that this was the princess of whom I had heard Thorgils speak just
now. I should know in a moment, for the first footsteps were on the
long gangplank and pattering across it, while Evan began to smile
and bow profoundly.

Then there came past my litter, stepping daintily across the
planks, a most fair and noble lady, tall and black haired and
graceful, wrapped against the sea air in the rare beaver skins of
the Teifi River, and wonderful stuffs that the traders from the
east bring to Marazion, such as we Saxons seldom see but as
priceless booty, paid for with lives of men in war with West Wales
in days not long gone by.

She half turned as she saw me, and it gave me a little pang, as it
were, to see her draw her dress aside that it might by no means
touch me, no doubt with the same fear of fever that had been in the
mind of my friend at the first. But then she stayed and looked at
me and at Evan, who was yet cringing in some Welsh way of respect
as she passed. Her companions stopped on the gangplank, and they
were silent.

"Why is this sick man on the ship," she said to my captor, with
some little touch of haughtiness. "And why is he swathed thus? What
is wrong with him?"

Evan bowed again, and at once began his tale as he had told it to
Thorgils. But he did not say that I came from near Pembroke at all.
Now he named some other place whose name began with "Llan--" as my
home.