“And what good shall we reap from that?  We shall but have another English tyrant set over us.  Better kill thee outright, as a warning to all who may come after.”

But Raoul clasped the knees of his foe, and lifted his voice again in passionate appeal.

“Kill me not; what good would that do you or your cause?  I tell you it would but raise Edward’s ire, and he would come with fire and sword to devastate these lands as I have never done.  Listen, and I will tell you what I will do.  Spare but my life, and I will entreat the king to restore these lands to your feudal lords, Llewelyn and Howel ap Res Vychan.  It was by my doing that they were wrested from them.  I confess it freely now.  Grant me but my life, and I will undo the work I have done.  I will restore to you your youthful chiefs.  Again I swear it; and I have the ear of his Grace.  If thou hast thy country’s cause at heart thou wilt hear me in this thing.  I will give you back the lords you all love.  I will trouble you no more myself.  I would I had never seen this evil place.  It has been nought but a curse to me from the day it was bestowed.”

The man uttered a harsh laugh, and stood as if considering.  Raoul, whose eyes never left the shining blade his foe held suspended in his hand, pleaded yet more and more eloquently, and, as it seemed, with some effect, for the soldier presently sheathed his weapon, and bid the wretched youth rise and follow him.  Raoul obeying, soon found himself in the presence of a wild crew of Welsh kerns, who were holding high revelry in the banqueting hall, whilst his own English servants —­ those, at least, who had not effected their escape —­ lay dead upon the ground, the presence of bleeding corpses at their very feet doing nothing to check the savage mirth and revelry of the victors, who had been joined by the whole of the Welsh garrison, only too glad of an excuse for rising against the usurper.

A silence fell upon the company as the dark-bearded soldier marched his captive into the hall, the yell of triumph being hushed by commanding gesture from the captor.  A long and unintelligible debate followed, Raoul only gathering from the faces of those present what were their feelings towards him.  He stood cowering and quaking before that fierce assembly —­ a pitiful object for all eyes.  But at length his captor briefly informed him that his terms were accepted:  that if he would write his request to the king and obtain its fulfilment, he should go free with a whole skin; but that, pending the negotiation, which could be carried on by the fathers of the Abbey of Strata Florida, he would remain a close prisoner, and his ransom would be the king’s consent.