Part 36 (2/2)

I knew then that Owen had had a narrow escape, and but for the fleetness of foot of Evan he would surely have been slain. I told Howel of what had pa.s.sed while he was absent, and so we came to the hilltop, and I saw a little below me the white robes of the captive, and Evan sitting by him, resting on his spear. He rose up as we came to him.

”Has he spoken, Evan?” I said.

”Ay, Master,” he answered, with a grin that minded me of other days with him. ”He says he will take us to the place where Owen lies, if we will promise to spare his life.”

”We will promise that,” I answered. ”We will let him go his own way after we have seen all that we need.”

”Let me rise, then,” the man said quietly. ”I will shew you all.”

”Do not untie his hands, Evan, but let him walk,” I said. ”He is not to be trusted, if he is like his master.”

It was the elder of the two whom we had before us, and he seemed downcast and harmless enough as we let him rise, though he was unhurt. He had run on while the younger turned to stay the pursuers, but Evan had caught him. He led us along the path, which I suppose his own feet and those of Morfed had worn, unless it was old as the menhir itself, and on the way he said suddenly:

”Let me ask one thing of you. Has the menhir fallen?”

”Ay, with the cross graven on it,” I answered; and my words checked a laugh that was on Evan's lips.

”I knew it. I heard the crash,” the man said. ”That is an end therefore.”

But Howel told the whole story as he had seen it take place, from the time when Morfed flew at me, to the time when the waters were still again; and as he heard, the man clenched his hands and bowed his head and went on quickly, as if that would prevent his hearing.

After that he said nothing.

Then the path took us round the shoulder of a hill, and before us was a rocky platform on the sunward slope which went steeply down to another brook far below us. Far and wide from that platform one could see over the heads of three streams, and across three hill peaks that were right before us, and at the back of the level place was a great cromlech made of one vast flat stone reared on three others that were set in a triangle to uphold it. Seven good feet from the ground its top was, and each of the three supporting stones was some twelve feet long, so that it was like a house for s.p.a.ce within, and the two foremost stones were apart as a doorway.

And again beyond the cromlech was a hut, shaped like a beehive of straw, built of many stones most wonderfully, both walls and roof.

There were things about this hut that seemed to tell that it was in use, and even as our footsteps rang on the rocky platform, out of its low doorway crept an ancient woman and stared at us wildly.

”What is this?” she screamed. ”How should these unhallowed ones come hither?”

”Silence, mother,” our captive said. ”All is done, and these men come to take away the prince.”

Then she saw that he was bound with Evan's belt, and at that she screamed again, and a wild look came into her face, and with a bound that was wonderful in one so old and bent she fled to the cromlech, and climbed up the rearward stone in some way, perching herself on the flat top, whence she glared at us.

”We will not harm you, mother,” I said, seeing her terror.

And even as I spoke, from within the stone walls of the cromlech came the voice that I longed to hear again, weak, indeed, but yet that of Owen:

”Oswald, Oswald!”

Then I paid no more heed to the hag, but ran into the dark place, and there indeed was my foster father, swathed in bandages, and lying white and helpless on a rough couch, but yet with a bright smile and greeting for me, and I went on my knees at his side and answered him.

I will not say more of that meeting. Outside the old woman cursed and reviled Howel and Evan and the captive in turns unceasingly; but I heeded her no more than one heeds a starling chattering on the roof in the early morning. I had all that I sought, and aught else was as nothing to me.

After a little while Howel's face came into the doorway, and Owen called him in. I saw the look of the prince change as he marked the many swathings that told of Owen's sore hurts.

”Nay, but trouble not,” Owen said, seeing this. ”I am cut about a bit, for certain, but not so badly that I may not be about again soon. The old lady overhead has a shrewd tongue, but she is a marvellous good leech. I have not fared so badly here, and I knew Oswald would not rest until he found me.”

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