upon the edgeof the bed and taking Wendot's hand in his. "This hand has done goodservice to me and mine -- good service, indeed, to the King of England, who would have been forced to chastise with some severity the outrageplanned upon a subject of his, and one dear to him from association withhis children. Tell me, boy, what can I do for thee when I tell this taleto my lord of England? What boon hast thou to ask of him or of me? Forthou needest not fear; whatever it be it shall be granted. "

"Nay, I have no boon, " answered Wendot, his cheek flushing. "I did butdo my duty by any guest beneath my father's roof. I was responsible forthe safety of the maid. I had taken that duty on myself. I want nothing;she is safe, and that is enough. Only if you would speak to my fatherfor my brothers Llewelyn and Howel. I know they have merited deepdispleasure; yet they are but lads, and doubtless they were led away byevil counsels. He would hear pleading better from you than from me. "

"It shall be done, " said Lord Montacute, still regarding Wendotsteadily; "and now, boy, I would speak to thee seriously and gravely asman to man, for thou hast proved thyself to be a man in action, incourage, and in foresight. And thy parents tell me that thou artacquainted with the burning questions of the day, and that thy brothers'headstrong hatreds and prejudices do not blind thee. "

Wendot made no reply, but fixed his bright eyes steadily on LordMontacute's face. He on his side, after a brief silence, began again inclear, terse phrases:

"Lad, if thou livest thou wilt some day be Lord of Dynevor -- master ofthis fair heritage, the fairest, perhaps, in all South Wales. Thou hastnoble blood in thy veins -- the blood of princes and kings; thou hastmuch that men covet to call their own; but thou art surrounded by foeswho are jealous of thee, and by kinsmen who have already cast covetouseyes on thy possessions. "

"Ay, that traitorous Meredith ap Res, whose mother is English, and whowould -- But pardon me. I would not willingly speak against your nation. Indeed, I feel not bitter as others do; only --"

"Boy, thou art right to be loyal and true. I like thee none the less forthe patriotic fervour which breaks out in thee. But I am glad that thoushouldest see both sides of this matter, that thou shouldest see theperil menacing thy brothers from thine own kinsman, who has strengthenedhimself by an English alliance. It is useless to blind thine eyes towhat is coming. They tell me thou art not blind; and I come to thee, lad, because I think well of thee, to ask if it would please thee tostrengthen thy position in thine own land and in Edward's sight by analliance with an English maiden of noble birth. Hast thou ever thoughtof such a thing?"

Wendot's wide-open eyes gave answer enough. Lord Montacute smiledslightly as he said:

"Ah, thou art full young for such thoughts; and thou livest not in theatmosphere of courts, where babes are given in marriage almost fromtheir cradles. But listen, Res Wendot; I speak not in jest, I am a manof my word. Thou hast risked thy life to save my little maid. Thou art anoble youth, and I honour both thee and thy parents. The maid has toldme that she loves thee well, and would be well pleased to wed thee whenshe is of the age to do so. These are but childish words, yet they mayprove themselves true in days to come. It is in the interests of allthose who have the peace and prosperity of this land at heart tostrengthen themselves in every way they can. My little daughter willhave an ample dower to bring her husband; and I will keep her for theeif thou wilt be willing to claim her in days to come. I should like wellto see her ruling in these fair halls; and thou hast proved already thatthou art a knightly youth, whose hand she may well take with confidenceand pride. 

"Thy parents are willing; it waits only for thee to say. What thinkestthou of a troth plight with the little maid?"

Wendot's face glowed with a sort of boyish shame, not unmingled withpride; but the idea was altogether too strange and new to him to bereadily grasped. 

"I have never thought of such things, " he said shyly, "and I am tooyoung to wed. Perchance I may grow into some rough, uncouth fellow, whomay please not the maiden when she reaches years of discretion. Methinksit would scarce be fair to plight her now, at least not with such aplight as might not be broken. If our nations meet in fierce conflict, as they yet may, it would be a cruel thing to have linked her hand withthat of a rebel, for such we are called by the English monarch, theysay, when we rise to fight for our liberties bequeathed by our ancestors. 

"Nay, noble lord, frown not on me. There be moments when methinks twospirits strive within me, and I am fearful of trusting even myself. Iwould not that grief or sorrow should touch her through me. Let me comeand claim her anon, when I have grown to man's estate, and can bring herlands and revenues. But bind her not to one whose fate may be beset withperils and shadows. There be those amongst our bards who see into thefuture; and they tell us that a dark fate hangs over the house ofDynevor, and that we four shall be the last to bear the name. "

Lord Montacute was looking grave and earnest. There was something in hisface which indicated disappointment, but also something that spoke ofrelief. Possibly he himself had offered this troth plight with somethingof hesitation, offered it out of gratitude to the noble lad, and out ofrespect to his parents, who, as he saw, would prove valuable allies tothe English cause, could they but be induced to give their allegiance toit. Yet there was another side to the picture, too; and Wendot was tooyoung for any one to predict with certainty what would be his course inthe future. The hot blood of his race ran in his veins; and though hisjudgment was cool, and he saw things in a reasonable and manly light, itwould be rash to predict what the future might have in store for him. 

"Well, lad, thou hast spoken bravely and well, " said the Englishman, after a pause for thought. "Perchance thy words are right; perchance itwill be well to let matters rest as they are for the present. We willhave no solemn troth plight betwixt ye twain; but the maid shall bepromised to none other these next four years, so that if thou carest toclaim her ere she reaches woman's estate, thou shalt find her waitingfor thee. And now I must say thee farewell, for tomorrow we ride awaythe way we came. I trust to see thee at the king's court one of thesedays, and to make known to his royal majesty the noble youth of Dynevor. "

Wendot was left alone then for some time, pondering the strange offermade to him, and wondering whether he had been foolish to refuse thepromised reward. He had never seriously thought of marriage, although inthose days wedlock was entered upon very young if there were anyadvantage to be gained from it. A lad of fifteen is seldom sentimental;but Wendot was conscious of a very warm spot in his heart for littleGertrude, and he knew that he should miss her sorely when she went, andthink of her much. Would it have been a sweet or a bitter thing to havefelt himself pledged to a daughter of England? He felt that he could nottell; but at least the decision was made now, and his words could not berecalled. 

Just ere the sun set that summer's day there came down the stonecorridor which led to his room the patter of little feet, and he leanedup on his elbow with brightening eyes as the door opened and littleGertrude came dancing in. 

"I thought I was to have been married to you, Wendot, before we wentaway, " she said, looking into his face with the most trusting expressionin her soft dark eyes; "but father says you will come to marry me someday at the king's court. Perhaps that will be better, for I should likeEleanor and Joanna to see you. They would like you so, and you wouldlike them. But do come soon, Wendot. I do so like you; and I shall wantto show you to them all. And I have broken my gold coin in two -- theone the king gave me once. I got the armourer to do it, and to make ahole in each half. You must wear one half round your neck, and I willwear the other. And that will be almost the same as being married, willit not? And you will never forget me, will you?"

Wendot let her hang the half of the coin round his neck by a silkenthread, strange new thoughts crowding into his mind as he felt her softlittle hands about him. Suddenly he clasped them in both of his andpressed warm kisses upon them. Gertrude threw her arms about his neck ina childish paroxysm of affection, saying as she did so between her kisses:

"Now, it's just like being husband and wife; and we shall never forgetone another -- never. "

 CHAPTER V. THE KING'S CHILDREN. 

"Dynevor --did you say Dynevor? O Eleanor, it must be he!"

A tall, slim, fair-faced maiden, with a very regal mien, looked upquickly from an embroidery frame over which she was bending, and glancedfrom the eager, flushed face of the younger girl who stood beside her tothat of a tall and stalwart English youth, who appeared to be the bearerof a piece of news, and asked in her unconsciously queenly way:

"What is it, Sir Godfrey, that you have told this impetuous child, tohave set her in such a quiver of excitement?"

"Only this, gracious lady, that certain youthful chieftains from thesouth have come hither to Rhuddlan to pay their homage to your royalfather. In his absence at Chester they have been lodged within thecastle walls, as becomes their station. It has been told me that amongstthem are four sons of one Res Vychan, lately dead, and that he was Lordof Dynevor, which honour has descended to his eldest son. I was tellingwhat I knew to Lady Gertrude when she broke away to speak to you. "

"Eleanor, it must be he -- it must be they!" cried Gertrude, withflushing cheek and kindling eye -- "Res Vychan, Lord of Dynevor, and hisfour sons. It could be none else than they. O Eleanor, sweet Eleanor, bid them be brought hither to see us! Thou hast heard the story of howwe went thither, my father and I, two years agone now, and of whatbefell me there. I have never heard a word of Wendot since, and I havethought of him so oft. Thou art mistress here now; they all heed thylightest word. Bid that the brothers be brought hither to us. I do solong to see them again!"

Gertrude was fairly trembling with excitement; but that was no unusualthing for her, as she was an ardent, excitable little mortal, and everin a fever of some kind or another. The young knight who had brought thenews looked at her with unmistakable admiration and pleasure, and seemedas though he would gladly have obeyed any behest of hers; but he wasfain to wait for the decision of the stately Eleanor, the king's eldestand much-beloved child, who in the temporary absence of her parentsoccupied a position of no little importance in the household, and whosewill, in the royal apartments at any rate, was law. 

But there were other listeners to Gertrude's eager words. At the far endof the long gallery, which was occupied by the royal children as theirprivate apartment, a group of three young things had been at play, butthe urgency of Gertrude's tones had arrested their attention, and theyhad drawn near to hear her last words. One of these younger children wasa black-eyed girl, with a very handsome face and an imperious manner, which gave to onlookers the idea that she was older than her years. Quick tempered, generous, hasty, and self willed was the Lady Joanna, the second daughter of the king; but her warm affections caused all whoknew her to love her; and her romantic temperament was always stirred toits depths by any story that savoured of chivalry or heroism. 

"What!" she cried; "is Wendot here -- Wendot of Dynevor, who held theEagle's Crag against half a hundred foemen to save thee, sweetestGertrude, from captivity or death? -- Eleanor, thou knowest the story;thou must bid him hither at once! Why, I would thank him with my ownlips for his heroism. For is not Gertrude as our own sister in love?"

"Ay, Eleanor, bid him come, " pleaded Alphonso, a fragile-looking boy ayear younger than Joanna, whose violet-blue eyes and fair skin were inmarked contrast to her gipsy-like darkness of complexion; and thisrequest was echoed eagerly by another boy, a fine, bold-looking lad, somewhat older than Alphonso, by name Britten, who was brought up withthe king's children, and treated in every way like them, as the wardroberolls of the period show, though what his rank and parentage were cannotnow be established, as no mention of him occurs in any other documentsof that time. 

The Princess Eleanor, as she would now be called, although in thosefar-back days the title of Lady was generally all that was bestowed uponthe children of the king, did not attempt to resist the combinedentreaties of her younger playfellows. Indeed, although somewhat matureboth in mind and appearance for her years, she was by no means devoid ofchildish or feminine curiosity, and was as willing to see the hero ofGertrude's oft-told tale as her more youthful companions could be. Moreover, it was her father's policy and pleasure to be generous andgracious towards all those who submitted themselves to his feudalsovereignty; and to the young he ever showed himself friendly and evenpaternal. The stern soldier-king was a particularly tender and lovingfather, and his wife the best of mothers, so that the family tie intheir household was a very strong and beautiful thing. When the monarchwas called away from his own royal residences to quell sedition orrebellion in this turbulent country of Wales, his wife and childrenaccompanied him thither; and so it happened that in this rather gloomyfastness in North Wales, when the rebellion of the warlike Llewelyn hadbut just been crushed, the king's children were to be found assembledwithin its walls, by their bright presence and laughter-loving waysmaking the place gay and bright, and bringing even into politicalmatters something of the leniency and good fellowship which seems to bethe prerogative of childhood. 

Thus it was that one powerful and turbulent noble, Einon ap Cadwalader, had left as hostage of his good faith his only child, the Lady Arthyn, to be the companion of the king's daughters. She had been received withopen arms by the warm-hearted Joanna, and the two were fast friendsalready, although the Welsh girl was several years the elder of thepair. But Joanna, who had been educated in Spain by her grandmother andnamesake, and who had only recently come to be with her own parents, hadenjoyed abroad a liberty and importance which had developed her rapidly, and her mind was as quick and forward as her body was active and energetic. 

Intercourse with Arthyn, too, had given to the younger princess a greatsympathy with the vanquished Welsh, and she was generously eager thatthose who came to pay homage to her father should not feel themselves ina position that was humiliating or galling. The gentle Eleanor sharedthis feeling to the full, and was glad to give to the young knight SirGodfrey Challoner, who was one of her own gentlemen-in-waiting, agracious message for the young Lord of Dynevor to the effect that shewould be glad to receive him and his brothers in her father's absence, and to give them places at the royal table for the evening meal shortlyto be served. 

Great was the delight of Gertrude when the message was despatched. Hercompanions crowded round her to hear again the story of her adventure onthe Eagle's Crag. Gertrude never knew how she had been betrayed byWendot's brothers. She believed that they had been accidentally hinderedfrom coming to her rescue by the difficulties of the climb after theeagle's nest. There was a faint, uncomfortable misgiving in her mindwith regard to the black-browed twins, but it did not amount to actualsuspicion, far less to any certainty of their enmity; and althoughEleanor had heard the whole story from her parents, she had notexplained the matter more fully to Gertrude. 

An invitation from royalty was equal to a command, and the eagerchildren were not kept waiting long. The double doors at the end of thelong gallery, which had closed behind the retiring form of Godfrey, opened once again to admit him, and closely in his wake there followedtwo manly youths -- two, not four -- upon whose faces every eye wasinstantly fixed in frank and kindly scrutiny. 

Wendot had developed rapidly during these two last years, although heretained all his old marked characteristics. The waving hair was stillbright and sunny, the open face, with its rather square features, wasresolute, alert, manly, and strong. The fearless blue eyes had not losttheir far-away dreaminess, as though the possessor were looking onwardand outward beyond the surroundings visible to others; and beneath thecalm determination of the expression was an underlying sweetness, whichshone out from time to time in the sunny smile which always won theheart of the beholder. The figure was rather that of a man than a lad --tall, strongly knit, full of grace and power; and a faint yellowmoustache upon the upper lip showed the dawn of manhood in the youth. There was something in his look which seemed to tell that he had knownsorrow, trial, and anxiety; but this in no way detracted from the poweror attractiveness of the countenance, but rather gave it an added charm. 

Griffeth retained his marked likeness to his brother, and was almost hisequal in height; but his cheek was pale and hollow, while Wendot's wasbrown and healthy, his hands were slim and white, and there was an airof languor and ill-health about him which could not fail to make itselfobserved. He looked much younger than his brother, despite his tallstature, and he blushed like a boy as he saw the eyes of the ladiesfixed upon them as they came forward, bowing with no ungraceful deference. 

"Wendot, Wendot. Don't you know me?"

The young man started and raised his eyes towards the speaker. So far, he had only been aware that there were a number of persons collected atthe upper end of the long gallery. Now he found himself confronted by apair of eager, dancing eyes, as soft and dark as those of a forest deer, whilst two slim hands were held out to him, and a silvery voice criedsoftly and playfully:

"O Wendot, Wendot, to think you have forgotten!"

"Lady Gertrude!"

"Ah, I am glad you have not forgotten, though methinks I have changedmore than you these past years. I should have known you anywhere. Butcome, Wendot; I would present you to my friends and companions, whowould fain be acquainted with you. They know how you saved my life thatday, I have told the tale so oft. 

"Let me present you first to our sweetest Lady Eleanor, our great king'seldest daughter. You will love her, I know -- none can help it. And shelets me call myself her sister. "

Young things have a wonderful faculty of growing intimate in a verybrief space, and the formalities of those simpler times were notexcessive, especially away from the trammels of the court. In tenminutes' time Wendot and his brother had grasped the names and rank ofall those to whom they had been presented, and were joining in the eagertalk with ease and with enjoyment. Joanna stood beside Wendot, listening, with unfeigned interest, to his answers respecting himselfand those near and dear to him; whilst Alphonso had drawn Griffeth tothe embrasure of a window, and was looking up into his face as theycompared notes and exchanged ideas. It seemed from the first as though astrong link formed itself between those two. 

"Your brothers would not come. Was that fear or shame or pride?" askedJoanna, with a laughing look into Wendot's flushed face. "Nay, think notthat we would compel any to visit us who do it not willingly. Gertrudehas prepared us to find your brothers different from you. Methinks shemarvelled somewhat that they had come hither at all with their submission. "

Wendot hesitated, and the flush deepened on his face; but he was tooyoung to have learned the lesson of reticence, and there was somethingin the free atmosphere of this place which prompted him to frankness. 

"I myself was surprised at it, " he said. "Llewelyn and Howel have notbeen friendly in their dealings with the English so far, and we knewthey aided Llewelyn of North Wales in the revolt which has been latelyquelled. But since our parents died we have seen but little of them. They became joint owners of the commot of Iscennen, and removed fromDynevor to the castle of Carregcennen in their own territory, and untilwe met them some days since in company with our kinsman Meredith ap Hes, coming to tender their homage, as we ourselves are about to do, we knewnot what to think of them or what action they would take. "

"Are both your parents dead, then?" asked Gertrude, with sympathy in hereyes. "I heard that Res Vychan was no longer living, but I knew not thatthe gentle Lady of Dynevor had passed away also. "

Wendot's face changed slightly as he answered:

"They both died within a few days of each other the winter after you hadbeen with us, Lady Gertrude. We were visited by a terrible sickness thatyear, and our people sickened and died in great numbers. Our parents didall they could for them, and first my father fell ill and died, andscarce had the grave closed over him before our mother was stricken, andfollowed him ere a week had passed. Griffeth was also lying at the pointof death, and we despaired of his life also; but he battled through, andcame back to us from the very gates of the grave, and yet methinkssometimes that he has never been the same since. He shoots up in height, but he cannot do the things he did when he was two years younger. 

"What think you of him, sweet Lady Gertrude? Is he changed from what hewas when last you saw him, ere the sickness had fastened upon him?"

Several eyes were turned towards the slim, tall figure of the Welsh ladleaning against the embrasure of the window. The sunlight fell full uponhis face, showing the sharpness of its outlines, the delicate hecticcolouring, the tracery of the blue veins beneath the transparent skin. And just the same transparent look was visible in the countenance of theyoung Prince Alphonso, who was talking with the stranger youth, and morehearts than that of Wendot felt a pang as their owners' eyes were turnedupon the pair beside the sunny window. But Wendot pressed for no answerto his question, nor did Gertrude volunteer it; she only asked quickly:

"Then Griffeth and you live yet at Dynevor, beautiful Dynevor, andLlewelyn and Howel elsewhere?"

"Ay, at Carregcennen. We have our respective lands, though we are minorsyet; and our kinsman Meredith ap Res is our guardian, though it islittle we see of him. "

"Meredith ap Res! I know him well, " cried a girlish voice, in accentswhich betrayed her Welsh origin. "He has ever been a traitor to hiscountry, a traitor to all who trust him; a covetous, grasping man, whowill clutch at what he can get, and never cease scheming after lands andtitles so long as the breath remains in him. "

They all turned to see who had spoken, and Arthyn -- the headstrong, passionate, patriotic Arthyn, who, despite her love for her presentcompanions, bitterly resented being left a hostage in the hands of theEnglish king -- stood out before them, and spoke in the fearless fashionwhich nobody present resented. 

"Wendot of Dynevor, if you are he, beware of that man, and bid yourbrothers beware of him, too. I know him; I have heard much of him. Besure he has an eye on your fair lands, and he will embroil you yet withthe English king if he can, that he may lay claim to your patrimony. Hebrings you here to the court to make your peace, to pay your homage. IfI mistake not the man, you will not all of you return whence you came. He will poison the king's mind. Some traitorous practices will bealleged against you. Your lands will be withheld. You will be fed withpromises which will never be fulfilled. And the kinsman who has soldhimself body and soul to the English alliance will rule your lands, inyour names firstly perchance, until his power is secure, and he canclaim them boldly as his own. See if it be not so. "

"It shall not be so, " cried Alphonso, suddenly advancing a step forwardand planting himself in the midst of the group. 

His cheek was crimson now, there was fire in his eyes. He had all theregal look of his royal father as he glanced up into Wendot's face andspoke with an authority beyond his years. 

"I, the king's son, give you my word of honour that this thing shall notbe. You are rightful Lord of Dynevor. You took not up arms against myfather in the late rebellion; you come at his command to pay your homageto him. Therefore, whatever may be his dealings with your brothers whohave assisted the rebels, I pledge my princely word that you shallreturn in peace to your own possessions. My father is a just andrighteous king, and I will be his surety that he will do all that isright and just by you, Wendot of Dynevor. "

"Well spoken, Alphonso!" cried Joanna and Britton in a breath, whilstWendot took the hand extended to him, and bent over it with a feeling ofloyal gratitude and respect. 

There was something very lovable in the fragile young prince, and heseemed to win the hearts of all who came within the charm of hispersonal presence. He combined his father's fearless nobility with hismother's sweetness of disposition. Had he lived to ascend the throne ofEngland, one of the darkest pages of its annals might never have beenwritten. 

But this hot discussion was brought to an end by the appearance of theservants, who carried in the supper, laying it upon a long table at thefar end of the gallery. No great state was observed even in the royalhousehold, when the family was far away from the atmosphere of the courtas it was held at Westminster or Windsor. 

A certain number of servants were in attendance. There were a fewformalities gone through in the matter of tasting of dishes served tothe royal children, but they sat round the table without ceremony; andwhen the chaplain had pronounced a blessing, which was listened toreverently by the young people, who were all very devout and responsiveto religious influences, the unconstrained chatter began again almost atonce, and the Welsh lads lost all sense of strangeness as they sat atthe table of the king's children. 

"Our father and mother will not return for several days yet, " saidJoanna to Wendot, whom she had placed between herself and Gertrude; "butwe have liberty to do what we wish and to go where we like. 

"Say, Gertrude, shall we tell Wendot on what we have set our hearts? Itmay be he would help us to our end. "

"I would do anything you bid me, gracious lady, " answered Wendot withboyish chivalry. 

The girls were eying each other with flushed faces, their voices werelowered so that they should not reach the ears of the Lady Edeline, Joanna's governess, who was seated at the board, although she seldomspoke unless directly addressed by Eleanor, who seemed to be on friendlyterms with her. 

"Wendot, " whispered Joanna cautiously, "have you ever hunted a wolf inyour mountains?"

"Ay, many a time, though they be more seldom seen now. But we never ridourselves altogether of them, do as we will. "

"And have you killed one yourself?"

"Yes, I have done that, too. "

"And is it very dangerous?"

"I scarce know; I never thought about it. I think not, if one is wellarmed and has dogs trained to their duties. "

Joanna's eyes were alight with excitement; her hands were lockedtogether tightly. Her animated face was set in lines of the greatestdetermination and happiest anticipation. 

