t territory in the country, and was leaving no
stone unturned in order to achieve that object. A marriage with Arthyn
would give him the hold he wanted upon a very large estate. But
indifferent as he was to the feelings of the lady, he was wise enough to
see that whilst she remained in her present mood, and was the confidante
and friend of the princesses, he should not gain the king's consent to
prosecuting his nuptials by force, as he would gladly have done.
Whereupon a new scheme had entered his busy brain, as a second string to
his bow, and with the help of a kinsman high in favour with the king, he
had great hopes of gaining his point, which would at once gratify his
ambition and inflict vengeance upon a hated rival.

Raoul had hated the Dynevor brothers ever since he had detected in
Arthyn an interest in and sympathy for them, ever since he had found her
in close talk in their own tongue with the dark-browed twins, whose
antagonism to the English was scarcely disguised. He had done all he
knew to stir the hot blood in Llewelyn and Howel, and that with some
success. The lads were looked upon as dangerous and treacherous by many
of those in the castle; and from the sneering look of coming triumph
upon the face of young Latimer as the party moved off towards the
private apartments of the royal family, it was plain that he anticipated
a victory for himself and a profound humiliation for his foes.

Supper was the first business of the hour, and the Dynevor brothers sat
at the lower table with the attendants of the king. The meal was
well-served and plentiful, but they bad small appetite for it. Wendot
felt as though a shadow hung upon them; and the chief comfort he
received was in stealing glances at the sweet, sensitive face of
Gertrude, who generally responded to his glance by one of her flashing
smiles.

Wendot wondered how it was that Lord Montacute had never sought him out
to speak to him. Little as the lad had thought of their parting
interview at Dynevor during the past two years, it all came back with
the greatest vividness as he looked upon the fine calm face of the
English noble. Was it possible he had forgotten the half-pledge once
given him? Or did he regret it, now that his daughter was shooting up
from a child into a sweet and gracious maiden whom he felt disposed to
worship with reverential awe? Wendot did not think he was in love -- he
would scarce have known the meaning of the phrase and he as little