rs; and
to detail his Asian wanderings were both tedious and unprofitable. But
at the end of each four months would come to him a certain messenger
from Glyndwyr, whom Richard supposed to be the devil Bembo, who
notoriously ran every day around the world upon the Welshman's
business. It was in the Isle of Taprobane, where the pismires are as
great as hounds, and mine and store the gold the inhabitants afterward
rob them of through a very cunning device, that this emissary brought
the letter which read simply, "Now is England fit pasture for the White
Hart." Presently was Richard Holland in Wales, and then he rode to
Sycharth.

There, after salutation, Glyndwyr gave an account of his long
stewardship. It was a puzzling record of obscure and tireless
machinations with which we have no immediate concern: in brief, the
very barons who had ousted King Log had been the first to find King
Stork intolerable; and Northumberland, Worcester, Douglas, Mortimer,
and so on, were already pledged and in open revolt. "By the God I do
not altogether serve," Owain ended, "you have but to declare yourself,
sire, and within the moment England is yours."

More lately Richard spoke with narrowed eyes. "You forget that while
Henry of Lancaster lives no other man will ever reign out a tranquil
week in these islands. Come then! the hour strikes; and we will coax
the devil for once in a way to serve God."

"Oh, but there is a boundary appointed," Glyndwyr moodily returned.
"You, too, forget that in cold blood this Henry stabbed my best-loved
son. But I do not forget this, and I have tried divers methods which
we need not speak of--I who can at will corrupt the air, and cause
sickness and storms, raise heavy mists, and create plagues and fires
and shipwrecks; yet the life itself I cannot take. For there is a
boundary appointed, sire, and in the end the Master of our Sabbaths
cannot serve us even though he would."

And Richard crossed himself. "You horribly mistake my meaning. Your
practices are your own affair, and in them I decline to dabble. I
design but to trap a tiger with his appropriate bait. For you have a
fief at Caer Idion, I think?--Very well! I intend to herd your sheep
there, for a week or two, after the honorable example of Apollo. It is
your part merely to see that Henry knows I live alone and in disguise
at Caer Idion."

The gaunt Welshman chuckled. "Yes, Bolingbroke would cross the world,
much less the Severn