"Wendot, " she said, "there is a wolf up yonder in that wild valley wecan see from yon window, as you look towards the heights of Snowdon. Some of our people have seen and tracked it, but they say it is an oldand wily one, and no one has got near it yet. Wendot, we have set ourhearts on having a wolf hunt of our very own. We do not want all the menand dogs and the stir and fuss which they would make if we were known tobe going. I know what that means. We are kept far away behind everybody, and only see the dead animal after it has been killed miles away fromus. We want to be in the hunt ourselves -- Britten, Alphonso, Arthyn, Gertrude, and I. Godfrey would perhaps be won over if Gertrude beggedhim, and I know Raoul Latimer would -- he is always ready for what turnsup -- but that would not be enough. O Wendot, if you and your brotherswould but come, we should be safe without anybody else. Raoul has dogs, and we could all be armed, and we would promise to be very careful. Wecould get away early, as Gertrude did that day she slipped off to theEagle's Crag. 

"Wendot, do answer -- do say you will come. You understand all abouthunting, even hunting wolves. You are not afraid?"

Wendot smiled at the notion. He did not entirely understand that he wasrequested to take part in a bit of defiant frolic which the youngprinces and princesses were well aware would not have been permitted bytheir parents. All he grasped was that the Lady Joanna requested hisassistance in a hunt which she had planned, and with the details ofwhich he was perfectly familiar, and he agreed willingly to her request, not sorry, either for his own sake or for that of his more discontentedbrothers, that the monotony of the days spent in waiting the return ofthe king should be beguiled by anything so attractive and exciting as awolf hunt. 

The Dynevor brothers had often hunted wolves before, and saw no specialperil in the sport; and Joanna and Gertrude felt that not even the mostnervous guardian could hesitate to let them go with such a stout protector. 

"I do like him, Gertrude, " said Joanna, when Wendot and his brother hadretired. "I hope if I ever have to marry, as people generally do, especially if they are king's daughters, that I shall find somebody asbrave and handsome and knightly as your Wendot of Dynevor. "

For Gertrude and Joanna both took the view that the breaking of theking's gold coin between them was equivalent to the most solemn of trothplights. 

 CHAPTER VI. WELSH WOLVES. 

The Princess Joanna was accustomed to a great deal of her own way. Shehad been born at Acre, whilst her parents had been absent upon Edward'sCrusade, and for many years she had remained in Castile with hergrandmother-godmother, who had treated her with unwise distinction, andhad taught her to regard herself almost as a little queen. Thehigh-spirited and self-willed girl had thus acquired habits ofindependence and commanding ways which were perhaps hardly suited to hertender years; but nevertheless there was something in her brightvivacity and generous impetuosity which always won the hearts of thoseabout her, and there were few who willingly thwarted her when her heartwas set upon any particular thing. 

There were in attendance upon the king and his children a number ofgallant youths, sons of his nobles, who were admitted to pleasant andeasy intercourse with the royal family; so that when Joanna and Alphonsoset their hearts upon a private escapade of their own, in the shape of awolf hunt, it was not difficult to enlist many brave champions in thecause quite as eager for the danger and the sport as the royal childrenthemselves. Joanna was admitted to be a privileged person, and Alphonso, as the only son of the king, had a certain authority of his own. 

The graver and more responsible guardians of the young prince andprincesses might have hesitated before letting them have their way inthis matter; but Joanna took counsel of the younger and more ardentspirits by whom she was surrounded, and a secret expedition to aneighbouring rocky fastness was soon planned, which expedition, by alittle diplomacy and management, could be carried out without excitingmuch remark. 

The king and queen encouraged their family in hardy exercises and earlyhours. If the royal children planned an early ride through the freshmorning air, none would hinder their departure, and they could easilyshake off their slower attendants when the time came, and join thebolder comrades who would be waiting for them with all the needfulaccoutrements for the hunt on which their minds were bent. 

One or two of the more youthful and adventurous attendants might comewith them, but the soberer custodians might either be dismissed oroutridden. They were accustomed to the vagaries of the Lady Joanna, andwould not be greatly astonished at any freak on her part. 

And thus it came about that one clear, cold, exhilarating morning inMay, when the world was just waking from its dewy sleep of night, thatJoanna and Alphonso, together with Gertrude and Arthyn, and young SirGodfrey and another gentleman in attendance, drew rein laughingly, aftera breathless ride across a piece of wild moorland, at the appointedspot, where a small but well-equipped company was awaiting them with thespears, the dogs, and the long, murderous-looking hunting knives neededby those who follow the tracks of the wild creatures of the mountains. 

This little band numbered in its ranks the four Dynevor brothers; atall, rather haughty-looking youth, by name Raoul Latimer; and one ortwo more with whose names we have no concern. Britten, who accompaniedthe royal party, sprang forward with a cry of delight at seeing themuster, and began eagerly questioning Raoul as to the capabilities ofthe dogs he had brought, and the possible dangers to be encountered inthe day's sport. 

Gertrude and Joanna rode up to Wendot and greeted him warmly. They hadseen him only once since the first evening after his arrival, and bothgirls stole curious glances at the dark faces of the two brothersunknown as yet to them. They were almost surprised that the twins hadcome at all, as they were not disposed to be friendly towards theEnglish amongst whom they were now mingling; but here they were, andGertrude greeted both with her pretty grace, and they answered her wordsof welcome with more courtesy than she had expected to find in them. 

Llewelyn and Howel were submitting themselves to the inevitable withwhat grace they could, but with very indignant and hostile feelingshidden deep in their hearts. Their old hatred towards the Englishremained unaltered. They would have fought the foe tooth and nail to thelast had they been able to find allies ready to stand by them. But whentheir uncle of North Wales had submitted, and all the smaller chieftainswere crowding to the court to pay homage, and when they knew thatnothing but their own nominal subjection would save them from beingdeprived of their lands, which would go to enrich the rapacious Meredithap Res, then indeed did resistance at that time seem hopeless; andsooner than see themselves thus despoiled by one who was no better thana vassal of England, they had resolved to take the hated step, and dohomage to Edward for their lands. Indeed, these brothers had to do evenmore; for, having been concerned in the late rebellion, they hadforfeited their claim upon their property, only that it was Edward'spolicy to restore all lands the owners of which submitted themselves tohis authority. The brothers felt no doubt as to the result of theirsubmission, but the humiliation involved was great, and it was hard workto keep their hatred of the English in check. Those wild spirits had notbeen used to exercising self-control, and the lesson came hard now thatthey were springing up towards man's estate, with all the untemperedrecklessness and heat of youth still in their veins. 

Perhaps there was something in the expression of those two dark facesthat told its tale to one silent spectator of the meeting between theWelsh and English; for as the party united forces and pushed onwards andupwards towards the wild ravine where the haunt of the wolf lay, thetwin brothers heard themselves addressed in their own language, andthough the tones were sweet and silvery, the words had a ring ofpassionate earnestness in them which went straight to their hearts. 

"Methinks I am not mistaken in you, sons of Dynevor. You have notwillingly left your mountain eyry for these halls where the proud foemanholds his court and sits in judgment upon those who by rights are freeas air. I have heard of you before, Llewelyn and Howel ap Res Vychan. You are not here, like your brethren, half won over to the cause of thefoe; you would fight with the last drop of your blood for the liberty ofour country. "

Turning with a start, the brothers beheld the form of a slight andgraceful maiden, who was pushing her palfrey up beside them. Sheappeared to be about their own age, and was very beautiful to look upon, with a clear, dark skin, large, bright eyes, now glowing with theenthusiasm so soon kindled in the breast of the children of an oppressedpeople -- a people thrilling with the strange, deep poetry of theirrace, which made much amends for their lack of culture in other points. 

Llewelyn and Howel, learning caution by experience, scarce knew how torespond to this appeal; but the girl met their inquiring glances by avivid smile, and said:

"Nay, fear me not. I am one of yourselves -- one of our country's ownchildren. Think not that I am here of my own free will. I deny not thatI have learned to love some amongst our conqueror's children andsubjects, but that does not make me forget who I am nor whence I havecome. Let us talk together of our country and of the slender hopes whichyet remain that she may gird herself up and make common cause againstthe foe. Oh, would that I might live to see the day, even though my lifemight pay the forfeit of my father's patriotism. Let Edward slay me --ay, and every hostage he holds in his hand -- so that our country shakesoff the foreign yoke, and unites under one head as one nation once again. "

These words kindled in the breast of the twin brothers such a glow ofjoy and fervour as they had not known for many a weary day. They maderoom for Arthyn to ride between them, and eager were the confidencesexchanged between the youthful patriots as they pursued their wayupwards. Little they heeded the black looks cast upon them by RaoulLatimer, as he saw Arthyn's eager animation, and understood how closewas the bond which had thus quickly been established between them andthe proud, silent girl whose favours he had been sedulously trying towin this many a day. 

Raoul Latimer was a youth with a decided eye to the main chance. He knewthat Arthyn was her father's heiress, and that she would succeed at hisdeath to some of the richest lands in Wales. Possibly her father mightbe deprived of these lands in his lifetime, as he was a turbulentchieftain, by no means submissive to Edward's rule. If that were thecase, and if his daughter had wedded a loyal Englishman ofunquestionable fidelity, there would be an excellent chance for thathusband of succeeding to the broad lands of Einon ap Cadwalader beforemany years had passed. Therefore young Raoul paid open court to theproud Welsh maiden, and was somewhat discomfited at the small progresshe had made. 

But he was a hot-headed youth, and had no intention of being thrown intothe shade by any beggarly Welshmen, be they sons of Dynevor or no, sothat when the party were forced by the character of the ground todismount from their horses and take to their own feet, he pressed up toArthyn and said banteringly:

"Sweet lady, why burden yourself with the entertainment of these wild, uncivilized loons? Surely those who can but speak the language of beastsdeserve the treatment of beasts. It is not for you to be thus --"

But the sentence was never finished. Perhaps the flash from Arthyn's eyewarned him he had gone too far in thus designating the youths, who were, after all, her countrymen; but there was a better reason still for thissudden pause, for Llewelyn's strong right hand had flown out straightfrom the shoulder, and Raoul had received on the mouth a stinging blowwhich had brought the red blood upon his lips and the crimson tide offury into his cheeks. 

With an inarticulate cry of rage he drew his dagger and sprang upon theyoung Welshman. Swords were drawn in those days only too readily, and inthis case there had been provocation enough on both sides to warrantbloodshed. The youths were locked at once in fierce conflict, strikingmadly at each other with their shining blades, before those who stood bywell knew what had occurred. 

It was only too common at such times that there should be collisionbetween the sons of England and Wales; and the suffering and the penaltyalmost invariably fell upon the latter. This fact was well known to thechildren of the king, and possibly prompted the young Alphonso to hisnext act. 

Drawing the small sword he always carried at his side, he threw himselfbetween the combatants, and striking up their blades he cried in tonesof such authority as only those can assume who feel the right is theirs:

"Put up your weapons, gentlemen; I command you in the king's name. 

"Raoul, this is your doing, I warrant. Shame on you for thus fallingupon my father's guest in his absence, and he a stranger and an alien!Shame on you, I say!"

But scarce had these words been uttered before a shrill cry broke fromseveral of the girls, who were watching the strange scene with tremulousexcitement. For young Llewelyn, maddened and blinded by the heat of hispassion, and not knowing either who Alphonso was or by what right heinterposed betwixt him and his foe, turned furiously upon him, andbefore any one could interpose, a deep red gash in the boy's wristshowed what the Welsh lad's blade had done. 

Wendot, Griffeth, and Godfrey flung themselves upon the mad youth, andheld him back by main force. In Raoul's eyes there was an evil light oftriumph and exultation. 

"Llewelyn, Llewelyn, art mad? It is the king's son, " cried Wendot intheir native tongue; whilst Joanna sprang towards her brother andcommenced binding up the gash, the lad never for a moment losing hispresence of mind, or forgetting in the smart of the hurt the dignity ofhis position. 

Llewelyn's fierce burst of passion had spent itself, and the sense ofWendot's words had come home to him. He stood shamefaced and sullen, butsecretly somewhat afraid; whilst Arthyn trembled in every limb, and iflooks would have annihilated, Raoul would not have existed as acorporate being a moment longer. 

"Gentlemen, " said Alphonso, turning to those about him, and holding uphis bandaged hand, "this is the result of accident -- pure accident. Remember that, if it ever comes to the ears of my father. This youthknew not what he did. The fault was mine for exposing myself thushastily. As you value the goodwill in which I hold you all, keep thismatter to yourselves. We are not prince or subject today, but comradesbent on sport together. Remember and obey my behest. It is not often Ilay my commands upon you. "

These words were listened to with gratitude and relief by all the partysave one, and his brow gloomed darker than before. Arthyn saw it, andsprang towards Alphonso, who was smiling at his sister in response toher quick words of praise. 

"It was his fault -- his, " she cried, pointing to the scowling Raoul, who looked ill-pleased at having his lips thus sealed. "He insulted him-- he insulted me. No man worthy the name would stand still and listen. It is the way with these fine gallants of England. They are everstirring up strife, and my countrymen bear the blame, the punishment, the odium --"

But Alphonso took her hand with a gesture of boyish chivalry. 

"None shall injure thee or thine whilst I am by, sweet Arthyn. Thenation is dear to me for thy sake, and thy countrymen shall be as ourhonoured guests and brothers. Have we not learned to love them for thysake and their own? Trouble not thy head more over this mischance, andlet it not cloud our day's sport. 

"Raoul, " he added, with some sternness, "thou art a turbulent spirit, and thou lackest the gentle courtesy of a true knight towards thosewhose position is trying and difficult. Thou wilt not win thy spurs ifthou mendest not thy ways. Give thy hand now, before my eyes, to theyouth thou didst provoke. If thou marrest the day's pleasure again, Ishall have more to say to thee yet. "

It was not often that the gentle Alphonso spoke in such tones, andtherefore his words were the more heeded. Raoul, inwardly consumed withrage at being thus singled out for rebuke, dared not withstand the ordergiven him, and grudgingly held out his hand. It was not with muchgreater alacrity that Llewelyn took it, for there was much stubbornsullenness in his disposition, and his passion, though quickly aroused, did not quickly abate; but there was a compulsion in the glance of theroyal boy which enforced obedience; and harmony being thus nominallyrestored, the party once more breathed freely. 

"And now upwards and onwards for the lair of the wolf, " cried Alphonso;"we have lost time enough already. Who knows the way to his favouritehaunts? Methinks they cannot be very far away now. "

"I should have thought we had had enough of Welsh wolves for one day, "muttered Raoul sullenly to Godfrey; but the latter gave him a warningglance, and he forbore to speak more on the subject. 

Gertrude had watched the whole scene with dilated eyes, and a feeling ofsympathy and repulsion she was perfectly unable to analyze. When theparty moved on again she stole up to Wendot's side, and said as sheglanced into his troubled face:

"He did not mean it? he will not do it again?"

Wendot glanced down at her with a start, and shook his head. 

"He knew not that it was the king's son -- that I verily believe; but Iknow not what Llewelyn may say or do at any time. He never speaks to meof what is in his head. Lady Gertrude, you know the king and his ways. Will he visit this rash deed upon my brother's head? Will Llewelynsuffer for what he did in an impulse of mad rage, provoked to it by yonhaughty youth, whose words and bearing are hard for any of us to brook?"

"Not if Alphonso can but get his ear; not if this thing is kept secret, as he desires, as he has commanded. But I fear what Raoul may say anddo. He is treacherous, selfish, designing. The king thinks well of him, but we love him not. I trust all will yet be well. "

"But you fear it may not, " added Wendot, completing the sentence as shehad not the heart to do. "I fear the same thing myself. But tell meagain, Lady Gertrude, what would be the penalty of such an act? Willthey --"

"Alphonso has great influence with his father, " answered Gertrudequickly. "He will stand your brother's friend through all; perchance hemay be detained in some sort of captivity; perchance he may not have hislands restored if this thing comes to the king's ears. But his personwill be safe. Fear not for that. Methinks Alphonso would sooner lay downhis own life than that harm should befall from what chanced upon a dayof sport planned by him and Joanna. "

And Gertrude, seeing that a load lay upon the heart of the young Lord ofDynevor, set herself to chase the cloud from his brow, and had so farsucceeded that he looked himself again by the time a warning shout fromthose in advance showed that some tracks of the wild creature of whomthey were in pursuit had been discovered in the path. 

"Do not run into danger, " pleaded Gertrude, laying a hand on Wendot'sarm as he moved quickly forward to the front. "You are so brave younever think of yourself; but do not let us have more bloodshed today, save the blood of the ravenous beast if it must be. I could find it inmy heart to wish that we had not come forth on this errand. Thebrightness of the day has been clouded over. "

Wendot answered by a responsive glance. There was something soothing tohim in the unsolicited sympathy of Gertrude. He had thought little sincethey parted two years before of that childish pledge given and received, although he always wore her talisman about his neck, and sometimeslooked at it with a smile. He had no serious thoughts of trying to matewith an English noble's daughter. He had had no leisure to spare forthoughts of wedlock at all. But something in the trustful glance ofthose dark eyes looking confidingly up to him sent a quick thrillthrough his pulses, which was perhaps the first dawning life of the loveof a brave heart. 

But there was an impatient call from the front, and Wendot sprangforward, the huntsman awakening within him at the sight of the slot ofthe quarry. He looked intently at the tracks in the soft earth, and thenpointed downwards in the direction of a deep gully or cavernous openingin the hillside, which looked very dark and gloomy to the party whostood in the sunshine of the open. 

"The beast has gone that way, " he said; "and by his tracks and thesebloodstains, he has prey in his mouth. Likely his mate may have her lairin yon dark spot, and they may be rearing their young in that saferetreat. See how the dogs strain and pant! They smell the prey, and areeager to be off. We must be alert and wary, for wolves with young onesto guard are fierce beyond their wont. "

He looked doubtfully at the girls, whose faces were full of mingledterror and excitement. Godfrey read his meaning, and suggested that theladies should remain in this vantage ground whilst some of the rest wentforward to reconnoitre. 

But Joanna, ever bold and impetuous, would have none of that. 

"We will go on together, " she said. "We shall be safest so. No wolf, however fierce, will attack a number like ourselves. They will fly ifthey can, and if they are brought to bay we need not go near them. Butwhy have we come so far to give up all the peril and the sport at thelast moment?"

"She speaks truth, " said Wendot, to whom she seemed to look. "At thisseason of the year wolves have meat in plenty, and will not attack mansave in self defence. If we track them silently to their lair, we maysurprise and kill the brood; but we are many, and can leave force enoughto defend the ladies whilst the rest fight the battle with the creaturesat bay. "

Nobody really wished to be left behind, and there was a pleasant feelingof safety in numbers. Slowly and cautiously they all followed the trackof the wolf downwards into the gloomy ravine, which seemed to shut outall light of the sun between walls of solid rock. 

It was a curious freak in which nature had indulged in the formation ofthis miniature crevasse between the hillsides. At the base ran a darkturbid stream, which had hollowed out for itself a sort of cavernousopening, and the walls of rock rose almost precipitately on three sides, only leaving one track by which the ravine could be entered. The streamcame bubbling out from the rock, passing through some undergroundpassage; and within the gloomy cavern thus produced the savage beastshad plainly made their lair, for there were traces of blood and bonesupon the little rocky platform, and the trained ear of Wendot, who wasforemost, detected the sound of subdued and angry growling proceedingfrom the natural cave they were approaching. 

"The beasts are in there, " he said, pausing, and the next moment Raoulhad loosed the dogs, who darted like arrows from bows along the narrowtrack; and immediately a great he wolf had sprung out with a cry ofalmost human rage, and had fastened upon one of the assailants, whosepiercing yell made the girls shrink back and almost wish they had not come. 

But Wendot was not far behind. He was not one of the huntsmen who giveall the peril to the dogs and keep out of the fray themselves. Drawinghis long hunting knife, and shouting to his brothers to follow him, hesprang down upon the rocky platform himself, and Llewelyn and Howel wereat his side in a moment. Godfrey would fain have followed, but his dutyobliged him to remain by the side of the princess; and he kept a firmthough respectful grasp upon Alphonso's arm, feeling that he must not byany means permit the heir of England to adventure himself into the fray. And indeed the boy's gashed hand hindered him from the use of hisweapon, and he could only look on with the most intense interest whilstthe conflict between the two fierce beasts and their angry cubs waswaged by the fearless lads, who had been through many such encountersbefore, and showed such skill, such address, such intrepidity in theirattack, that the young prince shouted aloud in admiration, and even thegirls lost their first sense of terror in the certainty of victory onthe side of the Welsh youths. 

As for Raoul Latimer, he stood at a safe distance cheering on his dogs, but not adventuring himself within reach of the murderous fangs of thewolves. He occupied a position halfway between the spot upon which thefray was taking place and the vantage ground occupied by the royal partyin full sight of the strife. 

Arthyn had passed several scornful comments upon the care the younggallant was taking of himself, when suddenly there was a cry from thespectators; for one of the cubs, escaping from the melee, ran full tilttowards Raoul, blind as it seemed with terror; and as it came withinreach of his weapon, the sharp blade gleamed in the air, and the littlecreature gave one yell and rolled over in its death agony. But that cryseemed to pierce the heart of the mother wolf, and suddenly, with almostpreternatural strength and activity, she bounded clean over the forms ofmen and dogs, and dashed straight at Raoul with all the ferocity of ananimal at bay, and of a mother robbed of her young. 

The young man saw the attack; but his weapon was buried in the body ofthe cub, and he had no time to disengage it. Turning with a sharp cry ofterror, he attempted to fly up the rocky path; but the beast was uponhim. She made a wild dash and fastened upon his back, her fangs crushingone shoulder and her hot breath seeming to scorch his cheek. With a wildyell of agony and terror Raoul threw himself face downwards upon theground, whilst his cry was shrilly echoed by the girls -- all butArthyn, who stood rigidly as if turned to stone, a strange, fierce lightblazing in her eyes. 

But help was close at hand. Wendot had seen the spring, and had followedclose upon the charge of the maddened brute. Flinging himself fearlesslyupon the struggling pair, he plunged his knife into the neck of thewolf, causing her to relax her hold of her first foe and turn upon him. Had he stabbed her to the heart she might have inflicted worse injuryupon Raoul in her mortal struggle; as it was, there was fierce fightleft in her still. But Wendot was kneeling upon the wildly strugglingbody with all his strength, and had locked his hands fast round her throat. 

"Quick, Llewelyn -- the knife!" he cried, and his brother was beside himin an instant. 

The merciful death stroke was given, and the three youths rose fromtheir crouching posture and looked each other in the eyes, whilst thewolf lay still and dead by the side of her cub. 

"Methinks we have had something too much of Welsh wolves, " was the onlycomment of Raoul, as he joined the royal party without a word to thebrothers who had saved his life. 

 CHAPTER VII. THE KING'S JUDGMENT. 

