By his side stood Griffeth, almost as much his shadow as of yore.  To a casual observer the likeness between the brothers was very remarkable, but a closer survey showed many points of dissimilarity.  Griffeth’s figure was slight to spareness, and save in moments of excitement there was something of languor in his movements.  The colour in his cheeks was not the healthy brown of exposure to sun and wind, but the fleeting hectic flush of long-standing insidious disease, and his eyes had a far-away look —­ dreamy and absorbed; whilst those of his brother expressed rather watchful observation of what went on around him, and resolution to mould those about him to his will.

Facing this fair-haired pair were the twin Lords of Iscennen, considerably changed from the sullen-looking lads of old days, but still with many of their characteristics unchanged.  They were taller and more stoutly built than Wendot and Griffeth, and their dark skins and coal-black hair gave something of ferocity and wildness to their appearance, which look was borne out by the style of dress adopted, whilst the young Lords of Dynevor affected something of the refinement and richness of apparel introduced by the English.

For the past years a friendly intercourse had been kept up between Dynevor and Carregcennen.  The country had been at peace —­ such peace as internal dissensions would allow it —­ and no one had disturbed the sons of Res Vychan in the possession of their ancestral rights.  The tie between the brothers had therefore been more closely drawn, and Wendot’s responsibility for the submissive behaviour of the turbulent twins had made him keep a constant eye upon them, and had withheld them on their side from attempting to foment the small and fruitless struggles against English authority which were from time to time arising between the border-land chief and the Lords of the Marches.

But now something very different was in the wind.  After almost five years of peace with England, revolt had broken out in North Wales.  David, the brother of Llewelyn, had commenced it, and the prince had followed the example thus set him.  He had broken out into open rebellion, and had summoned the whole nation to stand by him in one united and gallant effort to free the country from the foreign foe, and unite it once again as an undivided province beneath the rule of one sovereign.

The call was enthusiastically responded to.  North Wales rose as one man, and flocked to the banners of the prince and his brother.  South Wales was feeling the contagion of coming strife, and the pulse of the nation beat wildly at the thought that they might win liberty by the overthrow of the foe.  One after another the petty chiefs, who had sworn fealty to Edward, renounced their allegiance, and mustered their forces to join those of Llewelyn and David.  The whole country was in a wild ferment of patriotic excitement.  The hour seemed to them to have arrived when all could once again band together in triumphant vindication of their national rights.