e it is. Now, my end is not far off. I am so glad and thankful that
you have forgiven me before the end. Another thing that comforts me is
that Bladud and I have been reconciled."

"Bladud!" exclaimed the girl.

"Ay, the prince with whom I fought at the games, you remember."

"Remember! ay, right well do I remember. It was a notable fight."

"It was," returned the chief, with a faint smile, "and from that day I
hated him and resolved to kill him, till I met him at the Hot Swamp,
where I got this fatal wound. He nursed me there, and did his best to
save my life, but it was not to be. Yet I think that his tenderness, as
well as your sweet voice, had something to do with turning my angry
spirit round. I would see my mother now. The world is darkening, and
the time is getting short."

The deathly pallor of the man's cheeks bore witness to the truth of his
words. Yet he had strength to call his mother into the room.

On entering and beholding a beautiful girl kneeling, and in tears, where
she had left a feeble old woman, she almost fell down with superstitious
fear, deeming that an angel had been sent to comfort her son--and so
indeed one had been sent, in a sense, though not such an one as
superstition suggested.

A few minutes' talk with Gunrig, however, cleared up the mystery. But
the unwonted excitement and exertion had caused the sands of life to run
more rapidly than might otherwise have been the case. The chief's voice
became suddenly much more feeble, and frequently he gasped for breath.

"Mother," he said, "Branwen wants to get home without any one knowing
that she has been here. You will send our stoutest man with her
to-night, to guard her through the woods as far as the Hebrew's cave.
Let him not talk to her by the way, and bid him do whatever she
commands."

"Yes, my dear, dear son, what else can I do to comfort you?"

"Come and sit beside me, mother, and let me lay my head on your knee.
You were the first to comfort me in this life, and I want you to be the
last. Speak with Branwen, mother, after I am gone. She will comfort
you as no one else can. Give me your hand, mother; I would sleep now as
in the days gone by."

The bronzed warrior laid his shaggy head on the lap where he had been so
often fondled when he was a little child, and gently fell into that
slumber from which he never more awoke.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE HEBREW'S MISSION.

We turn now to Beniah the Hebrew. On a