ret from the first. It had been charming enough in the past despite
the fear that ever made her say him nay. Then yesterday he had won her
from her tears and fears, won her by his brave and tender front, and she
had placed her little hands on his breast and sworn to follow him
despite all else when once her father had passed away. And now, twelve
short hours after her fingers had touched him, her fear had caught her
by the throat, for they would kill him surely, her prince, the only joy
she had ever known.

So went the night, with desperate distracted plans, and the dumb agony
of cold despair. And in the very early dawn, when men and things cling
close to sleep, she heard a gentle stirring--a muffled footfall on the
stairs, and Black Tad stood at her side, a great shadow, questioning
her.

"Mistress, what heard you?"

And she answered quick with loathing: "All! all the vile, shameful
thing!"

"They are our foes" he muttered moodily.

"Foes! Foes! Nay, none of you are worthy any foe--save the hangman! Ah,
God will curse you! Cruel! Cruel!"

She leaned out of her seat toward him, her panting breath and fierce
words lashing him so that he stepped back a pace, dazed--she was ever
such a gentle child.

"What would you, Gwen?"

"What would I! My God!--a fair fight at least. Oh, Tad, and I thought
you were a brave man."

"I--I--damme, I, what can I do?--and what does it matter?"

"Matter?--a foul blot!--matter to you and Ced and father--nothing!
Murderers! I hate you all! What has the Cadwallader done? All Wales
knows 'twas ever father set on him, not he on father--Always!--always, I
say! Aye, I remember that bloody night at Ebbu Vale. Shame! Shame! And
the harrying and burning at Rhyll, when the mother and her babes
perished. No, you weren't there, Tad, but you know and I know who was.
Ah, Tad, she's crying to God--that mother, and holding the little dead
things in her hands, close up to his face. And now you'd murder Llyn,
for all he's ever been for peace."

"Hush-s-sh! not so loud, Gwen."

"Not so loud! not so loud!" she jibed bitterly. "If you fear my poor
voice now, what will it be when all Wales is ringing with this last foul
deed?"

Tad breathed hard, then caught her wrists suddenly, crushing them in his
fierceness: "Listen, Gwenith. After all I'm no Tavis--I'm Gruffydd, and
I love you."

She shrank away with wide, fearful eyes, her breath coming in little
painful gasps.

"What--what do you mean, T