“Choose, boy,” he said with brief sternness.  “Either do my will and obey me, or thou wilt remain a close prisoner till thou hast come to thy senses.  My guests shall not be insulted by thy forward tongue.  Barbarous and wild as the English love to call us, they shall find that Res Vychan is not ignorant of those laws which govern the world in which they live and move.  Ask pardon of the lady, or to the dungeon thou goest.”

Llewelyn glanced up into his father’s face, and saw no yielding there.  Howel was making vehement signs to him which he and he alone could interpret.  His other brothers were eagerly gazing at him, and Griffeth even went so for as to murmur into his ear some words of entreaty.

It seemed as though the silence which followed Res Vychan’s words would never be broken, but at last the culprit spoke, and spoke in a low, sullen tone.

“I meant no harm.  I would not have hurt her.”

“Ask her pardon then, boy, and tell her so.”

“Nay, force him no more,” said the little lady, who was regarding this curious scene with lively interest, and who began to feel sorry for the dark wild boy who had frightened her by his vehemence before; “I was to blame myself.  I should not have spoken as I did.

“Father, tell them how my tongue is always running away with me.  Hast not thou told me a hundred times that it would get me into trouble one of these days?  It is right that he should love his country.  Do not think ill of him for that.”

“Ay, let the lad go now, good friend,” quoth Lord Montacute.  “No doubt this little witch of mine was at the bottom of the mischief.  Her tongue, as she truly says, is a restless and mischievous possession.  She has found a stanch protector at least, and will come to no harm amongst thy stalwart lads.  I could envy thee such a double brace of boys.  I would it had pleased Providence to send me a son.”

“Nay, father, say not so,” cried little Lady Gertrude coaxingly.  “I would not have a brother for all the world.  Thou wouldst love him so well, if thou hadst him, that thou wouldst have none to spare for thy maid.  I have seen how it ever is.  I love to have all thy heart for mine own.”

The father smiled, but Res Vychan’s face was still severe, and he had not loosed his clasp upon Llewelyn’s arm.

“Say that thou art sorry ere I let thee go,” he said, in low but very stern tones; and after a moment’s hesitation, Llewelyn spoke in audible tones.

“I am sorry,” he said slowly; “I am sorry.”

And then as his father’s clasp upon his arm relaxed he darted away like an arrow from the bow, and plunged with Howel through a dark and gloomy doorway which led up a winding turret stair to a narrow circular chamber, which the brothers shared together.