“Pen y Gaer!” exclaimed Owen and Tom and Jane, looking at one another.
“An’ in this dream I saw many strange things, garments unlike aught men wear now.”
“Aye,” agreed Jane, “but it was all a dream.”
“Nay, nay,” replied the Stranger, “can you not tell me of it?”
“That we can,” said Owen.
“Tut,” interrupted Tom, “there is a round tower, aye, two round towers, the one by Pen y Gaer, south-west over Bryn Bannog, down the bridle-path by Llyn Cwm-y-stradlyn.”
“Aye, but, lad,” objected Owen, “the other——”
“The other’s further away, more like a sheep-pen once than a tower for any fortress.”
Owen’s face was perplexed, but Tom’s calm, and his eyes keen with light.
“Rest here, Stranger,” he said. “On the morrow you shall start out for your treasure, up over Bryn Bannog.”