“But you will not surely go without arms?” said Beniah.
“Why not? If I am doomed to die at any rate, why should I take the life of any man to save my own?”
“Let me at least give you a bow and a sheaf of arrows. You cannot procure food without these.”
“Well, you are right. I will accept your kind offer. To say truth, my heart was so crushed at first by this blow, that such matters did not occur to me when I left; for it is terrible to think of having to die of a slow disease without father, mother, or sister to comfort one!”
“It is indeed, my son,” returned Beniah with much feeling. “If you will accept it, I can give you a word of comfort.”
“Give it me,” said Bladud; “for I need it much,—if it be but true.”
“It is true,” returned the Hebrew earnestly; “for in one of the books of our holy men who spoke for the All-Father, it is written, ‘When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.’”
“It is a good word,” returned the prince; “and I can well believe it comes from the All-Father, for is He not also All-Good? Yet I can scarcely claim it as mine, for my father and mother have not forsaken me, but I them.”
A few minutes more, and Bladud rose to depart. He took the bow and arrows in his left hand, and, totally forgetting for the moment the duty of keeping himself aloof from his fellow-men, he shook hands warmly with Beniah, patted the old woman kindly on the shoulder, and went out into the dark night.
The moment he was gone Branwen started up with flashing eyes that were still bedewed with tears, and seized the old man’s hand.