"None; but we hope much from you. At least, your coming will cheer
the old king, for he is well-nigh despairing."
Now I was prepared to see some change in Gerent by reason of all
this sorrow and trouble, but not for all that was plain when I
first set eyes on him presently. Old and shrunken he seemed, and
his voice was weary and dull. Yet there came a new light into his
eyes as he saw me, and he greeted me most kindly, bidding me, after
a few words of welcome, to rest and eat awhile after the long ride,
before we spoke together of troubles.
So in a little time I sought him again, and found him in a room
with warm sunlight streaming into it, making the strange pictured
walls bright and cheerful, and yet somewhat over close for one who
loves the open air or the free timbered roof that loses itself in
the smoke wreaths overhead, with the wind blowing through it as it
blows through the forest whence it was wrought, and with twitter of
birds to mind one of that also. Nevertheless, the old king in his
purple mantle with its golden hem over the white linen tunic, and
his little golden circlet on his curling white hair, seemed in
place there, even as I minded thinking that Owen in his British
array seemed in place.
Now Howel stood where Owen was wont to stand, and the only other in
the room was the lady, who rose from the king's side to greet me.
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