CHAPTER XV
TWO PEBBLES
Tidings of the blow to be struck, reaching the hearts of manyfamilies--six only at first, but with prospect of more afterwards--hadspread through the tribal region. Those who had drawn the unmarkedsticks hurried to their homes, not tarrying to learn who were all theunfortunates; and, although relieved for the present were in fear lestthey should be unfortunate at a subsequent drawing.
All knew that Pabo was in concealment, and that his place of concealmentwas known to none, not even to his wife or to Howel. They had not a clueas to where he was. Some supposed that he had fled to the mountains ofBrecknock, others to Cardigan; some, again, that he had attached himselfto Griffith ap Rhys, who was traversing South Wales, stirring updisaffection and preparing for a general rising of the Welsh againsttheir oppressors.
Yet hardly half a dozen men desired that he should be taken, and thusfree themselves from death. The great and heroic virtue of the Celt liesin his devotion to his chief, for whom he is ready at once to lay downhis life.
The hideous prospect that lay before the unfortunate people of Caio wasone of illimited decimation. Would Rogier weary of his barbarous work?Would it avail to send a deputation to the bishop? It was doubtfulwhether the latter was not as hard of heart as his lay brother.
Gwen, the wife of Howel, was as one stunned. She leaned with both handsagainst the wall of her house, her head drooping between them, with dry,glazed eyes, and for long speechless.
Morwen was now in Howel's house. She had returned to it.
She was pale, and quivering with emotion under the weight of greathorror, unable to speak.
Her eyes were fixed on the despairing woman, from whose lips issued alow moan, and whose bosom heaved with long-drawn, laborious breaths.Morwen was well aware what sacrifices the tribe was making and wouldhave to make for her husband's safety, and this gave inexpressible painto her.
The moans of the poor woman cut her to the heart. At length, unable toendure it longer, she went to her, put her arms round her, and drew herto herself. Then, all at once, with a cry, the wife of Howel shookherself free, and found words--
"Monday! It is on Monday that he must die, and that is our thirtiethwedding-day? For all these years we have been together, as one soul, andit will tear the heart out of my body--and to be hung on thegallows--the shame, the loss--and Howel so clever, so shrewd! Where hasbeen his wit that he could not get free? He always had a cunning aboveother men. And on our wedding-day!" She ran to a coffer and opened it,and drew forth a knitted garment, such as we should nowadays call ajersey.
"See, see!" cried the wretched woman. "I have been fashioning this; athought of him is knitted into every loop I have made, and I have kissedit--kissed it a thousand times because it was for him. He feels the coldin the long winters, and I made this for him that he might be warm, andwherever he was remember me, and bear my kisses and my finger-work abouthim. And he must die, and shiver, and be cold in the grave! Nay, shiverand be cold hanging on the gallows, and the cold winds sway him. Heshall wear my knitted garment. They will let me pass to him, and I willdraw it over him."
Then in at the door came the old man, who had been left when his son wastaken. He was supporting that son's wife, and at the same time wascarrying her child, which she was incapable of sustaining. She wasfrantic with grief.
"I have brought one sorrowful woman to another," said the old man. "Thisis Sheena. She must not see it. They are taking my son now to ----. Keepher here, she is mad. She will run there, and if she sees, she will die.For the child's sake, pity her, make her live--calm her."
She had been allowed an hour with her husband in their house, and thenthe soldiers had led him away, bound his hands behind his back, and hadconducted him towards the church.
She had followed with the child, crying, plucking at her hair with theone free hand, thrusting from her the old man who would hold her back,striving to reach, to retain her husband, her eyes blinded with terrorand tears, her limbs giving way under her.
The five men confined within the court-house heard her piercing cries,her entreaties to be allowed once more to kiss her husband, her screamsas she was repulsed by the guards. They shuddered and put their hands totheir ears; but one, the foxfaced man, whose name was Madoc, burst intoa torrent of curses and of blasphemy till Morgan the Sacristan went tohim in reproof, and then the wretched man turned on him withimprecations.
"Come now, man," said the smith, "why shouldst thou take on sofrantically? We leave wives that we love and that love us; but thy oldcat, good faith! I should esteem it a welcome release to be freed fromher tongue and nails."
On nearing the gallows, where stood Rogier, that captain ordered theremoval of Sheena; and when she saw a ladder set up against thecrosspiece that sustained the bell, her cries ceased, she reeled, andwould have let the child drop had not her father-in-law caught it fromher.
"One kiss--one last kiss! I have forgot something to say--let him blesshis child!" she entreated.
