Pabo, the Priest: A Novel

by S. Baring-Gould

"There is not a man is not armed, and the women each bear a torch; they come with them—to see revenge done on us."

Then up came Cadell. He was trembling.

"Rogier," he said, "this is no pylgain for us—the whole country is stirring. The whole people is under arms, and swearing to have our blood."

"We will show these conies of Cynwyl that we are not afraid of them."

"They are no conies now, but lions. Can you stand against a thousand men? And—this is not all, I warrant. The whole of the Towy Valley, and that of the Teify, all Dyfed, maybe all Wales, is up to-night. Can you make your way through?"

Rogier uttered a curse.

"By the paunch of the Bastard. I relish not running before those conies."

"Then tarry—and they will hang you beside Cynwyl's bell, where you slung their kinsmen."

Rogier's face became mottled with mingled rage and fear.

Meanwhile his men had rallied around them, running from the several houses they were lodging in; a panic had seized them. Some, without awaiting orders, were saddling their horses.