Wendot’s interest was aroused.  Something in his mother’s expression told him that the thing of which she spoke was a matter of some importance.  As an eldest son and forward for his years, and of a reflective and thoughtful turn, he had often been consulted by his parents, and particularly by his mother, in matters rather beyond his comprehension, and had shared in discussions which many youths of his age would have shunned and despised.  Now, therefore, he looked eagerly at his mother and said: 

“What is it he wishes to say Canst thou not tell me thyself?”

The Lady of Dynevor paused awhile in thought; and when she spoke, it did not appear to be in direct reply to her son’s question.

“Wendot,” she said gravely, “thou hast heard much talk of the troubled state of these times and of the nation’s affairs.  Thou hast lived long enough to see how hopeless some amongst us feel it ever to hope for unity amongst ourselves.  We are torn and distracted by faction and feud.  Families are banded together against families, and brothers strive with brothers for the inheritance each claims as his own.  Each lord of some small territory tries to wrest from his weaker neighbour that which belongs to him; and if for a moment at some great crisis petty feuds are forgotten, and a blow is struck for national liberty, scarce has peace been proclaimed again before the old strife breaks out once more, and our fair land is desolated by a more grievous war than ever the English wage.”

Wendot bent his head in voiceless assent.  He knew something of his country’s history, and that his mother spoke only the sad truth.

“My son,” continued she after a pause, “it chances sometimes in this troubled life of ours that we are called upon to make choice, not between good and evil, but between two courses, both of which are beset with difficulties and obstacles, both of which mingle together evil and good, for which and against which much may be argued on both sides, and many things that are true be said for and against both.  To some such choice as this has our poor country now come.  Experience has taught us that she is incapable of uniting all her forces and of making of herself one compact, united kingdom.  That course, and that alone, would be her true salvation; but that course she will not take, and failing that, she has to choose between being torn and rent by faction till she is an easy prey to the English king, who will then divide her territories amongst his own hungry and rapacious barons, or for the princes to submit to pay him the homage for their lands which he (possibly with injustice) demands, but which if paid will make of him their friend and protector, and will enable the country to live in peace and prosperity, assured that the king will support those who acknowledge him, and that he will not deprive of their ancestral rights any who will bring their homage to him, and hold their territory as it were from him.  Understandest thou thus much?”