Rogier hesitated and consented, on the condition that she should then beat once removed. Thereupon the desolate woman staggered to the foot ofthe gallows, threw her arms round her husband's neck; and the man whoacted as executioner relaxed the rope that bound his wrists, that hemight bring his hands before him and lay them on his infant's head. Thenthe death-doomed man raised his eyes to heaven and said, "Thebenediction and the strength of God and the help of our fathers Davidand Cynwyl be with thee, my son, and when thou art a man revenge thyfather and thy wronged country."
At once the cord was drawn again, and his hands rebound. The old mantook his daughter-in-law in one arm whilst bearing the babe in theother, and seeing that consciousness was deserting Sheena, hurried herto the house of Howel. There, after a moment of dazed looking about her,she sank senseless on the floor.
Morwen flew to her assistance, and Howel's wife somewhat rallied fromher stupefaction.
At that same moment in burst Angarad, the wife of foxfaced Madoc.
"Where is she?" she shouted, her eyes glaring, her hair bristling withrage. "She is here--she--the wife of our chief. Are we all to be draggedto the gallows because of him? Is every woman to become a widow? He callhimself a priest! Why, his Master gave His life for His sheep, andhe--ours--fleeth and hideth his head, whilst those whom he should guardare being torn by the wolves."
"Silence, woman!" exclaimed the old man wrathfully. "I joy that my sonhas given up his life to save his chief."
"But I am not content to surrender my Madoc," yelled the beldame. "Letus have the hated Saxon or the worst Norman to rule over us, rather thanone who skulks and dares not show his face. My Madoc will be hungto-morrow, as they have hung Sheena's man now. I have seen it. Theypulled him up."
"Be silent," shouted the old man, and tried to shut her mouth.
"I will not be silent. I saw it all. They drew him up, and then a mansprang from the ladder upon his shoulders and stamped."
A cry of agony from the wife of Howel, who flung out her hands, asbefore, against the wall, and stayed herself there. Sheena heardnothing--she was but returning to consciousness.
"Why do you not bring him back?" asked the hag, facing Morwen with fistsclenched, fangs exposed, and eyes glaring. "Why do you keep him hidden,that we all may be widows--and you be happy with your man? What shall Ido without my Madoc? Who will support me? Am I young enough to maintainmyself? Is the whole tribe to be dragged down, that you and your husbandmay live at ease and be merry?"
"Woman," said Morwen, trembling, "I do not know where he is concealed."
"Then find him, and let him come forward to save us all. Shame, I say,shame on him!--the false shepherd--the hireling--who fleeth and carethnot for the sheep!"
The rattle of arms was heard, and at the sound Morwen slipped out of theroom into the inner apartment that she might not be seen.
Immediately two men-at-arms entered, leading Howel between them.
"He is granted one hour," said the man who could speak a few words ofWel
sh. "On Monday he dies."
"Clear the room!" said the old man; and to the soldier: "Remove thisfrantic woman." He indicated Angarad; and he himself, with theirassistance, drew her--swearing, struggling, spluttering with rage--fromthe house. Sheena remained where she had been laid--as yet barelyconscious. Howel's wife dropped into her husband's arms, moaning, stillpowerless to weep.
In the inner chamber, dimly lighted by a small window covered withbladder in place of glass, on a bed sat Morwen, with her hands claspedbetween her knees, looking despairingly before her. Every word of thecruel woman had cut her heart as the stab of an envenomed poignard.
Did Pabo know what was being done at Caio? No--assuredly not. She whohad read his thoughts and knew his heart was well aware that he wouldreadily die himself rather than that any of his people should suffer. Heknew nothing. They, with a rare exception only, would meet their fate,the men give their necks to the halter, the women submit to be madewidows rather than that their master and chief should fall into thehands of his enemies. Brave, true, faithful hearts! But was it rightthat they should be called on to endure such sacrifices? She shuddered.What, would she have him taken and die an ignominious death? Him whomshe loved better than any one--with a one, soul-filling love? Could sheendure such a sacrifice as that? Then she heard the step of Howel comingto the door.
He entered and was with her alone.
"Morwen," said he, in a low voice, "I shall be able shortly to do nomore for my dear chief. Should you ever see him again, tell him from usall--all but perhaps one who is beside himself with fear--that we diewillingly. But with him I can no more communicate. That must be done byyou. It is expedient that he should fly farther; search will be madeeverywhere for him. Where he is, that I know not, though I may have mysuspicion. Do this--at nightfall mount the valley of the Annell till youcome to the stone of Cynwyl."
"The stone of Cynwyl," repeated Morwen mechanically.
"Take a pebble out of the brook and place it upon the rock. That will bea sign that he is not safe, and must fly to other quarters."
"What other tokens be there?"
"Two pebbles was to be the sign that all was safe and he was to return.That is not the case at this present time. Remember, then--One pebble."
"And two calls him hither?"
"Two pebbles. But remember, One only."
"Two pebbles," said Morwen, but so that none heard it: it was said toher own heart.