"This being the case," pursued Howel, "as there is but a single man to unravel this tangle, Meredith ap David, and as he would consider it his sacred duty conscientiously to give every pedigree if asked--therefore I advise that he go into hiding. Then, when the bishop comes we take it upon ourselves to confound his head with our relationships--consanguine, affine, and spiritual--so that he will be able to do nothing in the matter of dissolving our marriages. A child who is ill-treated lies. In that way it seeks protection. An ill-treated people takes refuge in subterfuge. It is permissible." This long speech was vastly approved, and all present, even the bard himself, voted with uplifted right hand that it should be carried into effect. Then Jorwerth the smith stood up and said-- "It is well spoken; but all is not done. The chief danger menaces us through our head. It is at the head that the deadly blow is aimed. Griffith ap Rhys, our prince, is not among us. A true bishop is not over us. We have none but our Father Pabo; and him we must do our utmost to preserve. It is he who stands in greater peril than we. It is true that I struck a fellow on the arm because he molested the wife of our chief; but that was naught. Blows are exchanged among men and thought lightly of. But our Father Pabo smote the bishop in the mouth and broke his teeth. That will never be forgiven him--never; and the intruder Bernard will compass sea and land to revenge on him that blow. If our head be taken, what will become of us, the members? If it be thought expedient that Meredith the Bard should go into hiding, then I give my voice that our chief should also seek out a refuge where he may not be found." This opinion was met with murmurs of approval. Then the tall Howel rose and said, "You marked what I said before, that although we approve not deception, yet must the weak take resort unto trickery when matched against the strong. So be it--our Archpriest Pabo shall disappear, and disappear so that the enemy shall not know that he be alive. Leave this to me. An opportunity offers--that Heaven has given to us. Ask me not to explain." "It is well. We trust thee, Howel." Then they heard a distant murmur, a hum as of a rising wind, the rustle of trees, the beating of waves. It drew nearer, it waxed louder, it broke out into cries of joy and shouts of exultation as at the bringing in of harvest, and the crowned sheaf--the _tori pen y wrach_. The elders of Caio listened and wondered. Then through the door sprang a young man, and stood where a falling sunbeam from the one round window rested on him. He had flowing golden hair that reached his shoulders in curls. He was tall, lithe, graceful, and beautiful. In a moment they all knew him, as those had recognized him on the way and had accompanied him to the churchtown.