But what shall amend this fault ?" I had listened for some sound from Howel and Evan, but since the footsteps passed up the glen I had heard none until this moment.
Then came one cry from far upward, and silence thereafter.

Morfed heard it and looked up, setting at the same time his hand on the edge of the altar stone.
The golden sickle flashed as he did so, and at that, swift as the flash itself, the adder stiffened its coils, and its head flew back, baring the long fangs, and twice it struck the hand deeply.
"I am answered," Morfed said quietly.

"My life shall amend." But he never moved his hand, and the adder swiftly slid from off the stone and sought some hiding place in the loose rocks at the cliff foot, and the priest watched it go, motionless.
"Look you, Saxon," he said, lifting his eyes to me; "now I must die, and with me ends the line of the Druids of this land of the olden faith.

Yonder in the Cymric land beyond the narrow sea whence Howel came it shall not be lost.

The hills shall keep it, and there the slow mind of the Saxon shall not slay the old powers as you have slain them in me.