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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18778-8.txt b/18778-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5383b42 --- /dev/null +++ b/18778-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9864 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Garthowen, by Allen Raine + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Garthowen + A Story of a Welsh Homestead + + +Author: Allen Raine + + + +Release Date: July 7, 2006 [eBook #18778] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTHOWEN*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +GARTHOWEN + +A Story of a Welsh Homestead. + +by + +ALLEN RAINE. + +Author of "Torn Sails," "A Welsh Singer," +"By Berwen Banks," Etc. + + + + + + + +Sixty-Fifth Thousand +London +Hutchinson & Co. +Paternoster Row + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAP. + + I. A Turn of the Road + II. "Garthowen" + III. Morva of the Moor + IV. The Old Bible + V. The Sea Maiden + VI. Gethin's Presents + VII. The Broom Girl + VIII. Garthowen Slopes + IX. The North Star + X. The Cynos + XI. Unrest + XII. Sara's Vision + XIII. The Bird Flutters + XIV. Dr. Owen + XV. Gwenda's Prospects + XVI. Isderi + XVII. Gwenda at Garthowen + XVIII. Sara + XIX. The "Sciet" + XX. Love's Pilgrimage + XXI. The Mate of the "Gwenllian" + XXII. Gethin's Story + XXIII. Turned Out! + XXIV. A Dance on the Cliffs + + + + +GARTHOWEN + + +CHAPTER I + +A TURN OF THE ROAD + +It was a typical July day in a large seaport town of South Wales. +There had been refreshing showers in the morning, giving place to a +murky haze through which the late afternoon sun shone red and round. +The small kitchen of No. 2 Bryn Street was insufferably hot, in spite +of the wide-open door and window. A good fire burnt in the grate, +however, for it was near tea-time, and Mrs. Parry knew that some of her +lodgers would soon be coming in for their tea. One had already +arrived, and, sitting on the settle in the chimney corner, was holding +an animated conversation with his landlady, who stood before him, one +hand akimbo on her side, the other brandishing a toasting fork. Her +beady black eyes, her brick-red cheeks and hanks of coarse hair, were +not beautiful to look upon, though to-day they were at their best, for +the harsh voice was softened, and there was a humid gentleness in the +eyes not habitual to them. Her companion was a young man about +twenty-three years of age, dark, almost swarthy of hue, tanned by the +suns and storms of foreign seas and many lands, As he sat there in the +shade of the settle one caught a glance of black eyes and a gleam of +white teeth, but the easy, lounging attitude did not show to advantage +the splendid build of Gethin Owens. One of his large brown fists, +resting on the rough deal table, was covered with tattooed +hieroglyphics, an anchor, a mermaid, and a heart, of course! Anyone +conversant with the Welsh language would have divined at once, by the +long-drawn intonation of the first words in every remark, that the +subject of conversation was one of sad or tender interest. + +"Well, indeed," said Mrs. Parry, "the-r-e's missing you I'll be, +Gethin! We are coming from the same place, you see, and you are +knowing all about me, and I about you, and that I supp-o-s-e is making +me feel more like a mother to you than to the other lodgers." + +"Well, you _have_ been like a mother to me, mending my clothes and +watching me so sharp with the drink. Dei anwl! I don't think I ever +took a glass with a friend without you finding me out, and calling me +names. 'Drunken blackguard!' you called me one night, when as sure as +I'm here I had only had a bottle of gingerpop in Jim Jones's shop," and +he laughed boisterously. + +"Well, well," said Mrs. Parry, "if I wronged you then, be bound you +deserved the blame some other time, and 'twas for your own good I was +telling you, my boy. Indeed, I wish I was going home with you to the +old neighbourhood. The-r-e's glad they'll be to see you at Garthowen." + +"Well, I don't know how my father will receive me," said her companion +thoughtfully. "Ann and Will I am not afraid of, but the old man--he +was very angry with me." + +"What _did_ you do long ago to make him so angry, Gethin? I have heard +Tom Powell and Jim Bowen blaming him very much for being so hard to his +eldest son; they said he was always more fond of Will than you, and was +often beating you." + +"Halt!" said Gethin, bringing his fist down so heavily on the table +that the tea-things jingled, "not a word against the old man--the best +father that ever walked, and I was the worst boy on Garthowen slopes, +driving the chickens into the water, shooing the geese over the hedges, +riding the horses full pelt down the stony roads, setting fire to the +gorse bushes, mitching from school, and making the boys laugh in +chapel; no wonder the old man turned me away." + +"But all boys are naughty boys," said Mrs. Parry, "and that wasn't +enough reason for sending you from home, and shutting the door against +you." + +"No," said Gethin, "but I did more than that; I could not do a worse +thing than I did to displease the old man. I was fond of scribbling my +name everywhere. 'Gethin Owens' was on all the gateposts, and on the +saddles and bridles, and once I painted 'G. O.' with green paint on the +white mare's haunch. There was a squall when that was found out, but +it was nothing to the storm that burst upon me when I wrote something +in my mother's big Bible. As true as I am here, I don't remember what +I wrote, but I know it was something about the devil, and I signed it +'Gethin Owens,' and a big 'Amen' after it. Poor old man, he was +shocking angry, and he wouldn't listen to no excuse; so after a good +thrashing I went away, Ann ran after me with my little bundle, and the +tears streaming down her face, but I didn't cry--only when I came upon +little Morva Lloyd sitting on the hillside. She put her arms round my +neck and tried to keep me back, but I dragged myself away, and my tears +were falling like rain then, and all the way down to Abersethin as long +as I could hear Morva crying and calling out 'Gethin! Gethin!'" + +"There's glad she'll be to see you." + +"Well, I dunno. She was used to be very fond of me; she couldn't bear +Will because he was teazing her, but I was like a slave to her. 'I +want some shells to play,' sez she sometimes, and there I was off to +the shore, hunting about for shells for her. 'Take me a ride,' sez +she, and up on my shoulder I would hoist her, as happy as a king, with +her two little feet in my hands, and her little fat hands ketching +tight in my hair, and there's galloping over the slopes we were, me +snorting and prancing, and she laughing all the time like the swallows +when they are flying." + +They were interrupted by a clatter of heavy shoes and a chorus of +boisterous voices, as three sailors came in loudly calling for their +tea. + +"Hello, Gethin! not gone? Hast changed thy mind?" + +"Not a bit of it," said Gethin, pointing to his bag of clothes. "I +have been a long time making up my mind, but it's Garthowen and the +cows and the cawl for me this time and no mistake." + +"And Morva," said Jim Bowen, with a smile, in which lurked a suspicion +of a sneer. "Thee may say what thee likes about the old man, and the +cows, and the cawl, but I know thee, Gethin Owens! Ever since I told +thee what a fine lass Morva Lloyd has grown thee'st been hankering +after Garthowen slopes." + +There was a general laugh, in which Gethin joined good-humouredly, +standing and stretching himself with a yawn. The evening sun fell full +upon him, showing a form of sinewy strength, and a handsome manly face. +His dark skin and the small gold rings in his ears, so much affected by +Welsh sailors, gave him a foreign look, which rather added to the +attractiveness of his personal appearance. + +When the tea had been partaken of, with a running accompaniment of +broad jokes and loud laughter, the three sailors went out, leaving +Gethin still sitting on the settle. This was Mrs. Parry's hour of +peace--when her consumptive son came home from his loitering in the +sunshine to join her at her own quiet "cup of tea," while her rough +husband was still engaged amongst the shipping in the docks. + +"Well, what'll I say to Nani Graig?" said Gethin. + +"Oh, poor mother, my love, and tell her if it wasn't for my boy Tom I'd +soon be home with her again, for I'll never live with John Parry when +my boy is gone." + +"He's not going for many a long year," said Gethin, slapping the boy on +the back, his more sensitive nature shrinking from such plain speaking. + +But Tom was used to it, and smiled, shuffling uneasily under the slap. + +"What you got bulging out in your bag like that?" he asked. + +"Oh, presents for them at Garthowen; will I show them to you?" said the +sailor awkwardly, as he untied the mouth of the canvas bag. "Here's a +tie for my father, and a hymn-book for Ann, and here's a knife for +Will, and a pocket-book for Gwilym Morris, the preacher who is lodging +with them. And here," he said, opening a gaily-painted box, "is +something for little Morva," and he gently laid on the table a necklace +of iridescent shells which fell in three graduated rows. + +"Oh! there's pretty!" said Mrs. Parry, and while she held the shining +shells in the red of the sun, again the doorway was darkened by the +entrance of two noisy, gaudily-dressed girls, who came flouncing up to +the table. + +"Hello! Bella Lewis and Polly Jones, is it you? Where you come from +so early?" said Mrs. Parry. + +"Come to see me, of course!" suggested the sailor. + +"Come to see you and stop you going," said one of the girls. "Gethin +Owens, you _are_ more of a skulk than I took you for, though you are +rather shirky in your ways, if this is true what I hear about you." + +"What?" said Gethin, replacing the necklace in the box. + +"That you are going home for good, going to turn farmer and say +good-bye to the shipping and the docks." And as she spoke she laid her +hand on the box which Gethin was closing, and drew out its contents. +There was a greedy glitter in her bold eyes as she asked, "Who's that +for?" and she clasped it round her own neck, while Gethin's dark face +flushed. + +"Couldn't look better than there," he answered gallantly, "so you keep +it, to remember me," and tying up his canvas bag he bade them all a +hurried good-bye. + +Mrs. Parry followed him to the doorway with regretful farewells, for +she was losing a friend who had not only paid her well, but had been +kind to her delicate boy, and whose strong fist had often decided in +her favour a fight with her brutal husband. + +"There you now," she said, in a confidential whisper and with a nudge +on Gethin's canvas bag, "there you are now; fool that you are! giving +such a thing as that to Bella Lewis! What did you pay for it, Gethin? +Shall I have it if I can get it from her? Why did you give it to her? +you said 'twas for little Morva--" + +"Yes, it was," he said; "but d'ye think, woman, I would give it to +Morva after being on Bella Lewis's neck? No! that's why I am running +away in such a hurry, to buy her another, d'ye see, and Dei anwl, I +must make haste or else I'll be late on board. Good-bye, good-bye." + +Mrs. Parry looked after him almost tenderly, but called out once more: + +"Shall I have it if I can get it?" + +"Yes, yes," shouted Gethin in return, and as he made his way through +the grimy, unsavoury street, he chuckled as he pictured the impending +scrimmage. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"GARTHOWEN" + +Along the slope of a bare brown hill, which turned one scarped +precipitous side to the sea, and the other, more smooth and undulating, +towards a fair scene of inland beauty, straggled the little hamlet of +Pont-y-fro. Jos Hughes's shop was the very last house in the village, +the road beyond it merging into the rushy moor, and dwindling into a +stony track, down which a streamlet trickled from the peat bog above. +The house had stood in the same place for two hundred years, and Jos +Hughes looked as if he too had lived there for the same length of time. +His quaintly cut blue cloth coat adorned with large brass buttons, his +knee breeches of corduroy, and grey blue stockings, looking well in +keeping with his dwelling, but very out of place behind a counter. His +brown wrinkled face and ruddy cheeks were like a shrivelled apple, his +shrewd inquisitive eyes peered out through a pair of large brass-rimmed +spectacles, and, to judge by his expression, the view they got of the +world in general was not satisfactory. + +It was a day of brilliant sunshine and intense heat, but through the +open shop door the sea wind came in with refreshing coolness. Behind +the counter Jos Hughes measured and weighed lazily, throwing in with +his short weight a compliment, or a screw of peppermints, as the case +required. + +"Who is this coming up in the dust?" he mumbled. + +"'Tis Morva of the moor," said a woman standing in the doorway and +shading her eyes with her hand. "What does she want, I wonder? +There's a merry lass she is!" + +"Oh! day or night, sun or snow don't matter to her," said Jos Hughes. + +At this moment the subject of their remarks entered the shop, and, +sitting on a sack of maize, let her arms fall on her lap. She was +quickly followed by a large black sheep dog, who bounded in and, +placing his fore-paws on the counter, with tongue hanging out, looked +at Jos Hughes intently. + +"Down, Tudor!" said the girl, and he sprang on a sack of peas beside +her. + +The mountain wind blowing in through the open doorway touzled the +little curls that were so unruly in Morva's hair; it was neither gold +nor ebony, but, looking at its rich tints, one was irresistibly +reminded of the ripe corn in harvest fields, while the blue eyes were +like the corn flowers in their vivid colouring. + +"How are they at Garthowen?" asked Fani "bakkare." + +"Oh! they are all well there," answered the girl, panting and fanning +herself with her sun-bonnet, "except the white calf, and he is better." + +"There's hot it is!" said Fani, taking up her basket of groceries. + +"Oh! 