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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"

"
"Let me serve you, Master," he said earnestly. "I have served
myself for long enough, and it has not turned out well. If I please
you not, I will go where you bid me, but in anywise let me try."
"As you will," I said. "I owe you well-nigh aught you can ask, and
this is little enough."
Then I shook hands with him and parted. It was a strange meeting.
I went back to Howel with a mind that was full of what I might find
on the morrow, but with little hope that there would be anything of
sign that Owen yet lived. Howel was growing anxious for me as the
darkness fell, and was glad to greet me, and I suppose my face told
him somewhat.
"Why," he said, as I stepped into the firelight on the hearth of
the little house, "what is this? Have you heard news at last?"
"I have found one who will take us to the lost valley, but nothing
more. I have heard nought fresh, but that there was indeed a priest
with the men who took Owen away."
"Well, we guessed as much as that; but I tell you plainly, Oswald,
that I fear what may be in store for us in that place. Nona is not
the girl to fancy things, and I know that her dreams must have been
terrible to her. And then you also--"
"I fear, too," I said. "But I do not think that anything will be
worse than this long uncertainty. Well, that is to be seen.


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