fell into my hands. We were storming Rhadlan, at the farther end of
the isle; she was there. We war not against women; I feared the
license of my own soldiers, and I sent the lady to Gryffyth. Aldyth
gave me this ring on parting; and I bade her tell Gryffyth that
whenever, at the hour of his last peril and sorest need, I sent that
ring back to him, he might hold it the pledge of his life."

"Is this lady, think you, in the stronghold with her lord?"

"I am not sure, but I fear yes," answered Harold.

"Yet one word: And if Gryffyth refuse, despite all warning?"

Harold's eyes drooped.

"If so, he dies; but not by the Saxon sword. God and our lady speed
you!"




CHAPTER V.


On the height called Pen-y-Dinas (or "Head of the City") forming one
of the summits of Penmaen-mawr, and in the heart of that supposed
fortress which no eye in the Saxon camp had surveyed [163], reclined
Gryffyth, the hunted King. Nor is it marvellous that at that day
there should be disputes as to the nature and strength of the supposed
bulwark, since, in times the most recent, and among antiquaries the