'tis hot!" said the girl, "but there's a lovely wind from the sea." + +"What are you wanting to-day, Morva?" said Jos. + +"A ball of red worsted for Ann, and an ounce of 'bacco for 'n'wncwl +Ebben, and oh! a ha'porth of sweets for Tudor." + +The dog wagged his tail approvingly as Jos reached down from the shelf +a bottle of pink lollipops, for, though a wild country dog, he had +depraved tastes in the matter of sweets. + +"There's serious you all look! what's the matter with you?" said the +girl, looking smilingly round. + +"Nothing is the matter as I know," said Fani, "only there's always +plenty of trouble flying about. We can't be all so free from care as +you, always laughing or singing or something." + +"Indeed I wish we could," said Madlen, a pale girl who was bending over +a box of knitting pins, looking round curiously and rather sadly; "I +wish the whole world could be like you, Morva." + +Morva snatched the girl's listless hand in her own warm firm grasp, and +pressed it sympathetically, for she knew Madlen's secret sorrow. + +"Wait another year or two," said Fani, "we'll talk to you then! Wait +till your husband comes home drunk from 'The Black Horse!'" + +"And wait till you put all your money into a shop and then find it +doesn't pay you," said Jos. + +Madlen said nothing, but Morva knew that in her heart she was thinking, +"Wait until your lover proves false to you!" and she gave her hand +another squeeze. + +"Well, indeed!" she said springing up, "what are you all talking about? +I won't put all my money in a shop, and I won't marry a drunkard! +Sixpence, is it? I am going home over the bog and round the hill, but +I am going to sit on the bench outside a bit first. There's lots of +swallows' nests under your eaves, Jos Hughes; that brings good luck, +they say, so your shop ought to pay you well." + +So saying she passed out, and sitting on the bench round the corner of +the house she kissed her hand toward the swallows, who flitted in and +out of their nests, twittering ecstatically. + +"Hark to her," said Fani, "singing again, if you please--always +light-hearted! always happy! I don't think its quite right, Jos bāch, +do you? You are a deacon at Penmorien and you ought to know. If it +was a hymn now! but you hear it's all nonsense about the swallows. Ach +y fi! she is learning them from Sara ''spridion';[1] some song of the +'old fathers' in past times!" + +"Yes," said Jos, sanctimoniously clasping his stubby fingers, "I'm +afraid the girl is a bit of a heathen. What wonder is it? Nursed by +Sara--always out with the cows or the sheep, and they say she thinks +nothing of sleeping under a hedge, or out on the slopes, if any animal +is sick and wants watching." + +Fani went out with a toss of her head, as the sweet voice came in +through the little side window with the twittering of the swallows and +the cluck, cluck of a happy brood hen. + +Outside, Morva had forgotten all about Jos Hughes and Fani "bakkare's" +sour looks, and was singing her heart out to the sunshine. + +"Sing on, little swallows," she said, "and I'll sing too. Sara taught +me the 'bird song' long ago when I was a baby." + +And in a clear, sweet voice she joined the birds, and woke the echoes +from the brown cliffs. The tune was quaint and rapid; both it and the +words had come down to her with the old folklore of generations passed +away. + + "Over the sea from the end of the wide world + I've come without wetting my feet, my feet, my feet, + Back to the old home, straight to the nest-home, + Under the brown thatch, oh sweet! oh sweet! oh sweet! + + "When over the waters I flew in the autumn, + Then there was plenty of seed, of seed, of seed. + Women have winnow'd it, threshers have garner'd it, + Barns must be filled up indeed, indeed, indeed! + + "Are you glad we have come with a flitter and twitter + Once more on the housetop to meet, to meet, to meet? + Make haste little primroses, cowslips, and daisies, we're + Longing your faces to greet, to greet, to greet!" + + --_Trans._ + + +"Yes, that's what you are singing. Good-bye," and waving her hand +towards them again, she turned her face to the boggy moor, picking her +way over the stepping-stones which led up to the dryer sheep paths. + +The golden marsh marigolds glittered around her, the beautiful bog bean +hung its pinky white fringe over the brown peat pools, the silky plumes +of the cotton grass nodded at her as she passed, and the wind whispered +in the rushes the secrets of the sea. + +Morva listened with a smile, a brown finger up-raised. "Yes, yes, I +know what you are singing too down there in the rushes, sweet west +wind," she said. "Sara has told me, but I haven't time to sing the +'wind song' to-day," and reaching the sheep path which led round the +mountain, she sped against the wind, her hair streaming behind her, her +blue skirt fluttering in the breeze, the ball of scarlet worsted and +the shining 'bacco box held high in either hand to steady her flying +footsteps, Tudor barking with joy as he bounded after her and twitched +at her fluttering skirts. + +It was tea-time when she reached Garthowen, and, winter or summer, that +was always the pleasantest hour at the farmstead, when the air was +filled with the aroma of the hot tea, and the laughter and talk of the +household. On the settle in the cosy chimney corner sat Ebben Owens +himself, the head of the family and the centre of interest to every +member of it. He possessed that doubtful advantage, the power of +attracting to himself the affection and friendship of everyone who came +in contact with him; his children idolised him, and Morva was no whit +behind them in her affection for him. In spite of his long grizzled +locks, and a slight stoop, he was still a hale and hearty yeoman under +his seventy years. His cheeks bore the ruddy hue of health, his eyes +were still bright and clear, the lines of his mouth expressed a gentle +and sensitive nature. It was by no means a strong face, but its very +weakness perhaps accounted for the protecting tenderness shown to him +by all his family. As he sat there in the shadow of the settle it was +easy to understand why his children were so devotedly attached to him, +and why he bore the reputation of being the kindest and most +good-natured man in Pont-y-fro and its neighbourhood. Ann, his only +daughter, was looking smilingly at him from the head of the table, her +smooth brown hair parted over her madonna-like brows, her brown eyes +full of laughter. Opposite to her, at the bottom of the table, sat +Gwilym Morris, preacher at the Calvinistic Methodist chapel, down in +the valley by the shore. He had lived at Garthowen for many years as +one of the family, being the son of an old friend of Ebben Owens. +Having a small--very small--income of his own, he was able to devote +his services to the chapel in the valley, expecting and receiving +nothing in return but a pittance, for which no other minister would +have been willing to work. He was a dark, pale man, of earnest and +studious appearance, of quiet manners, and rather silent, but often +seeking the liquid brown eyes which lighted up Ann's gentle face. + +"Tis the only time father is cross when he has lost his 'bacco box," +said Ann, laughing; "but then he is as cross as two sticks." + +"Lol! lol!" said the old man snappishly, "give me a cup of tea; but I +can't think where my 'bacco box is. I swear I left it here on the +table." + +Gwilym Morris hunted about in the most unlikely places, as men +generally do--on the tea tray, between the leaves of some newspapers +which stood on the deep window-sill. He was about to open Ann's +work-bag in search of it, when Morva entered panting, and placed the +shining box and ball of red wool on the table. + +"Good, my daughter," said Ebben Owens, pocketing his new-found +treasure, and regaining his good temper at once. + +"I saw it was empty, so I took it with me to Jos Hughes's shop," she +said. + +Soon afterwards, seated on her milking stool, she was singing to the +rhythm of the milk as it streamed into the frothing pail, for Daisy +refused to yield her milk without a musical accompaniment. Very soft +and low was the girl's singing, but clear and sweet as that of the +thrush on the thorn bush behind her. + + "Give me my little milking pail, + For under the hawthorn in the vale + The cows are gathering one by one, + They know the time by the westering sun. + Troodi, Troodi! come down from the mountain, + Troodi, Troodi! come up from the dale; + Moelen, and Corwen, and Blodwen, and Trodwen! + I'll meet you all with my milking pail." + + +So sang the girl, and the lilting tune caught the ears of a youth who +was just entering the farmyard. He knew it at once. It was a snatch +of Morva's simple milking song. He stopped to pat Daisy's broad +forehead, and Morva looked up with a smile. + +"Make haste," she said, "or tea will be finished. Where have you been +so late?" + +"Thou'll be surprised when I tell thee," said the young man; but before +he had time for further conversation, Ann's voice called him from the +kitchen window, and he hurried away unceremoniously. + +Morva continued her song, for Daisy wanted nothing new, but was +contented with the old stave which she had known from calfhood. + +Will Owens, arriving in the farm kitchen, had evidently been eagerly +awaited. Both Ann and Gwilym Morris came forward to meet him, and +Ebben Owens rubbed his hands nervously over his corduroy knees. + +"Well?" said all three together. + +"Well!" echoed Will, flinging his hat across to the window-sill. "It's +all right. I met Price the vicar coming down the street, so I touched +my hat to him, and he saw at once that I wanted to speak to him, and +there's kind he was. 'How's your father?' he said, 'and Miss Ann, is +she well? I must come up and see them soon.'" + +"Look you there now," said his father. + +"'They will be very glad to see you sir,' I said, but I didn't know how +to tell him what I wanted. + +"'I am very glad to hear how well you get on with your books,' he said; +'but 'tisn't every young man has Gwilym Morris to help him and to teach +him.' And then, you see, when he made a beginning, 'twas easier for me +to explain." + +The preacher's pale face lighted up with a smile of pleasure, and Ann +flushed with gratified pride as Will continued. + +"'He is a man in a hundred,' said Mr. Price, 'and 'tis a pity that his +talents are wasted on a Methodist Chapel. I wish I could persuade him +to enter the Church.' + +"'Well, you'll never do that,' I said. 'You might as well try to turn +the course of the On. He won't come himself, but he is sending a very +poor substitute to you, sir.' + +"'And who is that? You?' said Mr. Price. + +"'Well, sir, that is what I wanted to see you about. You know that +although we are Methodists bred and born, both my grandfather and my +great-grandfather had a son in the Church,' and with that he took hold +of my two hands. + +"'And your father is going to follow their good example? I _am_ glad!' +and he shook my hands so warmly." + +"There for you now!" said Ebben Owens. + +"'I will do all I can for you,' Mr. Price said, 'and I'm sure your +uncle will help you.' + +"'Oh!' said I, 'if my father will send me to the Church, sir, it will +be without pressing upon anyone else for money,' for I wasn't going to +let him think we couldn't afford it." + +"Right, my boy," said Ebben Owens, standing up in his excitement; "and +what then?" + +"Oh! then he asked me when did I think of entering college; and I said, +'Next term, sir, if I can pass.' + +"'No fear of that,' he said again, 'with Gwilym Morris at your elbow.' +But I'm choking, Ann; give me a cup of tea, da chi.[2] I'll finish +afterwards." + +"That's all, I should think," said the preacher; "you've got on pretty +far for a first interview." + +"I got a little further, though," said Will. "What do you think, +father, he has asked me to do?" + +"What?" said the old man breathlessly. + +"He asked would I read the lessons in church next Sunday week. +''Twould be a good beginning,' he said; 'and tell your father and Miss +Ann they must come and hear you.' + +"'Well,' I said, 'my father hasn't been inside a church for years, and +I don't know whether he will come.'" + +"Well, of course," said the old man eagerly, "I will come to hear you, +my boy, and Ann--" + +"Not I, indeed," said Ann, with a toss of her head, "there will be a +sermon in my own chapel." + +"But it will be over before eleven, Ann, and I don't see why you +shouldn't go if you wish to," said Gwilym Morris. + +"I don't wish to," she answered, turning to the tea-table, and pouring +out her brother's tea. + +She was a typical Welsh woman, of highly-strung nervous temperament, +though placid in outward appearance and manners, unselfish even to +self-effacement where her kindred were concerned, but wary and +suspicious beyond the pale of relationship or love; a zealous +religionist, but narrow and bigoted in the extreme. In his heart of +hearts Ebben Owens also hated the Church. Dissent had been the +atmosphere in which his ancestors had lived and breathed, but in his +case pride had struggled with prejudice, and had conquered. For three +generations a son had gone forth from Garthowen to the enemy's Church, +and had won there distinction and riches. True, their career had +withdrawn them entirely from the old simple home circle, but this did +not deter Ebben Owens from desiring strongly to emulate his ancestors. +Why should not Will, the clever one of the family, his favourite +son--who had "topped" all the boys at the village school, and had taken +so many prizes in the grammar school at Caer-Madoc--why should not he +gain distinction and preferment in the Church, and shed fresh lustre on +the fading name of "Owens of Garthowen," for the name had lost its +ancient prestige in the countryside? In early time theirs had been a +family of importance, as witness the old deeds in the tin box on the +attic rafters, but for two hundred years they had been simple farmers. +They had never been a thrifty race, and the broad lands which tradition +said once belonged to them had been sold from time to time, until +nothing remained but the old farm with its hundred acres of mountain +land. Ebben Owens never troubled his head, however, about the past +glories of his race. He inherited the "happy-go-lucky," +unbusiness-like temperament which had probably been the cause of his +ancestors' misfortunes, but Will's evident love of learning had aroused +in the old man a strong wish to remind the world that the "Owens of +Garthowen" still lived, and could push themselves to the front if they +wished. + +As Will drank his tea and cleared plate after plate of bread and +butter, his father looked at him with a tender, admiring gaze. Will +had always been his favourite. Gethin, the eldest son, had never taken +hold of his affections; he had been the mother's favourite, and after +her death had drifted further and further out of his father's good +graces. The boy's nature was a complete contrast to that of his own +and second son, for Gethin was bold and daring, while they were wary +and secret; he was restless and mischievous, while his brother was +quiet and sedate; he was constantly getting into scrapes, while Will +always managed to steer clear of censure. Gethin hated his books too, +and, worse than all, he paid but scant regard to the services in the +chapel, which held such an important place in the estimation of the +rest of the household. More than once Ebben Owens, walking with proper +decorum to chapel on Sunday morning, accompanied by Will and Ann, had +been scandalised at meeting Gethin returning from a surreptitious +scramble on the hillside, with a row of blue eggs strung on a stalk of +grass. A hasty rush into the house to dress, a pell-mell run down the +mountain side, a flurried arrival in the chapel, where Will and his +father had already hung up their hats on the rail at the back of their +seat, did not tend to mitigate the old man's annoyance at his son's +erratic ways. + +Gethin was the cause of continual disturbances in the household, +culminating at last in a severer thrashing than usual, and a dismissal +from the home of his childhood--a dismissal spoken in anger, which +would have been repented of ere night had not the boy, exasperated at +his utter inability to rule his wild and roving habits, taken his +father at his word and disappeared from the old homestead. + +"Let him go," Ebben Owens had said to the tearful pleading Ann. "Let +him go, child; it will do him good if he can't behave himself at home. +Let him go, like many another rascal, and find out whether cold and +hunger and starvation will suit him. Let him feel a pinch or two, and +he'll soon come home again, and then perhaps he'll have come to his +senses and give us less trouble here." + +Ann had cried her eyes red for days, and Will had silently grieved over +the loss of his brother, but he had been prudent, and had said nothing +to increase his father's anger, so the days slipped by and Gethin never +returned. + +His father, relenting somewhat (for he seldom remained long in the same +frame of mind), made inquiries of the sea-faring men who visited the +neighbouring coast villages, and learning from them that Gethin had +been taken as cabin boy by an old friend of his, whom he knew to be of +a kindly disposition, felt quite satisfied concerning his son's safety, +and congratulated himself upon the result of his own firmness. + +"There's the very thing for him," he thought; "'twill make a man of +him, and 'tis time he should be brought to his senses! and he won't be +so ready with his 'Amens!' again. Ach y fi!" + +From time to time as the years sped on, news of Gethin came in a +roundabout way to the farm, and at last a letter from some foreign +port, from which it was evident that the youth, now growing up to +manhood, still retained his bright sunny nature and laughter-loving +ways, together with the warmth of heart which had always distinguished +the troublesome Gethin. There was no allusion to the past, no begging +for forgiveness, no hint of a wish to return home. His father seldom +looked at the lad's letters, but flung them to Will to be read, the +quarrel between him and his son, instead of dwindling into +forgetfulness, seeming to grow and widen in his mind with each +succeeding year, as trifling disagreements frequently do in weak but +obstinate natures. + +"Gethin will be an honour to us yet," Ann would say sometimes. + +"Honour indeed!" the old man would answer, with a red spot on each +cheek, which always denoted his rising anger. "What honour? A common +sailor lounging about from one foreign port to another! 'Tis stopping +at home he ought to be, and helping his old father with the farming. +If Will is going to be a clergyman I will want somebody to help me with +the work." + +"Well, I'm sure he would come, father, and glad too, if he knew that +you were wanting him." + +"Oh, I don't want him. Let him come when he likes; that's fair enough." + +But Gethin still roamed, and latterly nothing had been heard of him, no +letters and no news. 