ho came bounding in, his face flushed and his eyes
shining as he caressed the hooded bird upon his wrist.

"He is a beauty, Wendot. I would thou hadst been there to see. I took
him 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 have
wearied 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 was
ready; for when I sought them to ask if they would come, they were
nowhere to be found. As for the maid, I never thought of her. Where can
they have taken her so early?"

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

"If she is with Llewelyn and Howel she will be safe. They have taken her
on some expedition in secret, but none will harm her with two such stout
protectors 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 of
the great hall with a strange shadow upon his face. Griffeth, who was
eagerly 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 him
to assure himself that there was no one by to hear, he approached
Griffeth with hasty steps and sat down beside him, speaking in a low,
rapid way and in English, "Griffeth, tell me, didst thou hear aught last
night ere thou fell asleep?"

"Ay, I heard Wenwynwyn singing to his harp in his own chamber, but
nought 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 to
forbear, yet so wild and strange was the song he sang that at the door I
paused 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 dove
was borne from safe shelter -- a young dove in the absence of the father
bird; not the mother bird, but the father -- and