The great King Edward had been sitting enthroned in the state apartmentof the castle, receiving the homage of those amongst the Welsh lords andchieftains who had been summoned to pay their homage to him and hadobeyed this summons. 

It was an imposing sight, and one not likely to be forgotten by any whowitnessed it for the first time. The courageous but gentle QueenEleanor, who was seldom absent from her lord's side be the timespeaceful or warlike, was seated beside him for the ceremony, with hertwo elder daughters beside her. The young Alphonso stood at the righthand of the king, his face bright with interest and sympathy; and ifever the act of homage seemed to be paid with effort by some ruggedchieftain, or he saw a look of gloom or pain upon the face of such aone, he was ever ready with some graceful speech or small act ofcourtesy, which generally acted like a charm. And the father regardedhis son with a fond pride, and let him take his own way with thesehaughty, untamable spirits, feeling perhaps that the tact of the royalboy would do more to conciliate and win hearts than any word or deed ofhis own. 

Edward has been often harshly condemned for his cruelty and treacherytowards the vanquished Welsh; but it must be remembered with regard tothe first charge that the days were rude and cruel, that the spirit ofthe age was fierce and headstrong, and that the barons and nobles whowere scheming for the fair lands of Wales were guilty of many of theunjust and oppressive acts for which Edward has since been heldresponsible. The Welsh were themselves a very wild race, in some partsof the country barely civilized; and there can be no denying that a veinof fierce treachery ran through their composition, and that they oftenprovoked their adversaries to cruel retaliation. As for the kinghimself, his policy was on the whole a merciful and just one, if the onepoint of his feudal supremacy were conceded. To those who came to himwith their act of homage he confirmed their possession of ancestralestates, and treated them with kindness and consideration. He was tookeen a statesman and too just a man to desire anything but aconciliatory policy so far as it was possible. Only when really rousedto anger and resolved upon war did the fiercer side of his nature showitself, and then, indeed, he could show himself terrible and lion-likein his wrath. 

The brothers of Dynevor were the last of those who came to pay their actof homage. The day had waned, and the last light of sunset was streaminginto that long room as the fair-haired Wendot bent his knee in responseto the summons of the herald. The king's eyes seemed to rest upon himwith interest, and he spoke kindly to the youth; but it was noted bysome in the company that his brow darkened when Llewelyn followed hisbrother's example, Howel attending him as Griffeth had supported Wendot;and there was none of the gracious urbanity in the royal countenance nowthat had characterized it during the past hour. 

Several faces amongst those in immediate attendance upon the king andhis family watched this closing scene with unwonted interest. Gertrudestood with Joanna's hand clasped in hers, quivering with excitement, andever and anon casting quick looks towards her brother, who stood behindthe chair of state observant and watchful, but without betraying hisfeelings either by word or look. Raoul Latimer was there, a sneer uponhis lips, a malevolent light in his eyes, which deepened as they restedupon Llewelyn, whilst Arthyn watched the twin brothers with a strangelook in her glowing eyes, her lips parted, her white teeth just showingbetween, her whole expression one of tense expectancy and sympathy. OnceLlewelyn glanced up and met the look she bent on him. A dusky flushoverspread his cheek, and his fingers clenched themselves in anunconscious movement understood only by himself. 

The homage paid, there was a little stir at the lower end of the hall asthe doors were flung open for the royal party to take their departure. Edward bent a searching look upon the four brothers, who had fallen backsomewhat, and were clustered together not far from the royal group, andthe next minute an attendant whispered to them that it was the king'spleasure they should follow in his personal retinue, as he had somewhatto say to them in private. 

Wendot's heart beat rather faster than its wont. He had had someforeboding of evil ever since that unlucky expedition, some days backnow, on which Llewelyn's sword had been drawn upon an English subject, and had injured the king's son likewise. Raoul had for very shameaffected a sort of condescending friendliness towards the brothers afterthey had been instrumental in saving him from the fangs of the she wolf;but it was pretty evident to them that his friendship was but skin deep;whilst every word that passed between Arthyn and Llewelyn or his brother-- and these were many -- was ranked as a dire offence. 

Had Wendot been more conversant with the intrigues of courts, he wouldhave seen plainly that Raoul was paying his addresses to the Welshheiress, who plainly detested and abhorred him. The ambitious and cleveryoung man, who was well thought of by the king, and had many friendsamongst the nobles and barons, had a plan of his own for securing tohimself some of the richest territory in the country, and was leaving nostone unturned in order to achieve that object. A marriage with Arthynwould give him the hold he wanted upon a very large estate. Butindifferent as he was to the feelings of the lady, he was wise enough tosee that whilst she remained in her present mood, and was the confidanteand friend of the princesses, he should not gain the king's consent toprosecuting his nuptials by force, as he would gladly have done. Whereupon a new scheme had entered his busy brain, as a second string tohis bow, and with the help of a kinsman high in favour with the king, hehad great hopes of gaining his point, which would at once gratify hisambition and inflict vengeance upon a hated rival. 

Raoul had hated the Dynevor brothers ever since he had detected inArthyn an interest in and sympathy for them, ever since he had found herin close talk in their own tongue with the dark-browed twins, whoseantagonism to the English was scarcely disguised. He had done all heknew to stir the hot blood in Llewelyn and Howel, and that with somesuccess. The lads were looked upon as dangerous and treacherous by manyof those in the castle; and from the sneering look of coming triumphupon the face of young Latimer as the party moved off towards theprivate apartments of the royal family, it was plain that he anticipateda victory for himself and a profound humiliation for his foes. 

Supper was the first business of the hour, and the Dynevor brothers satat the lower table with the attendants of the king. The meal waswell-served and plentiful, but they bad small appetite for it. Wendotfelt as though a shadow hung upon them; and the chief comfort hereceived was in stealing glances at the sweet, sensitive face ofGertrude, who generally responded to his glance by one of her flashingsmiles. 

Wendot wondered how it was that Lord Montacute had never sought him outto speak to him. Little as the lad had thought of their partinginterview at Dynevor during the past two years, it all came back withthe greatest vividness as he looked upon the fine calm face of theEnglish noble. Was it possible he had forgotten the half-pledge oncegiven him? Or did he regret it, now that his daughter was shooting upfrom a child into a sweet and gracious maiden whom he felt disposed toworship with reverential awe? Wendot did not think he was in love -- hewould scarce have known the meaning of the phrase and he as littleunderstood the feelings which had lately awakened within him; but he didfeel conscious that a new element had entered into his life, and with ita far less bitter sense of antagonism to the English than he hadexperienced in previous years. 

After the supper was ended the royal family withdrew into an inner room, and presently the four brothers were bidden to enter, as the king hadsomewhat to say to them. The greater number of the courtiers andattendants remained in the outer room, but Sir Godfrey Challoner, RaoulLatimer, and one or two other gentlemen were present in the smallerapartment. The queen and royal children were also there, and theirplayfellows and companions, Gertrude holding her father by the hand, andwatching with intense interest the approach of the brothers and thefaces of the king and his son. 

Edward was seated before a table on which certain parchments lay. Alphonso stood beside him, and Wendot fancied that he had only justended some earnest appeal, his parted lips and flushed cheeks seeming totell of recent eager speech. The king looked keenly at the brothers asthey made their obeisance to him, and singling out Wendot, bid him by agesture to approach nearer. 

There was a kindliness in the royal countenance which encouraged theyouth, and few could approach the great soldier king withoutexperiencing something of the fascination which his powerfulindividuality exercised over all his subjects. 

"Come hither, boy, " he said; "we have heard nought but good of thee. Thou hast an eloquent advocate in yon maiden of Lord Montacute's, andmine own son and daughters praise thy gallantry in no measured terms. Wehave made careful examination into these parchments here, containingreports of the late rebellion, and cannot find that thou hast had partor lot in it. Thou hast paid thy homage without dallying or delay;wherefore it is our pleasure to confirm to thee thy possession of thycastle of Dynevor and its territory. We only caution thee to remainloyal to him thou hast owned as king, and we will establish thee in thyrights if in time to come they be disputed by others, or thou stirrestup foes by thy loyalty to us. "

Wendot bowed low. If there was something bitter in having his father'srightful inheritance granted to him as something of a boon, at leastthere was much to sweeten the draught in the kindly and gracious bearingof the king, and in Alphonso's friendly words and looks. He had nofather to look to in time of need, and felt a great distrust of thekinsman who exercised some guardianship over him; so that there wasconsiderable relief for the youth in feeling that the great King ofEngland was his friend, and that he would keep him from the aggressionof foes. 

He stood aside as Edward's glance passed on to Llewelyn and Howel, andit was plain that the monarch's face changed and hardened as he fixedhis eye upon the twins. 

"Llewelyn -- Howel, " he said, "joint lords of Iscennen, we wish that wehad received the same good report of you that we have done of yourbrethren. But it is not so. There be dark records in your past whichgive little hope for the future. Nevertheless you are yet young. Wisdommay come with the advance of years. But the hot blood in you requirestaming and curbing. You have proved yourselves unfit for the placehitherto occupied as lords of the broad lands bequeathed you by ResVychan, your father. For the present those lands are forfeit. You mustwin the right to call them yours again by loyalty in the cause whichevery true Welshman should have at heart, because it is the cause whichalone can bring peace and safety to your harassed country. It is notwillingly that we wrest from any man the lands that are his birthright. Less willingly do we do this when homage, however unwilling andreluctant, has been paid. But we have our duties to ourselves and to oursubmitted subjects to consider, and it is not meet to send firebrandsalight into the world, when a spark may raise so fierce a conflagration, and when hundreds of lives have to pay the penalty of one mad act ofheadstrong youth. It is your youth that shall be your excuse from thecharge of graver offence, but those who are too young to governthemselves are not fit to govern others. "

Whilst the king had been speaking he had been closely studying the facesof the twin brothers, who stood before him with their eyes on theground. These two lads, although by their stature and appearance almostmen, had not attained more than their sixteenth year, and had by nomeans learned that control of feature which is one of nature's hardestlessons. As the king's words made themselves understood, their brows haddarkened and their faces had contracted with a fierce anger and rage, which betrayed itself also in their clenched hands and heaving chests;and although they remained speechless -- for the awe inspired byEdward's presence could not but make itself felt even by them -- it wasplain that only the strongest efforts put upon themselves hindered themfrom some outbreak of great violence. 

Edward's eye rested sternly upon them for a moment, and then headdressed himself once again to Wendot. 

"To thee, Res Wendot, " he said, "we give the charge of these twoturbulent brothers of thine. Had not the Prince Alphonso spoken forthem, we had kept them under our own care here in our fortress ofRhuddlan. But he has pleaded for them that they have their liberty, therefore into thy charge do we give them. Take them back with thee toDynevor, and strive to make them like unto thyself and thy shadow there, who is, they tell me, thy youngest brother, and as well disposed as thyself. 

"Say, young man, wilt thou accept this charge, and be surety for thesehaughty youths? If their own next-of-kin will not take this office, wemust look elsewhere for a sterner guardian. "

For a moment Wendot hesitated, He knew well the untamable spirit of hisbrothers, and the small influence he was likely to have upon them, andfor a moment his heart shrank from the task. But again he bethought whathis refusal must mean to them -- captivity of a more or less irksomekind, harsh treatment perhaps, resulting in actual imprisonment, and asure loss of favour with any guardian who had the least love for theEnglish cause. At Dynevor they would at least be free. 

Surely, knowing all, they would not make his task too hard. The tie ofkindred was very close. Wendot remembered words spoken by the dying bedof his parents, and his mind was quickly made up. 

"I will be surety for them, " he said briefly. "If they offend again, letmy life, my lands, be the forfeit. "

The monarch gave him a searching glance. Perhaps some of the effort withwhich he had spoken made itself audible in his tones. He looked full atWendot for a brief minute, and then turned to the black-browed twins. 

"You hear your brother's pledge, " he said in low, stern tones. "If youhave the feelings of men of honour, you will respect the motive whichprompts him to give it, and add no difficulties to the task he hasimposed upon himself. Be loyal to him, and loyal to the cause he hasembraced, and perchance a day may come when you may so have redeemedyour past youthful follies as to claim and receive at our hands thelands we now withhold. In the meantime they will be administered byRaoul Latimer, who will draw the revenues and maintain order there. Hehas proved his loyalty in many ways ere this, and he is to be trusted, as one day I hope you twain may be. "

Llewelyn started as if he had been stung as these words crossed theking's lips. His black eyes flashed fire, and as he lifted his head andmet the mocking glance of Raoul, it seemed for a moment as if actuallyin the presence of the king he would have flown at his antagonist'sthroat; but Wendot's hand was on his arm, and even Howel had theself-command to whisper a word of caution. Alphonso sprang gaily betweenthe angry youth and his father's keen glance, and began talking eagerlyof Dynevor, asking how the brothers would spend their time, now thatthey were all to live there once more; whilst Arthyn, coming forward, drew Llewelyn gently backward, casting at Raoul a look of such bitterscorn and hatred that he involuntarily shrank before it. 

"Thou hast taken a heavy burden upon thy young shoulders, lad, " said awell-remembered voice in Wendot's ear, and looking up, he met the calmgaze of Lord Montacute bent upon him; whilst Gertrude, flushing andsparkling, stood close beside her father. "Thinkest thou that suchtempers as those will be easily controlled?"

Wendot's face was grave, and looked manly in its noble thoughtfulness. 

"I know not what to say; but, in truth, I could have given no otheranswer. Could I leave my own brethren to languish in captivity, howeverhonourable, when a word from me would free them? Methinks, sir, thouscarce knowest what freedom is to us wild sons of Wales, or how the verythought of any hindrance to perfect liberty chafes our spirit and fretsus past the limit of endurance. Sooner than be fettered by bonds, however slack, I would spring from yonder casement and dash myself topieces upon the stones below. To give my brothers up into unfriendlyhands would be giving them up to certain death. If my spirit could notbrook such control, how much less could theirs?"

Gertrude's soft eyes gave eloquent and sympathetic response. Wendot hadunconsciously addressed his justification to her rather than to herfather. Her quick sympathy gave him heart and hope. She laid her handupon his arm and said:

"I think thou art very noble, Wendot; it was like thee to do it. I wasalmost grieved when I heard thee take the charge upon thyself, for Ifear it may be one of peril to thee. But I love thee the more for thygenerosity. Thou wilt be a true and brave knight ere thou winnest thyspurs in battle. "

Wendot's face flushed with shy happiness at hearing such frank andunqualified praise from one he was beginning to hold so dear. LordMontacute laid his hand smilingly on his daughter's mouth, as if tocheck her ready speech, and then bidding her join the Lady Joanna, whowas making signals to her from the other side of the room, he drewWendot a little away into an embrasure, and spoke to him in tones ofconsiderable gravity. 

"Young man, " he said, "I know not if thou hast any memory left of thewords I spake to thee when last we met at Dynevor?"

Wendot's colour again rose, but his glance did not waver. 

"I remember right well, " he answered simply. "I spoke words then ofwhich I have often thought since -- words that I have not repented tilltoday, nor indeed till I heard thee pass that pledge which makes theesurety for thy turbulent brothers. "

A quick, troubled look crossed Wendot's face, but he did not speak, andLord Montacute continued -- "I greatly fear that thou hast undertakenmore than thou canst accomplish; and that, instead of drawing thybrothers from the paths of peril, thou wilt rather be led by them intotreacherous waters, which may at last overwhelm thee. You are all youngtogether, and many dangers beset the steps of youth. Thou art true andloyal hearted, that I know well; but thou art a Welshman, and --"

He paused and stopped short, and Wendot answered, not without pride:

"I truly am a Welshman -- it is my boast to call myself that. If youfear to give your daughter to one of that despised race, so be it. Iwould not drag her down to degradation; I love her too well for that. Keep her to thyself. I give thee back thy pledge. "

Lord Montacute smiled as he laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. 

"So hot and hasty, Wendot, as hasty as those black-haired twins. Yet, boy, I like thee for thy outspoken candour, and I would not have theechange it for the smooth treachery of courtly intrigue. If I had noughtelse to think of, I would plight my daughter's hand to thee, an ye bothwere willing, more gladly than to any man I know. But, Wendot, she ismine only child, and very dear to me. There are others who would fainwin her smiles, others who would be proud to do her lightest behest. Sheis yet but a child. Perchance she has not seriously considered thesematters. Still there will come a time when she will do so, and --"

"Then let her choose where she will, " cried Wendot, proudly and hotly. "Think you I would wed one whose heart was given elsewhere? Take backyour pledge -- think of it no more. If the day comes when I may come toher free and unfettered, and see if she has any regard for me, good. Iwill come. But so long as you hold that peril menaces my path, I willnot ask her even to think of me. Let her forget. I will not bind her bya word. It shall be as if those words had never passed betwixt us. "

Lord Montacute scarce knew if regret, relief, or admiration were thefeeling uppermost in his mind, as the youth he believed so worthy of hisfair daughter, and perhaps not entirely indifferent to her dawningcharms, thus frankly withdrew his claim upon her hand. It seems strangeto us that any one should be talking and thinking so seriously ofmatrimony when the girl was but fourteen and the youth three years hersenior; but in those days marriages were not only planned butconsummated at an absurdly early age according to our modern notions, and brides of fifteen and sixteen were considered almost mature. Manyyoung men of Wendot's age would be seriously seeking a wife, andalthough no such thought had entered his head until he had seen Gertrudeagain, it cannot be denied that the idea had taken some hold upon himnow, or that he did not feel a qualm of pain and sorrow at thus yieldingup one bright hope just when the task he had taken upon himself seemedto be clouding his life with anxiety and peril. 

"Boy, " said Lord Montacute, "I cannot forget what thou hast done norwhat she owes to thee. I love thee well, and would fain welcome thee asa son; but my love for her bids me wait till we see what is the resultof this office thou hast taken on thyself. Thou hast acted rightly andnobly, but in this world trouble often seems to follow the steps ofthose who strive most after the right. If thine own life, thine ownpossessions, are to pay the forfeit if thy brethren fall away intorebellion -- and Edward, though a just man and kind, can be stern toexact the uttermost penalty when he is angered or defied -- thenstandest thou in sore peril, peril from which I would shield my maid. Wherefore --"

"Nay, say no more -- say no more. I comprehend it all too well, " repliedWendot, not without a natural though only momentary feeling ofbitterness at the thought of what this pledge was already costing him, but his native generosity and sweetness of temper soon triumphed overall besides, and he said with his peculiarly bright and steadfast smile, "You have judged rightly and well for us both, my lord. Did I but dragher down to sorrow and shame, it would be the bitterest drop in a bittercup. A man placed as I am is better without ties. "

"Also the days will soon pass by, and the time will come when thischarge ceases. Then if the Lady Gertrude be still mistress of her handand heart, and if the Lord of Dynevor comes to try his fate, methinks, by what I have seen and heard, that he may chance to get no unkindlyanswer to his wooing. "

Wendot made no reply, but only blushed deeply as he moved away. Hescarce knew whether he were glad or sorry that Gertrude came out to meethim, and drew him towards the little group which had gathered in a deepembrasure of the window. Joanna, Alphonso, and Griffeth were there. Theyhad been eagerly questioning the younger lad about life at Dynevor, andwhat they would do when they were at home all together. Joanna waslonging to travel that way and lodge a night there; and Gertrude waseloquent in praise of the castle, and looked almost wistfully at Wendotto induce him to add his voice to the general testimony. But he wasunwontedly grave and silent, and her soft eyes filled with tears. Sheknew that he was heavy hearted, and it cut her to the quick; but he didnot speak of his trouble, and only Alphonso ventured to allude to it, and that was by one quick sentence as he was taking his departure atbedtime. 

"Wendot, " he said earnestly, "I will ever be thy friend. Fear not. Myfather denies me nothing. Thy trial may be a hard one, but thou wiltcome nobly forth from it. I will see that harm to thee comes not fromthy generosity. Only be true to us, and thou shalt not suffer. "

Wendot made no reply, but the words were like a gleam of sunshinebreaking through the clouds; and one more such gleam was in store forhim on the morrow, when he bid a final adieu to Gertrude before thegeneral departure for Dynevor. 

"I have my half gold coin, Wendot. I shall look at it every day andthink of thee. I am so happy that we have seen each other once again. Thou wilt not forget me, Wendot?"

"Never so long as I live, " he answered with sudden fervour, raising thesmall hand he held to his lips. "And some day, perchance, Lady Gertrude, I will come to thee again. "

"I shall be waiting for thee, " she answered, with a mixture of archsweetness and playfulness that he scarce knew whether to call childlikeconfidence or maiden trust. But the look in her eyes went to his heart, and was treasured there, like the memory of a sunbeam, for many longdays to come. 

 CHAPTER VIII. TURBULENT SPIRITS. 

The four sons of Res Vychan went back to Dynevor together, there tosettle down, outwardly at least, to a quiet and uneventful life, chieflydiversified by hunting and fishing, and such adventures as areinseparable from those pastimes in which eager lads are engrossed. 

Wendot both looked and felt older for his experiences in the castle ofRhuddlan. His face had lost much of its boyishness, and had taken athoughtfulness beyond his years. Sometimes he appeared considerablyoppressed by the weight of the responsibility with which he had chargedhimself, and would watch the movements and listen to the talk of thetwins with but slightly concealed uneasiness. 

Yet as days merged into weeks, and weeks lengthened into months, andstill there had been nothing to alarm him unduly, he began, as theinclement winter drew on, to breathe more freely; for in the wintermonths all hostilities of necessity ceased, for the mountain passes werealways blocked with snow, and both travelling and fighting werepractically out of the question for a considerable time. 

Wendot, too, had matters enough to occupy his mind quite apart from thecharge of his two haughty brothers. He had his own estates to administer-- no light task for a youth not yet eighteen -- and his large householdto order; and though Griffeth gave him every help, Llewelyn and Howelstood sullenly aloof, and would not appear to take the least interest inanything that appertained to Dynevor, although they gave no reason fortheir conduct, and were not in other ways unfriendly to their brothers. 

The country was for the time being quiet and at peace. Exhausted by itsown internal struggles and by the late disastrous campaign against theEnglish, the land was, as it were, resting and recruiting itself, inpreparation, perhaps, for another outbreak later on. In the meantime, sanguine spirits like those of Wendot and Griffeth began to cherishhopes that the long and weary struggle was over at last, and that thenation, as a nation, would begin to realize the wisdom and the advantageof making a friend and ally of the powerful monarch of England, insteadof provoking him to acts of tyranny and retaliation by perpetual andfruitless rebellions against a will far too strong to be successfullyresisted. 

But Llewelyn and Howel never spoke of the English without words andlooks indicative of the deepest hatred; and the smouldering fire intheir breasts was kept glowing and burning by the wild words and thewilder songs of the old bard Wenwynwyn, who spent the best part of histime shut up in his own bare room, with his harp for his companion, inwhich room Llewelyn and Howel spent much of their time during the darkwinter days, when they could be less and less out of doors. 

