After waiting until the men were in their places, Wulf ran forward across the open ground with his three companions. There was no door to the hut, and on entering it they saw that its only occupant was a decrepit old woman. She gave a cry of dismay at the entrance of the strangers.

"Tell her not to be alarmed," Wulf said to the interpreter.

"We do not desire to do her any harm. Now ask her if she lives here by herself," he went on, when the interpreter had spoken to the old woman.

"She lives here with her two sons," the man said; "they are away. There were beacon-fires on the hills last evening, and they went out. She does not know when they will return."

"Ask her how far it is to Porthwyn."

The answer was most satisfactory. "It is but three miles away, my lord. It lies in the valley of which this is a branch."

"That is good news indeed, Beorn," Wulf said. "The boy led us in the right direction, perhaps because he thought that if he did not do so we should perceive it and tax him with treachery. But it is more likely that he wished to lead us so close that he could, when he escaped, carry the news of our being in the neighbourhood, in time for the Welshmen to surround and cut us off before we could return. As she says that the beacon-fires were lighted in the evening he can have lost no time, and the country must be aroused. I wish we had the whole force here."