, with a smile; "methinks that will
please the mother well."

"Come and see," cried Griffeth eagerly. "Let us hasten down to the
castle together."

It was easy work for the brothers to traverse the rocky pathway.
Dangerous as the descent looked to others, they were as surefooted as
young chamois, and sprang from rock to rock with the utmost confidence.
The long summer sunlight came streaming up the valley in level rays of
shimmering gold, bathing the loftier crags in lambent fire, and filling
the lower lands with layers of soft shadow flecked here and there with
gold. A sudden turn in the narrow gorge, through which ran a brawling
tributary of the wider Towy, brought the brothers full in sight of their
ancestral home, and for a few seconds they paused breathless, gazing
with an unspeakable and ardent love upon the fair scene before them.

The castle of Dynevor (or Dinas Vawr = Great Palace) stood in a
commanding position upon a rocky plateau overlooking the river Towy.
From its size and splendour -- as splendour went in those days -- it had
long been a favourite residence with the princes of South Wales; and in
a recent readjustment of disputed lands, consequent upon the perpetual
petty strife that was ruining the land, Res Vychan, the present Lord of
Dynevor, had made some considerable sacrifice in order to keep in his
own hands the fair palace of his fathers.

The majestic pile stood out boldly from the mountain side, and was
approached by a winding road from the valley. A mere glance showed how
strong was the position it occupied, and how difficult such a place
would be to capture. On two sides the rock fell away almost sheer from
the castle walls, whilst on the other two a deep moat had been dug,
which was fed by small mountain rivulets that never ran dry; and the
entrance was commanded by a drawbridge, whose frowning portcullis was
kept by a grim warder looking fully equal to the office allotted to him.

Lovely views were commanded from the narrow windows of the castle, and
from the battlements and the terraced walk that ran along two sides of
the building. And rough and rude as were the manners and customs of the
period, and partially uncivilized as the country was in those far-off
days, there was a strong vein of poetry lying latent in its sons and
daughters, and an ardent love for the beautiful in nature and for the
country they called their own, which went far to redeem their natures
from mere savagery and