raise his song over thy grave, and the bosses of shields shall be
placed at intervals, as rises and falls the sound of song. Over the
grave of two shall a new mound arise, and we will bid the mound speak
to others in the fair days to come. But distant yet be the hour when
the mighty shall be laid low! and the tongue of thy bard may yet chant
the rush of the lion from the toils and the spears. Hope still!"

Gryffyth, for answer, leant on the harper's shoulder, and pointed
silently to the sea, that lay, lake-like at the distance, dark-studded
with the Saxon fleet. Then turning, his hands stretched over the
forms that, hollow-eyed and ghost-like, flitted between the walls, or
lay dying, but mute, around the waterspring. His hand then dropped,
and rested on the hilt of his sword.

At this moment there was a sudden commotion at the outer entrance of
the wall; the crowd gathered to one spot, and there was a loud hum of
voices. In a few moments one of the Welch scouts came into the
enclosure, and the chiefs of the royal tribes followed him to the carn
on which the King stood.

"Of what tellest thou?" said Gryffyth, resuming on the instant all the
royalty of his bearing.

"At the mouth of the pass," said the scout, kneeling, "there are a
monk bearing the holy rood, and a chief, unarmed. And the monk is
Evan, the Cymrian, of Gwentland; and the chief, by his voice, seemeth
not to be Saxon. The monk bade me give thee these tokens" (and the
scout displayed the broken torque which the King had left in the grasp
of Harold, together with a live falcon belled and blinded), "and bade
me say thus to the King: Harold the Earl greets Gryffyth, son of