He was uneasy, as well, on another head. Rogier had let drop a hint that his brother intended to reduce the Archpriesthood of Caio to a mere vicariate on small tithe, and to appropriate to himself the great tithe with the object of eventually endowing therewith a monastery in the basin of the Cothi, probably by the tarns at the southern end. "We shall never crush the spirit out of this people," said Rogier, "unless we plant a castle on Pen-y-ddinas, or squat an abbey by those natural fishponds at Talley." If this were done, then he, Cadell, would have been inadequately repaid for the vexations and discomforts he would be forced to endure. The troop sent with him, Cadell could not but see, had done their utmost to roughen his path. They had exasperated the people beyond endurance. As he sat thus musing a young man entered cautiously, looked around, and sidled towards him. He was deformed. The chaplain looked up and asked what he required. "I have come for a talk," said the visitor. "May I sit? I know this hall well; it belonged to my father. I am Goronwy, son of the former Archpriest Ewan or John, as you please to call him." Cadell signed to a seat. He was not ill-pleased at a distraction from his unpleasant thoughts, and he was not a little gratified to find a man of the place ready to approach him without apparent animosity or suspicion. "You do not appear to me to have a pleasant place," pursued Goronwy. "I saw a beetle once enter a hive. The bees fell on him, and in spite of his hardness, stung him to death, and after that built a cairn of wax over him. There he lay all the summer, and every bee that entered or left the hive trampled on the mound of wax that covered their enemy." "Their stings shall be plucked out," said Cadell. "Aye, but you cannot force them to furnish you with honey, nor prevent them from entombing you in wax. They will do it--imperceptibly, and tread you underfoot at the last." Cadell said nothing to this; he muttered angrily and contemptuously, and drew back from the fire to look at his visitor. A lad with a long face, keen, beady eyes, restless and cunning, long arms, and large white hands. His body was misshapen and short, but his limbs disproportionately long. "I should have been Archpriest here," pursued he; "but because I am not straight as a wand, they rejected me. In your Latin Church, are they as particular on this point?" "We can dispense with most rules--if there be good reason for it." "Do you think, in the event of your getting tired of being here, among those who do not love you, that you could make room for me?" "For you!" Cadell stared. "Aye! I ought to have been chief here, only they passed me over for Pabo. I have a hereditary right to be both chief and priest in Caio." Then Cadell laughed. "You are a misshapen fool," he said; "dost think that Bishop Bernard would give thee such a place as this--to foment rebellion against him?"