54 ?^otod Dele's alt, 



natural gentleness of Owen Glendour had been perverted 

 by the scenes in which he mingled, and by the oppres- 

 sion that was exercised towards him. He saw only, in 

 the husband and the father who had fallen by his hand, 

 one, who, if he favoured not the cause of the usurper, 

 was yet indifferent to the welfare of his country. He, 

 therefore, sought not for him Christian burial, in con- 

 secrated ground. 



Glendour could no longer tarry in the domains of the 

 murdered chieftain, for he knew how greatly Howel was 

 beloved, and that when the hour of his return was 

 passed, every glen and forest-path would be sought for 

 him. Calling to his companion, he hastened back to 

 his stronghold, Glyndwrdry, where, amid rocks and 

 waterfalls, and the howling of fierce winds, he passed a 

 few more unquiet years. The wretched day which 

 caused him to become a murderer, and deprived Nannau 

 of her lord, was one of anxiety and grief. Far and 

 wide did his vassals haste, now down the glen, now in 

 the depth of the still forest, now scouring over the wide 

 moor, and now making every rock resound with his 

 name. But in vain did they hurry along the forest 

 paths, or dash amid the torrent's roar, or scour over the 

 wide moor, echo alone answered to their loud shouts. 

 In vain did the sorrowing wife of Howel look out 

 through the gloom of evening, and listen for his foot- 

 steps ; and when the moon shone bright, and louder 

 sounded the wild torrent, and the whoop of the owl was 



