laugh. These three kingdoms, where the
fruits of gold, the brilliant flowers and the children who laugh are
found, my little Ewrag, are the worlds in which those, who in this world
have performed pure and celestial acts, will be successively born again
and will continue to live with ever increasing happiness. Now, what must
we be in order to perform such acts?"

"We must be wise, good and just," the child would reply. "Furthermore
death must not be feared, because we are born again and again, from
world to world with an ever renewed body. We must love Brittany like a
tender mother--and bravely defend her against her enemies."

"Yes, my child," broke in Noblede, drawing her brother's child to
herself. "Always remember those sacred words: 'To love and defend
Brittany';" and Morvan's wife tenderly embraced Ewrag.

"Mother! mother!" cried up little Rosneven, joyfully clapping his hands
and rushing out of the porch followed by his brother Ewrag: "Here is
father!"

Caswallan, Noblede and Josseline rose at the gladsome cries of the child
and walked out towards two large wagons heavily laden with golden
sheaves, and drawn by a yoke of oxen.

Morvan and Vortigern were seated in front of one of the wagons
surrounded by a considerable number of men and lads belonging to the
household, or to the tribe of the Chief of the Chiefs, carrying in their
hands the sickles, the forks and the rakes used by the harvesters. At a
little distance behind them came the shepherds with their flocks whose
bells were heard clinking from the distance. Morvan, in the vigor of
life, robust and thick-set, like most of the inhabitants of the Black
Mountains, wore their rustic garb--wide breeches of coarse white
material, and a linen shirt that exposed his sunburnt chest and neck.
His long hair, auburn like his thick beard, framed his manly face. His
forehead was high; his eyes intrepid and piercing. As to Vortigern, the
maturer gravity of manhood, of husband and father, had succeeded the
flower of youth. His looks were expressive of sweet delight at the sight
of the two boys who had ran out to meet him. He jumped down from the
wagon and embraced them affectionately while he looked for his wife and
sister, who, accompanied by Caswallan, were not long in joining him.

"Dear wife, the harvest will be plentiful," said Morvan to Noblede, and
pointing to the overloaded wagons, he added: "Have you ever seen more
beautiful wheat, or more golden sheaves? Look