“Yes, for a very long time, and he’ll never find him,” replied Branwen with a merry laugh.
“Well, then, we must find some means of getting him home without letting him know why we want him,” continued the princess.
“Just so, but that won’t be easy,” returned the other with a significant look, “for he is very fond of Cormac, and won’t easily be made to give up looking for him.”
“You conceited creature, you are too sure of him.”
“Not at all. Only as Cormac. I wish I were sure of him as Branwen!”
“Perchance he might like you best as the little old woman in grey.”
“It may be so. I think he liked me even as a witch, for he patted my shoulder once so kindly.”
“I’ll tell you what—I’ll go and consult father,” said the princess.
“No, you shan’t, my dear, for he is not to know anything about it just yet. But I will go and consult my father. He will give me good advice, I know.”
The result of Branwen’s consultation with her father was that the Hebrew was summoned to his presence. An explanation took place, during which Gadarn attempted to look grave, and dignified, as became a noted northern chief, but frequently turned very red in the face and vented certain nasal sounds, which betrayed internal commotion.