'Tis true, a dim and hazy report had reached +Garthowen from some sailor in the village "that Gethin Owens was +getting on 'splendid,' that he was steady and saving." Ann had flushed +with pleasure, but the old man had laughed scornfully, saying, "Well, +I'll believe that when I see it--Gethin steady and saving!" And even +Will had joined in the laugh, but Gwilym Morris looked vexed and +serious. + +"I think, indeed, you are too hard upon that poor fellow,", he said; +"he may return to you some day like the prodigal son. Don't forget +that, Ebben Owens--" + +"Oh, I don't forget that," said the old man; "and when he comes home in +the same temper as the son we read of, then we'll kill for him the +fatted calf." + +"Well, I'd like to know what did he do whatever?" said a girlish voice +from behind the settle, where Morva Lloyd (who was shepherdess, +cowherd, milkmaid, all in one), was drying her hands on a jack-towel; +"what did Gethin do so very bad?" + +"Look in his mother's Bible," said the old man, "and you'll see his +last sin." + +"I've put it away," said Ann. "Twas too wicked to leave about; but he +was very young, father, and Gwilym says--" + +"Oh! Gwilym," said her father, "has an excuse for everyone's faults +except his own; for thine especially." + +There was a general laugh, during which Morva made up her mind to hunt +up the old Bible. + +"I hope," said Ann, addressing Will, when he had come to an end of his +tea, "you told Price the vicar that Gwilym did not spend evening after +evening here helping you on with your studies, _knowing_ that you were +going to be a clergyman?" + +"No, I didn't tell him that, but I can tell him some other time," +answered Will, who would have promised anything in his desire to +propitiate Ann and his father, and to gain their consent to his +entering Llaniago College at the beginning of the next term. + +"I'll tell him if he comes here," said Ann. "I wouldn't have him think +that Gwilym Morris, the Methodist minister, spent his time in teaching +a parson." + +"Well," said the preacher, who was standing at the old glass bookcase +looking for a book, "you certainly did spring the news very suddenly +upon me, Will; you kept your secret very close; but still, Ann, it +makes no difference. I would have done anything for your brother, and +I'm glad, whatever his course may be, that I have been able to impart +to him a little knowledge." + +"Look you here now," said the old man, shuffling uneasily, for there +was a secret consciousness between him and his son that they had +wilfully kept Gwilym Morris in the dark as long as possible, fearing +lest his dissenting principles might prevent the accomplishment of +their wishes, "look you here now, Will, October is very near, and it +means money, my boy, and that's not gathered so easy as blackberries +about here; you must wait until Christmas, and you shall go to Llaniago +in the New Year, but I can't afford it now." + +Will's handsome face flushed to the roots of his hair, his blue eyes +sparkled with anger, and the clear-cut mouth took a petulant curve as +he answered, rising hastily from the tea-table: + +"Why didn't you tell me that sooner, instead of letting me go and speak +to Mr. Price? You have made a fool of me!" And he went out, banging +the door after him. + +There was a moment's silence. + +"Will's temper is not improving," said Ann at last. + +"Poor boy," said the indulgent father, "'tis disappointed he is; but it +won't be long to wait till January." + +"But, father," said Ann, "there is the 80 pounds you got for the two +ricks? You put that into the bank safe, didn't you?" + +"Yes, yes, yes, quite safe, 'merch i. Don't you bother your head about +things that don't concern you," and he too went out, leaving Ann +drumming with her fingers on the tea-tray. + +Her father's manner awoke some uneasiness in her mind, for long +experience had taught her that money had a way of slipping through his +hands ere ever it reached the wants of the household. + +"I went with him to the bank," said Gwilym Morris reassuringly, "and +saw him put it in," and Ann was satisfied. + +Under her skilful management, in spite of their dwindled means, +Garthowen was always a home of plenty. The produce of the farm was +exchanged at the village shops for the simple necessaries of domestic +life. The sheep on their own pasture lands yielded wool in abundance +for their home-spun clothing, the flitches of bacon that garnished the +rafters provided ample flavouring for the cawl, and for the rest Will +and Gwilym's fishing and shooting brought in sufficient variety for the +simple tastes of the family. Indeed, there was only one thing that was +not abundant at Garthowen, and that was--ready money! + + + +[1] Spirit Sara. + +[2] Do. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MORVA OF THE MOOR + +When Will had reached the door of the farm kitchen in a fume of hot +temper, the cool sea breeze coming up the valley had bathed his flushed +face with so soothing an influence that he had turned towards it and +wandered away to the cliffs which made the seaward boundary of the +farm. A craggy hill on the opposite side of the valley cast its +lengthening shadow on his path until he reached the Cribserth, a ridge +of rocks which ran down the mountain side on the Garthowen land. It +rose abruptly from the mountain pasturage, as though some monster of +the early world were struggling to rise once more from its burial of +ages, succeeding only in erecting its rugged spine and crest through +the green sward. This ridge marked a curious division of the country, +for on one side of it lay all the signs of cultivation of which this +wind-swept parish could boast. Here were villages, fertile fields, and +wooded valleys; but beyond the rugged escarpment all was different. +For miles the seaward side of the hills was wild and bare, except for +the soft velvet turf, interspersed with gorse and heather, which +stretched up the steep slopes, covering and softening every rough +outline. Even Will, as he rounded the ridge, recovered his equanimity, +and his face lighted up with pleasure at the sight which met his view. +Down below glistened a sea of burnished gold, with tints and shades of +purple grey; above stretched a sky of still more glowing colours; and +landward, rising to the blue of the zenith, the rugged moorland was +covered with a mantle of heath and gorse, which shone in the evening +sun in a rich mingling of gold and purple. + +"What a glorious evening!" were Will's first thoughts. The birds sang +around him, the sea lisped its soft whispers on the sea below, the song +of a fisherman out on the bay came up on the breeze, the rabbits +scudded across his path, and the seagulls floated slowly above him. +All the sullenness went out of his face, giving way to a look of +pleased surprise, as out of the carpet of gorgeous colouring spread +before him rose suddenly the vision of a girl. It was Morva who came +towards him, her hair glistening in the sunshine, her blue eyes dancing +with the light of health and happiness. Behind a rising knoll stood +her foster-mother's cottage, almost hidden by the surrounding gorse and +heather, for, according to the old Welsh custom, it had been built in a +hollow scooped out behind a natural elevation, which protected it from +the strong sea wind; in fact, there was little of it visible except its +red chimney-pot, from which generally curled the blue smoke of the +furze and dried ferns burning on the bare earthen floor below. + +Turning round the pathway to the front of the house, one came upon its +whitewashed walls, the low worm-eaten door deep set in its crooked +lintels, and its two tiny windows, looking out on the sunny garden, +every inch of which was neatly and carefully cultivated by Morva's own +hands; for she would not allow her "little mother" to tire herself with +hard work in house or garden. To her foster-child it was a labour of +love. In the early morning hours before milking time at the farm, or +in the grey of the twilight, Morva was free to work in her own garden, +while Sara only tended her herb bed. There at the further end was the +potato bed in purple flower, here were rows of broad beans, in which +the bees were humming, attracted by their sweet aroma that filled the +evening air; there was the leek bed waving its grey green blades, and +here, in the sunniest corner of all, was Sara's herb bed, which she +tended with special care, whose products were gathered at stated times +of the moon's age, not without serious thought and many consultations +of an old herbal, brown with age, which always rested with her Bible +and Williams "Pantycelyn's" hymns above the lintel of the door. For +nearly seventeen years this had been Morva's home, ever since the +memorable night of wind and storm which had wrecked the good ship +_Penelope_ on her voyage home from Australia. She had reached Milford +safely a week before, after a prosperous voyage, and having landed some +of her passengers, was making her further way towards Liverpool, her +final destination. It was late autumn, and suddenly a storm arose +which drove her out of her course, until on the Cardiganshire coast she +had become a total wreck. In the darkness and storm, where the foaming +waves leapt up to the black sky, the wild wind had battered her, and +the cruel waves had torn her asunder, and engulphed her in their +relentless depths; and when all was over, a few bubbles on the face of +the water, a few planks tossed about by the waves, were all the signs +left of the _Penelope_. The cottagers on the rugged coast never forgot +that stormy night, when the roofs were uplifted from the houses, when +gates were wrenched from their hinges, when the shrieking wind had torn +the frightened sheep from their fold, and carried them over hedges and +hillocks. There had never been such a storm in the memory of the +oldest inhabitant, and when in the foam and the spray, Stiven "Storrom" +had raked out from the debris washed on to the shore a hencoop, on +which was bound a tiny baby, sodden and cold, but still alive, every +one of the small crowd gathered on the beach below Garthowen slopes, +considered he had added a fresh claim to his name--a name which he had +gained by his frequent raids upon the fierce storms, and the harvest +which he had gathered from their fury. That baby had found open arms +and tender hearts ready to succour it, and when Sara "'spridion" had +stretched imploring hands towards it, reminding the onlookers of her +recent bereavement, it was handed over to her fostering care. "Give it +to me," she said, "my heart is empty; it will not fill up the void, but +it will help me to bear it. There are other reasons," she added, "good +reasons." She had carried it home triumphantly, and little Morva had +never after missed a mother's love and tenderness. The seventeen years +that followed had glided happily over her head; in fact she was so +perfect an embodiment of health and happiness, that she sometimes +excited the envy of the somewhat sombre dwellers on those lonely +hillsides; and when in the golden sunset, she suddenly rose from the +gorse bloom to greet Will's sight, she had never appeared brighter or +more brimful of joy. + +"Well, indeed," said Will, casting a furtive glance behind him, to make +sure that no one from Garthowen was following in his footsteps, "Morva, +lass, where hast come from? I will begin to think thou art one of the +spirits thy mother says she sees. I thought thee wast busy in the +dairy at home!" + +Morva laughed merrily. + +"I had some milk to bring home, and Ann sent me early to help mother a +bit. I was going now to gather dry furze and bracken to boil the +porridge. Will you come and have supper with us, Will?" + +"I have just had my tea," he said, "and a supper of bitter herbs into +the bargain, for my father angered me by something he said. He is +changeable as the wind, and I was roaming over here to seek for +calmness from the sea wind, and perhaps a talk with Sara." + +"Yes, come! She is in the herb garden gathering her bear's claws and +rue; 'tis the proper time for them. But first we must cut the bracken." + +Will took her sickle and soon cut a pile of the dry brittle fuel, +binding it with a rope which she carried; and turning towards the +cottage, they dragged it behind them. + +"You go and seek mother," said Morva, "while I go and boil the +porridge." + +And in the garden Will found Sara stooping over her herb bed, and +deeply intent upon her task. + +The sun was setting now, and threw its ruddy beams upon the sunny +corner, and upon the aged face and figure of the old woman. + +"Well, 'machgen i," she said, straightening herself. "What is it?" + +"Oh, nothing," said Will; "only, roaming about the moor, I came in to +see you, and Morva has asked me to have supper with you--you are +gathering your herbs?" + +"Yes, 'tis time to dry them and hang them up under the rafters; if they +will save one human being from pain 'twill be a good thing. Last night +Mari Lewis came to ask me for something for her boy; I gave it to her, +but she never came to tell me whether it had done him any good," and +she smiled as she led the way back to the cottage carrying her bunches +of herbs. + +"Was it Dan?" asked Will. + +"Yes." + +"Then he is well, for I saw him ploughing this evening." + +"That's better than thanks," said the old woman, entering the dark +cottage, where Morva was stirring a crock which hung on a chain from +the open chimney, the furze and bracken flaming and crackling beneath +it and lighting up her beautiful face. Once in the cottage, Sara sat +down on the old oak settle and waited for her supper, her herbs lying +in a green heap on the floor beside her. The square of scarlet +flannel, which she always wore pinned on her shoulders, made a bit of +bright colour in the gloom, her wrinkled hands were clasped on her lap, +and a far-away look came into her wonderful dark eyes. + +Morva looked up from her work. + +"Are you seeing anything, mother?" + +"No, no, child, nothing. Make haste with the supper," said Sara. + +And when Morva had divided the porridge in the three shining black +bowls, they drew round the bare oak table, on which the red of the +setting sun made a flickering pattern of the mallow bush growing on the +garden hedge. They talked about the farm work, the fishing, the lime +burning, the fate of the _Lapwing_, which had sailed in the autumn and +had never returned, until, when supper was over, Will rose to go with a +stretch and a yawn. + +"Ann wants me to give the white calf his medicine to-night, mother," +said Morva. + +"Wilt come with me now?" said Will, "for I am going." + +"Yes, go," said the old woman, "go together." + +But as the two young people went out under the low doorway she looked +after them pensively, and remained long looking up at the evening sky, +which the open door revealed. At last she tied up her herbs and began +washing her bowls, and while engaged at her work she sang. Her voice +had the pathetic tremble of old age, but was still true and musical, +for she had once been a singer among singers, and the song that she +sang--who shall describe it? from what old stores of memory did it come +to light? from what old wells of ancient folklore and tradition did it +spring? But Sara was full of songs and hymns--of the simplest and +oldest--of the rocky path--of the golden summit--of the angelic +host--of the cloud of witnesses--but of the more modern hymns of church +festivals or chapel revivals, of creeds and shibboleths, she knew +nothing! + +Outside on the heath and gorse Will and Morva made their way along the +narrow sheep paths, until, reaching the green sward where two could +walk abreast, he drew nearer, and passing his arm round her shoulders, +turned her gently towards the side of the cliff, where jutting crags +and stunted thorns made "sheltered nooks for lovers' seats." + +"Come, sit down here, Morva," he said; "all day I have wanted to talk +to thee. Dost know what kept me so long at Castell On to-day? Dost +know what grand thing is opening out before me? Dost know, lass, the +time is coming when I will be able to put rings on thy fingers, and +silken scarves on thy shoulders, and pretty shoes on thy little feet?" + +Morva's lips parted, disclosing two rows of pearly teeth, as she stared +in astonishment at her companion. + +"Oh, Will, lad, what is the matter with thee? Hast lost thy senses? +We mustn't be long or Ann will be waiting." + +"Oh, Ann!" said Will pettishly, "let her wait; listen thou. I am going +to finish with them all before long; I am not going to plod on here on +the farm any longer; I am going to college, lass; I am going to pass my +examination and be a clergyman, like Mr. Price, or like that young +curate who was stopping with him a month ago. Didst see him, Morva? +Such a gentleman! dressed so grand, and went from town in the Nantmyny +carriage." + +Morva was still speechless. + +"Oh, anwl! what art talking about, Will?" she said at last. + +"Truth, Morva; I will be like that young man before long, and when I +have a home ready I will send for thee; thou shalt come secretly to +meet me in some large town where no one will know us. I will have a +silken gown ready for thee, and we will be married, and thou shalt be a +real lady." + +Morva's only answer was a peal of laughter, which reached over moor and +crag and down to the sandy beach below. + +"Oh, Will, Will!" she gasped, with her hand on her side, "now indeed +thy senses are roaming. Morva Lloyd in velvet shoes and silken gowns, +and Will Owens with flapping coat tails like Mr. Price, and one of +those ugly shining hats that the gentlemen wear! Oh, Will, Will! +there's funny indeed!" and she laughed again until she woke the echoes +from the cliffs. + +"Hush-sh-sh!" said Will, a good deal nettled, "or laugh at thyself if +thou wilt, but not at me, for I tell thee that's how thou'lt see me +very soon." + +"Well, indeed, then," said the girl, "when thou tak'st that path thou +must say 'good-bye' to Morva Lloyd, for such things will never suit +her." + +"I tell thee, girl," said Will, taking both her hands in his, "thou +must come with me. I will follow that path--I feel I must, and I feel +it will lead to riches and honour, but I feel, too, that I can never +live without thee; thou must come with me, Morva. What is in the +future for me must be for thee too! dost hear?" + +"Yes, I hear," said the girl, with a gasp. + +"Dost remember thy promise, Morva? When we were children together, and +sat here watching the stars, didn't I hold thy little finger and point +it up to the North Star and make thee promise to marry me? And if thou +art going to change thy mind, 'twill break my heart," and his mouth +took a sad, pathetic curve. + +"But I am not going to change. I remember the star which I pointed to +when I promised to marry thee. 