round her
friend's neck.

"I cannot--cannot believe it is you," she exclaimed aloud--and then,
whispering in Branwen's ear, "oh! you wicked creature, to make such a
hypocrite of me. But come," she added aloud, "come to my room. I must
have you all to myself alone."

For one moment, as they passed, Branwen raised her eyes, and, as they
met those of the prince, a deep blush overspread her face. Another
moment and the two friends had left the hall together.

We need not weary the reader by describing the games and festivities
that followed. Such matters have probably been much the same, in all
important respects, since the beginning of time. There was a vast
amount of enthusiasm, and willingness to be contented with little, on
the part of the people, and an incredible desire to talk and delay
matters, and waste time, on the part of judges, umpires, and starters,
but there was nothing particularly noteworthy, except that Bladud
consented to run one race with his friend Dromas, and was signally
beaten by him, to the secret satisfaction of Hafrydda, and the open
amusement of the king.

But Branwen did not appear at the games, nor did she appear again during
the remainder of that day, and poor Bladud was obliged to restrain his
anxiety, for he felt constrained to remain beside his father, and,
somehow, he failed in his various attempts to have a few words of
conversation with his mother.

At last, like all sublunary things, the games came to an end, and the
prince hastened to his sister's room.

"May I come in?" he asked, knocking.

"Yes, brother."

There was a peculiar tone in her voice, and a curious expression in her
eyes, that the prince did not fail to note.

"Hafrydda," he exclaimed, eagerly, "there is _no_ Cormac?"

"True, brother, there is no Cormac--there never was. Branwen and Cormac
are one!"

"And you knew it--and _she_ knew it, all along. Oh, why did you agree
to deceive me?"

"Nay, brother, I did not mean to deceive you--at least not at first.
Neither did Branwen. I knew nothing about it till she came home, after
being with you at the Swamp, and told me that she was impelled by sheer
pity to follow you, intending to nurse you; thinking at first that we
had let you go to die alone. Then she was caught in the woods by
robbers, and she only escaped from them by putting on a boy's dress and
running away. They gave chase, however, caught her up, and, had it not
been for you, would have reca