although he treated her shamefully, abused her, and sometimes
even threatened to beat her. To do him justice, he never carried the
threat into execution. And, strange to say, this unamiable blackguard
also loved his mother--not very demonstratively, it is true, except in
the abusive manner above mentioned.

This rugged creature had a strong objection to the wild, lawless life
her son was leading, for instead of sticking to the tribe to which he
belonged, and pillaging, fighting with, and generally maltreating every
other tribe that was not at peace with his, this mistaken young man had
associated himself with a band of like-minded desperadoes--who made him
their chief--and took to pillaging the members of every tribe that
misfortune cast in his way. Now, it occurred to Ortrud that the best
way to wean her son from his evil ways would be to get him married to
some gentle, pretty, affectionate girl, whose influence would be exerted
in favour of universal peace instead of war, and the moment she set eyes
on Branwen, she became convinced that her ambition was on the point of
attainment. Hence her unexpected and sudden display of interest in the
fair captive, whom she meant to guard till the return of her son from a
special marauding expedition, in which he was engaged at the time with a
few picked men.

Whatever opinion the reader may have by this time formed of Branwen, we
wish it to be understood that she had "a way with her" of insinuating
herself into the good graces of all sorts and conditions of men--
including women and children. She was particularly successful with
people of disagreeable and hardened character. It is not possible to
explain why, but, such being the case, it is not surprising that she
soon wormed herself into the confidence of the old woman, to such an
extent, that the latter was ere long tempted to make her more or less of
a confidant.

One day, about a week after the arrival of our heroine in the camp, old
Ortrud asked her how she would like to live always in the green woods.
The look of uncertainty with which she put the question convinced the
captive that it was a leading one.

"I should like it well," she replied, "if I had pleasant company to live
with."

"Of course, of course, my dear, you would need that--and what company
could be more pleasant than that of a good stout man who could keep you
in meat and skins and firewood?"

Any one with a quarter of Branwen's intelligence would