"No; only two brothers."

"More brothers! and what are their names?"

"Llewelyn and Howel."

"Llewelyn? Why, that is the name of the Prince of North Wales that the
king is going to fight against and conquer. Do you think when he has
done so that he will come here and conquer you, too?"

Wendot's cheek burned a sudden red; but he made no reply, for at that
moment a head suddenly appeared round an angle of the wall, and a heavy
grip was laid upon the shoulder of the child. A wild face and a pair of
flashing black eyes were brought into close proximity with hers, and a
smothered voice spoke in fierce, low accents.



CHAPTER II. THE BROTHERS


"What is that you dare to say?"

The voice was harsh, the words were spoken with a rough accent, unlike
the gentler tones of Wendot and Griffeth. The child uttered a little cry
and shrank back away from the grip of the strong hand, and might have
been in some danger of losing her balance and of falling over the
balustrade, had not Wendot thrown a protecting arm round her, whilst
pushing back with the other hand that of the rude interloper.