"Dead! I know he is dead! I saw his body!"
Goronwy broke into a mocking laugh.
"I saw him—charred; and I had him buried under a dungheap outside the church garth, as befitted one struck down by the judgment of Heaven."
"Pabo is not dead," repeated Goronwy jeeringly.
"He is dead. It was a manifest miracle. I have told the bishop of it. It would spoil everything if, after I had announced it, he were found not to be dead."
"Yes," said the young man, rubbing his large hands together, "it would spoil everything."
Then, seized by a sudden terror, Cadell exclaimed, "It was threatened—the staff of Cynwyl would raise the dead. It has done it before."
"Oh! the staff of Cynwyl had naught to do with it."
"Merciful heavens, angels and saints protect me! If that burned lump is raised, and walks, and were to come here, and—come to me when in bed——!" In the horror of the thought, Cadell was unable to conclude the sentence. But he broke forth: "It is not so. If he be alive, he is no longer under the dungheap where he was laid. I will go see."
"Go, by all means," said Goronwy, and laughed immoderately.