Recovering himself, the man lowered his bow and said something in a dialect so uncouth, that the poor girl did not understand him. Indeed, she perceived, to her horror, that he was half-witted, and could articulate with difficulty.
“I don’t know what you say, good man, but I am lost in this forest, and belong to King Hudibras’ town. I am on my way to visit the hunter of the Hot Swamp, and I would think it so very, very kind if you would guide me to his hut.”
The idiot—for such he was—evidently understood the maiden, though she did not understand him, for he threw back his head, and gave vent to a prolonged gurgling laugh.
Branwen felt that her only chance was to put a bold face on matters. She, therefore, by a violent effort, subdued her emotion and continued.
“You know King Hudibras?”
The man nodded and grinned.
“Then I am quite sure that if you behave well, and show me the way to the Hot Swamp, he will reward you in a way that will make your heart dance with joy. Come, guide me. We have a good deal of the day still before us.”
Thus speaking, she put her hand quietly within that of the idiot, and in a voice of authority said—“lead on!”
Regarding the girl with a look of mute surprise, the man obeyed, but, instead of leading her to the region named, he conducted her over a neighbouring ridge, into what appeared to her to be a robber’s den. There was nothing for it now but to carry out the rôle which she had laid down. The desperate nature of the case seemed to strengthen her to play her part, for, as she was led into the circle of light caused by a camp-fire, round which a band of wild-looking men were standing, a spirit of calm determination seemed to take possession of her soul.
“What strange sort of animal is this you have caught, lad?” demanded one of the band.