one refused to join in the great shout of welcome that rose when
Owen pledged them all.

It was a good welcome, and the face of the old king grew bright as
he heard it.

Then the harpers sang; I did not think their ways here so pleasant
as our own, where the harp goes round the hall, and every man takes
his turn to sing, or if he has no turn for song, tells tale or asks
riddle that shall please the guests. Certainly, these Welsh folk
were readier to talk than we, and maybe the meats were more dainty
and the wines finer than ours, and in truth the Welsh mead was good
and the Welsh ale mighty, but men seemed to care little for the
sport that should come after the meal was over. Yet these harpers
sang well, and from them I learnt more about my foster father than
he had ever cared to tell me, for they sang of old deeds of his.
Doubtless they made the most of them, for it would seem from their
songs that he had fought with Cornish giants as an everyday thing,
and that he had been the bane of more than one dragon. But one
knows how to sift the words of the gleeman's song, and they told me
at least that Owen had been a great champion ere he left his home.

Still, I missed the bright fire on the hearth, and the ways of the
court were too stately for me here. Men seemed not to like the
cheerful noise of my honest house-carles, who jested and laughed as
they would have done in the hall of Ina, who loved to see and hear
that his men were merry. We should have thought that there was
something wrong if there had not been plenty of noise at the end of
the long tables below the salt.