While the prince and the Hebrew were thus conversing, Cormac was speeding towards the camp of Gadarn. He quickly arrived, and was immediately arrested by one of the sentinels. Taken before one of the chief officers, he was asked who he was, and where he came from.

 

“That I will tell only to your chief,” said the lad.

 

“I am a chief,” replied the officer proudly.

 

“That may be so; but I want to speak with your chief, and I must see him alone.”

 

“Assuredly thou art a saucy knave, and might be improved by a switching.”

 

“Possibly; but instead of wasting our time in useless talk, it would be well to convey my message to Gadarn, for my news is urgent; and I would not give much for your head if you delay.”

 

The officer laughed; but there was that in the boy’s tone and manner that induced him to obey.

 

Gadarn, the chief, was seated on a tree-stump inside of a booth of boughs, leaves, and birch-bark, that had been hastily constructed for his accommodation. He was a great, rugged, north-country man, of immense physical power—as most chiefs were in those days. He seemed to be brooding over his sorrows at the time his officer entered.

 

“A prisoner waits without,” said the officer. “He is a stripling; and says he has urgent business to communicate to you alone.”

 

“Send him hither, and let every one get out of ear-shot!” said Gadarn gruffly.

 

A minute later Cormac appeared, and looked wistfully at the chief, who looked up with a frown.

 

“Are you the pris—”

 

He stopped suddenly, and, springing to his feet, advanced a step with glaring eyes and fast-coming breath, as he held out both hands.

 

With a cry of joy, Cormac sprang forward and threw his arms round Gadarn’s neck, exclaiming—

 

“Father!—dear father!”

 

For a few moments there was silence, and a sight was seen which had not been witnessed for many a day—two or three gigantic tears rolled down the warrior’s rugged cheeks, one of them trickling to the end of his weather-beaten nose and dropping on his iron-grey beard.

 

“My child,” he said at length, “where—how came you—why, this—”

 

“Yes, yes, father,” interrupted the lad, with a tearful laugh. “I’ll tell you all about it in good time; but I’ve got other things to speak of which are more interesting to both of us. Sit down and let me sit on your knee, as I used to do long ago.”

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