Since that adventure of the Eagle's Crag, Wendot had distrusted the oldminstrel, and was uneasy at the influence he exercised upon the twins;but the idea of sending him from Dynevor was one which never for amoment entered his head. Had not Wenwynwyn grown old in his father'sservice? Had he not been born and bred at Dynevor? The young lordhimself seemed to have a scarce more assured right to his place therethan the ancient bard. Be he friend or be he foe, at Dynevor he mustremain so long as the breath remained in his body. 

The bard was, by hereditary instinct, attached to all the boys, but oflate there had been but little community of thought between him and hisyoung chieftain. Wendot well knew the reason. The old man hated theEnglish with the bitter, unreasoning, deadly hatred of his wild, untutored nature. Had he not sprung from a race whose lives had beenspent in rousing in the breasts of all who heard them the most ferventand unbounded patriotic enthusiasm? And was it to be marvelled at thathe could not see or understand the changes of the times or thehopelessness of the long struggle, now that half the Welsh nobles weregrowing cool in the national cause, and the civilization and wealth ofthe sister country were beginning to show them that their own conditionleft much to be desired, and that there was something better and higherto be achieved than a so-called liberty, only maintained at the cost ofperpetual bloodshed? or a series of petty feuds for supremacy, whichwent far to keep the land in a state of semi-barbarism?

So the old bard sang his wild songs, and Llewelyn and Howel sat by theglowing fire of logs that blazed in the long winter evenings upon hishearth, listening to his fierce words, and hardening their hearts andbracing their wills against any kind of submission to a foreign yoke. Aburning hatred against the English king also consumed them. Had theynot, at the cost of most bitter humiliation, gone to him as vassals, trusting to his promise that all who did homage for their lands shouldbe confirmed in peaceful possession of the same? And how had he treatedthis act of painful submission? Was it greatly to be wondered at thattheir hearts burned with an unquenchable hatred? To them Edward stood asthe type of all that was cruel and treacherous and grasping. Theybrooded over their wrongs by day and by night; they carried their darklooks with them when they stirred abroad or when they rested at home. Wenwynwyn sympathized as none besides seemed to do, and he became theirgreat solace and chief counsellor. 

Wendot might uneasily wonder what passed in that quiet room of the oldman's, but he never knew or guessed. He would better have liked to hearLlewelyn burst forth into the old passionate invective. He was uneasy atthis chronic state of gloom and sullen silence on the vexed question ofEnglish supremacy. But seldom a word passed the lips of either twin. They kept their secret -- if secret they had -- locked away in their ownbreasts. And days and weeks and months passed by, and Wendot andGriffeth seemed almost as much alone at Dynevor as they had been aftertheir father's death, when Llewelyn and Howel had betaken themselves totheir castle of Carregcennen. 

But at least, if silent and sullen, they did not appear to entertain anyplan likely to raise anxiety in Wendot's mind as to the pledge he hadgiven to the king. They kept at home, and never spoke of Iscennen, andas the winter passed away and the spring began to awaken the world fromher long white sleep, they betook themselves with zest to their pastimeof hunting, and went long expeditions that sometimes lasted many days, returning laden with spoil, and apparently in better spirits from thebracing nature of their pursuits. 

Griffeth, who had felt the cold somewhat keenly, and had been droopingand languid all the winter, picked up strength and spirit as the daysgrew longer and warmer, and began to enjoy open-air life once more. 

Wendot was much wrapped up in this young brother of his, who had alwaysbeen dearer to him than any being in the world besides. 

Since he had been at death's door with the fever, Griffeth had neverrecovered the robustness of health which had hitherto been thecharacteristic of the Dynevor brothers all their lives. He was activeand energetic when the fit was on him, but he wearied soon of any activesport. He could no longer bound up the mountain paths with the fleetnessand elasticity of a mountain deer, and in the keen air of the higherpeaks it was difficult for him to breathe. 

Still in the summer days he was almost his former self again, or soWendot hoped; and although Griffeth's lack of rude health hindered bothfrom joining the long expeditions planned and carried out by the twins, it never occurred to Wendot to suspect that there was an ulterior motivefor these, or to realize how unwelcome his presence would have been hadhe volunteered it, in lieu of staying behind with Griffeth, andcontenting himself with less adventurous sports. 

Spring turned to summer, and summer to autumn, and life at Dynevorseemed to move quietly enough. Griffeth took a fancy to book learning --a rare enough accomplishment in those days -- and a monk from the Abbeyof Strata Florida was procured to give him instruction in the obscurescience of reading and writing. Wendot, who had a natural love of study, and who had been taught something of these mysteries by his mother --she being for the age she lived in a very cultivated woman -- shared hisbrother's studies, and delighted in the acquirement of learning. 

But this new development on the part of the Lord of Dynevor and hisbrother seemed to divide them still more from the two remaining sons ofRes Vychan; and the old bard would solemnly shake his head and predictcertain ruin to the house when its master laid aside sword for pen, andlooked for counsel to the monk and missal instead of to his good righthand and his faithful band of armed retainers. 

Wendot and Griffeth would smile at these dark sayings, and loved theirstudies none the less because they opened out before them some betterunderstanding of the blessings of peace and culture upon a world harriedand exhausted with perpetual, aimless strife; but their more enlightenedopinions seemed but to widen the breach between them and their brothers, and soon they began to be almost strangers to each other. 

Wendot and Griffeth regretted this without seeing how to mend matters. They felt sorry for Llewelyn and Howel, deprived of the employments andauthority they had enjoyed of late, and would have gladly given them ashare of authority in Dynevor; but this they would not accept, drawingmore and more away into themselves, and sharing their confidences withno one except Wenwynwyn. 

The summer was now on the wane, and the blustering winds of the equinoxhad begun to moan about the castle walls. The men were busy getting inthe last of the fruits of the earth and storing them up against thewinter need, whilst the huntsmen brought in day by day stores of venisonand game, which the women salted down for consumption during the longdreary days when snow should shut them within their own walls, and nofresh meat would be obtainable. 

It was a busy season, and Wendot had time and mind alike full. He heededlittle the movements of his brothers, whom he thought engrossed in thepleasures of the chase. He was not even aware that old Wenwynwyn wasabsent for several days from the castle, for since the estrangementbetween him and the old man he was often days at a time withoutencountering him. 

Llewelyn and Howel were visibly restless just now. They did not go farfrom the castle, nor did they seem interested in the spoil the huntersbrought home. But they spent many long hours in the great gallery wherethe arms of the retainers were laid up, and their heads were often to beseen close together in deep discussion, although if any person came nearto disturb them they would spring asunder, or begin loudly discussingsome indifferent theme. 

They were in this vast, gloomy place, sitting together in the deepembrasure of one of the narrow windows as the daylight began to fail, when suddenly they beheld Wenwynwyn stalking through the long gallery asif in search of them, and they sprang forward to greet him withunconcealed eagerness. 

"Thou hast returned. "

"Ay, my sons, I have returned, and am the bearer of good news. But thisis not the place to speak. Stones have ears, and traitors abound even inthese hoary walls which have echoed to the songs of the bard for moreyears than man can count. Ah, woe the day; ah, woe the falling off! ThatI should live to see the sons of Dynevor thus fall away -- the youngeaglets leaving their high estate to grovel with the carrion vulture andthe coward crow! Ah! in old days it was not so. But there are yet thoseof the degenerate race in whom the spirit of their fathers burns. Come, my sons -- come hither with me. I bring you a message from Iscennen thatwill gladden your hearts to hear. "

The boys pressed after him up the narrow, winding stair that led to theroom the bard called his own. It was remote from the rest of the castle, and words spoken within its walls could be heard by none outside. It wasa place that had heard much plotting and planning ere now, and what wasto be spoken tonight was but the sequel of what had gone before. 

"Speak, Wenwynwyn, speak!" cried the twins in a breath. "Has he returnedthither?"

"Ay, my sons; he has come back in person to receive his 'dues, ' and tolook into all that has passed in his absence. These eyes have seen thefalse, smiling face of the usurper, who sits in the halls which haverung to the sound of yon harp in days when the accursed foot of thestranger would have been driven with blows from the door. He is there, and --"

"And they hate and despise and contemn him, " cried Llewelyn in wildexcitement. "Every man of Iscennen is his foe. Do not I know it? Have wenot proved it? There is no one but will rise at the sound of my trumpet, to follow me to victory or death. 

"Wenwynwyn, speak! thou hast bid us wait till the hour has come till allthings be ripe for action. Tell us, has not that hour come? Hast thounot come to bid us draw the sword, and wrest our rightful inheritancefrom the hand of the spoiler and alien?"

"Ay, verily, that hour has come, " cried the old bard, with a wildgesture. "The spoiler is there, lurking in his den. His eyes are rovinground in hungry greed to spoil the poor man of his goods, to wrest theweapon from the strong. He is fearful in the midst of his state --fearful of those he calls his vassals -- those he would crush with hisiron glove, and wring dry even as a sponge is wrung. Ay, the hour iscome. The loyal patriots have looked upon your faces, my sons, and seein you their liberators. Go now, when the traitor whose life you savedis gloating over his spoil in his castle walls. Go and show him what itis to rob the young lions of their prey; show him what it is to strivewith eagles, when only the blood of the painted jay runs in his cravenveins. Saw I not fear, distrust, and hatred in every line of that smoothface? Think you that he is happy in the possession of what he sold hissoul to gain? Go, and the victory will be yours. Go; all Iscennen willbe with you. Wenwynwyn has not sung his songs in vain amongst thosehardy people! He has prepared the way. Go! victory lies before you. "

The boys' hearts swelled within them at these words. It was not fornothing that they, with their own faithful followers, sworn to secrecy, had absented themselves again and again from Dynevor Castle on thepretence of long hunting expeditions. It was true that they had huntedgame, that they had brought home abundance of spoil with them; butlittle had Llewelyn or Howel to do with the taking of that prey. Theyhad been at Iscennen; they had travelled the familiar tracks once again, and had found nothing but the most enthusiastic welcome from their ownpeople, the greatest hatred for the foreign lordling, who had beenfoisted upon them by edict of the king. 

Truly Raoul Latimer had won but a barren triumph in gaining for himselfthe lands of Iscennen. A very short residence there had proved enoughfor him, and he had withdrawn, in fear that if he did not do so somefatal mischance would befall him. He had reigned there as an absenteeever since, not less cursed and hated for the oppressive measures takenin his name than when he had been the active agent. 

Matters were ripe for revolt. There only wanted the time and theoccasion. The leader was already to hand -- the old lord, young inyears, Llewelyn ap Res Vychan, and Howel his brother. With the twins attheir head, Iscennen would rise to a man; and then let Raoul Latimerlook to himself! For the Welsh, when once aroused to strike, struckhard; and it cannot be denied that they ofttimes struck treacherouslybeside. 

Small wonder if, as Wenwynwyn declared, young Raoul had found but smallsatisfaction in his visit to his new estate, and lived upon it in terrorof his very life, though surrounded by the solid walls of his own castle. 

The hour had come. Llewelyn and Howel were about to taste the keen joyof revenging themselves upon a foe they hated and abhorred, about totake at least one step towards reinstating themselves in their ancestralhalls. But the second object was really less dear to them than thefirst. If the hated Raoul could be slain, or made to fly in ignominy anddisgrace, they cared little who reigned in his place. Their own tenureat Carregcennen under existing circumstances they knew to be mostinsecure, and although they had organized and were to lead the attack, they were to do so disguised, and those who knew the share they were totake were pledged not to betray it. 

Loose as had grown the bond between the brothers of late, the twins werenot devoid of a certain rude code of honour of their own, and had nowish to involve Wendot in ruin and disgrace. He was surety for theirgood behaviour, and if it became known to Edward that they had led theattack on one of his English subjects, Dynevor itself might pay theforfeit of his displeasure, and Wendot might have to answer with hislife, as he had offered to do, for his brothers. Thus, though thisconsideration was not strong enough to keep the twins from indulgingtheir ungovernable hatred to their foe, it made them cautious aboutopenly appearing in the matter themselves; and when, upon a wild, blustering night not many days later, a little band of hardy Welshmen, all armed to the teeth, crept with the silent caution of wild beastsalong a rocky pathway which led by a subterranean way, known only toLlewelyn and Howel, into the keep of the castle itself; none would haverecognized in the blackened faces of the two leaders, covered, as theyappeared to be, with a tangled growth of hair and beard, thecountenances of the sons of Res Vychan; whilst the stalwart, muscularfigures seemed rather to belong to men than lads, and assisted thedisguise not a little. 

The hot-headed but by no means intrepid young Englishman, who had nothad the courage to remain long in the possessions he had coveted, andwho was fervently wishing that this second visit was safely over, wasaroused from his slumbers by the clash of arms, and by the terrifiedcries of the guard he always placed about him. 

"The Welsh wolves are upon us!" he heard a voice cry out in thedarkness. "We are undone -- betrayed! Every man for himself! They aremurdering every soul they meet. "

In a passion of rage and terror Raoul sprang from his bed, and commencedhurrying into his clothes as fast as his trembling hands would allowhim. In vain he called to his servants; they had every man of them fled. Below he heard the clash of arms, and the terrible guttural cries withwhich the Welsh always rushed into battle, and which echoed through thehalls of Carregcennen like the trump of doom. 

It was a terrible moment for the young Englishman, alone, half-armed, and at the mercy of a merciless foe. He looked wildly round for somemeans of escape. The tread of many feet was on the stairs. To attemptresistance was hopeless. Flight was the only resource left him, and in amad impulse of terror he flung himself on the floor, and crept beneaththe bed, the arras of which concealed him from sight. There he laypanting and trembling, whilst the door was burst open and armed men cameflocking in. 

"Ha, flown already!" cried a voice which did not seem entirelyunfamiliar to the shivering youth, though he could not have said exactlyto whom it belonged, and was in no mood to cudgel his brains on the subject. 

He understood too little of the Welsh tongue to follow what was said, but with unspeakable relief he heard steps pass from the room; for evenhis foes did not credit him with the cowardice which would drive a manto perish like a rat in a hole rather than sword in hand like a knightand a soldier. 

The men had dashed out, hot in pursuit, believing him to be attemptingescape through some of the many outlets of the castle; and Raoul, stillshivering and craven, was just creeping out from his hiding place, resolved to try to find his way to the outer world, when he uttered agasp and stood or rather crouched spellbound where he was; for, standingbeside a table on which the dim light of a night candle burned, bindingup a gash in his arm with a scarf belonging to the Englishman, was atall, stalwart, soldierly figure, that turned quickly at the sound madeby the wretched Raoul. 

"Spare me, spare me!" cried the miserable youth, as the man with a quickmovement grasped his weapon and advanced towards him. 

He did not know if his English would be understood, but it appeared tobe, for the reply was spoken in the same tongue, though the words hadstrong Welsh accent. 

"And wherefore should I spare you? What have you done that we ofIscennen should look upon you as other than a bitter foe? By what rightare you here wringing our life blood from us? Why should I not stamp themiserable life out of you as you lie grovelling at my feet? Wales werewell quit of such craven hounds as you. "

"Spare me, and I renounce my claim. I swear by all that is holy that ifyou will but grant me my life I will repair to the king's court withoutdelay, and I will yield up to him every claim which I have on theselands. I swear it by all that is holy in heaven and earth. "

"And what good shall we reap from that? We shall but have anotherEnglish tyrant set over us. Better kill thee outright, as a warning toall who may come after. "

But Raoul clasped the knees of his foe, and lifted his voice again inpassionate appeal. 

"Kill me not; what good would that do you or your cause? I tell you itwould but raise Edward's ire, and he would come with fire and sword todevastate these lands as I have never done. Listen, and I will tell youwhat I will do. Spare but my life, and I will entreat the king torestore these lands to your feudal lords, Llewelyn and Howel ap ResVychan. It was by my doing that they were wrested from them. I confessit freely now. Grant me but my life, and I will undo the work I havedone. I will restore to you your youthful chiefs. Again I swear it; andI have the ear of his Grace. If thou hast thy country's cause at heartthou wilt hear me in this thing. I will give you back the lords you alllove. I will trouble you no more myself. I would I had never seen thisevil place. It has been nought but a curse to me from the day it wasbestowed. "

The man uttered a harsh laugh, and stood as if considering. Raoul, whoseeyes never left the shining blade his foe held suspended in his hand, pleaded yet more and more eloquently, and, as it seemed, with someeffect, for the soldier presently sheathed his weapon, and bid thewretched youth rise and follow him. Raoul obeying, soon found himself inthe presence of a wild crew of Welsh kerns, who were holding highrevelry in the banqueting hall, whilst his own English servants --those, at least, who had not effected their escape -- lay dead upon theground, the presence of bleeding corpses at their very feet doingnothing to check the savage mirth and revelry of the victors, who hadbeen joined by the whole of the Welsh garrison, only too glad of anexcuse for rising against the usurper. 

A silence fell upon the company as the dark-bearded soldier marched hiscaptive into the hall, the yell of triumph being hushed by commandinggesture from the captor. A long and unintelligible debate followed, Raoul only gathering from the faces of those present what were theirfeelings towards him. He stood cowering and quaking before that fierceassembly -- a pitiful object for all eyes. But at length his captorbriefly informed him that his terms were accepted: that if he wouldwrite his request to the king and obtain its fulfilment, he should gofree with a whole skin; but that, pending the negotiation, which couldbe carried on by the fathers of the Abbey of Strata Florida, he wouldremain a close prisoner, and his ransom would be the king's consent. 

These were the best terms the unhappy Raoul could obtain for himself, and he was forced to abide by them. The fathers of the abbey were honestand trustworthy, and carried his letters to the king as soon as they hadpenned them for him. Raoul was clever in diplomatic matters, and was soanxious for his own safety that he took good care not to drop a hint asto the evil conduct of the people of Iscennen, which might draw uponthem the royal wrath and upon him instant death. He simply representedthat he was weary of his charge of this barren estate, that he preferredlife in England and at the court, and found the revenues very barren andunprofitable. As the former owners had redeemed their character by quietconduct during the past year and a half, his gracious Majesty, hehinted, might be willing to gratify them and their people by reinstatingthem. 

And when Edward read this report, and heard the opinion of the fatherwho had brought it -- a wily and a patriotic Welshman, who knew how toplead his cause well -- he made no trouble about restoring to Llewelynand Howel their lands, only desiring that Wendot should renew his pledgefor their loyalty and good conduct, and still hold himself responsiblefor his brothers to the king. 

And so Llewelyn and Howel went back to Carregcennen, and Wendot andGriffeth remained at Dynevor, hoping with a fond hope that this act ofclemency and justice on the part of Edward would overcome in the mind ofthe twins the deeply-seated hatred they had cherished so long. 

 CHAPTER IX. THE RED FLAME OF WAR. 

"Wendot, Wendot, it is our country's call! Thou canst not hang back. United we stand; divided we fall. Will the Prince of Dynevor be the manto bring ruin upon a noble cause, by banding with the alien oppressoragainst his own brethren? I will not believe it of thee. Wendot, speak-- say that thou wilt go with us!"

Wendot was standing in his own hall at Dynevor. In the background was acrowd of retainers and soldiers, so eagerly discussing some matter ofvital interest that the brothers stepped outside upon the battlementedterrace to be out of hearing of the noise of their eager voices. 

There was a deep gravity on Wendot's face, which was no longer the faceof a boy, but of a youth of two-and-twenty summers, and one upon whomthe cares and responsibilities of life had sat somewhat heavily. Thetall, well-knit frame had taken upon it the stature and developed graceof manhood; the sun-browned face was lined with traces of thought andcare, though the blue eyes sparkled with their old bright and readysmile, and the stern lines of the lips were shaded and hidden by thedrooping moustache of golden brown. There were majesty, power, andintellect stamped upon the face of the young Lord of Dynevor, and it wasvery plain to all who observed his relations with those about him thathe was master of his own possession, and that though he was greatlybeloved by all who came in contact with him, he was respected andobeyed, and in some things feared. 

By his side stood Griffeth, almost as much his shadow as of yore. To acasual observer the likeness between the brothers was very remarkable, but a closer survey showed many points of dissimilarity. Griffeth'sfigure was slight to spareness, and save in moments of excitement therewas something of languor in his movements. The colour in his cheeks wasnot the healthy brown of exposure to sun and wind, but the fleetinghectic flush of long-standing insidious disease, and his eyes had afar-away look -- dreamy and absorbed; whilst those of his brotherexpressed rather watchful observation of what went on around him, andresolution to mould those about him to his will. 

Facing this fair-haired pair were the twin Lords of Iscennen, considerably changed from the sullen-looking lads of old days, but stillwith many of their characteristics unchanged. They were taller and morestoutly built than Wendot and Griffeth, and their dark skins andcoal-black hair gave something of ferocity and wildness to theirappearance, which look was borne out by the style of dress adopted, whilst the young Lords of Dynevor affected something of the refinementand richness of apparel introduced by the English. 

For the past years a friendly intercourse had been kept up betweenDynevor and Carregcennen. The country had been at peace -- such peace asinternal dissensions would allow it -- and no one had disturbed the sonsof Res Vychan in the possession of their ancestral rights. The tiebetween the brothers had therefore been more closely drawn, and Wendot'sresponsibility for the submissive behaviour of the turbulent twins hadmade him keep a constant eye upon them, and had withheld them on theirside from attempting to foment the small and fruitless struggles againstEnglish authority which were from time to time arising between theborder-land chief and the Lords of the Marches. 

But now something very different was in the wind. After almost fiveyears of peace with England, revolt had broken out in North Wales. David, the brother of Llewelyn, had commenced it, and the prince hadfollowed the example thus set him. He had broken out into openrebellion, and had summoned the whole nation to stand by him in oneunited and gallant effort to free the country from the foreign foe, andunite it once again as an undivided province beneath the rule of onesovereign. 

The call was enthusiastically responded to. North Wales rose as one man, and flocked to the banners of the prince and his brother. South Waleswas feeling the contagion of coming strife, and the pulse of the nationbeat wildly at the thought that they might win liberty by the overthrowof the foe. One after another the petty chiefs, who had sworn fealty toEdward, renounced their allegiance, and mustered their forces to jointhose of Llewelyn and David. The whole country was in a wild ferment ofpatriotic excitement. The hour seemed to them to have arrived when allcould once again band together in triumphant vindication of theirnational rights. 

Llewelyn and Howel ap Res Vychan were amongst the first to tender theirallegiance to the cause, and, having sent on a compact band of armed mento announce their coming in person, had themselves hurried to Dynevor topersuade their brothers there to join the national cause. 

