ble to bear
the journey, and illness had so wasted him that he looked no older than
Griffeth; and though still perplexed at being called Griffeth, and by no
means understanding his brother's earnest request that he would continue
to answer to the name, he was too weak to trouble his head much about
the matter; and the two Welsh brothers were regarded by the English
attendants as too insignificant to be worthy of much notice. The
prince's freak to have them as travelling-companions was humoured by his
parents' wish; but they little knew how much he was wrapped up in the
brothers, nor how completely his heart was set upon seeing the
accomplishment of his plan before he died.

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

"Art regretting that thou leavest all for me?" he asked gently; and the
answer 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 is
my 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 of
earth, 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 above
the very stars! And methinks it may well be given to thee to wing thy
way to thine own home for one last look ere thou departest for the holy
land 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 last
farewell."

CHAPTER XII. A STRANGE BRIDAL.

"My prince, tempt me not. It is hard to refuse; but there are some
things no man may do with honour, and, believe me, honour is dearer to
me than life, dearer even than liberty; though Heaven alone knows how
dear that is to every free-born son of Cambria. I to leave my brother to
wear away his days in captivity whilst I escape under his name! Prince
Alphonso, I know not what you think my heart is made of. Am I to live in