t mission to Carnarvon.

"Sweet lady, O most gracious madam, listen and plead for me with the
king. He is kind and good, and he knows what true love is. Lady, it is
as a wedded wife I come to you, craving pardon for what I have done. But
I ever hated that wicked Raoul Latimer, my country's foe, and would have
died rather than plight my troth to him. And when he came to us -- he,
my love, my life, he whom I loved long years ago when we met as boy and
girl, and whom I have never forgotten -- what could I do? How could I
resist?

"And my father approved. He gave my hand in wedlock. And now I am come
to pray your pardon for myself and for him whom I love. Oh, do not turn
a deaf ear to me! As you have loved when you were young, pardon those
who have done likewise."

King and queen exchanged glances, half of amusement, half of
astonishment, but there was no anger in either face. Raoul was no
favourite in the royal circle, and his visible cowardice in the recent
campaign had brought him into open disfavour with the lion-hearted
Edward. He loved Arthyn dearly, and this proof of her independence of
spirit, together with her artless confidence in his kindliness of heart,
pleased him not a little. He had been forced during these past days to
act a stern part towards many of the Welsh nobles who had been brought
before him. He was glad enough, this thankless task accomplished, to
allow the softer and more kindly side of his nature to assert itself.
And perhaps the sympathetic glances of his son Alphonso, who had just
entered the room, helped to settle his resolve that Arthyn at least
should receive full and free forgiveness.

Eleanor had drawn her former playmate towards her, and was eagerly
questioning her as to the name of him to whom her heart and hand were
now given, and the answer sent a thrill of surprise through the whole
company.

"It is one whom you all know, sweet Eleanor -- Llewelyn, the son of Res
Vychan, Lord of Dynevor. Thou knowest, Eleanor, how he came amongst us
at Rhuddlan years agone now, and perchance thou sawest even then how we
loved one another, albeit it was but the love of children. But we never
have forgotten, and when he came to my father's castle, wounded and
weary and despairing after the disaster which robbed Wales of her last
native prince, what could we do but receive and tend him? It was thus it
came about, and love did the rest."

"And so thou hast wed a rebel, maiden?" quoth Edward, in tone