"Nona saw it troubled," Howel said at last.
But I answered what was in my mind, with a sort of despair:
"He never told me where Owen lies."
"But I think we have found him, or nearly," Howel answered. "Come with me. This is no place for us to bide in. Did you hear those voices?"
I had heard the echoes from the rocks after the great crash, and they were strange and wild enough, but I heard nothing more.
"I heard one shout some time since," I said, rising up from where I still sat as Howel had left me.
"Nay, but the wailing when the stone fell," he said. "Wailing from all around. Wailing as of the lost. Come hence, Oswald."
I do not know if the man of the more ancient race heard more than I, mingled with those wild echoes, but I know that Howel the prince feared little. Now he was afraid, even in the bright sunlight, and owned it.
But the first shock had passed from me, and I looked for our horses. They had gone. I think that the fall of the menhir scared them, for they were yet tied where Evan left them, just before that.
"Howel, the horses have broken loose and gone," I cried.