And they found Wendot less indisposed than they had feared. The fiveyears which had passed over his head since he had fallen under the spellof the English king's regal sway had a good deal weakened the impressionthen made upon him. Edward had not visited the country in person sincethat day, and the conduct of the English Lords of the Marches, and ofthose who held lands in the subjected country, was not such as to endeartheir cause to the hearts of the sons of Wales. Heart-burnings andjealousies were frequent, and Wendot had often had his spirit stirredwithin him at some tale of outrage and wrong. The upright justice of theking was not observed by his subjects, and the hatred to any kind offoreign yoke was inherently strong in these sons of the mountains. Inthe studies the Dynevor brothers had prosecuted together they hadimbibed many noble thoughts and many lofty aspirations, and these, mingling with the patriotic instinct so strongly bound up in the heartsof Cambria's sons, had taught them a distrust of princes and an intenselove for freedom's cause, as well as a strong conviction that right mustever triumph over might. 

So when the news arrived that the north was in open revolt, it struck achord in the hearts of both brothers; and when the dark-browed twinscame with the news that they had openly joined the standard of Llewelyn, they did not encounter the opposition they had expected, and it was withan eager hopefulness that they urged upon the Lord of Dynevor to lendthe strength of his arm to the national cause. 

"Wendot, bethink thee. When was not Dynevor in the van when her countrycalled on her? If thou wilt go with us, we shall carry all the southwith us; but hang thou back, and the cause may be lost. Brother, whydost thou hesitate? why dost thou falter? It is the voice of thy countrycalling thee. Wilt thou not heed that call? O Wendot, thou knowest thatwhen our parents lived -- when they bid us not look upon the foe withtoo great bitterness -- it was only because a divided Wales could notstand, and that submission to England was better than the rending of thekingdom by internal strife. But if she would have stood united againstthe foreign foe, thinkest thou they would ever have held back? Nay; ResVychan, our father, would have been foremost in the strife. Are we notnear in blood to Llewelyn of Wales, prince of the north? Doth not thetie of blood as well as the call of loyalty urge us to his side? Whydost thou ponder still? Why dost thou hesitate? Throw to the wind allidle scruples, and come. Think what a glorious future may lie before ourcountry if we will but stand together now!"

Wendot's cheek flushed, his eye kindled. He did indeed believe that werehis father living he would be one of the first to hasten to hiskinsman's side. If indeed the united country could be strong enough tothrow off the yoke, what a victory it would be! Was not every son ofWales bound to his country's cause at such a time?

There was but one thing that made him hesitate. Was his word of honourin any wise pledged to Edward? He had paid him homage for his lands: didthat act bind him to obedience at all costs?

But such refinements of honour were in advance of the thought of thetime, incomprehensible to the wilder spirits by whom he was surrounded. Llewelyn answered the brief objection by a flood of rude eloquence, andHowel struck in with another argument not without its weight. 

"Wendot, whatever course thou takest thou art damned in Edward's eyes. Thou hast held thyself surety for us, and nought but death will hold usback from the cry of our country in her need. Envious eyes are castalready by the rapacious English upon these fair lands of thine, whichthese years of peace have given thee opportunity to enrich and beautify. Let the king once hear that we have rebelled, and his nobles will claimthy lands, thy life, thy liberty, and thou must either yield all inignominious flight or take up arms to defend thyself and thine own. Itrow that no son of Res Vychan will stand calmly by to see himself thusdespoiled; and if thou must fight, fight now, forestall the foe, andcome out sword in hand at thy country's call, and let us fight shoulderto shoulder and hand to hand, as our forefathers have done before us. Thou knowest somewhat of English rule, now that thou hast lived beneathit these past years. Say, wilt thou still keep thy neck beneath theyoke, or wilt thou do battle like a warrior for liberty andindependence? By our act thou art lost -- yet not even that thought canhold us back -- then why not stand or fall as a soldier, sword in hand, than be trapped like a rat in a hole in inglorious inaction? Formethinks whatever else betided thou wouldst not raise thy hand againstthy countrymen, even if thy feudal lord should demand it of thee. "

"Never!" cried Wendot fiercely, and his quick mind revolved thesituation thus thrust upon him whilst Howel was yet speaking. 

He saw at once that a course of neutrality would be impossible to him. Fight he must, either as Edward's vassal or his foe. The first wasimpossible; the second was fraught with a keen joy and secret sense ofexultation. It was true what Howel said: he would be held responsiblefor his brothers' revolt. The English harpies would make every endeavourto poison the king's mind, so that they might wrest from him hisinheritance. He would be required to take up arms against his brothers, and his refusal to do so would be his death warrant. Disgrace and ruinlay before him should he abide by such a course. The other promised atleast glory and renown, and perhaps a soldier's death, or, better still, the independence of his country -- the final throwing off of thetyrant's yoke. 

His heart swelled within him; his eyes shone with a strange fire. Onlyone thought checked the immediate utterance of his decision, and thatwas the vision of a pair of dark soft eyes, and a child's face in whichsomething of dawning womanhood was visible, smiling upon him in completeand loving trust. 

Yes, Wendot had not forgotten Gertrude; but time had done its work, andthe image of the fair face was somewhat dim and hazy. He yet wore abouthis neck the half of the gold coin she had given him; but if hesometimes sighed as he looked upon it, it was a sigh without much realbitterness or regret. He had a tender spot in his memory for the littlemaid he had saved at the risk of his own life, but it amounted to littlemore than a pleasant memory. He had no doubt that she had long ago beenwedded to some English noble, whose estates outshone those of Dynevor inher father's eyes. 

During the first years after his return home he had wondered somewhatwhether the earl and his daughter would find their way again to the richvalley of the Towy; but the years passed by and they came not, and thebrief dream of Wendot's dawning youth soon ceased to have any real holdupon him. If her father had had any thoughts of mating her with the Lordof Dynevor, he would have taken steps for bringing the young peopletogether. 

The last doubt fled as Wendot thought this over; and whilst his brothersyet spoke, pointing to the rich stretch of country that lay before theireyes in all the glory of its autumn dress, and asking if that were notan inheritance worthy to be fought for, Wendot suddenly held out hishand, and said in clear, ringing tones:

"Brothers, I go with you. I too will give my life and my all for theliberty of our land. The Lord of Dynevor shall not be slack to respondto his country's call. Methinks indeed the hour has come. I will followour kinsman whithersoever he shall bid. "

Llewelyn and Howel grasped the outstretched hand, and from within thecastle walls there burst forth the strains of wild melody from the harpof old Wenwynwyn. It seemed almost as though he must have heard thewords that bound Wendot to the national cause, so exultant andtriumphant were the strains which awoke beneath his hands. 

It was but a few days later that the four brothers rode forth frombeneath the arched gateway of Dynevor, all armed to the teeth, and witha goodly following of armed attendants. Wendot and Griffeth paused at ashort distance from the castle to look back, whilst a rush of strangeand unwonted emotion brought the tears to Griffeth's eyes which hetrusted none saw beside. 

There stood the grand old castle, his home from childhood -- the placearound which all the associations of a lifetime gathered. It was to himthe ideal of all that was beautiful and strong and even holy -- themassive walls of the fortress rising grandly from the rocky platform, with the dark background of trees now burning with the rich hues ofautumn. The fair valley stretched before their eyes, every winding ofwhich was familiar to them, as was also every individual tree or crag orstretch of moorland fell as far as eye could see. The very heart stringsof Wendot and Griffeth seemed bound round these homelike and familiarthings; and there was something strangely wistful in the glances thrownaround him by the young Lord of Dynevor as he reined in his horse, andmotioning to the armed followers to pass him, stood with Griffeth for afew brief moments alone and silent, whilst the cavalcade was lost tosight in the windings of the road. 

"Is it a last farewell?" murmured the younger of the brothers beneathhis breath. "Shall I ever see this fair scene again?"

And Wendot answered not, for he had no words in which to do so. He hadbeen fully occupied all these last days -- too much occupied to have hadtime for regretful thought; but Griffeth had been visiting every hauntof his boyhood with strange feelings of impending trouble, and his cheekwas pale with the stress of his emotion, and his voice was husky withthe intensity of the strain he was putting upon himself. 

"Griffeth, Griffeth!" cried Wendot suddenly, "have I done wrong in thisthing? I asked not thy gentle counsel, yet thou didst not bid me holdback. But tell me, have I been wrong? Could I have done other than I have?"

"I think not that thou couldst. This seems like a call from our country, to which no son of hers may be deaf. And it is true that our brothershave undone thee, and that even wert thou not willing to take up armsagainst them and thy countrymen, the rupture with Edward is inevitable. No, I am with thee in what thou hast done. The Lord of Dynevor must showhimself strong in defence of his country's rights. 

"Yet my heart is heavy as I look around me. For we are going forth todanger and death, and who knows what may betide ere we see these fairlands again, or whether we may ever return to see them more?"

Wendot would fain have replied with cheerful assurance, but a strangerush of emotion came over him as he gazed at his childhood's home, together with a sudden strong presentiment that there was somethingprophetic in his brother's words. He gazed upon the gray battlements andthe brawling river with a passionate ardour in his glance, and thenturning quickly upon Griffeth, he said:

"Brother, why shouldst thou leave it? thou art more fit for the safeshelter of home than for the strife of a winter war. Why shouldst thoucome forth with us? Let us leave thee here in safety --"

"Wendot!"

It was but one word, but the volume of reproach compressed into itbrought Wendot to a sudden stop. They looked into each other's eyes amoment, and then Griffeth said, with his sweet, meaning smile:

"We have never been separated yet, my Wendot; in sorrow and joy we haveever been together. It is too late to change all that now. I will be bythy side to the end. Be it for life or for death we will ride forthtogether. "

And so with one hard hand clasp that spoke volumes, and with one morelong, lingering look at the familiar towers of the old home, Wendot andGriffeth, the Lords of Dynevor, rode forth to meet their fate at thehands of the mighty English king. 

Of that sudden, fierce, and partially successful revolt the historybooks of the age give account. Llewelyn and his brother David, joined bythe whole strength of the North, and by much able assistance from theSouth, drove back the English across the border; and when Edward, hurrying to the spot, marched against them, his army was utterly routednear the Menai Straits, and the triumphant Welsh believed for a fewbrief months that they were victors indeed, and that the power of thefoe was hopelessly broken. 

Llewelyn with his army retired to the fastnesses of Snowdon, where theEnglish durst not pursue them, and these less hardy soldiers suffered soterribly in the winter cold that the mortality in their ranks caused thetriumphant mountaineers to prophesy that their work would be done forthem without any more exertion on their part. 

But the lion-hearted King of England was not of the stuff that easilysubmits to defeat. He knew well that Wales was in his power, and that hehad but to exercise patience and resolution, and the final victory wouldbe his. 

Permitting no relaxation of his efforts in the North, even when thewinter's bitter cold was causing untold sufferings amongst his soldiers, he commenced a muster of troops in the South, from which country most ofthe disaffected nobles had drawn away to join the insurgents under thePrince of Wales, as Llewelyn was called. It was a shock of no smallmagnitude to that prince to hear that his foe was thus employinghimself; and leaving the fastnesses of Snowdon with a picked band of hishardiest men, amongst whom he numbered Llewelyn and Howel, he marchedsouthward himself, hoping to overthrow this new force before it hadgathered power sufficient to be dangerous. 

Wendot would gladly have been of the number, for inaction, and the rudebarbarism he saw around him, were inexpressibly galling to him; and themore he saw of the savage spirits by whom he was surrounded the less hewas able to hope for any permanent advantage as the result of thisrising. The jealousies of the respective chiefs were hardly held incheck even in the face of a common peril. It was impossible not toforesee that the termination of a war with England would only be thesignal for an outbreak of innumerable petty animosities and hostile feuds. 

So Wendot would have been thankful to escape from this irksomeinactivity, and to join the band going south; but the condition ofGriffeth withheld him, for the youth was very ill, and he often feltthat this winter of hardship up in the mountain air was killing him byinches, although he never complained. 

It was out of the question for Griffeth to march or to fight. He laymost of the day beside a little fire of peat, in a cabin that Wendot andhis men had constructed with their own hands, beneath the shelter of arock which broke the force of the north wind, and formed some protectionagainst the deep snow. Griffeth had borne his share gallantly in theearlier part of the campaign, but a slight wound had laid him aside; andsince the intense cold had come, he had only grown more white and wastedand feeble day by day. Now that the sun was gaining a little more power, and that the melting of the snow bespoke that spring was at hand, Wendotbegan to hope the worst was over; but to leave his brother in such astate was out of the question, and he saw Llewelyn and Howel departwithout attempting to join them. 

Days and weeks had passed, and no news had been received by those up inthe mountains of the result of Llewelyn's expedition. It was reported byscouts that Edward was at Carnarvon Castle in person, making hostiledemonstrations of a determined kind, which, in the absence of theirchief, the wild Welsh kerns knew not how to repel. They were safe wherethey were, and awaited the return of their leader; but a terrible strokehad yet to fall upon them, which proved the final blow to all theirhopes and ambitions. 

It was a wild, windy night. Wendot had piled the fire high, and wassitting with Griffeth talking of past days, and gazing with anunconscious wistfulness into the glowing embers, which seemed to him totake the semblance of those familiar towers and rocks which he sometimesfelt as though he should never see again. Griffeth paused in the midstof something he was saying, and looked round with a start. It seemed toboth brothers as though a hand was fumbling at the latch. Wendot roseand opened the door, and a tall, gaunt figure staggered rather thanwalked into the room, and sank down as if perfectly exhausted beside theglowing fire. 

Griffeth uttered a startled exclamation. 

"Llewelyn!" he cried sharply; and Wendot, barring the door, and comingforward like one in a dream, asked with the calmness of one who readsdire disaster:

"Where is Howel?"

"Dead, " came the answer in a hollow voice, as though the speaker wasexhausted past words -- "dead by the side of Llewelyn our prince. Wouldthat I too lay beside them!"

Wendot, too stunned to say another word at that moment, busied himselfin getting his brother food and wine, of which he plainly stood sorelyin need. He ate ravenously and in perfect silence; and his brotherswatched him without having the heart to put another question. Indeedthey knew the worst: their prince dead; the flower of their army slain-- their own brother among the number -- the rest dispersed; theremaining forces without a leader, without a rallying point, without ahope. What need of farther words?

Presently Llewelyn spoke again, this time with more strength, but stillwith the sullenness of despair:

"It was a mere skirmish on the banks of the Wye. We were in advance ofthe main body, and a party of English fell upon us. We did our best tosell our lives dearly. I thought I had sold mine when my time came, butI awoke and found myself beside the stream. Howel was lying upon me, stark and dead, and our prince a few yards away, with his own men roundhim. I do not think the foe knew whom they had slain, or they would havetaken at least his head away as a trophy. I know not who took the newsto our comrades, but they learned it, and dispersed to the four winds. Iwas forced to remain for some days in a shepherd's hut till my woundswere somewhat healed, and since then I have been struggling back here, not knowing what had befallen our camp in these mountains. Am I thefirst to bear the, news, or has it been known before?"

"You are the first, " answered Wendot in a strange, blank voice. "We haveheard nothing; we have been living in hopes of some triumph, somevictory. We will let our fellows rest in peace one night longer. Tomorrow we must tell all, and decide what our action must be. "

"There is nothing more to hope for, " said Llewelyn darkly. "Our hope isdead, our last prince lies in a nameless grave. There is but one choiceopen to us now. Let those who will submit themselves to the proudusurper, and let us, who cannot so demean the name we bear, go forthsword in hand, and die fighting to the last for the country we may notlive to deliver. "

It seemed, indeed, as if Llewelyn's words were to prove themselves true;for no sooner did the news of the disaster on the banks of the Wyebecome known than the army began to melt away, like the snow in theincreasing power of the sun. The chiefs, without a head, without a causeor a champion, either retired to their own wild solitudes or hastened tomake their peace with their offended king; and only those who put honourbefore safety or life itself stood forth sword in hand to die, if itmight be, with face to foe in defence of a cause which they knew washopelessly lost. 

And amongst this gallant but reckless little band were the threebrothers of Dynevor, who, having once taken up the sword against Edward, were determined not to lay it down until the hand of death was cold uponeach heart. 

 CHAPTER X. CARNARVON CASTLE. 

"There has been a battle -- desperate fighting. They are bringing theprisoners into the guardroom, " cried Britton, bursting into the royalapartments with small ceremony in his excitement. "Come, Alphonso; come, Joanna -- let us go and see them. Our fellows say they made a gallantstand, and fought like veritable tigers. In sooth, I would I had beenthere. Methinks it is the last of the fighting these parts will see formany a long year. "

Alphonso sprang up at the word of his comrade, eager to go and see theprisoners, his humane and kindly nature prompting him to ascertain thatno undue harshness was displayed towards them by the rude soldiers. ButJoanna, although her face was full of interest and eagerness, shook herhead with a little grimace and a glance in the direction of hergoverness, Lady Edeline; for during the years that had elapsed betweenthe visit of the royal children to Rhuddlan and this present visit toCarnarvon, Joanna had grown from a child to a woman, and was no longerable to run about with her brothers at will, though she still retainedher old fearless, independent spirit and impulsive generosity oftemperament, and was a universal favourite, despite the fact that shegave more trouble than any of her younger sisters. 

The royal family had been for some time in Wales. They had wintered atRhuddlan, where the little Princess Elizabeth had been born the previousyear, just prior to the outbreak of the rebellion. Now they were atCarnarvon for greater security, the king considering that fortress thestronger of the two. The rebellion was practically at an end, but therewas much to look into and arrange with regard to the rebels and theiraffairs, and there was the prospect of a considerable sojourn at the castle. 

At this moment Edward was himself absent, though not far away. It hadbeen rumoured that there had been sharp, irregular fighting all aboutthe region of Snowdon, where the rebels had had their headquarters. Considerable excitement had prevailed for some time in the Englishranks, and there was still complete uncertainty as to the fate ofLlewelyn, Prince of Wales; for although a rumour was rife that he hadfallen in fight, it had never been corroborated by trustworthytestimony, and so long as that turbulent prince remained alive there wasno security for the peace or submission of the country. 

Thus it was that the news of a victory and the capture of prisoners wasexceedingly exciting to those within the castle. Alphonso, who waslooking somewhat stronger for his sojourn in the bracing air of Wales, sprang up to go with Britton to make inspection, and again Joannasecretly bewailed her fate at being a girl, unable to take an equalshare with her brother in such matters. 

The guardroom at the castle was a vast and really fine apartment, with avaulted roof and majestic pillars, that gave the idea of much rudestrength of construction. Just at this moment it was the scene of ananimated picture, and the boys paused at the door by which they hadentered to look about them with eager curiosity. 

The hall was full of soldiers, most of whom wore the English king'sbadge, and were known by sight to them as being attached to the castle;but mingled with these were other men, some in the English dress, butmany others wearing the wild garb of the sons of the mountains, andthese last had, for the most part, fetters on their wrists, or werebound two and two together and guarded by the English, whilst many ofthem were drooping under the effect of ghastly wounds, and several formslay stretched along the ground indifferent to, or insensible of, theirsurroundings. 

Desperate fighting there had been, indeed, to judge from appearances, and Alphonso's gentle spirit was stirred within him as he caught thesound of deep groans mingling with the loud voices of the soldiers. Hehad inherited the gentle spirit of his mother, and the generosity whichalways takes the part of the weak and oppressed. It mattered not thatthese men had been taken with swords drawn against his royal father;they were prisoners now, they had lost their all; and if rebels from theEnglish standpoint, had been striving to free their country from whatappeared to them as the unjust inroads of a foreign foe. 

Alphonso, himself sinking into an early grave, and fully aware of hisown state, saw life somewhat differently from his soldier sire, and feltlittle sympathy for that lust of conquest which was to the great Edwardas the elixir of life. The lad's thoughts were more of that eternalcrown laid up in the bright land where the sword comes not, and wherethe trump of war may never be heard. The glory of an earthly diadem wasas nothing to him, and he had all that deep love for his fellow menwhich often characterizes those who know that their time on earth is short. 

Stepping forward, therefore, with the air of quiet authority which heknew so well how to assume, he enforced silence by a gesture; and as thesoldiers respectfully fell back before him, he walked through the groupsof prisoners, speaking friendly words to them in their own tongue, andfinally gave strict command to the captain of the guardroom to removethe fetters from those who were wounded, and see that they had all duetendance and care, whilst the rest were to be guarded with as littlerigour as possible, and shut up together, where they would have at leastthe consolation of companionship in their misfortune. 

The captain gave respectful heed to these words, and was by no meansloath to carry out his instructions. He was a humane man himself, thoughinured to the horrors of war, and he, in common with all who came intocontact with the young prince, felt towards him a great love andreverence; for there was something unearthly at times in the radiantbeauty of the young Alphonso's face, and the growing conviction that hewas not long for this world increased the loving loyalty shown to him byall. 

"Your Grace's behests shall be obeyed, " answered the man readily; "Imyself will see that the wounded receive due and fitting care. They arebrave fellows, be they rebels or no, and verily I believe there is not aman of them but would have laid down his life a hundred times to savethat of the two young leaders who led them on to the last desperatesally. Such gallant feats of arms I have seldom beheld, and it was soretrouble to capture without killing them, so fiercely did they fight. ButI bid the men take them alive, if possible, as they seemed too gallantand noble to fall in that vain struggle. Methinks, could they be tamedto serve the king as valiantly as they fought for that forlorn hope, they might be well worth the saving. I am always loath to see a bravelife flung away, be it of friend or foe. "

"Right, good Poleyn; thy words do thee credit. And where are thesegallant leaders? Show me them, for I would fain speak a kindly word tothem. I would not that they feared my father's wrath too much. Stern hemay be, but cruel never, and it would please me well to bid them submitthemselves to him, that he might the more readily forgive them. Tell mewhich they be. "

"They are not here, " answered the captain; "I had them removed forgreater comfort and security to mine own lodging. One of them is so sorewounded that I feared he would not live to make submission to the kingunless he had prompt and skilful tendance; whilst the other, althoughhis hurts be fewer and less severe, looks as if some mortal sicknesswere upon him. It may be nought but the feebleness that follows loss ofblood and hard fighting; but I left them both to the care of my wife, who is the best tender of the sick that I have ever known. They cameunder her hands last night, brought on by our mounted fellows in advanceof the rest. Today they are somewhat recovered; but I have had scarcetime to think of them. I have been occupied since dawn with these otherprisoners. "

"I would fain see these youths; said you not they were but youths, Poleyn?" said Alphonso, whose interest was aroused by the tale he hadheard. "I will go to your lodging and request admittance. Your worthywife will not refuse me, I trow?"

The man smiled, and said that his wife would be proud indeed to be sovisited. Alphonso, to whom the intricacies of the castle were wellknown, lost no time in finding the lodging of the captain of the guard, and quickly obtained admittance to the presence of the wounded youths, who occupied a comfortable chamber over the gateway, and had plainlybeen well looked to by the capable and kindly woman who called Poleynher lord and master. 

The bright light of day was excluded from the sickroom, and as theprince stood in the doorway his eyes only took in the general appearanceof two recumbent figures, one lying upon a couch beside a glowing fireof wood, and the other extended motionless upon a bed in an attitudethat bespoke slumber, his face bandaged in such a way that in no casewould it have been recognizable. 

