"It was the report of a sanguine mother who will not believe that his
end is so near; but she is mistaken. I saw him two days ago. The
arrow-head is still rankling in his chest, and he knows himself to be
dying."

"Is he much changed in appearance?" asked Branwen.

"Indeed he is. His great strength is gone, and he submits to be treated
as a child--yet he is by no means childish. The manliness of his strong
nature is left, but the boastfulness has departed, and he looks death in
the face like a true warrior; though I cannot help thinking that if
choice had been given him he would have preferred to fall by the sword
of Bladud, or some doughty foe who could have given him a more summary
dismissal from this earthly scene."

"Beniah, I will visit him," said Branwen, suddenly brushing back her
hair with both hands, and looking earnestly into the Hebrew's face.

"That will be hard for you to do and still keep yourself concealed."

"Nothing will be easier," replied the girl, with some impatience; "you
forget the old woman's dress. I will accompany you as far as his
dwelling. It is only an easy day's journey on foot from here."

"But, my child, I go on horseback; and I am to be supplied with only one
horse."

"Well, my father, that is no difficulty; for I will ride and you shall
walk. You will bring the horse here instead of starting straight from
the palace. Then we will set off together, and I will gallop on in
advance. When you reach Gunrig's house in the evening, you will find
the horse fed and rested, and ready for you to go on."

"But how will you return, child?"

"By using my legs, man! As an old witch I can travel anywhere at night
in perfect safety."

According to this arrangement--to which the Hebrew was fain to agree--
the pair started off a little after daybreak the following morning.
Branwen galloped, as she had said, in advance, leaving her protector to
make his slower way through the forest.

The sun was high when the domestics of Gunrig's establishment were
thrown into a state of great surprise and no little alarm at sight of a
little old woman in grey bestriding a goodly horse and galloping towards
the house. Dashing into the courtyard at full speed, and scattering the
onlookers right and left, she pulled up with some difficulty, just in
time to prevent the steed going through the parchment window of the
kitchen.

"Help me down!" she cried, looking full in the face of a lumpish lad,