nst the English king also consumed them. Had they
not, at the cost of most bitter humiliation, gone to him as vassals,
trusting to his promise that all who did homage for their lands should
be confirmed in peaceful possession of the same? And how had he treated
this act of painful submission? Was it greatly to be wondered at that
their hearts burned with an unquenchable hatred? To them Edward stood as
the type of all that was cruel and treacherous and grasping. They
brooded over their wrongs by day and by night; they carried their dark
looks with them when they stirred abroad or when they rested at home.
Wenwynwyn sympathized as none besides seemed to do, and he became their
great solace and chief counsellor.

Wendot might uneasily wonder what passed in that quiet room of the old
man's, but he never knew or guessed. He would better have liked to hear
Llewelyn burst forth into the old passionate invective. He was uneasy at
this chronic state of gloom and sullen silence on the vexed question of
English supremacy. But seldom a word passed the lips of either twin.
They kept their secret -- if secret they had -- locked away in their own
breasts. And days and weeks and months passed by, and Wendot and
Griffeth seemed almost as much alone at Dynevor as they had been after
their father's death, when Llewelyn and Howel had betaken themselves to
their castle of Carregcennen.

But at least, if silent and sullen, they did not appear to entertain any
plan likely to raise anxiety in Wendot's mind as to the pledge he had
given to the king. They kept at home, and never spoke of Iscennen, and
as the winter passed away and the spring began to awaken the world from
her long white sleep, they betook themselves with zest to their pastime
of hunting, and went long expeditions that sometimes lasted many days,
returning laden with spoil, and apparently in better spirits from the
bracing nature of their pursuits.

Griffeth, who had felt the cold somewhat keenly, and had been drooping
and languid all the winter, picked up strength and spirit as the days
grew longer and warmer, and began to enjoy open-air life once more.

Wendot was much wrapped up in this young brother of his, who had always
been dearer to him than any being in the world besides.

Since he had been at death's door with the fever, Griffeth had never
recovered the robustness of health which had hitherto been the
characteristic of the Dynevor brothers all their lives. He was ac