But as Alphonso's eyes grew used to the darkness, and fixed themselvesupon the face of the other youth, who was dressed and lying on thecouch, he suddenly gave a great start, and advanced with quick steps tohis side. 

"Griffeth!" he cried suddenly. 

The figure on the couch gave a start, a pair of hollow eyes flashedopen, there was a quick attempt to rise, checked by the prince himself, and Griffeth exclaimed in the utmost astonishment:

"Prince Alphonso!"

"Yes, Griffeth, it is I indeed;" and then the prince sat down on theedge of the couch and gazed intently at the wasted features of theyouth, towards whom in days gone by he had felt such a strong attachment. 

There was something of sorrow and reproach in his glance as he said gently:

"Griffeth, can it really be thou? I had not thought to have seen thee inthe ranks of our foes, fighting desperately against my father'ssoldiers. Whence has come this bitter change in thy feelings? and whatis Wendot doing, who was to act as guardian toward his younger brethren?Hast thou broken away from his controlling hand? O Griffeth, I grieve tosee thee here and in such plight. "

But Griffeth's sad glance met that of the young prince unfalteringly andwithout shame, although there was something in it of deep and settledsorrow. He made a gesture as though he would have put out his hand, andAlphonso, who saw it, grasped it warmly, generous even when he felt thathe and his father had been somewhat wronged. 

"Think not that we took up arms willingly, Wendot and I, " he saidfaintly, yet with clearness and decision. "Ay, it is Wendot who liesthere, sore wounded, and sleeping soundly after a night of fever andpain. We shall not disturb him, he is fast in dreamland; and if youwould listen to my tale, gentle prince, I trow you would think somethingless hardly of us, who have lost our all, and have failed to win thesoldier's death that we went forth to seek, knowing that it alone couldmake atonement for what must seem to your royal father an act oftreachery and breach of faith. "

And then Griffeth told all his tale -- told of the wrongs inflicted onhapless Wales in Edward's absence by the rapacious nobles he had leftbehind him to preserve order, of the ever-increasing discontent amongstthe people, the wild hope, infused by David's sudden rising, of unitingonce and for all to throw off the foreign yoke and become an independentnation again. He told of the action taken by their twin brothers, of thepressure brought to bear upon Wendot, of the vigilant hostility of theirrapacious kinsman Res ap Meredith, son of the old foe Meredith ap Res, now an English knight, and eager to lay his hands upon the broad landsof Dynevor. It was made plain to the prince how desperate would havebeen Wendot's condition, thus beset with foes and held responsible forhis brothers' acts. Almost against his will had he been persuaded, andat least he had played the man in his country's hour of need, instead oftrying to steer his way by a cold neutrality, which would have ruinedhim with friend and foe alike. 

Griffeth told of the hardships of that campaign amongst the mountains;of the death of Llewelyn the prince, and of his brother Howel; and ofthe resolve of the gallant little band, thus bereft of their hope, to goout and die sword in hand, and so end the miserable struggle that hadceased to be aught but a mockery of war. It was plainly a bitter thoughteven to the gentle Griffeth that they had not met the death they craved, but had fallen alive into the hands of the foe. 

Alphonso gently chid him, and comforted him with brave and kindly words;and then he asked what had befallen his brother Llewelyn, and if he hadlikewise fallen in the fight. 

"Nay; he was not with us when we made that last rally. He commenced themarch with us, but his wound broke out again, and we were forced toleave him behind. He and a handful of faithful servants from Iscennenand Dynevor were to try and push on to the stronghold of Einon apCadwalader, and ask counsel and assistance from him. In old days he andour father were friends. Although he was one of the few who did not joinLlewelyn in this rising, he has ever been well-disposed towards hiscountrymen. So we hoped our brother would find shelter and help there. If he had tried to march with us, he must assuredly have died. "

"Ha!" said Alphonso smilingly, "methinks Llewelyn will have no troublein gaining entrance there. Rememberest thou the Lady Arthyn, who waswith us at Rhuddlan when thou wast there before? She hath left us oflate to return to her father, whose loyalty has been proved, and whoserequest for his child was listened to graciously. But we shall be seeingthem soon again, for my father betrothed Arthyn's hand to Raoul Latimer, whom doubtless thou rememberest as a somewhat haughty and quarrelsomelad. Time has softened down some of his rude tempers, and he has everbeen eager for the match. My father has promised her hand in trothplight to him, and we await the coming of her and her father for theceremony of betrothal. 

"If I remember rightly, she was always a friend to thy brother. If so, he will find a ready welcome at her father's house, for my Lady Arthynalways had a soft spot in her heart for those we called rebels. She wasa true daughter of Wales, albeit she loved us well, and she will likethy brother none the less that his sword has been unsheathed against theEnglish usurper. "

And then the prince and the rebel subject both laughed, and that laughdid more to bring them back to their old familiar relations than allthat had gone before. 

Griffeth was easily led on to tell the story of the life at Dynevorthese past years; and Alphonso better understood from his unconsciousself-betrayal than from his previous explanation how the fire ofpatriotic love burned in the hearts of these brothers. He thought thathad he been one of them he would have acted even as they had done, andthere was no anger but only a pitying affection in his heart towards onewhose life was overshadowed by a cloud so like the one which hung uponthe horizon of his own sky. 

For it was plain to him that Griffeth's hold on life was very slight;that he was suffering from the same insidious disease which was sappingaway his own health and strength. He had suspected it years before, andthis supposition had made a link between them then; now he was certainof it, and certain, too, that the end could not be very far off. Thefine constitution of the young Welshman had been undermined by therigours of the past winter, and there was little hope that the comingsummer would restore to him any of the fictitious strength which hadlong buoyed up Wendot with the hope that his brother would yet live togrow to man's estate. 

"For myself I do not think I wish it, " said Griffeth, with one of hisluminous glances at Alphonso; "life is very hard, and there seemsnothing left to live for. I know not how I could live away from thewoods and rocks of Dynevor. But there is Wendot -- my dear, kind, mostloving brother. It cuts me to the heart to think of leaving him alone. Prince Alphonso, you are the king's son; will you pardon Wendot histrespass, and stand his friend with your royal father? I have no rightto ask it. We have grievously offended, but he is my brother --"

A violent fit of coughing came on, and the sentence was never completed. Alphonso raised the wasted form in his arms, and soothed the painfulparoxysm as one who knows just what will best relieve the sufferer. Thesound roused Wendot, who had been sleeping for many hours, and althoughhe had been brought in last night in an apparently almost dying state, his vigorous constitution was such that even these few hours' quietrest, and the nourishment administered to him by the good woman whowaited on him, had infused new life into his frame, so that he hadstrength to sit up in bed, and to push aside the bandage which hadfallen over his eyes, as he anxiously asked his brother what was amiss. 

Then Alphonso came towards him, and, holding his hand in a friendlyclasp, told him that he had heard all the story, and that he was stilltheir friend, and would plead for them with his father. Wendot, bewildered and astonished and ashamed, could scarce believe his senses, and asked, with a proud independence which raised a smile in Alphonso'seyes, that he might be led out to speedy death -- the death by theheadsman's axe, which was all he had now to hope for. Life had no longerany charms for him, he said; if only his young brother might bepardoned, he himself would gladly pay the forfeit for both. 

But Alphonso, upon whose generous spirit bravery and self devotion, evenin a foe, were never thrown away, replied kindly that he would see ifpeace could not be made with his offended sire, and that meantime Wendotmust get well fast, and regain his health and strength, so as to be fitto appear before the king in person if he should be presently summoned. 

But though the young prince left lighter hearts behind him in the roomwhere the two eagles of Dynevor were imprisoned, he found that the taskhe had set himself with his father was a more difficult one than he hadanticipated. Edward was very greatly incensed by this fierce and futilerebellion that had cost him so many hundreds of brave lives, and hadinflicted such sufferings on his loyal troops. The disaster at Menaistill rankled in his breast, and it was with a very stern brow and aface of resolute determination that he returned to Carnarvon to lookinto matters, and to settle upon the fate of the many prisoners andvassals who had once mere placed themselves or their lands in his solepower through the act which had rendered them forfeit. 

Nor was Alphonso's task rendered less difficult from the fact that SirRes ap Meredith had been before him, poisoning the king's mind againstmany of the Welsh nobles, and particularly against the sons of ResVychan, in whose possession were the province and castle of Dynevor. Upon that fair territory he had long cast covetous eyes. He cared littlein comparison for the more barren and turbulent region of Iscennen, andit was upon Wendot and Griffeth, but particularly upon Wendot, that thefull bitterness of his invective was poured. He had so imbued the kingwith the idea that the youth was dangerous, turbulent, and treacherous(charges that his conduct certainly seemed to bear out), that it wassmall wonder if Edward, remembering his own former goodwill towards theyouth, should feel greatly incensed against him. And although helistened to Alphonso's pleadings, and the lad told his story with muchsimple eloquence and fervour, the stern lines of his brow did not relax, and his lips set themselves into an ominous curve which the prince likedlittle to see. 

"Boy, " he said, with an impatience that boded ill for the success of thecause, "I verily believe wert thou in the place of king, thou wouldstgive to every rebel chief his lands again, and be not contented untilthine own throne came tottering about thine ears. Mercy must temperjustice, but if it take the place of justice it becomes mere weakness. Itrusted Wendot ap Res Vychan once, and laid no hand upon his lands. Thouhast seen how this trust has been rewarded. To reinstate him now wouldbe madness. No. I have in Sir Res ap Meredith a loyal and true servant, and his claims upon his traitorous kinsman's lands may not bedisregarded. Dynevor will pass away from Wendot. It is throwing wordsaway to plead with me. My mind is made up. I trust not a traitor twice. "

There was something in his father's tone that warned Alphonso to pressthe matter no more. He knew that when Edward thus spoke his word wasfinal and irrevocable; and all he ventured now to ask was, "What willbecome of Wendot and his brother? You will not take their lives, sweetsire?"

"Their lives I give to thee, my son, " answered Edward, with a gesturetowards his boy which betrayed a deep love, and showed that although hehad denied him sternly he did not do so willingly. "As thou hast pleadedfor them, I will not sentence them to death; but they remain myprisoners, and regain not their liberty. I know the turbulent race fromwhich they spring. Sir Res will have small peace in his new possessionsif any of the former princes of Dynevor are at large in the country. Wendot and Griffeth remain my prisoners. "

"Nay, father; let them be my prisoners, I pray, " cried Alphonso, withunwonted energy and animation. "Thou hast granted me their lives; grantme the keeping of their persons too. Nay, think not that I will conniveat their escape. Give whatsoever charge thou wilt concerning the safetyof their persons to those who guard us in our daily life, but let mehave them as gentlemen of mine own. Call them prisoners an you will, butlet their imprisonment be light -- let me enjoy their company. Thouknowest that Britton is fretting for a freer life, and that I see littleof him now. I have often longed for a companion to share my solitaryhours. Give me Griffeth and Wendot. They have the royal blood of Walesflowing in their veins, and methinks they love me even as I love them. And, father, Griffeth has not many months, methinks, to live; and I knowso well all he suffers that my heart goes out to him. He has the love ofbooks that I have, and we have so many thoughts which none seem tounderstand save our two selves. And he and Wendot are as one. It wouldbe cruelty such as thou wouldst not inflict to separate them whilst onehas so short a time to live. Give me them for mine own attendants, andbid the servants guard them as best pleaseth thee. Sweet father, I havenot asked many boons of thee. Grant me this one, I pray thee, for myheart is verily set on it. "

There was something in this appeal, something in the look uponAlphonso's face, something in the very words he had used, that made itimpossible to his father to refuse him. Blind his eyes as he would tothe truth, he was haunted by a terrible fear that the life of his onlyson was surely slipping away. Alphonso did not often speak of hishealth, and the hint just dropped struck chill upon the father's heart. Passing his hand across his face to conceal the sudden spasm of painthat contracted it, he rose hastily from his chair, and said:

"Give thine own orders concerning these youths. I leave them in thyhands. Make of them what it pleaseth thee. Only let them understand thatcharge will be given to the custodians of the castle, and of whateverplace they visit in the future, that they are prisoners at the king'spleasure, and that any attempt at escape will be punished with instantand rigorous captivity. "

"So be it, " answered Alphonso, with brightening eyes. "I thank thee, father, for the boon. Thou shalt never have cause to repent it. "

 CHAPTER XI. THE KING'S CLEMENCY. 

"Unhand me, sir. How dare you thus insult me? Let go my hand, or Isummon help instantly. I am come to seek the king. Will you raise atumult within hearing of his private apartments? Unhand me, I say, " andArthyn's cheeks flamed dangerously, whilst her eyes flashed fire. 

But Raoul Latimer, though a craven before the face of an armed foe, could be resolute enough when he had only an unprotected woman to dealwith, and was quite disposed to show his valour by pressing hisunwelcome salutations upon the cheek of the girl he regarded as hisfuture wife. His surprise at encountering Arthyn, whom he believed faraway in her father's castle, hastening alone down one of the longcorridors of Carnarvon Castle, had been very great. He could not imaginewhat had thus brought her, and was eager to claim from her the greetinghe felt was his due. 

But Arthyn had never lacked for spirit, and had always confessedlyabhorred Raoul, nor had absence seemed to make the heart grow fonder, atleast in her case. She repulsed him with such hearty goodwill that hiscowardly fury was aroused, and had not the girl cried aloud in her angerand fear, he might have done her some mischief. But even as she liftedher voice a door in the corridor was flung open, and the king himselfstrode forth, not, as it chanced, in response to the call, which had notreached his ears, but upon an errand of his own. Now when he saw that atthe doors of his own private apartments one of his own gentlemen haddared to lay rude hands upon a woman, his kingly wrath was stirred, andone blow from his strong arm sent Raoul reeling across the corridor tillthe wall stopped his farther progress. 

"How now, malapert boy?" cried Edward in deep displeasure. "Is it thusyou disgrace your manhood by falling upon the defenceless, and bybrawling even within hearing of your sovereign? You are not so wondrousvaliant in battle, Raoul Latimer, that you can afford to blast the smallreputation you have. 

"Sweet lady, be not afraid; thy king will protect thee from farther insult. 

"Ha, Arthyn, is it thou, my child? Nay, kneel not in such humblysuppliant fashion; rise and kiss me, little one, for thou art only lessdear to me than mine own children. Come hither, maiden, and speak to me. What has brought thee here alone and unannounced? And what has raisedthis storm betwixt ye twain?"

"Sire -- my king -- hear me, " cried Arthyn in a choked voice; "and bidthat wicked youth, whom I have ever hated, leave us. Let me speak to youalone and in private. It is to you, gracious lord, that I have come. Grant me, I pray you, the boon of but a few words alone and in private. I have somewhat to tell your grace -- your royal pardon to ask. "

"Pardon? tush, maiden! thou canst not have offended greatly. But comehither; what thou hast to say thou shalt say before the queen andEleanor. They have ever been as mother and sister to thee. Thou hast nosecrets for me which they may not hear?"

"Ah no; I would gladly speak all before them, " answered Arthyn eagerly, knowing that in the gentle Eleanor of Castile and her daughter she wouldfind the most sympathizing of friends. 

Intensely patriotic as the girl had ever been, loving her country aboveall else, and throwing heart and soul into that country's cause, she hadyet learned a deep love and reverence for the family of the Englishking, amongst whom so many years of her young life had been spent. Shewas able to do full justice to the kindly and domestic side of thesoldier king's nature, and, whilst she regarded him as a foe to Wales, looked upon him personally as a friend and protector. 

Edward's gentleness and affection in his private life equalled hisstern, unbending policy in matters of state. It was very tenderly andkindly that he led the girl to the private apartments of the queen; andwhen once Arthyn found herself face to face with one who had given toher more of mother love than any other being in the world, she flungherself into the arms opened to receive her, and out came the wholestory which had brought her on this secret mission to Carnarvon. 

"Sweet lady, O most gracious madam, listen and plead for me with theking. He is kind and good, and he knows what true love is. Lady, it isas a wedded wife I come to you, craving pardon for what I have done. ButI ever hated that wicked Raoul Latimer, my country's foe, and would havedied rather than plight my troth to him. And when he came to us -- he, my love, my life, he whom I loved long years ago when we met as boy andgirl, and whom I have never forgotten -- what could I do? How could Iresist?

"And my father approved. He gave my hand in wedlock. And now I am cometo pray your pardon for myself and for him whom I love. Oh, do not turna deaf ear to me! As you have loved when you were young, pardon thosewho have done likewise. "

King and queen exchanged glances, half of amusement, half ofastonishment, but there was no anger in either face. Raoul was nofavourite in the royal circle, and his visible cowardice in the recentcampaign had brought him into open disfavour with the lion-heartedEdward. He loved Arthyn dearly, and this proof of her independence ofspirit, together with her artless confidence in his kindliness of heart, pleased him not a little. He had been forced during these past days toact a stern part towards many of the Welsh nobles who had been broughtbefore him. He was glad enough, this thankless task accomplished, toallow the softer and more kindly side of his nature to assert itself. And perhaps the sympathetic glances of his son Alphonso, who had justentered the room, helped to settle his resolve that Arthyn at leastshould receive full and free forgiveness. 

Eleanor had drawn her former playmate towards her, and was eagerlyquestioning her as to the name of him to whom her heart and hand werenow given, and the answer sent a thrill of surprise through the wholecompany. 

"It is one whom you all know, sweet Eleanor -- Llewelyn, the son of ResVychan, Lord of Dynevor. Thou knowest, Eleanor, how he came amongst usat Rhuddlan years agone now, and perchance thou sawest even then how weloved one another, albeit it was but the love of children. But we neverhave forgotten, and when he came to my father's castle, wounded andweary and despairing after the disaster which robbed Wales of her lastnative prince, what could we do but receive and tend him? It was thus itcame about, and love did the rest. "

"And so thou hast wed a rebel, maiden?" quoth Edward, in tones thatseemed to be stern by effort rather than by the will of the speaker, whilst the kindly light in the eyes belied his assumed harshness; "andhaving done so thou hast the hardihood to come and tell us of it thineown self. Fie upon thee for a saucy wench! What better dost thou expectfor thyself and thy lord than a lodging in the lowest dungeon of the keep?"

"I know that we ought to expect nothing better, " answered Arthyn, withher brightest smile, as she turned fearlessly upon the king. "But do asyou will with us, noble king, and we will not rebel or complain, so thatwe may be together. And my dear lord bid me give you this. He took itwith his own hands from the dead hand of Llewelyn, Prince of Wales, andhe charged me to place it in your hands as a pledge and token that yourenemy ceased to live. Report has told him that men say Llewelyn escapedthat day, and that he yet lives to rise against you again. By thissignet you may know that he lies dead and cold, and that with him hasperished the last hope of Wales ever to be ruled by a prince of her own. "

Edward put forth his hand eagerly, and examined the signet ring, whichwas one he himself had given to Llewelyn on the occasion of his lastsubmission. And as he looked upon it a great weight seemed to be rolledfrom off him, for it was the first decided intimation he had had thathis foe was actually slain. Rumour had been rife with reports of hisescape, and although there had not been lacking testimony to the effectthat the prince had fallen in battle, the fact had never been adequatelyestablished. A few quick questions to Arthyn appeared to establish thisbeyond all doubt, and in the expansion of the moment Edward was readynot only to forgive the bearer of such welcome tidings, but to forgetthat he had ever been an offender. One of the sons of Res Vychan hadpaid the price of his breach of faith with his life; two more wereprisoners at his royal pleasure. Surely the family had suffered enoughwithout harsher vengeance being taken. Surely he might give to Arthynthe liberty and possibly even the lands of her lord in return for thewelcome intelligence she had brought. 

Alphonso, ever on the side of mercy, joined with the queen and Eleanorin persuading the king to forgive and forget, and Arthyn was sent homethe day following laden with presents and good wishes, bearing a fullpardon to her lord from the English king, as well as a half promise thatwhen the country became somewhat more settled he might make request forhis commot of Iscennen with reasonable chance of being heard. 

Wendot and Griffeth both saw their new sister before her return, andcharged her with all sorts of friendly messages for Llewelyn. If Wendotthought it hard that the brother who had always been England's bitterestfoe should be pardoned and rewarded, whilst he himself should be left topine in captivity, at least he made no sign, and never let a word ofbitterness pass his lips. Indeed he was too ill greatly to troublehimself over his own condition or the future that lay before him. Feverand ague had supervened upon the wounds he had received, and whilstGriffeth was rapidly recovering such measure of health and strength ashe ever could boast, Wendot lay helpless and feeble, scarce able to lifthis head from the pillow, and only just equal to the task of speaking toArthyn and comprehending the good news with which she came charged. 

The brothers had now been removed to better apartments, near to thoseoccupied by the prince, whose servants they nominally were. Griffeth hadbegun to enter upon some of his duties towards his royal patron, and thefriendship begun in boyhood was rapidly ripening to an intimacy whichsurprised them both. Such perfect mutual understanding and sympathy wasrare and precious; and Griffeth did not even look back with longing tothe old life, so entirely had his heart gone out to the youthful prince, whose days on earth, like his own, were plainly numbered. 

Lady Gertrude Cherleton was still an inmate of the royal household. Shewas now a ward of Edward's, her father having died a year or twopreviously. She was not considered a minor any longer, having attainedthe age of eighteen some time before, and the management of her estateswas left partially to her. But she remained by choice the companion ofEleanor and Joanna, and would probably continue to do so until shemarried. It was a source of wonder to the court why she did not makechoice of a husband amongst the many suitors for her hand; but she hadhitherto turned a deaf ear to the pleadings of all. Sir GodfreyChalloner had long been sighing at her feet, but she would have none ofhim, and appeared to be proof against all the shafts of the blind god oflove. 

But her intense excitement when she heard of the arrival at Carnarvon ofthe two brothers from Dynevor told its own tale to the Princess Joanna, who had ever been the girl's confidante in this matter, and who hadknown from childhood how Gertrude had always believed herself pledged. It was a charming secret for them to cherish between them; and now thatWendot was once more beneath the castle roof, the impulsive Joanna wouldlaunch out into extravagant pictures of future happiness and prosperity. Her ardent temperament, having no personal romance to feed upon -- forthough her hand had once been plighted, her future lord had been drownedthe previous year in a boating accident, and she was again free --delighted to throw itself into the concerns of her friend, and the senseof power which had been so early implanted within her made her confidentof being able to overcome obstacles and attain the object of her wishes, be the difficulties and dangers in their path never so great. 

"You shall be united, Gertrude, an he loves thee, " cried the generousJoanna, flinging her arms round the neck of her companion, and kissingher again and again. "His life, his liberty, shall be obtained, and thouand he shall be happy together. I have said it, and I will do it. "

Whatever was known to Joanna was known to Alphonso, who shared all herfeelings, and was most tenderly beloved by her. He was as ardent in thecause as his sister could be; but he saw more of the difficulties thatbeset their path, and knew better his father's iron temperament, and howdeeply Wendot had offended. Doubtless much was due to themisrepresentations of Sir Res ap Meredith, who had now secured forhimself the coveted lands of Dynevor; but whatever the cause, the eldestson of the house of Dynevor was the object of the king's severedispleasure, and it was not likely he would relax his vigilance ordepart from his word, not even for the prayers of his children or thetears of his favourite Gertrude. He had pardoned Llewelyn at theinstance of Arthyn; if the same game were to be played over again byanother of his daughters' companions, he would not unnaturally believethat he was being cajoled and trifled with. 