'Twill be up there by and by when the +light is gone, for it is always there, though the others move about." + +"Yes, 'tis the North Star, and the English have a saying, 'As true as +the North Star'--that's what thou must be to me, Morva." + +"Yes, indeed. The English are very wise people. But after all, Will, +I must laugh when I think of a clergyman marrying a shepherdess. Oh! +Will, Will!" added the girl more seriously and in a deprecating tone, +"thou art talking nonsense. Think it over for a day or two, and then +we'll talk about it. I cannot stay longer--Ann will be angry." + +And slipping out of his grasp, she ran with light footsteps over the +soft turf, Will looking after her bewildered and troubled, until she +disappeared round the edge of the ridge; then he rose slowly, picked up +his book, and followed her with slow steps and an anxious look on his +handsome face. He was tall and well grown, like every member of the +Garthowen family; his reddish-brown hair so thick above his forehead +that his small cap of country frieze was scarcely required as a +covering for his head; and not even the coarse material of his homespun +suit, or his thick country-made shoes, could hide a certain air of +jaunty distinction, which was a subject of derision amongst the young +lads of his acquaintance, but of which he himself was secretly proud. +From boyhood he had despised the commonplace ways of his rustic home, +and had always aimed at becoming what he called "a gentleman." No +wonder, then, that with his foot, as he thought, on the first rung of +the ladder, he was pensive and serious as he followed Morva homewards. + +Ebben Owens, when he had risen from the tea table, had followed his son +into the farmyard, but finding no trace of him there, his face had +taken a troubled and anxious expression, for Will was the idol of his +soul, the apple of his eye, and a ruffle upon that young man's brow +meant a furrow on the old man's heart. He reproached himself for +having allowed "the boy" to proceed too far with his plans for entering +college before he had suggested that there might be a difficulty in +finding the required funds. After a long reverie, he muttered as he +went to the cowsheds: + +"Well, well, I must manage it somehow. I must ask Davy my brother, to +lend me the money until I have sold those yearlings." + +Not having the moral courage to open his mind to his son, he allowed +the subject to drift on in the dilatory fashion characteristic of his +nation; and as time went on, he began to allude to the coming glories +of Llaniago in a manner which soothed Will's irritation, and made him +think that the old man, on reconsideration, was as usual becoming +reconciled to his son's plans. As a matter of fact, Ebben Owens was +endeavouring to adjust his ideas to those of his son, solving the +difficulties which perplexed him by mentally referring to "Davy my +brother," or "those yearlings." + +Will also took refuge, as a final resource, in the thought of his rich +uncle, the Rev. Dr. Owen, of Llanisderi, who, through marriage with a +wealthy widow, had in a wonderfully short time gained for himself +preferment, riches, and popularity. + +"I will stoop to ask Uncle Davy to help me," he thought, "rather than +put it off;" but he kept his thoughts to himself, hoping still that his +father would relent, for he considered the want of funds was probably a +mere excuse for keeping him longer at home. + +It had been very easy, one day a month earlier, when, sitting in the +barn together, they had talked the matter over, for Ebben Owens to make +any number of plans and promises, for he had just sold two large ricks +of hay, and had placed the price thereof in the bank. He was, +therefore, in a calm and contented frame of mind, and in the humour to +be reckless in the matter of promises. The whole country side knew how +good-natured he was, how ready to help a friend, very often to his own +detriment and that of his family; he was consequently very popular at +fair and market. Everybody brought his troubles to him, especially +money troubles; and although Ebben Owens might at first refuse +assistance, he would generally end by opening his heart and his +pockets, and lending the sum required, sometimes on good security, +sometimes on bad, sometimes on none at all but his creditors' word of +honour, whose value, alas! was apt to rise or fall with the tide of +circumstances. He had many times given his own word of honour to his +anxious daughter, that he would never again lend his money or "go +security" for his neighbours without consulting his family; but over +the first blue of beer, at the first fair or market, he had been unable +to withstand the pleadings of some impecunious friend. Only a week +after he and Will had talked over their plans in the barn, Jos Hughes, +who was his fellow-deacon at Penmorien Chapel, had met him in the +market at Castell On, and had persuaded him to lend him the exact +amount which his ricks had brought him, with many promises of speedy +repayment. + + +"Tis those hard-hearted Saeson,[1] Mr. Owens bāch! They will never +listen to reason, you know," he had argued, "and they are pressing upon +me shocking for payment for the goods I had from them last year; and me +such a good customer, too! I must pay them this week, Mr. Owens bāch, +and you are always so kind, and there is no one else in the parish got +so much money as Garthowen. I will give you good security, and will +pay you week after next, as sure as the sun is shining!" + +It was a plausible tale, and Ebben Owens, as usual, was weak and +yielding. He liked to be considered the "rich man" of the parish, and +to be called "Mr. Owens," so Jos went home with the money in his +pocket, giving in return only his "I. O. U.," and a promise that the +transaction should be carefully kept from Ann's ears, for Ebben Owens +was more afraid of his daughter's gentle reproofs than he had ever been +of his wife's sharp tongue. + + + +[1] English. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE OLD BIBLE + +On the following Sunday, Morva kept house alone at Garthowen, for +everyone else had gone to chapel, except Will, who had walked to +Castell On, which was three miles away up the valley of the On, he +having been of late a frequent attendant at Mr. Price's church. The +vicar was much beloved by all his parishioners, beloved and respected +by high and low, but still his congregation was sparse and uncertain, +so that every new member was quickly noticed and welcomed by him--more +especially any stray sheep from the dissenting fold possessed for him +all the interest of the sheep in the parable, for whose sake the ninety +and nine were left in the wilderness. Will had gone off with a large +prayer book under his arm, determined to take special note of the +Vicar's manner in reading the lessons, for on the following Sunday this +important duty would devolve upon him. + +No one who has not spent a Sunday afternoon in a Methodist household +can really have sounded the depths of dullness; the interminable hours +between the early dinner and the welcome moment when the singing kettle +and the jingling of the tea-things break up the spell of dreariness, +the solemn silence pervading everything, broken only by the persistent +ticking of the old clock on the stairs, Morva had noted them all rather +wearily. Even the fowls in the farmyard seemed to walk about with a +more sober demeanour than usual, but more trying than anything else to +an active girl was the fact that _there was nothing to do_. + +It was a hot blazing summer afternoon; she had paid frequent visits to +the sick calf, which was getting well and mischievous again, and +inclined to butt at Tudor, so even that small excitement was over, and +the girl came sauntering back under the shady elder tree which spread +its branches over the doorway of the back kitchen. She crossed to the +window, and leaning her arms on the deep sill looked out over the yard, +and the fields beyond, to the sea, whose every aspect she knew so well. +Not a boat or sail broke its silvery surface, even there the spell of +Sabbath stillness seemed to reign. She thought of the chapel with its +gallery thronged with smiling lads and lasses; she thought of Will +sitting bolt upright at church. Yes; decidedly the dullness was +depressing; but suddenly a brightening thought struck her. Why should +she not hunt up the old Bible which Ann said was too bad to leave +about? What could Gethin have written in it that was so wicked? She +remembered him only as her friend and companion, and her willing slave. +She was only a child when he left, but she had not forgotten the burst +of bitter wailing which she sent after him as he picked up his bundle +and tore himself away from her clinging arms, and how she had cried +herself to sleep that night by Sara's side, who had tried to pacify her +with promises of his speedy return. But he had never come, and his +absence seemed only to have left in his father's memory a sense of +injury, as though he himself had not been the cause of his boy's +banishment. Even Ann and Will, who had at first mourned for him, and +longed for his return, appeared to have forgotten him, or only to +regard his memory as a kind of sorrowful dream. Why, she knew not, but +the thought of him on this quiet Sunday afternoon filled her with +tender recollections. She opened every dusty book in the glass +bookcase, but in vain. Here was Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress"; and +here a worm-eaten, brown stained book of sermons; here were Williams of +"Pantycelyn's" Hymns and his "Theomemphis," with Bibles old and new, +but _not_ the one which she sought. Mounting a chair, and from thence +the table, she at last drew out from under a glass shade, covering a +group of stuffed birds, a dust-begrimed book, with a brass clasp and +nails at the corners. Dusting it carefully she laid it on the table +before her, and proceeded to decipher its faded inscriptions. Yes--no +doubt this was the book for which she had sought, and with a brown +finger following the words, she read aloud: + + "ANN OWENS, HER BOOK, + GARTHOWEN." + +Beneath this was written in a boyish hand the well-known doggerel lines: + + "This book is hers, I do declare, + Then steal it not or else beware! + For on the dreadful Judgment Day + You may depend the Lord will say, + 'Where is that book you stole away?'" + + +It was written in English, and Morva, though she could make herself +understood in that language, was not learned enough to read it easily. +However, there was no difficulty in reading the signature of "William +Owens" which followed. She turned over a leaf, and here indeed were +signs of Gethin, for all over the title page was scrawled with many +flourishes "Gethin Owens, Garthowen," "Gethin Owens," "G. O.," +"Gethin," etc. It was wrong, no doubt, to deface the first page of the +Bible in this way, but Ann had said "too wicked to leave about!" so +Morva searched through the whole book, until on the fair leaf which +fronted "The Revelations" she found evident proof of Gethin's +depravity; and she quailed a little as she saw a vivid and realistic +pen and ink drawing of a fire of leaping flames, standing over which +was a monster in human shape, though boasting of a tail and cloven +hoofs. With fiendish glee the creature was toasting on a long fork +something which looked fearfully like a man, whose starting eyes and +writhing limbs showed plainly that he was not as happy as his +tormentor. It was very horrible, and Morva closed the book with a +snap, but could not resist the temptation of another peep, as there was +something written beneath in Welsh, which translated ran thus: + + "Here's the ugly old Boy! I tell you beware! + If you fall in his clutches there's badly you'll fare! + Look here at his picture, his claws and his tail, + If you make his acquaintance you're sure to bewail! + Hallelujah! Amen! + --GETHIN OWENS." + + +At the last words Morva stood aghast; this then was Gethin's terrible +crime! "Oh! there's a boy he must have been!" said the girl, clasping +her fingers as she leant over the big Bible. "Oh! dear, dear! no +wonder 'n'wncwl Ebben was so angry! I don't forget how cross he was +one day when I let the Bible fall; didn't his face alter! 'Dost +remember, girl,' he said, 'it is the Word of God!' and there's +frightened I was! Poor Gethin! 'twas hard, though, to turn him away, +for all they are such wicked words. 