d reedy
singing-voice, and she is perfectly right. She has never even
entertained the notion of loving me. That is well, for to-morrow, or,
it may be, the day after, we must part forever. I would not have the
parting make her sorrowful--or not, at least, too unalterably
sorrowful. It is very well that Branwen does not love me.

"Why should she? I am almost twice her age, an aging fellow now,
battered and selfish and too indolent to love her--say, as Gwyllem
loved her. I did well to kill that Gwyllem. I am profoundly glad I
killed him, and I thoroughly enjoyed doing it; but, after all, the man
loved her in his fashion, and to the uttermost reach of his gross
nature. I love her in a rather more decorous and acceptable fashion,
it is true, but only a half of me loves her. The other half of me
remembers that I am aging, that Caradawc's hut is leaky, that, in
fine, bodily comfort is the single luxury of which one never tires. I
am a very contemptible creature, the empty scabbard of a man,
precisely as Owain said." This settled, Richard whistled to his dog.

The sun had set. There were no shadows anywhere as Richard and his
sheep went homeward, but on every side the colors of the world were
more sombre. Twice his flock roused a covey of partridges which had
settled for the night. The screech-owl had come out of his hole, and
bats were already blundering about, and the air was cooling. There was
as yet but one star in the green and cloudless heaven, and this was
very large, like a beacon: it appeared to him symbolical that he
trudged away from this star.

Next morning the Welshmen came, and now the trap was ready for Henry
of Lancaster.

It befell just two days later, about noon, that while Richard idly
talked with Branwen a party of soldiers, some fifteen in number, rode
down the river's bank from the ford above. Their leader paused, then
gave an order. The men drew rein. He cantered forward.

"God give you joy, fair sir," said Richard, when the cavalier was near
him.

The new-comer raised his visor. "God give you eternal joy, my fair
cousin," he said, "and very soon. Now send away this woman before that
happens which must happen."

"Do you plan," said Richard, "to disfigure the stage of our quiet
pastorals with murder?"

"I design my own preservation," King Henry answered, "for while you
live my rule is insecure."

"I am sorry," Richard said, "that in part my blood is yours."

Twice he sounded his horn, and eve