the plot thickens.
during the residence of gadarn at the court of king hudibras, that wily northern chief had led the king to understand that one of his lieutenants had at last discovered his daughter branwen in the hands of a band of robbers, from whom he had rescued her, and that he expected her arrival daily.
“but what made the poor child run away?” asked the king at one of his interviews with his friend. “we were all very fond of her, and she of us, i have good reason to believe.”
“i have been told,” replied the chief, “that it was the fear of gunrig.”
“gunrig! why, the man was to wed my daughter. she had no need to fear him.”
“that may be so, but i know—though it is not easy to remember how i came to know it—that gunrig had been insolent enough to make up to her, after he was defeated by bladud, and she was so afraid of him that she ran away, and thus fell into the hands of robbers.”
while the chief was speaking, hudibras clenched his hands and glared fiercely.
“dared he to think of another girl when he was engaged to my daughter!” he said between his teeth. “it is well that gunrig is dead, for assuredly i would have killed him.”
“it is well indeed,” returned gadarn, “for if your killing had not been sufficient, i would have made it more effectual. but he is out of the way now, so we may dismiss him.”
“true—and when may we expect branwen back again, poor child?” asked the king.
“in a day or two at latest. from what was told me by the runner who was sent on in advance, it is possible that she may be here to-morrow, in time for the sports.”
the wily chief had settled it in his own mind that branwen should arrive exactly at the time when there was to be a presentation of chiefs; which ceremony was to take place just before the commencement of the sports. this arrangement he had come to in concert with a little old woman in a grey shawl, who paid him a private visit daily.
“do you know, gadarn, who this youth cormac is, whom bladud raves so much about?”
the northern chief was seized at that moment with one of those violent fits of sneezing to which of late he had become unpleasantly subject.
“oh! ye—ye—y–ha! yes;—excuse me, king, but since i went to that hot swamp, something seems to have gone wrong wi’—wi’—ha! my nose.”
“something will go worse wrong with it, chief, if you go on like that. i thought the last one must have split it. well, what know you about cormac?”
“that he appears to be a very good fellow. i can say nothing more about him than that, except that your son seems to think he owes his life to his good nursing at a critical point in his illness.”
“i know that well enough,” returned the king, “for bladud has impressed it on me at least a dozen times. he seems to be very grateful. indeed so am i, and it would please me much if i had an opportunity of showing my gratitude to the lad. think you that there is any chance of finding out where he has disappeared to?”
“not the least chance in the world.”
“indeed!” exclaimed the king in surprise. “that is strange, for bladud, who has just left me, says that he has the best of reasons for believing that we shall have certain news of him tomorrow. but go, gadarn, and consult my doctor about this complaint of yours, which interrupts conversation so awkwardly. we can resume our talk at some other time.”
gadarn obediently went, holding his sides as if in agony, and sneezing in a manner that caused the roof-tree of the palace to vibrate.
returning to his own room he found the little old woman in grey awaiting him.
“you’ve been laughing again, father,” she said. “i see by the purpleness of your face. you’ll burst yourself at last if you go on so.”
“oh! you little old hag—oh! cormac—oh! branwen, i hope you won’t be the death of me,” cried the chief, flinging his huge limbs on a couch and giving way to unrestrained laughter, till the tears ran down his cheeks. “if they did not all look so grave when speaking about you, it wouldn’t be so hard to bear. it’s the gravity that kills me. but come, branwen,” he added, as he suddenly checked himself and took her hand, “what makes you look so anxious, my child?”
“because i feel frightened, and ashamed, and miserable,” she answered, with no symptom of her sire’s hilarity. “i doubt if i should have followed bladud—but if i had not he would have died—and i don’t like to think of all the deceptions i have been practising—though i couldn’t very well help it—could i? then i fear that bladud will forget cormac when he learns to despise branwen—”
“despise branwen!” shouted gadarn, fiercely, as his hand involuntarily grasped the hilt of his sword. “if he did, i would cleave him from his skull to his waist—”
“quiet you, my sweet father,” said branwen, with a little smile, “you know that two can play at that game, and that you have a skull and a waist as well as bladud—though your waist is a good deal thicker than his. i’m not so sure about the skull!”
“i accept your reproof, child, for boastfulness is hateful in a warrior. but get up, my love. what would happen if some one came into the room and found a little old hag sitting on my knee with her arm around my neck?”
“ah, true, father. i did not think of that. i’m rather given to not thinking of some things. perhaps that inquisitive servitor may be—no, he’s not there this time,” said branwen, reclosing the door and sitting down on a stool beside the chief. “now come, father, and learn your lesson.”
gadarn folded his hands and looked at his child with an air of meek humility.
“well?”
“well, first of all, you must tell the king tomorrow, at the right time, that i have just come back, and am very tired and shall not appear till you take me to him while the other people are being presented. then you will lead me forward and announce me with a loud voice, so that no one shall fail to hear that i am branwen, your daughter, you understand? now, mind you speak well out.”
“i understand—with a shout, something like my battle-cry!”
“not exactly so loud as that, but so as bladud shall be sure to hear you; and he will probably be near to his father at the time.”
“just so. what next?”
“oh, that’s all you will have to do. just retire among the other courtiers then, and leave the rest to me.”
“that’s a very short lesson, my little one; would you not like to be introduced to bladud too? he does not know you, you know.”
“certainly not; that would ruin all—you dear old goose. just do exactly what i tell you, and you will be sure to go right.”
“how like your dear mother you are, my little one, in your modest requirements!”
having finished the lesson, the little old woman retired to a remote part of the palace which, through hafrydda’s influence, had been assigned to her, and the great northern chief, unbuckling his sword-belt, called lustily for his mid-day meal.
customs at that date, you see, were more free-and-easy than they are now, and less ceremonious. the visitors at the palace of king hudibras were expected only to appear at the royal board at the evening meal after all the business or pleasure of each day was over. at all other times they were supposed to do as they pleased and shout for food as they happened to require it.
it is perhaps unnecessary to comment on the exceeding convenience of this custom, leaving, as it did, every one to follow the bent of inclination, from earliest morn till dewy eve, with the prospect of an enjoyable reunion after dark—during which, of course, the adventures of each were narrated, exaggerated, underrated, or commented on, as the case might be, and the social enjoyments were enhanced by warlike and sentimental song as well as by more or less—usually more than less—thrilling story.