'Hallelujah! Amen!' Well, +indeed! the very words that 'n'wncwl Ebben says so solemn after the +sermon in Penmorien!" and she shook her head sorrowfully, "and here +they are after this song about the devil. Will would never have done +that," and she pondered a little seriously; "but poor Gethin! After +all, he was only a boy, and boys do dreadful things--but Will never +did! Mother reads her Bible plenty too, but I don't think she would +have turned me out when I was a little girl if I had made this song. +I'll tell her to-night, and see what she says about Gethin, poor +fellow." + +She closed and clasped the book, and mounting the table again, replaced +it in the hollow at the top of the bookcase, with the stuffed birds and +glass case over it. + +When Ann and her father returned from chapel, there was a conscious +look on her face which they both remarked upon at once. + +"What's the matter, Morva?" asked Ann. + +"Is the calf worse?" asked the old man. + +"No," answered the girl, her seriousness vanishing at once. "Nothing's +the matter; the calf is getting quite well." + +As she spoke Will arrived from church, wearing a black coat and a white +cotton tie, his prayer-book under his arm. + +Ebben Owens looked at him with an air of proud satisfaction. + +"Here comes the parson," he said, and Will smiled graciously even at +Morva, whom he generally ignored in the presence of Ann and his father. + +"Hast been stopping at home, Morva? I thought thee wast at chapel." + +"I am going home now," said the girl, eyeing him rather critically. "I +will tell mother I have seen the 'Rev. Verily Verily.'" + +Will flushed up, though he pretended to laugh; but Ebben Owens looked +annoyed. + +"No more of that nonsense, Morva; thou art a bit too forward, girl; +remember Will is thy master's son, and leave off thy jokes." + +"Oh! she meant no harm," said Will apologetically; "'twill be hard if +we can't have our jokes, parson or no parson." + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, without a shade of annoyance in her voice, +"'twill be hard at first; but I suppose I will get used to it some day. +Will you want me again to-night, Ann?" + +"No; but to-morrow early," said Ann. + +And Morva went singing through the farmyard, and along the fields to +the Cribserth; but to-day it was a hymn tune of mournful minor melody +which woke the echoes from moor and cliff. Rounding the ridge, the +same fair view greeted her eyes, as had chased away Will's ill-temper +on the preceding evening, and she sat a moment under the shadow of a +broom bush to ponder, for Morva was a girl of many thoughts though her +mind was perfectly uneducated, her heart and soul were alive with +earnest questions. Her seventeen years had been spent in close +companionship with a woman of exceptional character, and although the +girl did not share in the abnormal sensitiveness of her foster-mother, +she had gained from her intimacy with her, an unusual receptivity to +all the delicate influences of Nature. Sara claimed to be clairvoyant, +though she had never heard the word. Morva was clear seeing only; her +pure and simple spirit was undimmed by any mists of worldly ideas; no +subterfuge or plausible excuse ever hid the truth from her, and yet in +spite of this crystal innocence, she kept her engagement to Will a +secret from all the world, excepting Sara. + +It is the custom of the country to keep a love affair a secret as long +as possible; if it is discovered and talked about by outside gossips, +half its delight and charm is gone; indeed it is considered indelicate +to show any signs of love-making in public. It is true that this +secrecy often leads to serious mischief, but, on the other hand, there +is much to be said for the sensitive modesty of the Welsh maiden, when +compared with an English girl's too evident appreciation of her lover's +attentions in public. So hitherto Morva had followed Will's lead, and +shown no signs of more than the love and affection which was naturally +to be expected from her close intercourse with the Garthowen family +from babyhood. Did she feel anything more? She thought she did. From +childhood she had been promised to Will; the idea of marrying him when +they were both grown to manhood and maidenhood had been familiar to her +ever since she could remember. It caused no excitement in her mind, no +tumult in her heart. It was in the nature of things--it was Will's +wish--it was her fate! She did not rebel against it, but it woke no +thrill of delight within her. She had promised, and the idea of +breaking that promise was one that never entered her mind; but this +evening, as she sat under the broom bush, a curious feeling of unrest +came over her. How was it all to end? Would it not be wiser of Will +to turn his face to the world lying beyond the Cribserth ridge, where +the towns--the smooth roads--the college--and the many people lay, and +leave her to her lonely moor--to the sheep, and the gorse, and the +heather? She looked around her, where the evening sun was flooding +land and sea with golden glory. + +"I would not break my heart," she thought; "here is plenty to make me +happy; there's the sea and the sands and the rocks! and at night, oh, +anwl! nobody knows how beautiful it is to float about in Stiven +'Storrom's' boat, in and out of the rocks, and the stars shining so +bright in the sky, and the moon sometimes as light as day. Oh, no; I +wouldn't be unhappy," and stretching her arms out wide, she turned her +face up to the glowing sky. "I love it all," she said, "and I do not +want a lover." + +Catching sight of the blue smoke curling up from the heather mound +behind which Sara's cottage was buried, she rose, and dropping her +sober thoughts, ran homewards, singing and filling the sweet west wind +which blew round her with melody. But ere she reached the cottage +door, there came a whistle on the breeze, and, turning round, she saw +Will standing at the corner of the Cribserth, just where the rocky +rampart edged the hillside. She turned at once and slowly retraced her +footsteps, Will coming to meet her with more speedy progress. He had +changed his clothes, and in his work-a-day fustian looked far better +than he had in the black cloth suit which he had worn to church. + +"Well, indeed, Morva lass, thou runn'st like the wind; I could never +catch thee. Come and sit down behind these bushes, for I want to talk +to thee. Wert offended at what my father said just now?" + +"Offended! no," said the girl. "Garthowen has a right to say what he +likes to me, and besides, he was right, Will. I must learn to treat +thee with more respect." + +"Respect!" said Will, laying hold of her hands, "'tis more love I want, +lass, and not respect; sometimes I fear thou dost not love me." + +"But I do," said the girl calmly; "I do love thee, Will. 'Tis truth +that I would lay down my life for thee and all at Garthowen. Haven't +you been all in all to me--father, sister, brother? and especially you +and I, Will, have been together all our lives. Ann has not been quite +so much a sister to me since we've grown up, but then I am only the +milkmaid, and Gwilym Morris has come between." + +"Yes, true," said Will; "but between me and thee, Morva, nothing has +ever come. Promise me once more, that when I have a home for thee thou +wilt marry me and come and live with me. My love for thee is the only +shadow on my future, because I fear sometimes that something will part +us, and yet, lass, it is the brightest spot, too--dost believe me?" + +"Yes," said Morva, with eyes cast down upon the wild thyme which her +fingers were idly plucking, "I believe thee, Will. What need is there +to say more? I have promised thee to be thy wife, and dost think I +would break my word? Never! unless, Will, thou wishest it thyself. +Understand, that when once I am sure that thou hast changed thy mind +then I will never marry thee." + +"That time will never come," said Will; and they sat and talked till +the evening shadows lengthened and till the sun sank low in the west; +then they parted, and Morva once more turned her footsteps homewards. +She walked more soberly than before, and there was no song upon her +lips. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SEA MAIDEN + +Sara was sitting at tea when the girl arrived. Through the open +doorway came the glow of the sunset, with the humming of bees and the +smell of the thyme and the bean flowers. + +"Thou hast something to ask me, Morva. What is it?" she said, making +room for her at the little round table in the chimney corner. + +"Oh, 'tis nothing, I suppose," said Morva, cutting herself a long slice +of the flat barley loaf; "only 'tis the same old questions that are +often troubling me. What is going to become of me? What is in the +future for me? I used to think when I grew to be a woman I would marry +Will, and settle down at Garthowen close to you here, mother fāch, and +take care of 'n'wncwl Ebben when Ann and Gwilym Morris were married; +but now, somehow, it all seems altered." + +The old woman looked at her long and thoughtfully. + +"Wait until later, child," she said. "Clear away the tea, tidy up the +hearth, and let me read my chapter while the daylight lasts," and +finishing her tea Morva did as she was bid. + +Later on in the evening, sitting on the low rush stool opposite to +Sara, she continued her inquiries. + +"Tell me, mother, about Will and Gethin when they were boys. Was +Gethin so very wicked?" + +"Wicked? No," said Sara, "never wicked. Wild and mischievous and full +of pranks he was, but the truest, the kindest boy in the world was +Gethin Owens Garthowen." + +"And Will?" + +"Will was a good boy always, but I never loved him as I loved the +other. Gethin had a bad character because he stole the apples from the +orchard, and he took Phil Graig's boat one day without asking leave, +and there was huboob all over the village, and his father was mad with +anger, and threatened to give him a thrashing; but in the evening +Gethin brought the boat back quite safely. He had been as far as +Ynysoer, and he brought back a creel full of fish for Phil, to make up. +Phil made a good penny by the fish, and forgave the boy bāch; but his +father was thorny to Gethin for a long time. Then at last he did +something--I never knew what--that offended his father bitterly, and he +was sent away, and never came back again." + +"Mother," said Morva solemnly, "I have found out what he did. He got +his mother's Bible and he wrote some dreadful things in it, and made a +fearful picture." + +"Picture of what?" asked the old woman. + +"A picture of flames and fire, and the devil toasting a man on it, and +a song about the devil. Here it is; I remember every word," and she +repeated it word for word, it having sunk deeply into her mind. "Then +at the bottom he had written, 'Hallelujah, Amen! Gethin Owens +Garthowen.'" + +A smile overspread Sara's countenance as she observed Morva's +solemnity, a smile which somewhat lessened the girl's disquietude. + +"Was it so very wicked, mother?" + +"Wicked? No," said the old woman. "What wonder was it that the boy +drew a picture of the things that he heard every Sunday in +chapel--God's never-ending anger, and the devil's gathering in the +precious souls which He has created. That would be a failure, Morva, +and God can't fail in anything. No, no," she added shrewdly, nodding +her head, "He will punish us for our sins, but the devil is not going +to triumph over the Almighty in the end." + +Morva pondered seriously as she fed the fire from a heap of dried furze +piled up in the corner behind the big chimney. + +"I was very little when Gethin went away, but I remember it. Now tell +me about the night when first I came to you. I love that story as much +now as I did when I was a child." + +"That night," said Sara, "oh! that night, my child. I see it as +plainly as I have seen the gold of the sunset to-night. It had been +blowing all day from the north-west till the bay was like a pot of +boiling milk. It was about sunset (although we couldn't see the sun), +there was a dark red glow over everything as if it were angry with us. +Up here on the moor the wind shrieked and roared and tore the poor +sheep from the fold, and the little sea-crows from their nests. I sat +here alone, for it was the year when my husband and baby had died, and, +oh, I was lonely, child! I moaned with the wind, and my tears fell +like the rain. I heaped the furze on the fire and kept a good blaze; +it was cold, for it was late in October. It grew darker and darker, +and I sat on through the night, and gradually my ears got used to the +raging of the storm, I suppose, for I fell asleep, sitting here under +the chimney, but suddenly I awoke. The wind was shrieking louder than +ever, and there in that dark corner by the spinning-wheel I saw a faint +shadow that changed into the form of a woman. She was pale, and had on +a long white gown, her hair, light like thine, hung down in threads as +if it were wet. She held out her hands to me, and I sat up and +listened. I saw her lips move, and, though I could not hear her voice, +I seemed to understand what she said, for thee know'st, Morva, I am +used to these visions." + +"Yes," said the girl, nodding her head. + +"Well, I rose and answered her, and drew my old cloak from the peg +there. 'I am coming,' I said, and she glided before me out through the +door and down the path over the moor. I saw her, a faint, white +figure, gliding before me till I reached the Cribserth, and there she +disappeared, but I knew what she wished me to do; and I followed the +path down to the shore, and there was tumult and storm indeed, the air +full of spray, and even in the black night the foaming waves showing +white against the darkness. Out at sea there was a ship in distress, +there was a light on the mast, and we knew by its motion that the poor +ship was sorely tossed and driven. Many people had gathered on the +shore in the darkness. No one had thought of calling me, for here we +are out of the world, Morva; but the spirits come more easily to the +lonely moor than to the busy town. Ebben Owens was there, and little +Ann, and all the servants and the people from the farms beyond the +moor, but no one could help the poor ship in her distress. At last the +light went out, and we knew the waves had swallowed her up, and all +night on the incoming tide came spars and logs and shattered timber, +and many of the drowned sailors. Stiven 'Storrom' was there as usual, +and in the early dawn, when there was just a streak of light in the +angry sky, he shouted out that he had found something, and we all ran +towards him, and there, tied safely to a hencoop, lay a tiny baby, wet +and sodden, but still alive. It was thee, child, so wasn't I right to +call thee Morforwyn?[1] though indeed we soon shortened it to Morva. +When I saw thee I knew at once 'twas thy mother who had come to me +here, and had led me down to the shore, and I begged them to give me +the baby. 'There is a reason,' I said, but I did not tell them what it +was. What was the good, Morva? They would not understand. They would +only jeer at me as they do, and call me Sara ''spridion.'[2] Well, let +them, I am richer than they, oh! ten thousand times, and I would not +change my life here on the lonely moor, and the visions I have here, +for any riches they could offer me." + +"No, indeed, and it is a happy home for me, too, though I don't see +your visions; but then you tell me about them, and it teaches me a +great deal. Mother, I think my life is more full of happy thoughts +than most of the girls about here because of your teaching. No, I +don't want to leave here, except, of course, I must live at Garthowen +when Will wants me." + +The old woman made no answer, but continued to gaze at the crackling +furze. + +"You wish that too, mother?" asked the girl. + +"I did, 'merch i, but now I don't know indeed, Morva. Thou must not +marry without love." + +"Without love, mother! I have told you many times I love Will with all +my heart." + +Sara shook her head with a smile of incredulity. + +"It is a dream, child, and thou wilt wake some day. Please God it may +not be too late." + +A pained look overspread the girl's face, a turmoil of busy thought was +in her brain, but there was no uncertainty in the voice with which she +answered: + +"Mother, I love Will. I have told him so. I have promised to be his +wife, and I would rather die than break my word." + +"Well, well," said Sara, "there is no need to trouble, child, only try +to do right, and all that will be settled for thee; but I think I see +sorrow for thee, and it comes from Will." + +"Well," said Morva bravely, as she flung another bunch of furze on the +fire, "I suppose I must bear my share of that like other people. 