Dunwal and his daughter had some few men and pack horses with them,
and one Cornish maiden who attended Mara, so that we were quite a
little train as we rode from Pembroke toward Tenby in the late
afternoon, with a score of Howel's guards to care for us in all
honour. Part of the way, too, Howel rode, and when we came to the
hill above the Caerau woods, and looked down on the winding waters
again, he said to me:

"I have forgotten to tell you that my men took Evan. By this time
he has met his deserts. I have done full justice on him."

"Thanks, Prince," I said with a shudder, as I minded what I had
saved the man from. "Did your men question him?"

Howel smote his thigh.

"Overhaste again!" he cried in vexation. "That should have been
done; but I bade them do justice on him straightway if they laid
hands on him. They did it."

I said no more, nor did the prince. It was in my mind that he was
blaming himself for somewhat more than carelessness. So presently
he must turn and leave us, and we bade him farewell with all thanks
for hospitality, and he bade me not forget Pembroke, and went his
way.

Then I found Dunwal pleasant enough as a companion, and so also was
Mara, and the few miles passed quickly, until we rode through the
gates of the strong stockade which bars the way to the Danes' town