"If it were only Griffeth it would be easy, " said Alphonso thoughtfully. "But Wendot --"

And there he stopped and shook his head. 

It was some days before the king saw the new attendant of his sons; butcoming into Alphonso's private apartment one day suddenly, he foundseveral of the royal children gathered there, and with them afair-haired youth, who was reading to the prince out of an illuminatedmissal. Alphonso was lying on a couch, and his look of fragile weaknessstruck cold to the father's heart. Of late the lad's strength had beenfailing rapidly, but Edward had tried to blind his eyes to the truth. Now he took a hasty step towards the couch, and Griffeth rose quicklyfrom his seat and bent the knee before the king. 

"Ha, Wendot, " said Edward, with a grave but not unkindly glance, "I havenot seen you at these new duties before. So you are a student as well asa soldier? Well, the arts of peace will better become you for thefuture. I remember your face well, young man. I would it had not been myduty to place you under restraint; but you have broken faith with me, and that grievously. How then can it be possible to trust you in thefuture? You, as the head of the house, should have set your brothers anexample of honour and fealty. As it is, it has been far otherwise, andnow you will have to bear the burden of that breach of trust and honour. "

Twice Griffeth had opened his lips as if to speak, but Alphonso laid hishand upon his arm with a warning touch, which said as plainly as wordscould do, "Be silent. "

So the youth held his peace, and only bent his head in submission; andEdward, after a moment's pause, added more kindly:

"And how fares it with your brother, Wendot? I hear that his state issomething precarious. I hope he has the best tendance the castle canafford, for I would not that any member of my son's household shouldsuffer from lack of care. "

"He has all that he needs, I thank you, sire, " answered Griffeth. "Helies sorely sick at this present time, but I trust he will amend ere long. "

And then the king turned to his son, and spoke with him on some messageof the state, and departed without heeding the excited glances of Joannaor the restless way in which she kept looking first at Alphonso and thenat Gertrude. 

But scarcely had the door closed behind the retiring form of the kingbefore the excitable girl had bounded to her brother's side. 

"O Alphonso, " she cried, "did you do it on purpose? Tell me what youhave in your head. "

Alphonso sat up and pushed the hair out of his eyes. Griffeth was simplylooking on in surprise and bewilderment. The prince laid a hand upon hisarm and spoke very earnestly. 

"Griffeth, " he said, "it seems to me that through this error of myfather's we may yet find means to compass the deliverance of Wendot. There are none of those save ourselves who know which of you twain isthe first-born and which the youngest. In your faces there is little tomark you one from the other. Griffeth, if thou wilt be willing to becalled Wendot-- if Wendot will consent to be Griffeth -- then we mayperchance make his way plain to depart and live in liberty once more;for it is Wendot, and not Griffeth, who has so roused my father's anger. Griffeth he might easily consent to pardon; but Wendot he will keep as ahostage in his own hands possibly for life itself. "

Griffeth listened, and a strange look crept into his face. His cheekflushed, and his breath came thick and fast. He knew Alphonso's motivein suggesting this change of identity. The lads, so closely drawntogether in bonds of more than brotherly love, had not opened to eachother their innermost souls for nought. Alphonso knew that no freedom, no liberty, would give to the true Griffeth any extension of his briefspan of life. His days were as assuredly numbered as those of the royallad himself, and life had ceased to have attractions for the pair, whosespirits were almost on the wing, who had set their hopes and aspirationshigher than anything which earth could give, and whose chiefest wish nowwas to remain together until death should call them home. 

Griffeth's only trouble had been the thought of leaving his brother, andit was when he had realized from Alphonso's words that the king wasdeeply offended with Wendot, and that it was almost hopeless to think ofhis obtaining his liberty again, that the heart of the lad sank indespondency and sorrow. 

For one of the young eagles of Dynevor thus to be caged -- to be left topine away in hopeless captivity, his brother gone from him as well asthe prince who would stand his friend; possibly incarcerated at last insome dreary fortress, there to linger out his days in hopeless miseryand inaction -- the thought had been so terrible to Griffeth that therehad been moments when he had almost longed to hear that the leeches gaveup hope of saving his brother's life. 

But Wendot was mending now; there was no doubt of ultimate recovery. Hewould rise from his sickbed to find -- what? Griffeth had not dared toask himself this question before; but now a great hope possessed himsuddenly. He looked into Alphonso's eyes, and the two instantlyunderstood one another; as did also Gertrude and Joanna, who stood byflushed and quivering. 

"Let it be so, " said Griffeth, in a voice which trembled a little, although the words were firm and emphatic. "I take the name the king hasgiven me. I am Wendot, whom he believes the traitor and the foe. Griffeth lies yonder, sick and helpless, a victim to the influence ofthe first-born son of Res Vychan. It may be, when the king hears more ofhim, he will in his clemency release and pardon him. 

"Ah, if I could but be the means of saving my brother -- the brotherdearer to me than life -- from the fate which others have brought uponhim, that I could lay down my life without a wish ungratified! It hasbeen the only thought of bitterness in my cup that I must leave himalone -- and a prisoner. "

Gertrude's face had flushed a deep red; she put out her hand and claspedthat of Griffeth hard; there was a little sob in her voice as she said:

"Oh, if you will but save him -- if you will but save him!"

Griffeth looked into her sweet face, with its sensitive features andsoft eyes shining through a mist of tears, and he understood somethingwhich had hitherto been a puzzle to him. 

There had been days when the intermittent fever from which Wendotsuffered left him entirely for hours together, sometimes for a wholeday; and Griffeth had been sure that on some of these days, in the hoursof his own attendance on the prince, his brother had received visitsfrom others in the castle: for flowers had appeared to brighten the sickroom, and there had been a wonderful new look of happiness in thepatient's eyes, although he had said nothing to his brother as to whathad befallen him. 

And in truth Wendot was half disposed to believe himself the victim ofsome sweet hallucination, and was almost afraid to speak of the fanciesthat floated from time to time before his eyes, lest he should be toldthat his mind was wandering, and that he was the victim of delusion. 

Not once alone, but many times, during the hours of his tardyconvalescence, when he had been lying alone, crushed by the sense ofweariness and oppression which illness brings to one so littleaccustomed to it, he had been roused by the sound of light footfalls inhis room; he had seen a graceful form flitting about, bringing lightnessand beauty in her wake, and leaving it behind when she left. The visionof a sweet, small face, and the lustrous dark eyes which had haunted himat intervals through the long years of his young manhood, appeared againbefore him, and sometimes his name was spoken in the gentle tones whichhad never been forgotten, although the memory was growing dim. 

Weak and dazed and feeble, both in body and mind, from the exhaustingand wasting illness that had followed the severe winter's campaign, Wendot knew not if this vision was but the figment of his own brain, orwhether the passionate love he felt rising up in his heart was lavishedupon a mere phantom. But so long as she flitted about him he was contentto lie and watch her, with the light of a great happiness in his eyes;and once when he had called her name -- the never forgotten name ofGertrude -- he had thought that she had come and taken his hand and hadbent over him with a wonderful light in her eyes, but the very effort hemade to rise up and grasp her hands, and learn if indeed it were acreature of flesh and blood, had resulted in a lapse back intounconsciousness, and he was silent as to the vision even to Griffeth, lest perchance he should have to learn that it was but a fevered dream, and that there was no Gertrude within the castle walls at all. 

But Gertrude knew all; it was no dream to her. She saw the love light inthe eyes dearest to her in the world. She had heard her name called; shehad seen that the love she had cherished for the hero of her childhoodhad not been cherished in vain. Perhaps Wendot had betrayed more in hissickness and weakness than he would have allowed himself to do in hisstrength, knowing himself a helpless, landless prisoner in the hands ofthe stern monarch who occupied England's throne. But be that as it may, Gertrude had read his secret and was happy, though with such a chastenedhappiness as alone was possible to one who knew the peril in which herlover lay, and how hopeless even Alphonso thought it to obtain for himthe king's pardon. 

"My father would have betrothed us as children, " said Gertrude, her faceglowing, but her voice steady and soft, for why should she be ashamed ofthe faithful love of a lifetime?

"When we saw each other again he would have plighted us, but for thefear of what Llewelyn and Howel would do. But think you I love him lessfor his love to his country? Think you that I have aught to reproach himwith, when I know how he was forced into rebellion by others? I care notwhat he has done. I love him, and I know that he loves me. Sooner wouldI share a prison with him than a palace with any man beside; yet I fearthat in prison walls he will pine and die, even as a caged eagle, and itis that fear which breaks my heart. 

"O Griffeth, Griffeth, if you can save him, how we will bless you from, our hearts! Give him to me, and I will guard and cherish him. I havewealth and lands for us both. Only his liberty is lacking --"

"And that we will strive to compass yet, " said Alphonso gently. "Fearnot, sweet Gertrude, and betray not thyself. Only remember from thistime forward that Wendot is my friend and companion here, and that thylover Griffeth lieth in yon chamber, sick and stricken. "

"I will remember, " she answered resolutely; and so the change ofidentity was accomplished, with the result that the old chroniclers averthat Wendot, eldest son of Res Vychan, died in the king's prison inEngland, whilst all that is known of the fate of Griffeth is that he waswith his brother in captivity in England in the year 1283, after whichhis name completely disappears, and no more is known of him, good or bad. 

That night there were commotion and distress in Carnarvon Castle, forthe young Alphonso broke a blood vessel in a violent fit of coughing, and for some hours his life was in the utmost danger. 

The skill of the leeches, however, combined with the tender care of hismother and sisters, averted for a time fatal consequences, and in a fewdays the prince was reported to be out of immediate danger. But thedoctors all agreed that it would not be wise for him to remain longer inthe colder air of north Wales, and advised an immediate removal toWindsor, where more comforts could be obtained, and where the climatewas milder and more genial. 

Edward's work in Wales was done. The country was quiet, and he had nolonger any fear of serious rebellion. The first thought in his mind wasthe precarious condition of his son, and immediate steps were taken toconvey the invalid southward by slow and gentle stages. 

A horse litter was prepared for him, and by his own special request thiseasy conveyance was shared by him with the two Welsh youths, to whom, ashis father and mother thought, he had taken one of those strange sickfancies not uncommon to those in his state of health. 

Wendot, as he called the younger brother, had been his most devotednurse during the days of peril, and his quick understanding of theunspoken wishes of the prince had evoked a real and true gratitude fromthe royal parents. 

The real Wendot was by this time so far recovered as to be able to bearthe journey, and illness had so wasted him that he looked no older thanGriffeth; and though still perplexed at being called Griffeth, and by nomeans understanding his brother's earnest request that he would continueto answer to the name, he was too weak to trouble his head much aboutthe matter; and the two Welsh brothers were regarded by the Englishattendants as too insignificant to be worthy of much notice. Theprince's freak to have them as travelling-companions was humoured by hisparents' wish; but they little knew how much he was wrapped up in thebrothers, nor how completely his heart was set upon seeing theaccomplishment of his plan before he died. 

Alphonso had all his senses about him, and the wistful look onGriffeth's face, as the mountains of his beloved Wales grew dim in thedistance, was not lost upon him. Wendot was sleeping restlessly in thelitter, and Alphonso stretched out his hand, and laid it gently uponGriffeth's. 

"Art regretting that thou leavest all for me?" he asked gently; and theanswer was such a look of love as went to his very heart. 

"Nay; I would leave far more than that for thee, sweet prince, but it ismy last look at home. I shall see these grand, wild hills no more. "

"No, nor yet I, " answered the prince, his own eyes growing somewhat dim;"and I, too, have loved them well, though not as thou lovest, my friend. But be content; there are fairer things, sweeter scenes than even these, in store for us somewhere. Shall we repine at leaving the beauties ofearth, when the pearly gates of Paradise are opening before our very eyes?

"O Griffeth, it is a wondrous thought how soon we may be soaring abovethe very stars! And methinks it may well be given to thee to wing thyway to thine own home for one last look ere thou departest for the holyland whence we can never wish to return. "

Griffeth gave him a bright, eager look. 

"I will think that myself -- I will believe it. This is not my lastfarewell. "

 CHAPTER XII. A STRANGE BRIDAL. 

"My prince, tempt me not. It is hard to refuse; but there are somethings no man may do with honour, and, believe me, honour is dearer tome than life, dearer even than liberty; though Heaven alone knows howdear that is to every free-born son of Cambria. I to leave my brother towear away his days in captivity whilst I escape under his name! PrinceAlphonso, I know not what you think my heart is made of. Am I to live infreedom, whilst he whom I love best in the world bears the burden of myfault, and lingers out his young life within the walls of the king'sprison?"

Alphonso looked searchingly in Wendot's face, and realized for the firsttime the youth's absolute ignorance of his brother's state. No wonder herefused with scorn the proffered boon! Yet it would be a hard task tobreak the sad tidings to one who so deeply loved his gentle youngerbrother, from childhood his chosen comrade. 

Alphonso was lying on a couch in one of the smaller state apartments ofWindsor Castle, and the window, close to which he had bidden hisattendants wheel him, overlooked the beautiful valley of the Thames. Thefirst of the autumn tints were gilding the rich stretches of woodland, whilst a faint blue haze hung over the distance, and the river ran likea silver thread, glinting here and there into golden brightness as somebrighter ray of sunlight fell upon it. 

Alphonso loved the view commanded by this window. He and Griffeth spentmany long happy hours here, looking out on the fair prospect, andexchanging whispered thoughts and bright aspirations with regard to someland even fairer than the one they now beheld. 

But Wendot never looked at the beautiful valley without experiencing astrange oppression of spirit. It reminded him of that wilder valley ofthe Towy, and his eyes would grow dim and his heart sick with thefruitless longing after home, which grew harder and harder to hear withevery week of captivity, now that his bodily health was restored. Captivity was telling upon him, and he was pining as an eagle pines whencaught and shut up by man even in a gilded cage. He looked pale and wanand wistful. Often he felt stifled by the warm, close air of the valley, and felt that he must die did he not escape to the freer air of themountains. 

But he seldom spoke of these feelings even to Griffeth, and strangelyenough his illness and these homesick longings produced upon his outerman an effect which was wonderfully favourable to the plan fermenting inthe brains of the royal children and their immediate companions. 

Wendot had lost the sturdiness of figure, the brown colouring, and thestrength of limb which had distinguished him in old days from Griffeth. A striking likeness had always existed between the brothers, whosefeatures were almost identical, and whose height and contours were thesame. Now that illness had sharpened the outlines of Wendot's face, hadreduced his fine proportions, and had given to him something of thehollow-eyed wistfulness of expression which Griffeth had so long worn, this likeness became so remarkable that few in the castle knew onebrother from the other. Knowing this, they both answered indifferentlyto the name of either, and any change of personality would be managedwithout exciting the smallest fear of remark. 

Wendot had been perplexed at times by the persistence with which he hadbeen addressed as Griffeth, even when he was certain that the speakerwas one of the few who knew him and his brother apart; but he had nottroubled his head much over the matter until this day, when Alphonso hadopenly spoken to him of the plan that was in their minds, and had biddenhim prepare for a secret flight from the castle, promising that thereshould be no ardent search after him, as Wendot, and not Griffeth, wasthe culprit who had fallen under the royal displeasure, and the kingwould care little for the escape of the younger brother so long as heheld the ex-Lord of Dynevor in his own safe keeping. 

Wendot's indignant refusal to leave his brother and make good his ownescape showed Alphonso how little he realized Griffeth's condition, andwith gentle sympathy, but with candour and frankness, he explained tothe elder brother how short would be the period of Griffeth's captivity-- how soon and how complete the release for which he was patiently andhappily waiting. 

Wendot gave a great start as the meaning of Alphonso's words first brokeupon him, and then he buried his face in his hands, and sat motionless, neither answering nor moving. Alphonso looked at him, and by-and-by putout his own wasted hand and laid it upon Wendot's knee. 

"Does it seem a sad thing to thee, Wendot? Believe me, there is nosadness for Griffeth in the thought. Nay, is it not a blessed thing toknow that soon, very soon, we shall be free of this weary burden of painand sickness and weakness, and laying all aside will pass away to theland of which the seer of old foretold that 'the wicked cease fromtroubling, and the weary are at rest. ' Thou knowest not, perhaps, thesweetness of those words, but I know it well, and Griffeth likewise. 

"Nay, Wendot, thou must learn not to grudge him the rest and the blissof yon bright land. In this world he could look for nothing save wearingweakness and lingering pain. Thou shouldst be glad that the fiat hasgone forth, and that the end may not be far off -- the end of troubleand sorrow; for of the glory that shall follow there shall be no end. "

But Wendot broke in hoarsely and impetuously. 

"If he must die, let him at least die in freedom, with the old hillsaround him; let him be laid to rest beneath their shadow. You say thathe might well escape; that no cry would be made after him so long as Iwere in the king's safe keeping. Let him then fly. Let him fly toLlewelyn and Arthyn. They will give him tendance and a home. He shallnot die in prison, away from all that he holds dear. I cannot brook thethought!"

"Nay, Wendot, " answered Alphonso with a kindling smile, "thou needestnot grieve for thy brother because that he is here. Ask him -- take itnot from my lips; but I will tell thee this, that where thou art andwhere I am is the place where Griffeth would fain end his days. Ah! thoucanst not understand, good youth, how when the great and wonderful callcomes for the human soul, how lightly press the fetters of the flesh;how small these things of time and place appear that erst have been ofsuch moment. Griffeth and I are treading the same path at the same time, and I think not even the offer of a free pardon and unfettered libertywould draw him from my side. 

"Moreover, Wendot, he could not take the journey of which thou speakest. The keen autumn air, which will give thee strength and vigour, would butlay him low on the bed from which he would never rise. His heart is herewith me. Think not that thou art wronging him in taking his name. Theone load lying now upon his heart is the thought that he is leaving theein captivity. Let him but know that thou art free -- that he has beenthy helper in thy flight -- and he will have nought left to wish for inthis world. His soul will be at peace. "

Wendot rose and paced through the chamber, and then returned to the sideof the prince. His face betrayed many conflicting emotions. He spokewith bitterness and impetuosity. 

"And what good is life to me if I take you at your word and fly thisspot? Have I not lost all that makes life worth living? My lands givento my traitorous kinsman; the brother who has been more to me than lifelying in a foreign grave. What use is life to one so lonely and bereft?Where should I fly? what should I do? I have never lived alone. I havealways had another to live for and to love. Methinks death would be thebetter thing than such a loveless life. "

"And why should thy life be loveless, Wendot?" asked Alphonso, withkindling eyes and a brightening smile. "Dost not thou know? -- does notthine own heart tell thee that one faithful heart beats for thee andthee alone? Have I not seen thee with her times and again? Have not youreyes told eloquent secrets -- though I know not what your lips have said --"

Wendot's face was all in a glow, but he broke in hastily:

"Prince, prince, speak not of her. If I have been beguiled, if I havebetrayed the feelings which I cannot help, but which I must hold sternlyin check -- be not thou the one to taunt me with my weakness. There isnone like her in the world. I have known it for long. But even because Iknow it so well I may not even dream of her. It is not with me as ofold, when her father spoke to me of troth plight. I am a beggar, anoutcast, a prisoner. She is rich, honoured, courted. She is thebrightest star of the court --"

"And she loveth thee, Wendot, " interposed Alphonso firmly. "She hasloved thee from childhood with a faithful and true love which meritsbetter things than to be cast aside as if it were but dross. What arelands and gold to a woman if her lover share them not? Is it meet thatshe should suffer so cruelly simply because her father has left her wellendowed? Wendot, on Lord Montacute's dying bed this daughter of hisavowed her love for thee, and he gave her his blessing and bade her actas she would. Art thou, then, to be the one to break her heart, ay, andthine own, too, because thou art too proud to take more than thou canstgive?

"Fie, man! the world is wide and thou art young. Thou hast time to winthy spurs and bring home noble spoil to lay at thy lady's feet. Only letnot pride stand in the way of her happiness and thine own. Thou hastsaid that life is dark and drear unless it be shared with some lovedone. Then how canst thou hold back, when thou hast confessed thine ownlove and learned that hers is thine? Take it, and be grateful for thetreasure thou hast won, and fear not but that thou wilt bring as much asthou wilt receive. There are strange chances in the fate of each one ofus. Who knows but that thou and she will not yet reign again in thehalls of Dynevor?"

Wendot started and flushed, and again paced down the whole length of theroom. When he returned to the window Alphonso had gone, and in his placestood Gertrude herself, her sweet face dyed rosy red with blushes, herhands half stretched out towards him, her lips quivering with theintensity of her emotion. 

He paused just one moment looking at her, and then holding out his arms, he said:

"Gertrude!"

Next moment she was clasped in his close embrace, and was shedding happytears upon his shoulder. 

"Oh!" said Gertrude at last, in a soft whisper, "it was worth waitingfor this. I never thought I could have been so happy. "

"Joanna -- Alphonso, it is all settled. He will leave the castle withme. He will help me now in the care of my lands. But he will not movewhilst Griffeth lives. And I think he is right. They have so loved eachother, and he will not leave his brother to die amongst strangers incaptivity. "

"It is like him, " said Joanna eagerly. "Gertrude, thou hast found a veryproper knight, as we told thee from the first, when he was but a lad, and held the Eagle's Crag against a score of men. But ye must be weddedsoon, that there be no delay when once the poor boy be gone. Every dayhe looks more shadowy and frail. Methinks that our softer air ill suitshim, for he hath dwindled to a mere shadow since he came. You will nothave to wait long. "

"Joanna speaks the truth, " said Alphonso, half sadly, half smilingly. "He will not be with us long. But it is very true that this marriagemust be privately celebrated, and that without delay, that when the daycomes when 'Griffeth' flies from the castle, he and his wife may gotogether. "

"Ay, and my chaplain will make them man and wife, and breathe not a wordto any man, " cried Joanna, who, now that she was older, had her ownretinue of servants, equal in number to those of her sister, by whom shewas dearly loved for her generosity and frankness, so that she couldalways command ready and willing obedience to any expressed wish of hers. 

"You think he will? O Joanna, when shall it be?"

"It shall be at midnight in the chapel, " said the girl, with the promptdecision which characterized her. "Not tonight, but three nights fromthis. Leave all things in my hands, sweet Gertrude; I will see thatnought is lacking to bind thee lawfully to thy lord. My chaplain is agood and holy man from the west country. He loveth those poor Welsh whoare prisoners here, and spends much of his time in ministering to them. He loves thy future lord and his dying brother, and he knows somewhat ofour plan, for I have revealed it in the confessional, and he has notchided me for it. 