'As +the sparks fly upward,' mother, the Bible says, and see, there's a fine +lot of them," and she raked the small fire with the lightsome laugh of +youth. + +"Ah!" said the old woman, "thou canst laugh at sorrows now, Morva; but +when they come they will prick thee like that furze." + +"And I will stamp them out as I do these furze, mother," and again she +laughed merrily, but ceased suddenly, and, with her finger held up, +listened intently. + +"What is that sound?" she asked. "It is some one brushing through the +heather and furze. Who can it be? Is it Will?" + +Both women were fluttered and frightened, for such a thing as a +footstep approaching their door at so late an hour was seldom heard, +for at Garthowen they all retired early, and the cottagers in the +village below avoided Sara as something uncanny, and looked askance +even at Morva, who seemed not to have much in common with the other +girls of the countryside. + +"'Tis a man's step," she whispered, "and he is coming into the cwrt," +and, while she was still speaking, there came a firm, though not loud, +knock at the door. + +Morva shrank a little under the big chimney, where she stood in the +glow of the flaming furze; but Sara rose without hesitation, and going +to the door, opened it wide. + +"Who is here so late at night?" she asked. + +"Shall I come in, Sara, and I will explain?" said a pleasant, though +unknown voice. "'Twas to Garthowen I was going, but when I reached +there every light was put out, so I wouldn't wake the old man from his +first sleep, and I have come on here to see can you let me sleep here +to-night? Dost know me, Sara?" + +"Gethin Owens!" exclaimed the old woman, with delighted surprise. "My +dear boy, come in!" + +There was no light in the cottage except that of the fitful furze fire, +so that when Gethin entered he exclaimed at the darkness, + +"Sara fāch, let's have a light, for I am longing to see thee!" + +Morva threw a fresh furze branch on the fire. The motion attracted +Gethin's attention, and as the quick flame leaped up, the girl stood +revealed. While Sara fumbled about for the candle the flame burnt out, +and for a moment there was gloom again. + +"Hast one of thy spirits here, or was it an angel I saw standing there +by the fire?" said the newcomer; but when Sara had succeeded in +lighting the candle, he saw it was no spirit, but a creature of flesh +and blood who stood before him. + +"No, no, 'tis only Morva," said Sara, dusting a chair and pushing it +towards him. "Sit thee down, my boy, and let me have a good look at +thee. Well! well! is it Gethin, indeed? this great big man, so tall +and broad." + +But Gethin's eyes were fixed upon the girl, who still stood astonished +and bewildered under the chimney. + +"Morva!" he said, "is this little Morva, who cried so bad after me when +I went away, and whom I have longed to see so often? Come, shake +hands, lass; dost remember thy old playmate?" and he advanced towards +her with both hands outstretched. + +Morva placed her own in his. + +"Yes, indeed," she answered, "now in the light I can see 'tis thee, +Gethin--just the same and unaltered only--only--" + +"Only grown bigger and rougher and uglier, but never mind; 'tis the +same old Gethin who carried thee about the slopes on his shoulders, +but, dei anwl! I didn't expect to see thee so altered and so--so +pretty." + +Morva blushed but ignored the compliment. + +"Well, indeed, there's glad they'll be to see thee at Garthowen." + +"Dost think?" + +"Yes, indeed; but won't I put him some supper, mother?" + +"Yes, 'merch i, put on the milk porridge." + +And Morva, glad to hide her embarrassment, set about preparing the +evening meal, for Gethin's eyes told the admiration which he dared not +speak. His gaze followed her about as she mixed the milk and the +oatmeal in the quaint old iron crochon. + +"'Twill soon be ready; thee must be hungry, lad," said Sara, laying the +bowls and spoons in readiness on the table. + +"Yes, I am hungry, indeed, for I have walked all the way from +Caer-Madoc. 'Tis Sunday, thee seest, so there were no carts coming +along the road. Halt, halt, lass!" he said, "let me lift that heavy +crochon for thee." + +"Canst sleep on the settle, Gethin?" asked the old woman, "for I have +no bed for thee. I will spread quilts and pillows on it." + +Gethen laughed boisterously. + +"Quilts and pillows, indeed, for a man who has slept on the hard deck, +on the bare ground, on a coil of ropes; and once on a floating spar, +when I thought sleep was death, and welcomed it too." + +"Hast seen many hardships then, dear lad?" said Sara. "Perhaps when we +were sleeping sound in out beds, thou hast oftentimes been battling +with death and shipwreck." + +"Not often, but more than once, indeed," said Gethin. + +"Thou must tell us after supper some of thy wonderful escapes." + +"Yes, I'll tell you plenty of yarns," said Gethin, his eyes still +following Morva's movements. + +A curious silence had fallen upon the girl, generally so ready to talk +in utter absence of self-consciousness. She served the porridge into +the black bowls, and shyly pushed Gethin's towards him, cutting him a +slice of the barley bread and butter. + +"I have left my canvas bag at Caer-Madoc," said Gethin, when he had +somewhat appeased his appetite. "'Twill come up to Garthowen +to-morrow. I have a present in it for thee, Morva." + +"For me?" said the girl, and a flood of crimson rushed into her face. +"I didn't think thee wouldst be remembering me." + +"There thou wast wrong, then," said Gethin, cutting himself another +slice. + +"Well, indeed, I have never had a present before!" + +"I have one for Ann, and Will, and my father, God bless him! And how +is good old Will?" + +"He is quite well," said Morva. + +"As industrious and good as ever? Dei anwl! there's a difference there +was between me and him! You wouldn't think we were children of the +same mother. Well, you can't alter your nature, and I'm afraid 'tis a +bad lot Gethin Owens will be to the end!" And he laughed aloud, his +black eyes sparkling, and the rings in his ears shining out in the +gloom of the cottage. + +Morva looked at the stalwart form, the swarthy skin, the strong, even +teeth, that gleamed so white under the black moustache, the jet-black +hair, the broad shoulders, and thought how proud Ann would be of such a +brother. + +They sat long into the night, Sara gathering from the young man the +history of all his varied experiences since he had left his father's +home; Morva listening intently as she cleared away the supper, Gethin's +eyes following her light figure with fascinated gaze. + +At last the door was bolted, the fire swept up, and Sara and Morva, +retiring to the penucha, left Gethin to his musings, which, however, +quickly resolved themselves into a heavy, dreamless sleep, that lasted +until the larks were singing above the moor on the following morning. + + + +[1] Sea-maiden. + +[2] Spirit Sara. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +GETHIN'S PRESENTS + +The corn harvest had commenced, and Ebben Owens was up and out early in +the cornfields. Will, too, was there, but with scant interest in the +work. It had never been a labour of love with him, and now that fresh +hopes and prospects were dawning upon him, the farm duties seemed more +insignificant and tedious than ever. Had it been Gethin who stretched +himself and yawned as he attacked the first swathe of corn, Ebben Owens +would have called him a "lazy lout," but as it was Will, he only +jokingly rallied him upon his want of energy. + +"Come, come," he said, "thee'st not got thy gown and bands on yet. +We'll have hard work to finish this field by sunset; another hand +wouldn't be amiss." + +"Here it is, then," said a pleasant, jovial voice, as a sunburnt man +came through the gap, holding out his brown right hand to Ebben Owens. +The other he stretched towards Will, who had thrown his sickle away, +and was hastily approaching. + +No human heart could have steeled itself against that frank countenance +and beaming smile, certainly no father's. There was no questioning +"Who art thou?" for in both father's and brother's hearts leaped up the +warm feeling of kinship. + +"Gethin!" said Ebben Owens, clasping the hand held out to him so +genially. "'Machgen i, is it thee indeed? Well, well, I am glad to +see thee!" + +And Will, too, greeted the long-lost one with warm welcome. + +The reapers gathered round, and Gethin's reception was cordial enough +to satisfy even his anticipations; for he had thought of this +home-coming, had dreamt of the welcome, and had earnestly desired it, +with the intense longing for home which is almost the ruling passion of +a Welshman's heart. + +"Here I am," he said, laughing, his eyes sparkling with +happiness--"here I am, ready for anything! 'The prodigal son' has +returned, father. Will you have him? Will you set him to work at once +with your hired servants? For I love hard work, and if I don't get it, +perhaps I'll fall into mischief again." + +"No, no," said Ebben Owens, "no work for thee this morning, lad. Thee +must go home with Will, and lighten Ann's heart, for she has grieved +for thee many a time, and I will follow at noon. To-morrow thou shalt +work if thou wilt; there is plenty to do at Garthowen, as usual. Come, +boys, come, on with the work. Nothing must stop the harvest, not even +the homecoming of Gethin." + +The men stooped to their work again, but there were muttered comments +on the master's want of feeling. + +"Dei anwl! if it had been Will," said one man to his neighbour, "the +reaping would have been thrown to the winds, and we would have had a +grand supper on the fatted calf. But Gethin is different. There's a +fine fellow he is!" + +"Yes," said another; "did you notice his broad chest and his bright +eyes? Will looks nothing by him." + +And they looked after the two young men as they passed through the gap +together, Ebben Owens taking up Will's sickle and setting to work in +his place. + +Meanwhile Gethin, with a sailor's light, swinging gait, hastened Will's +more measured steps towards the homestead. + +"Well, Will lad, there's glad I am to see thee!" + +"And I," said Will. "No one knows how much I grieved after thee at +first, but latterly I was beginning to get used to thy absence." + +"Well, 'twas quite the contrary with me, now," said Gethin. "At first +I was full of the new scenes and people around me, and I didn't think +much about old Wales or any of you; but as the time went on my heart +seemed to ache more and more for the old home--more and more, more and +more!--till at last I made up my mind I would give up the sea and go +back to Garthowen and stay, if they wanted me there, and help the old +man on the farm. Dost think he will have me?" + +"Yes, of course," said Will. "Thou hast come in the nick of time, and +'twill be easier for me to leave home, as I am going to do next month." + +"Leave home?" said Gethin, in astonishment. + +"Yes," and Will began to expatiate with pride on his new plans, and his +intention of entering Llaniago College at once. + +"Diwss anwl!" said Gethin; "have I got to live continually with a +parson? I'm afraid I had better pack up my bundle at once; thee wilt +never have patience with me and my foolish ways." + +Will looked sober. "Thy foolish ways! I hope thou hast left them +behind thee." + +"Well, truth," said Gethin, "as we grow older our faults and follies +get buried deeper under the surface; but it takes very little to dig +them up with me. I am only a foolish boy in spite of my strong limbs +and tall stature. But so it will always be. You can't make a silk +purse out of a sow's ear, and Gethin Owens will be Gethin Owens always. +There's the dear old place!" he cried suddenly; "there's the elder tree +over the kitchen door! Well, indeed! I have thought of it many times +in distant lands and stormy seas, and here it is now in reality! God +bless the old home!" and he took off his cap and waved it round his +head as he shouted, "Hoi! hoi!" to Ann, who, already apprised of his +coming, was running through the farmyard to meet him. + +"Oh, Gethin anwl!" she sobbed, as she clasped her arms round his neck. + +Gethin gently loosed her clinging fingers, and kissed the tears from +her eyes, and in her heart welled up again the tender love which had +been smothered and buried for so long. + +Gwilym Morris came hurrying down from his "study," a tiny room +partitioned off from the hayloft. And if the fatted calf was not +killed for Gethin's return, a fine goose was, and no happier family sat +down to their midday meal that day in all Wales than the household of +Garthowen. + +In the afternoon Gethin insisted upon taking his sickle to the +cornfield, and although the work was new to him his brawny arm soon +made an impression on the standing corn. The field was full of +laughter and talk, the sweet autumn air was laden with the scent of the +blackberries and honeysuckle in the hedges, and the work went on with a +will until, at four o'clock, the reapers took a rest, sitting on the +sunny hedge sides. + +Through the gap Ann and Morva appeared, bringing the welcome basket of +tea. Gethin hurried towards them, relieving them of the heavy basket +which they were carrying between them. + +"Thee'll have enough to do if thee'st going to help the women folk +here," said Will. + +"He's been in foreign parts," said a reaper, "and learnt manners, ye +see." + +"Yes," said another, "that polish will soon wear off." + +"Well, caton pawb!" said Gethin, "manners or no manners, man, I never +could sit still and see a woman, foreign or Welsh, carry a heavy load +without helping her." + +The two girls spread the refreshing viands on the grass, and with merry +repartee answered the jokes of the hungry reapers. + +"'Twill be a jolly supper to-night, Miss Ann; we'll expect the 'fatted +calf,'" said one. + +"Well, you'll get it," replied Ann; "'tis veal in the cawl, whatever." + +"Hast seen Gethin before?" said Will to Morva, observing there was no +greeting between them. + +"Well, yes," answered the girl, blushing a rosy red under her +sunbonnet; "wasn't it at our cottage he slept last night? and indeed +there's glad mother was to see him." + +"And thee ought to be too," said one of the reapers, "for I'll never +forget how thee cried the day he ran away." + +"Well, I'll never make her cry again," said Gethin. "Art going at +once, lass? Wilt not sit here and have tea with us?" and he drew his +coat, which he had taken off for his work, toward her, and spread it on +the hedge side. + +Morva laughed shyly; she was not used to such attentions. + +"No, indeed, I must go," she answered; "we are preparing supper." + +As she followed Ann through the gap Gethin looked after her with a +smile in his eyes. + +"There's bonnie flowers growing on the slopes of Garthowen, and no +mistake," he said. + +Will examined the edge of his sickle and did not answer. + +Later on, when the harvest supper was over, and the last brawny reaper +had filed out of the farmyard in the soft evening twilight, the +Garthowen household dropped in one by one to the best kitchen, where +their own meals were generally partaken of. Ebben Owens himself, as +often as not, took his with the servants, but Will, especially of late, +preferred to join Ann and Gwilym Morris in the best kitchen or hall. +Here they were seated to-night, a glowing fire of culm balls filling +the large grate, and throwing a light which was but little helped by +the home-made dip standing in a brass candlestick on the middle of the +table, round which they were all gathered while Gethin displayed his +presents. + +"Here's a tie for you, father; green it is, with red spots; would you +like it?" + +"Ts-ts!" said the old man, "it has just come in time, lad, for me to +wear on Sunday when I go to hear Will reading in church." + +"That will be a proud day for you, father; I will go with you. And for +thee, Will, here's a knife. I remember how fond thee wast of the old +knife we bought in the fair together." + +"Well, indeed!" said Will, clasping and unclasping the blades; "'tis a +splendid one, too, and here's a fine blade to mend pens with!" + +"And for Ann," continued Gethen, "I have only a hymn-book." + +"What couldst thou bring me better? And look at the cover! So good. +And the gold edges! And Welsh! I will be proud of it." + +"Yes," said Gethin; "I bought it in Liverpool in a shop where they sell +Welsh books. And for you, sir," he said, turning to Gwilym Morris. + +"'Sir,'" said the preacher, laughing; "Gethin bāch, this is the second +time you have called me 'sir.' Drop it, man, or I will be offended." + +"Well! I won't say it again. Dei anwl! I will have to be on my best +behaviour here, with a parson and a preacher in the house! Well! it's +a pocket-book for you, I thought very like, being a preacher, you would +like to put down a word sometimes." + +"Quite right, indeed," said Gwilym Morris; "and look at my old one, +barely hanging together it is!" + +At the bottom of the bag from which Gethin drew his treasures, lay the +little painted box containing Morva's necklace. + +"Where's Morva?" he asked. "I've got something for her, too." + +"Oh, well," said Will, "thou art a generous man and a rich, I should +think! Perhaps thou hast one for Dyc 'pigstye' and Sara ''spridion' +too." + +"Dyc 'pigstye'; no! But Sara, indeed I'm sorry I didn't remember her, +whatever." + +"I hear Morva's voice in the yard. Will I call her in?" said Ann, and +she tapped at the little side window. + +"No, no," said Gethin, "I will take it to her," and he went out, +carrying the gaudy box in his hand. + +"Morva!" he called, and under the elder tree, where she was counting +the chickens at roost on its branches, the girl stood facing him, the +rising moon shining full upon her. "Morva, lass," he said, drawing +near; "'tis the present I told thee of. Wilt have it?" and there was a +diffident tremor in his voice, which was not its usual tone; for +to-night he was as shy as a schoolboy as he opened the box and drew out +the shining necklace. The iridescent colours gleamed in the moonlight +and Morva exclaimed in admiration: + +"Oh, anwl! is that for me?" + +"Yes, for thee, lass; for who else?" said Gethin. "Let me fasten it on +for thee. 