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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"A Prince of Cornwall A Story of Glastonbury and the West in the Days of Ina of Wessex"

For that
was the first thing we feared. And word has gone to Howel of Dyfed
and Mordred of Morganwg, farther up the channel, that they should
watch their shores also. Nought has been left undone that may be
done."
So it came to pass that on the next morning Jago and I rode away
together along the great road that leads westward to Exeter and
beyond, asking each train of chapmen whom we met if there was yet
news, and hearing nought but sorrow for the loss of the prince they
had hailed with such joy again. Nor did we draw rein, save to
change horses, till we clattered up the ancient paved street of the
city on its hill, and dismounted at the gates of the white palace
where Gerent waited me.
There the first man who came out to greet me was one whom I was
altogether glad to see, though his presence astonished me for a
moment. Howel of Dyfed passed from the great door and bade me
welcome.
"It is a different meeting from that which we had planned, Thane,"
he said, somewhat sadly. "I am here to help you if I can; for when
we heard that Owen was lost much as you were, we came over
straightway, there being reasons of her own which would not let
Nona rest till we had sailed. Presently you will hear them from
herself, for she is here. Glad am I to see you."
"There is no fresh hope?" I asked, as we went in.


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