the Squire in a sailor's grave; or, in other words, to sew him up in
a spare sail, and weighting it well, sink it for ever. He had not
broached the subject, from a certain fear of Owen's passionate
repugnance to the plan; otherwise, if he had consented, they might
have returned to Penmorfa, and passively awaited the course of
events, secure of Owen's succession to Bodowen, sooner or later; or
if Owen was too much overwhelmed by what had happened, Ellis would
have advised him to go away for a short time, and return when the
buzz and the talk was over.

Now it was different. It was absolutely necessary that they should
leave the country for a time. Through those stormy waters they must
plough their way that very night. Ellis had no fear--would have had
no fear, at any rate, with Owen as he had been a week, a day ago; but
with Owen wild, despairing, helpless, fate-pursued, what could he do?

They sailed into the tossing darkness, and were never more seen of
men.

The house of Bodowen has sunk into damp, dark ruins; and a Saxon
stranger holds the lands of the Griffiths.