'Tis a tiresome clasp," and as she bent her shapely neck and +his fingers touched it for a moment, she gently drew further away. + +"Dost like them?" said Gethin, looking from the shining shells to the +glowing face above them. + +"Oh, they are beautiful!" she answered, feeling them with her fingers. +"I will go in and show them to Ann. I haven't said 'thank you,' but I +do thank thee indeed, Gethin;" and he followed her into the "hall," +where the glowing light from the fire and the candle fell on the +changing glitter of the shells. + +"Oh, there's beautiful!" said Ann. "Come near, Morva, and let me look +at them. Well, indeed, they are fit for a lady." + +"Thee must have paid a lot for that," said Ebben Owens, rather +reproachfully. + +"Not much indeed, father, but I wasn't going to forget my little +playfellow, whatever." + +"No, no, my boy, that was quite right," said the old man; and Will too +tried to smile and admire, but there was a flush of vexation on his +face which did not escape Morva's notice. + +"I must go now," she said, a little shadow falling over her. + +"Let me loosen the clasp for thee," said Gethin; but Morva, remembering +the touch of the brown fingers, quickly reached the door. + +"No--no, I must show them to mother." + +"Hast thanked Gethin, lass?" said the old man. + +"Not much, indeed," she answered, turning back at the door, "but I +thank thee, Gethin, for remembering me," and, half-playfully and +half-seriously, she made him a little bob curtsey. + +Arrived in the cottage she drew eagerly into the gleam of the candle. + +"Mother, mother, look! see what Gethin has brought me. Oh! look at +them, mother; row under row of glittering shells from some far-off +beach. Look at them, mother; green--blue--purple with a silver sheen +over them, too. I never thought there were such shells in the world." + +"They are beautiful, indeed," said Sara, "but just like a sailor. If +he had given thee something useful it would have been better. They +will not suit a shepherdess. Thee will have to take them off in a day +or two and lay them away in their box. 'Tis a pity, too, child." + +"Any way, mother, I will wear them sometimes; they are only shells +after all. 'Tis hard I can't wear them because they are so lovely." + +And the next day she wore them again, and, longing to see for herself +how she looked, made her way up to the moor in the early morning +sunshine to where a clear pool in the brown peat bog reflected the sky +and the gold of the furze bushes. Here she stood on the edge and gazed +at her own reflection in the clear water. + +"Oh, 'tis pretty!" she said leaning over the pool, and as she gazed her +own beautiful face with its halo of golden hair impressed itself on her +mind as it had never done before. "And there's pretty I am, too," she +whispered, and gazing at her own image she blushed, entranced with the +vision. "Good-bye, Morva," she whispered again, "good-bye. I wonder +does Gethin see me pretty? But I must not think that; what would be +the use? Will does, and that must be enough for me;" and with a sigh +she turned down the moor again. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE BROOM GIRL + +One morning in the following week the high road leading to Castell On +presented a lively appearance. It was white and dusty from the tramp +of the country folk and the vehicles of all descriptions which followed +each other towards the town, whose one long street would be crowded +from ten o'clock in the morning till late afternoon, as it was market +day. This was the weekly excitement of the neighbourhood, and there +was scarcely a household within the radius of a few miles that did not +send at least one of its members to swell the number of chafferers and +bargainers in the market. Jolly farmers, buxom maidens, old women in +witch hats and scarlet scarves, pigs, sheep, horses, all followed each +other in the same direction. + +Amongst the rest came a girl who rather stooped under what looked like +a large bunch of blooming heather. It was Morva, who was carrying her +bundle of heath brooms to the corner of the market-place, where she was +eagerly waited for by the farmers' wives. + +Dyc "pigstye" was accustomed to bring her a bundle of broom handles, +which he had roughly fashioned in the wood in the valley, and she and +Sara employed their leisure hours in tying on to them the bunches of +purple heather, binding them firmly with the young withies of the +willows growing here and there on the boggy moor. + +There was always quite a little knot of women round her stall of brooms +and wings, for she collected also from the farmhouses the wings of the +geese and ducks which had been killed for the market, and after drying +them carefully in the big chimney, sold them as brushes for hearth and +stairs. Sometimes, too, her stock-in-trade was increased by a +collection of wooden bowls, spoons, scales, and trenchers, which Stiven +"Storrom," living on the shore below, turned off his lathe, and sold +through Morva's agency. At such times she borrowed Stiven's +donkey-cart, and stood by it in the market until her wares were sold. +But to-day she had only her brooms, and tying them on her shoulders, +she held the cords crossed over her bosom, stooping a little under +their weight. Her head was buried in the purple blossoms, so that she +did not hear the tramp of footsteps following close behind her. + +Gethin and Will were going to the market together, and the latter had +recognised the girl at some distance off, but had kept silence and +lessened his speed a little until his brother had asked: + +"Who is this lass walking before us? Let's catch her up and carry her +brooms for her." + +"Nonsense," said Will. "A Garthowen man may drive his sheep, his oxen, +and his horses to market, but to carry a bundle of brooms would not +look well. Leave them and the fowls to the women, and the pigs to the +men-servants--that's my fancy." + +"Well, my fancy is to help this lassie," said Gethin. "She's got a +tidy pair of ankles, whatever; let's see what her face is like." + +"'Tis Morva," said Will, rather sulkily. + +"Then we know what her face is like. Come on, man. Who will be the +first to catch her?" and Gethin hurried his steps, while Will held back +a little. "Why, what's the matter? Surely thou art not ashamed to be +seen with Morva?" + +"Of course not," said Will irritably; "but--er--er--a broom girl!" + +"Oh, jawks!" said Gethin. "Brooms or no brooms, I am going to catch +her up," and coming abreast other, he laid his hand on the bunches of +blooming heather. + +"Morva," he said, bending round her purple burden, "where art here, +lassie? Thee art buried in flowers! Come, loosen thy cords, and hoist +them upon my shoulder." + +And as the girl looked at him from under the brooms, his voice changed, +the brusque sailor manner softened. + +"'Tis not for a girl like thee to be carrying a heavy weight on thy +shoulders," he said gently. "Come, loosen thy cords." + +But Morva held them tightly. + +"Not for the world," she said. "It is quite right I should carry my +wares to market, but I would not like to see a son of Garthowen with a +bundle of brooms on his shoulders." + +"I will have them," he said; "come, loosen the cords," and he laid hold +of one of the hands which held the rope. + +A warm glow overspread Morva's face, as the large brown hand covered +hers in its firm grasp. + +"No, I will do this to please thee," she said, and loosening her hold +of the bundle, she flung it suddenly into an empty red cart which was +rattling by. "Take care of them, Shemi, thou know'st my corner in the +market." + +"Yes, yes," said Shemi, "they will be all right." + +And Morva stood up in the sunshine freed from her burden. + +Will seemed to think it the right time to join them, and suddenly +appearing, greeted the girl, but rather coldly, and the three walked on +together, Gethin much resenting Will's bad temper, and endeavouring to +make up for his brother's somewhat silent and pre-occupied manner by +keeping up the conversation himself. But a little constraint fell upon +them all, Gethin chafing at the girl's apparent nervousness, and his +brother's silence; Morva fearful of offending Will, and disturbed at +her own pleasure at meeting Gethin. When they reached the town she +bade them good-bye. + +"Here's my corner," she said, "and when I have sold my brooms, I am +going home in the cart from the mill at Pont-y-fro." + +Will seemed relieved at this solving of his difficulties, but Gethin +was not so satisfied; he roamed the market discontentedly, filling his +pockets with sweets and gingerbread. Many times that day he peered +through the crowd into the corner out of the sun, where Morva's purple +blooms made a grand show. At last he ventured nearer, and laying his +sweets and gingerbreads down beside her, said: + +"Thee'll be hungry by and by, Morva; wilt have these?" + +The girl's eyes drooped, and she scarcely answered, but the smile and +the blush with which she took up the paper bags were quite enough for +Gethin, who went home early, with that smile and blush gilding every +thought and every subject of conversation with his companions of the +road. + +In the afternoon Morva, having sold her brooms, prepared to leave the +market. Looking up the sunny street, she saw Will approaching, and the +little cloud of sadness which Gethin's genial smile had banished for a +time, returned, bringing with it a pucker on the brows and a droop at +the corners of her mouth. + +"Well, indeed," she soliloquised, "there's grand Will is looking, with +his gloves and shining boots; quite like a gentleman. 'Tis not only me +he will have to say good-bye to soon, I am thinking, but to all at +Garthowen." + +Her thoughts were interrupted by his arrival. "Art still here, Morva?" +he said; "I thought thee wouldst have gone long ago." + +"Only just now I have sold my brooms. There's Jacob the Mill, now I +will go." + +Will looked at the cart uneasily as it rumbled up the street; already +he was beginning to be ashamed of his rustic surroundings. + +With keen sensitiveness Morva read his thoughts. + +"Nay, there's no need for you to help me, Will. I am used to the mill +cart, and indeed to goodness, 'twould not suit with gloves and shining +boots to be helping a girl into a red cart." + +"Twt, nonsense," said Will irritably; but he nevertheless allowed her +to leave him, with a wave of her hand, and an amused twinkle in her eye. + +As she hurried to catch the cart, he stood a moment moodily looking +after her, his better nature prompting him to follow and help her, but +it was too late; already the brilliant vehicle, with Morva and the +burly Jacob sitting in it side by side, was swallowed up by the crowd +of market people and cattle, and Will turned on his heel with a look of +vexation on his face. + +The market was at its liveliest, the sunny air laden with a babel of +sounds. Men and women chattered and chaffered, pigs shrieked, sheep +bleated, and cattle lowed, but Will scarcely noticed the familiar +sounds. A light step and a soft voice, however, attracted his +attention, and he saw approaching him two girls, who evidently belonged +to a different class from those whose simple ways we have hitherto +followed. One was a lady of very ordinary appearance, but the other he +recognised as Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny, a young lady whose beauty and +pleasant manners were the frequent theme of the countryside gossip, +"and no wonder," he thought, "she _is_ pretty!" + +"Ah! what a pity!" she was saying to her friend, who was evidently a +young housekeeper intent upon her purchases, "the brooms are all gone! +we're too late!" + +Will walked away hastily, lest standing upon that spot he might appear +to be in some way connected with the broom girl. Suddenly there was a +tumult in the air, a rushing of feet, and cries of fright, and in a +cloud of dust he saw rushing towards him an infuriated bull, which had +evidently escaped from his attendant, for from the iron ring in his +nose still hung the rope by which he had been held. With head lowered +and tail curled high over his back, he dashed towards the two ladies, +who fled in affright before him, one escaping through an open doorway, +while the other, bewildered and terrified, catching her foot in an +upturned stall-table, fell prone exactly in the path of the bull. The +poor animal, as frightened as any of his shouting pursuers, increased +his own mad fury by continually stepping upon the rope which dangled +from the ring in his nose, thus inflicting upon himself the pain from +which he endeavoured to escape. + +The girl screamed with terror, as the snorting nostrils and curving +horns came close upon her. In another moment she would undoubtedly +have been seriously gored, had not Will, who was in no wise lacking in +personal courage, rushed in upon the scene. One look at the beautiful, +pale face lying helpless in the dust, and he had seized the creature's +horns. The muscular power of his arms was well known at Garthowen, and +now it stood him in good stead, for calling his full strength to his +aid, he succeeded by a sudden wrench in turning the bull's head aside, +so that the direct force of his attack came upon the ground instead of +the girl's body. + +In a moment the enraged animal turned upon his assailant, and probably +Will would have fared badly had not a drover arrived, who, possessing +himself of the rope, gave a sudden and sharp twitch at the bull's nose, +a form of punishment so agonising and alas, so familiar, that the +animal was instantly subdued, and brought under comparative control, +not, however, before his horn had slightly torn Will's arm. + +An excited crowd of market people had now reached the spot, and while +the animal, frightened into submissiveness by the blows and cries that +surrounded him, was led away snorting and panting, Will looked in +affright at the girl who lay white and unconscious on the ground. + +"Did he toss her?" asked one of the crowd, "or is she only frightened? +Dear! there's white she looks, there's delicate the gentry are!" + +"'Tis her foot, I think," said Will; "let be, I will hold her." + +"Yes, 'tis her foot," said another, "the bull must have trampled on it, +see how dusty it is--there's a pity." + +It was in fact more from the pain of the crushed foot than from fright +that Gwenda had fainted, for she was a brave girl. Though fully alive +to her danger she had not lost consciousness until her foot had been +crushed, and even then not before she had seen Will's rush to her +rescue, and his energetic twist of the animal's horns. + +Two or three gentlemen now came running up the street, amongst them her +uncle, Colonel Vaughan, who, standing at the door of the hotel, had +witnessed the escape of the bull, and the pursuit of him by the excited +throng of market people. Remembering that his niece had but a few +moments previously passed up the street, he too ran in the same +direction, and arrived on the scene as promptly as his short legs and +shorter breath permitted him. In a fever of fright and flurry he +approached, the crowd making way for him as he snapped out a cannonade +of irrelevant questions. + +"Good heavens! Gwenda! What is it? My darling, are you hurt? Who +did it? How very careless!" + +"'Tis her foot, I think, sir," said Will. "She has not been gored, and +if you will send for your carriage I will lift her in as I am already +holding her." + +"She'd have been killed for certain," said one of the crowd, "if this +young man had not rushed at the bull and saved her life. I saw it all +from the window of the Market Hall. He risked his life, I can tell +you, sir, and you've got to thank him that the young lady is not +killed." + +"Yes, yes, a brave young fellow, pommy word. There comes the carriage, +now raise her gently," and Will lifted the slender form as easily as he +would have carried a swathe of corn. + +Slipping her gently into a recumbent position in the carriage, he +endeavoured to rest her foot on the opposite seat, but she moaned and +opened her eyes as he did so, crying out with evident pain. + +"'Tis plain the position hurts her," said her uncle. + +Will lifted the foot again, and the moaning ceased. + +"That's it," said the colonel; "sit down and hold it up." + +Will did as he was bid in a maze of bewilderment, and while the colonel +continued to wonder, to lament, and to congratulate, Will made a soft +cushion of a wrap which he found beside him, and resting the foot upon +it he held the two ends, so that the injured limb hung as it were in a +sling, thus