Tomar was one of the stranger warriors whom Sigild had kept near him after the meeting above mentioned. Had these foreign warriors been forced to quit their native regions in consequence of the devastation of their estates and the ruin of their families, as the Brenn had affirmed; or had they been banished by their countrymen for certain misdeeds? We cannot say. Certain it is that they were devoted body and soul to Sigild, who on his part was in a position liberally to reward their devotion. Tomar was of medium height, and his large head, on a short neck bristling with harsh, thick hair, seemed to move with difficulty. His face also preserved a kind of immobility; and but for his grey eyes, which, under his bushy eyebrows, seemed to penetrate in every direction, the man might have been taken for a rough-hewn image of wood. With curved back, long arms, always falling down by the side of his body, and legs heavy and bent, Tomar could nevertheless perform a march of twelve hours in succession without turning his head. Yet at the end of the journey this automaton-like being had seen all that was visible through the whole route, and could give an account of what he had observed with the most minute exactness and in the most perfect sequence. He could speak many Gallic dialects, but no one--not even Sigild--knew his past history. Tomar rarely laughed. A travelling merchant had brought an ape into the valley; and witnessing the grimaces of this specimen of the quadrumana, Tomar burst into a fit of laughter. It was almost the only time that he had permitted himself such an ebullition, and if any one wanted to provoke anything like a smile upon his rigid countenance, he must mention the ape. [Illustration: SIGILD AND TOMAR.]