intellect stamped upon the face of the young Lord of Dynevor, and it was
very plain to all who observed his relations with those about him that
he was master of his own possession, and that though he was greatly
beloved by all who came in contact with him, he was respected and
obeyed, and in some things feared.

By his side stood Griffeth, almost as much his shadow as of yore. To a
casual observer the likeness between the brothers was very remarkable,
but a closer survey showed many points of dissimilarity. Griffeth's
figure was slight to spareness, and save in moments of excitement there
was something of languor in his movements. The colour in his cheeks was
not the healthy brown of exposure to sun and wind, but the fleeting
hectic flush of long-standing insidious disease, and his eyes had a
far-away look -- dreamy and absorbed; whilst those of his brother
expressed rather watchful observation of what went on around him, and
resolution to mould those about him to his will.

Facing this fair-haired pair were the twin Lords of Iscennen,
considerably changed from the sullen-looking lads of old days, but still
with many of their characteristics unchanged. They were taller and more
stoutly built than Wendot and Griffeth, and their dark skins and
coal-black hair gave something of ferocity and wildness to their
appearance, which look was borne out by the style of dress adopted,
whilst the young Lords of Dynevor affected something of the refinement
and richness of apparel introduced by the English.

For the past years a friendly intercourse had been kept up between
Dynevor and Carregcennen. The country had been at peace -- such peace as
internal dissensions would allow it -- and no one had disturbed the sons
of Res Vychan in the possession of their ancestral rights. The tie
between the brothers had therefore been more closely drawn, and Wendot's
responsibility for the submissive behaviour of the turbulent twins had
made him keep a constant eye upon them, and had withheld them on their
side from attempting to foment the small and fruitless struggles against
English authority which were from time to time arising between the
border-land chief and the Lords of the Marches.

But now something very different was in the wind. After almost five
years of peace with England, revolt had broken out in North Wales.
David, the brother of Llewelyn, had commenced it, and the prince had
followed the example thus set him. He had broken out