“Vychan, it is even as we have heard.  That false traitor is in open revolt, and he has been even more false than we knew.  What think you of this? —­ he professed to be sorry for his revolt, and sent a letter of urgent pleading to Llewelyn and Arthyn begging them to use their influence with the king to obtain his pardon.  Believing him to be sincere, Llewelyn set out for England not more than two short weeks back, taking with him, on account of the unsettled state of the country, the pick of the men from Carregcennen.  And when this double-dyed traitor knows that Arthyn is alone and unprotected in the castle, what does he do but send a strong band of his soldiers, himself at their head, who obtain entrance by the subterranean passage, slay the guard, and take possession of the fortress.  Arthyn has but bare time to escape with a handful of men, and by hard riding to join her husband on the road to England.

“So now have they turned aside to tell the tale to us, and to summon thee to come with thy men and fight in the king’s quarrel against this wicked man.  And whilst ye lead your soldiers into Wales, Arthyn and I will to the court, to lay the story before the royal Edward, and to gain from him the full and free grants of the castles of Dynevor and Carregcennen for our husbands, who have responded to his call, and have flown to wrest from the traitor the possession he has so unrighteously grasped.”

“Thy wife speaketh wise words, Vychan,” said Llewelyn, whose dark brows wore a threatening look, and who had the appearance of a man deeply stirred to wrath, as indeed he well might be; “and it were well that we lost no time in dallying here.  How many men canst thou summon to thy banner, and when can we be on the march for the south?  The Earl of Cornwall has been called upon to quell this revolt, and he has summoned to his aid all loyal subjects of the king who hold dear the peace and prosperity of their land.

“The days are gone by in which I should despise that call and join the standard of revolt.  The experience of the past has taught me that in the English alliance is Wales’s only hope of tranquillity and true independence and civilization.  When such men as this Res ap Meredith break into revolt against Edward, it is time for us to rally round his standard.  What would our lives, our lands, our liberties be worth were such a double-distilled traitor as he transformed into a prince, as is his fond ambition?”

“True, Llewelyn, true.  The race of kings has vanished from Wales, and methinks there is no humiliation in owning as sovereign lord the lion-hearted King of England.  Moreover, has he not given us a prince of our own, born upon Welsh soil, sprung of a kingly race?  We will rally round the standard of father and son, and trust that in the future a brighter day will dawn for our long-distracted country.”