"Oh, I can answer for him. He will be glad that thou shouldst find soproper a knight; and he is kind of heart, and stanch to my service. Fearnot, sweet Gertrude: ere three days have gone by thou shalt be a weddedwife; and when the time comes thou mayest steal away with him thyplighted lord, and trust thy sister Joanna to make thy peace with theking, if he be in any way angered or grieved. "

Gertrude threw herself into Joanna's arms and kissed her a hundredtimes; and Joanna laughed, and said she deserved much credit forplotting to rid herself of her dearest friend, but was none the lessloyal to the cause because Gertrude's gain would be her loss. 

So there came a strange night, never to be forgotten by those whowitnessed the proceedings, when Wendot ap Res Vychan and the LadyGertrude Cherleton stood at midnight before the altar in the smallprivate chapel of the castle, whilst the chaplain of the PrincessJoanna's private suite made them man and wife according to the law ofthe Church. And of the few spectators who witnessed the ceremony twowere of royal blood -- Alphonso and Joanna -- and beside them were onlyone or two attendants, sworn to secrecy, and in full sympathy with theyouthful lovers thus plighting their troth and being united in wedlockat one and the same time. 

Griffeth was not of the number who was present to witness this ceremony. He was unable to rise from his bed, a sudden access of illness havingovertaken him, possibly as the result of the excitement of hearing whatwas about to take place. 

When the solemn words had been spoken, and the bride was led away by herproud and happy spouse -- happy even in the midst of so much peril andsorrow in the thought of the treasure he had won -- she paused at thedoor of her apartments, whither he would have left her (for so long asthey remained within the walls of the castle they would observe the samemanner of life as before), and glancing into his face said softly:

"May I not go with thee to tell the news to Griffeth?"

"Ay, well bethought, " said Alphonso, who was leaning on Wendot's otherarm, the distance through the long passages being somewhat fatiguing tohim. "Let us go and show to him thy wife. None will rejoice more than heto know that she is thine in very truth, and that none can take her fromthee. "

Griffeth's room was nigh at hand, and thither Wendot led his bride. Ataper was burning beside the bed, and the sick youth lay propped up withpillows, his breath coming in laboured gasps, though his eyes werebright and full of comprehension as Wendot led the slim, white-robedfigure to his side. 

But the elder brother was startled at the change he saw in his patientsince he had left him last. There was something in his look that struckchill upon his heart. He came forward and took the feeble hand in his. It was deadly cold, and the unearthly radiance upon the lad's face wasas significant in its own way. Had not their mother looked at them withjust such a smile when she had slipped away into another world, whilstthey were trying to persuade themselves that she was better?

"My sister Gertrude, " whispered Griffeth. "Oh, I am so happy! You willbe good to him -- you will comfort him. 

"Wendot -- Gertrude --" he made a faint effort, and joined their handstogether; and then, as if his last earthly task was accomplished, heseemed to look right on beyond them, whilst a strange expression of aweand wonder shone from his closing eyes. 

"Howel, " he whispered -- "father -- mother -- oh, I am coming! Take mewith you. "

Then the head fell backwards, the light vanished from the eyes, the coldhand fell nervelessly from Wendot's grasp, and they knew that Griffethwas the king's prisoner no longer. 

Three days later the Lady Gertrude Cherleton said farewell to her royalcompanions, and started forth for her own estates in Derbyshire, whichshe had purposed for some time to visit. Perhaps had the minds of thosein the castle been free to wonder at anything so trivial as themovements of the young heiress, they would have felt surprise at herselecting this time to betake herself to a solitary and independentexistence, away from all her friends and playmates; but the mortalillness of the Prince Alphonso occupied the whole attention of thecastle. The remains of the so-called Wendot, late of Dynevor, had beenlaid to rest with little ceremony and no pomp, and the very existence ofthe other brother was almost forgotten in the general dismay and griefwhich permeated through all ranks of people both within and without thecastle walls. 

The lady had a small but sufficient retinue; but it was consideredrather strange that she should not start until the dusk had begun togather round the castle, so that the confusion of the start was a gooddeal increased from the darkness which was stealing upon the place. Hadthere been much time or attention free, it might have been noted by akeen observer that Lady Gertrude had added to her personal attendantsone who looked like a tall and stout woman, though her hood was soclosely drawn that her face was seen by none of the warders, who, however, let her pass unchallenged: for she rode beside her mistress, and was evidently in the position of a trusted companion; for the ladywas speaking to her as they passed out through the gate, and there couldcertainly be no reason for offering any obstruction to any servant of hers. 

If there were any fear or excitement in Gertrude's breast as she and herhusband passed out of the gate and rode quickly along the path which ledthrough the town, she did not betray it by look or gesture. Hereagerness was mainly showed by a desire to push on northward as fast aspossible, and the light of a full harvest moon made travelling almost aseasy as by day. On they rode, by sleeping hamlets and dreaming pastures, until the lights of Windsor lay twinkling in the dim, hazy distancemiles away. 

Then Gertrude suddenly threw back her hood, and leaning towards hercompanion -- they two had outridden their followers some time before --cried in a strange, tense voice:

"O Wendot husband, thou art free! Tomorrow will see us safe within thosehalls of which thou art rightful lord. Captivity, trouble, peril is atan end. Nothing can greatly hurt us now, for are we not one in bondsthat no man may dissever?"

"My noble, true-hearted wife, " said Wendot, in accents of intensefeeling; and then he leaned forward and kissed her in the whisperingwood, and they rode forward through the glades of silvery moonlighttowards the new life that was awaiting them beyond. 

"Hills, wild rocks, woods, and water!" cried Wendot, with a suddenkindling gleam in his eyes. "O Gertrude, thou didst not tell me thehalf! I never guessed that England had aught so like home as this. Trulyit might be Dynevor itself -- that brawling torrent, those craggy fells, and these gray stone walls. And to be free -- free to breathe the freshwind, to go where the fancy prompts, to be loosed from all control savethe sweet bonds that thou boldest me in, dearest! Ah, my wife, thouknowest not what thou hast done for me. How shall I thank thee for theboon?"

"Why, by being thine old self again, Vychan, " said Gertrude, who wasstanding by her husband's side on a natural terrace of rock above theHall which was to be their home. She had brought him out early in themorning to see the sun rise upon their home, and the rapture of hisface, the passionate joy she saw written there, was more than she hadhoped for. 

"Thou hast grown old and worn of late, too saddened, too grave for thyyears. Thou must grow young again, and be the bright-faced youth to whomI gave my heart. Thy youth is not left so far behind but what thou canstrecall it ere it be too late. "

"In sooth I shall grow young again here, sweetheart, " quoth Wendot, orVychan, as we must call him now. He had an equal right to that name withhis father, though for convenience he had always been addressed by theother; and now that Lady Gertrude had brought her husband home, he wasto be known as Res Vychan, one of the descendants of the last princes ofSouth Wales, who had taken his wife's name also, as he was now the rulerof her land; so, according to the fashion of the English people, hewould henceforth be known as Vychan Cherleton. His brother's name hecould not bear to hear applied to himself, and it was left to Joanna toexplain matters to the king and queen when the chance should arrive. None else need ever know that the husband of the Lady Gertrude had everbeen a captive of Edward's; and the name of Griffeth ap Res Vychandisappears from the ken of the chroniclers as if it had never been knownthat he was once a prisoner in England. 

There was no pursuit made after the missing Welshman. The king and queenhad other matters to think of, and the fondness of their son for theyouth would have been protection enough even if he had not begged withhis dying breath that his father would forgive and forget. Lady Gertrudeand her husband did not come to court for very many years; and by thetime they did so, Vychan Cherleton's loyalty and service to the Englishcause were too well established for any one to raise a question as tohis birth or race. 

If the king and queen ever knew they had been outwitted by theirchildren, they did not resent that this had been so, nor that an act ofmercy had been contrived greater than they might have felt justified inratifying. 

But all this was yet in the future. As Vychan and his wife stood on thathigh plateau overlooking the fair valley of the Derwent, it seemed toGertrude as though during the past three days her husband had undergonesome subtle change. There was a new light in his eyes; his frame hadlost its drooping air of languor; he had stood the long days of roughriding without the smallest fatigue. It really seemed as if the oldWendot had come back again, and she smilingly asked him how it was thathe had gained such strength in so short a time. 

"Ah, that question is soon answered, sweet wife. It is freedom that isthe elixir of life to us sons of Cambria. I know not if yourEnglish-born men can brook the sense of fetter and constraint, but it isdeath to us. 

"Let us not think of it more. That page has closed for ever; and nevershall it reopen, for sooner will I die than fall alive into the hands ofa foe. Nay, sweetest Gertrude, look not so reproachfully at me. Thoushalt soon see that I mean not to die, but to live for thee. Here inthis fair, free spot we begin our new life together. It may be even yet-- for see, is not that bright sky, illumined by those quivering shaftsof light athwart our path, an omen of good? -- that as thou showest methis fair spot with which thou hast endowed me, I may one day show theeagain and endow thee with the broad lands of Dynevor. "

 CHAPTER XIII. THE NEW LORD OF DYNEVOR. 

"Vychan, Vychan, the hour has come! That false traitor Sir Res has risenin revolt against England's king. Loyal men are called upon to put downthe rebellion, and such as do so will be rewarded with the lands reftfrom the traitor. Vychan, Vychan, lose not a moment; arm and take themen, and fly to Dynevor! Now is the time to strike the blow! And I willto Edward's court, to plead with him for the lands and castle of Dynevoras my husband's guerdon for his services. O Vychan, Vychan, have not Ialways said that thou shouldest live to call thyself Lord of Dynevor again?"

Gertrude came flying to her husband with these words, looking scarceless young and certainly none less bright and happy than she had donefour years back, when she and her husband had first stood within thewalls of her ancestral home. A beautiful, sturdy boy hung upon her hand, keeping pace gallantly even with her flying steps, and the joy ofmotherhood had given something of added lustre to the soft beauty of herdark eyes; otherwise she was scarce changed from the Gertrude of pastdays. As for Vychan, he still retained the eagle glance, the almostboyish freshness of colouring, and the soldier-like bearing whichdistinguished his race, and the gold of his hair had not tarnished orfaded, though he had developed from the youth to the man, and was anoble specimen of manhood in the zenith of its strength and beauty. 

Rising hastily at his wife's approach, he gazed at her with parted lipsand glowing eyes, whilst she once more told him the news, brought by aspecial messenger from the Princess Joanna, brought thus, as both knew, with a special meaning which they well understood. Four years ofpeaceful prosperity in England had in no whit weakened Vychan's love forhis own land or blunted the soldier-like instincts of his race. Therewas something of the light of battle and of conquest in his eye as hegazed at his wife, and his voice rang out clear and trumpet-like as hegathered the sense of the message she brought. 

"Take up arms against that false traitor-kinsman of mine? ay, verily, that I will. False first to his kindred and his country, then false tothe king who has trusted and rewarded him so nobly. Res ap Meredith, methinks thine hour is come! Thou didst plot and contrive to wrest fromme the fair lands my father bequeathed me; but I trow the day has dawnedwhen the false lord shall be cast forth, even as he has cast forthothers, and when there shall be a lord of the old race ruling atDynevor, albeit he rule beneath a new name. "

"Heaven grant it may be so!" cried Gertrude, the tears of excitementsparkling in her eyes; whilst little Griffeth, catching some of thesense of his father's words, and understanding with the quick instinctof childhood that there was something unwonted going on, shook hislittle fist in the air, and cried:

"Dynevor, Dynevor! me fight for Dynevor, too. "

The father picked up his son and held him in a close embrace. 

"Ay, Griffeth, my man, thou shalt reign at Dynevor one of these days, please God to give us victory over false friends and traitorous allies. "

And even as the parents stood looking smilingly at the brave child, theblast from the warder's trumpet gave notice that strangers wereapproaching the Hall; and hurrying to the entrance gate to be ready toreceive the guests, Vychan and his wife beheld a little troop ofhorsemen winding their way up the valley, headed by a pair who appearedto be man and wife, and to hold some exalted position, for the trappingsof their steeds and the richness of their own dress marked them as of nohumble rank. 

Visitors were sufficiently rare at this lonely place for this sight tocause some stir in the Hall; and Gertrude, shading her eyes with herhand, gazed eagerly at the two figures in advance. Suddenly she gave alittle cry of rapture, and bounded forward through the gateway. 

"It is Arthyn -- Arthyn and Llewelyn! Vychan, thy brother and his wifeare here. Oh, they have come to bid thee to the fray! They bringtidings, and are come to summon thee to the fight. 

"Arthyn, sweetest sister, ten thousand welcomes to our home! Nay, I canscarce believe this is not a dream. How I have longed to see thee here!"

Vychan was at his brother's side, as Arthyn, flinging herself from hersaddle, flew into Gertrude's arms. For some moments nothing could bedistinguished but the glad clamour of welcome, and scarce had thatsubsided before it recommenced in the eager salutations of the Welshretainers, who saw in Vychan another of the sons of their well-lovedLord, Res Vychan, the former Lord of Dynevor and Iscennen, whose wiseand merciful rule had never been forgotten. 

Vychan was touched, indeed, to see how well he was remembered, and thesound of the familiar tongue sent thrills of strange emotion throughhim. It was some time before he could free himself from the throng ofservants who pressed round him; and when he could do so he followed hiswife and guests into the banqueting hall, where the noonday repast wasspread, giving charge to his seneschal for the hospitable entertainmentof the retinue his brother had brought and their lodgment within thewalls of the Hall. 

When he reached the inner hall he found the servants spreading the bestviands of the house upon the table; whilst Gertrude, Arthyn, andLlewelyn were gathered together in the embrasure of a window in eagerdiscussion. Gertrude broke away and came quickly towards him, her facedeeply flushed and her eyes very bright. 

"Vychan, it is even as we have heard. That false traitor is in openrevolt, and he has been even more false than we knew. What think you ofthis? -- he professed to be sorry for his revolt, and sent a letter ofurgent pleading to Llewelyn and Arthyn begging them to use theirinfluence with the king to obtain his pardon. Believing him to besincere, Llewelyn set out for England not more than two short weeksback, taking with him, on account of the unsettled state of the country, the pick of the men from Carregcennen. And when this double-dyed traitorknows that Arthyn is alone and unprotected in the castle, what does hedo but send a strong band of his soldiers, himself at their head, whoobtain entrance by the subterranean passage, slay the guard, and takepossession of the fortress. Arthyn has but bare time to escape with ahandful of men, and by hard riding to join her husband on the road toEngland. 

"So now have they turned aside to tell the tale to us, and to summonthee to come with thy men and fight in the king's quarrel against thiswicked man. And whilst ye lead your soldiers into Wales, Arthyn and Iwill to the court, to lay the story before the royal Edward, and to gainfrom him the full and free grants of the castles of Dynevor andCarregcennen for our husbands, who have responded to his call, and haveflown to wrest from the traitor the possession he has so unrighteouslygrasped. "

"Thy wife speaketh wise words, Vychan, " said Llewelyn, whose dark browswore a threatening look, and who had the appearance of a man deeplystirred to wrath, as indeed he well might be; "and it were well that welost no time in dallying here. How many men canst thou summon to thybanner, and when can we be on the march for the south? The Earl ofCornwall has been called upon to quell this revolt, and he has summonedto his aid all loyal subjects of the king who hold dear the peace andprosperity of their land. 

"The days are gone by in which I should despise that call and join thestandard of revolt. The experience of the past has taught me that in theEnglish alliance is Wales's only hope of tranquillity and trueindependence and civilization. When such men as this Res ap Meredithbreak into revolt against Edward, it is time for us to rally round hisstandard. What would our lives, our lands, our liberties be worth weresuch a double-distilled traitor as he transformed into a prince, as ishis fond ambition?"

"True, Llewelyn, true. The race of kings has vanished from Wales, andmethinks there is no humiliation in owning as sovereign lord thelion-hearted King of England. Moreover, has he not given us a prince ofour own, born upon Welsh soil, sprung of a kingly race? We will rallyround the standard of father and son, and trust that in the future abrighter day will dawn for our long-distracted country. "

So forthwith there sped messengers through the wild valleys and wilderfells of Derbyshire, and many a sturdy son of the mountains came gladlyand willingly at the call of the feudal lord whose wise and kindly rulehad made him greatly beloved. The fighting instinct of the age and ofthe race was speedily aroused by this call to arms, and the surroundinggentlemen and yeomen of the county likewise pressed their services uponVychan, glad to be able to strike a blow to uphold the authority of aking whose wise and brave rule had already made him the idol of the nation. 

It was a goodly sight to see the brothers of Dynevor (as their wivescould not but call them once again) ride forth at the head of thiswell-equipped following. Llewelyn marvelled at the discipline displayedby the recruits -- a discipline decidedly in advance of anything his ownruder followers could boast. But Welsh and English for once were inbrotherly accord, and rode shoulder to shoulder in all good fellowship;and the English knew that their ruder comrades from Cambria, if lesswell trained and drilled, would be able to show them a lesson in fierceand desperate fighting, to which they were far more inured than theirmore peaceable neighbours from the sister country. 

And fighting there was for all; but the struggle, if fierce, was brief. Sir Res was a coward at heart, as it is the wont of a traitor to be, andfinding himself opposed by foes as relentless and energetic as Vychanand Llewelyn, he was speedily driven from fortress to fortress, till atlength he was forced to surrender himself a prisoner to the Earl ofGloucester; who, out of kindness to his wife, Auda de Hastings, connivedat his escape to Ireland. 

There he lived in seclusion for some time; but the spirit of rebellionwas still alive within him, and two years later he returned to Wales, and succeeded in collecting an army of four thousand turbulent spiritsabout him, at the head of which force he fought a pitched battle withthe king's justiciary, Robert de Tibetot. His army was cut to pieces. Hewas taken prisoner himself, and met a cruel death at York as the rewardof his many acts of treasonable rebellion. 

But the halls of Dynevor saw him no more from the moment when ResVychan, with a swelling heart, first drove him forth, and planted hisown foot once again upon the soil dearer to him than any other spot onearth. As he stood upon the familiar terrace, looking over the wide, fair valley of the Towy, his heart swelled with thankfulness and joy;and if a slow, unwonted tear found its way to his eye, it was scarce atear of sorrow, for he felt assured that his brother Griffeth wassharing in the joy of this restoration to the old home, and that hisloving and gentle spirit was not very far from him at this supreme hourof his life. 

"Father, father, father!"

Vychan turned with a start at the sound of the joyous call, and the nextmoment was clasping wife and son to his breast. 

"Sweetheart! come so quickly? How couldst thou?"

"Ay, Vychan, love hath ever wings, and neither I nor Arthyn could keepaway, our business at the court once accomplished. Vychan, husband, thoustandest here Lord of Dynevor in thine own right. Thou hast won backthine ancestral home, the boy's inheritance. 

"Seest thou this deed? Knowest thou the king's seal? Take it, for itsecureth all to thee under thy name of Vychan Cherleton. And if in timesto come those who come after know not that it was the son of Res Vychanwho thus reclaimed his patrimony, and if our worthy chroniclers set downthat Dynevor and its lands passed to the keeping of the English, whatmatters it? We know the truth, and those who have loved thee and thyfather know who thou art and whence thou hast come. Let that besufficient for thee and for me. 

"Griffeth, little son, kiss thy father, and bid him welcome to his ownhalls again -- the halls of Dynevor. "

Vychan could not speak. He pressed one passionate kiss upon the lips ofhis wife, and another upon the brow of his noble boy, who looked everyinch a Dynevor, with the true Dynevor features, and the bold, fearlessmien so like his father's. 

Then commanding himself by an effort, he opened the king's parchment andquickly mastered its contents, after which he took his wife's hand andheld out the other to his son. 

"My faithful fellows are mustering in the hall to bid me welcome oncemore to Dynevor. Come, sweet wife; I must show to them their lady andtheir future lord. 

"Arthyn -- where is she? Has she gone on to Iscennen to meet Llewelynthere?"

"Ay, verily: she was as hungry for him as I for thee; and she hath asimilar mandate for him regarding his rights to Carregcennen. 

"O Vychan, dearest husband, I can scarce believe it is not all a dream. "

Indeed, to Vychan it seemed almost as though he dreamed, as in the oldfamiliar hall he stood, a little raised from the crowd of armedretainers upon the steps of the wide oak staircase, as he addressed tothem a speech eloquent with that thrilling eloquence which is the giftof all who speak from the heart, and speak to hearts beating in deep andtrue response. Vychan thanked all those who had so bravely fought forhim, explained to all assembled there his new position and his new name, bid them not think him less a Welshman and a Dynevor because he bore hiswife's arms and called himself the servant of the English king, and heldup before their eyes the mandate of that English king confirming to himthe lands and halls of Dynevor. 

A wild, ringing cheer broke from all who heard him as he thus proved totheir own satisfaction that the royal Edward was their best friend, andas the new Lord of Dynevor held up his child for them to see, and to ownas future lord in the time-honoured fashion, such a shout went up fromthe throats of all as made the vaulted roof ring again. Blades wereunsheathed and waved in wild enthusiasm, and Gertrude's dark eyesglistened through a mist of proud and happy tears. 

Suddenly from some dim recess in the old ball there issued a strain ofwild music -- the sound of a harp played by no unskilled hand; whilstmingling with the twang of the strings was the voice of the ancientbard, cracked through age, yet still retaining the old power and some ofthe old sweetness. And harp and voice were raised alike in one of thosetriumph songs that have ever been as the elixir of life to the strong, rude, sensitive sons of wild Cambria. 

"It is Wenwynwyn, " quoth Vychan. "He is yet alive. I little thought tosee him more. 

"Griffeth, boy, run to yon old man and bid him give thee his blessing, and tell him that there is a son of Dynevor come back to rule as Lord ofDynevor once again. "

POSTSCRIPT. 

The story of the sons of Res Vychan is very intricate and difficult tofollow, owing to the lack of contemporaneous documents; but the mainfacts of their story as related in the foregoing pages are true, thougha certain license has been taken for purposes of fiction. 

They have been represented as somewhat younger than they were at thetime of these events, whilst the children of Edward the First have beenmade some few years older than their true ages. 

There is no actual historical warrant for the change of identity betweenWendot and Griffeth, and for the escape and reinstatement of the formerin the halls of Dynevor; but there are traditions which point to apossibility that he did escape from prison, in spite of the affirmationof the chroniclers, as there have been those who claim descent from him, which they would hardly have done if such had not been the case, forthere is no record that he was married before he was taken prisoner toEngland. 

The children of the English king were not really at Rhuddlan Castle in1277, as represented here, as they were at that time too young toaccompany their father on his expeditions. If, however, they had been asold as represented in these pages, there is little doubt they would haveaccompanied him, as the monarch was a most affectionate father, andloved to have wife and children about him. 

Arthyn is a fictitious character; as is also Gertrude. There is norecord that any of the sons of Res Vychan married or left descendants, except the tradition alluded to above. 

THE END.