lessening very much the effect of the jolting of the +carriage over the rough road. + +"Drive slowly," said the colonel to his coachman, "and call at Dr. +Jones's on your way. Can you spare time to come as far as Nantmyny?" +he said, addressing Will. + +"Oh! yes, sir, certainly," he answered in good English. + +"Tis the right foot, I think," said the old gentleman, unbuttoning the +boot. + +The girl opened her eyes. + +"Oh! uncle, it hurts," she said. "Keep it up," and catching sight of +Will, she looked inquiringly at her uncle. + +"Tis the young man who saved your life, child," he explained. + +"Oh! not that, sir," said Will. "I am sorry I have not even prevented +her being hurt." + +At first there was a pompous stiffness in Colonel Vaughan's manner, but +he added more graciously: + +"I hope you were not hurt yourself. Bless me! is that blood on your +hand?" + +"I have cut my wrist a little, but 'tis nothing," said Will. "Please +not to think about it." + +"Oh! certainly, certainly, we must. Here's Dr. Jones. Come in, +doctor. You must squeeze in somewhere. Gwenda has had a narrow +escape, and this young fellow has hurt his wrist in saving her. A very +brave young man! Mercy we were not all killed, I'm sure!" + +"I'll attend to them both when we get to Nantmyny," said Dr. Jones. + +"Keep her foot in that position, and be as quiet as possible, young +man," said the colonel, and Will, though he resented the tone and the +"young man," still felt a glow of satisfaction at the turn affairs had +taken. + +To have sat in the Nantmyny carriage! What a story to tell Ann and his +father! and Will felt as they drove through the lodge gates that the +charm of the situation outweighed the twinges of pain in his arm. + +Gwenda Vaughan, recovering a little, smiled at him gratefully. + +"Thank you so much for holding up my foot," she said. "It is easier +so. I am sorry you have hurt your wrist. Does it pain you much?" + +"Oh, 'tis nothing at all," said Will, not accustomed to think much of +slight wounds or bruises. + +On arriving at Nantmyny he assisted in carrying her into the house. + +"Now," said the doctor, when they had laid her on a couch, "let me see, +and I will look at your wrist afterwards. Young Owens of Garthowen, I +think--eh?" + +"Yes," said Will, quietly retreating into the background, while Colonel +Vaughan and the maids pressed round the sofa. He only waited until, +after a careful examination, the doctor said, "No bones broken, I'm +glad to say, only rather badly bruised," and then, leaving the room +unnoticed, found his way to the front door, and in a glow of excitement +walked back to Castell On. His arm was getting more painful, so on his +way through the town he called on Dr. Hughes, who was considered "the +people's" doctor, while Dr. Jones was more patronised by "the gentry." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +GARTHOWEN SLOPES + +Dr. Jones's visits to Nantmyny were very frequent during the following +week, for Gwenda's foot had been rather severely crushed, and the pain +was acute; but being a girl of great spirit she bore it patiently, +though it entailed many long hours of wearisome confinement to the +house and sofa. During these hours of enforced idleness, she indulged +in frequent "brown studies," for her firm and decided character was +curiously tinged with romance. She had received but a desultory +education; her uncle, though providing her amply with all the means of +learning, yet chafed continually against the application which was +necessary for her profiting by them. + +"Come out, child," he would call, standing outside the open window, his +jovial face broadening into a smile of blandishment, most aggravating +to Miss Howells, who, inside the window, was trying to fix her pupil's +attention upon some subject of history or grammar. The rustling of the +brown leaves and the whispering of the wind in the trees added their +own enticements, which required all Gwenda's firmness to resist. + +"No, uncle," she would say, shaking her finger at him. "Yesterday and +Monday you made me neglect my studies. You mustn't come again this +week to tempt me out. I have promised Miss Howells to be industrious. +It will soon be four o'clock, and then I will come." + +And her uncle had perforce to be content, for at Nantmyny there was no +doubt that Gwenda "ruled the roost." Somehow she emerged from the +stage of girlhood with a fair amount of knowledge, although her +mother's sisters, the two Miss Gwynnes of Pentre, were much +dissatisfied with her want of what they called "polish." + +"She'll never make a good match," they were wont to say, "never! That +plain outspokenness is all very well in a man, or even in an old woman, +but it's very unbecoming in a girl, and I'm sure it will ruin her +prospects." And on the subject of her "prospects" they were accustomed +to dilate so continually and so earnestly that Gwenda had a shrinking +dislike to the word, as well as to the subject to which it referred. + +"We must really speak to her again, Maria, for of course George may +marry some day, and then what would become of her prospects?" And +another lecture was prepared for Gwenda. + +A few days after the accident which made her a prisoner, lying on the +sofa in the morning-room she had fallen into a deep reverie, which had +caused quite a pucker between her eyebrows. Being naturally a +romantic, sentimental girl, she mentally resented the sordid necessity +so continually urged by her aunts of making a "good match." It was in +Gwenda to cast all their prudent manoeuvres to the winds, and to follow +the bent of her own inclinations; but it was in her also to immolate +herself entirely upon the altar of an imagined duty. She chafed +somewhat at the want of freedom in her surroundings, her aunts +declaring it was incumbent upon her to please her uncle by marrying +well, and as soon as possible. And all these restrictions galled the +young lady, in whom the romantic dreams of the natural woman were +calling loudly for fulfilment. Perhaps these feelings would account +for the little look of worry and discontent in her face on the Sunday +morning while her uncle lingered round her sofa. + +"Well, I'm sorry to leave you alone, Gwenda; but here are the +magazines, and I'll soon be back. I don't like the Nantmyny pew to be +empty, you know. Good-bye." + +When the sounds of the carriage-wheels had died away, Gwenda took up +one of the magazines and turned over the pages listlessly. She sighed +a little wearily, and fell asleep--a sleep which lasted until her uncle +returned from church, and came blustering into the room. + +"Well, pommy word, child, I think you have had the best of it this +morning. Price the vicar didn't preach. Some Jones of Llan something, +and you never heard such a rhodomontade in your life; but I went to +sleep and escaped the worst of it--all about mortar, give you my word +for it, Gwenda, and about not putting enough cowhair in the mortar." + +"Really!" she said, yawning. "No wonder you went to sleep. Were the +Williamses there?" + +"Yes, and the Griffiths of Plāsdu, and the Henry Reeses, and Captain +Scott is staying with them. Well, I'm going to have a smoke." But at +the door he turned round with a fresh bit of news. "Oh, what d'ye +think, Gwenda? A young man stood up to read the lessons, and I +couldn't for the life of me remember where I'd seen him before, and I +bothered my brains about it all through the sermon till I fell asleep. +After service I asked Price the vicar, and who should he be but that +young fellow who tackled the bull the other day? Pommy word, he's a +fine-looking fellow; got his arm in a sling, though." And he went out +banging the door. + +Gwenda pondered with a brightening look in her face. + +The young man who seized the bull! How strange! Reading the lessons! +What was the meaning of that? And with his arm in a sling! It must +have really required attention when he disappeared so mysteriously the +other day. Handsome? Yes, he was very handsome. That broad white +forehead crowned with its tawny clumps of hair! She would like to +thank him once more, for he had certainly saved her life. She rang the +bell, and a maid appeared. + +"Lewis, can you tell me who that man was who seized the bull the other +day?" + +"'Twas young Owens Garthowen, miss." + +"My uncle says he read the lessons in church to-day." + +"Yes, I daresay indeed, miss. He's going to be a clergyman, they say. +He hurt his arm shocking the other day, miss, because he went to Dr. +Hughes on his way from here, and he is keeping it in a sling ever +since." + +"Where does he live?" + +"Oh, about three miles the other side of Castell On, miss, towards the +sea. 'Tis an old grey farmhouse, very old, they say; 'tis on the side +of the hill towards the sea, very high up, too. 'Tis very windy up +there, I should think." + +Here the colonel entered again. + +"Lewis tells me, uncle, that young man who read the lessons is going to +enter the Church." + +"Shouldn't wonder at all; every Cardiganshire farmer tries to send one +son to the Church. There's Dr. Owen, now, he was a farmer's son. +Bless my soul! Why, he is this young man's uncle! Never thought of +that! Of course. He's own brother to Ebben Owens, Garthowen. I don't +think he keeps up any acquaintance with them, though, and, of course, +nobody alludes to them in his presence. I daresay he will take this +young man in hand and we shall have him canon or archdeacon or bishop +very soon." + +This was something more for Gwenda to ponder over, and before the day +was ended she had woven quite a halo of romance round Will's +unconscious head. + +"Shouldn't we send to ask how his arm is, uncle?" + +"Yes; pommy word we ought to. I am going to the meet to-morrow at +Plāsdu, 'twill be very little out of my way to go up to the farm and +ask how the young fellow is." + +The next afternoon when he returned from the hunt, he brought a fresh +item of news for his niece, for he pitied the girl lying there +inactive, a state of existence which above all others would have galled +him beyond measure. + +"I called up at the farm, Gwenda, and saw our young friend with the +lion locks. He was crossing the farmyard with a book under his arm, +which was still in a sling, but when I asked him about it he only +laughed (splendid teeth all those Garthowens have, old Ebben's even are +perfect)! He said his arm was quite well and he didn't know why Dr. +Hughes insisted upon keeping it in a sling. If he could only be sure, +he said, that the young lady's foot was not giving her more pain than +he felt he would be glad. I told him your foot was painful, but would +soon be all right. Well-spoken young man. By the by, all the men on +the field asked after you, and most of them said that was a brave +fellow who sprang at the bull. I told them it was one of Ebben Owens's +sons. Everybody knows him, you know. Very old family. At one time, I +am told, the Garthowen estate was a large one. Griffiths Plāsdu's +grandfather bought a great deal of it, all that wooded land lying this +side of the moor. By the by, Captain Scott is coming round this way to +dine with us to-morrow and to stay the night. Pommy word, child, I +think he has taken a fancy to you. He seemed quite anxious about you. +Good-bye, my dear, I must go." + +Gwenda turned her face to the window. The black elm branches swayed +against the evening sky, a brilliant star glittered through them, a +rising wind sighed mournfully and the girl sighed too. + +"Yes, Captain Scott no doubt was interested in her, probably he would +propose to her, and if he did, probably she would accept him, with all +his money, his starting eyes, and his red nose! How dull and +uninteresting life is," she said. "I wonder what we are born for?" + + * * * * * * + +At Garthowen the stream of life was flowing on smoothly just then. +Will was happy and content. He had read the lessons on Sunday to Mr. +Price's entire satisfaction, clearly and with an evident understanding +of their meaning. Sometimes the roll of the "r's" and the lengthening +of the "o's" showed the Welshman's difficulty in pronouncing the +English tongue, but upon the whole, the accent was wonderfully good. +Above all things Will had taken pains to acquire the English tone of +speech, for he was sufficiently acute to know that however learned a +Welshman may be, his chances of success are seriously minimised by a +Welsh accent, therefore he had paid much attention to this point. + +"The time is drawing near, father," he said one day. "I am determined +to go to Llaniago, and if you can't pay I must get the money somewhere +else, that's all," and he had risen from the table with that wilful, +dogged curve on his mouth which his father knew so well, and had always +been so weakly unable to resist. + +"Twt, twt, my boy," he said, "that will be all right; don't you vex +about that." + +And thus reassured, Will gladly banished the disquieting doubt from his +mind, and his good humour returned. + +Gethin seemed to fall naturally into his place as eldest son of the +family, taking to the farm work with zeal and energy, and making up for +his want of experience by his complete devotion to his work. + +Ann was calm and serene as usual, happy in her brother's prospects, and +deeply interested in the grey stone house which the congregation at +Penmorien were building for their minister. + +Gwilym Morris devoted himself entirely to Will's preparations for his +entrance examination. + +And for Morva, what had the autumn brought? A rich, full tide of life +and happiness. Every morning she rose with the sun, and as she opened +the door and let in the scent of the furze and the dewy grass, her +whole being responded to the voice of Nature around her. She was +constantly running backwards and forwards between Garthowen and the +cottage. Nothing went well at the farm without her, and in the cottage +there were a score of things which she loved to do for Sara. There +were the fowls to be fed, the eggs to be hunted for, the garden to be +weeded, the cottage to be cleaned, Sara's knitting to be set straight, +the herbs to be dried and sorted and tied up in bundles under the brown +rafters. Oh, yes! every day brought for Morva its full harvest of +lovely scenes, of beautiful sounds, and sweet scents. Certainly, Will +was a little cold and irritable lately, but she was well used to his +variable humours, and somehow the home-coming of Gethin had filled the +only void there had been in her life, though of that she had scarcely +been conscious. There was hardly an hour in the day when Morva's song +might not be heard filling the autumn air with melody, for how could +she help singing as she sat knitting on the moorside while she watched +the cattle, and kept them from roaming too near the edge of the cliff. + +On the brow of the hill Gethin was harrowing. His lively whistle +reached her on the breeze, and she would look up at him as he passed +along the skyline, and rejoice once more that he had returned to make +their lives complete, to fill Ann's heart with happiness, and his +father's with content; for the girl, generally so clear-sighted, so +free from guile or pretence, was deceiving herself utterly, and +imagined that the increased joy and glory of life which had permeated +her whole being since Gethin's return, arose only from the deep +interest she took in every member of the Garthowen family, and was due +solely to the happiness which the return of the wanderer naturally +evoked. Was not Gethin Will's brother? had she not every reason to be +glad in his return to the old home? her playmate, the friend of her +childhood? and she gave herself up unrestrainedly to the happiness +which brooded over every hour of her life. + +To Gethin, too, the world seemed to have changed to a paradise. Every +day, every hour drew him closer to Morva; in her presence he was lost +in a dream of happiness, in her absence she was ever present like a +golden vision in his mind. Will's manner towards the girl being +intentionally formal and distant, had completely blinded his brother to +the true state of affairs, and though his daily intercourse with Morva +seemed to him almost too delightful to last, he followed blindly the +chain that was binding him continually more closely to her. + +"Art not going to the market to-day?" he shouted out to her one morning +as he drove the horses over the moor. + +"No," called Morva in return. + +"Will and Gwilym Morris are gone," he shouted again, beginning his way +towards her between the low gorse bushes. "Art watching the sheep, +lass?" + +"No; 'tis the calves who will stray to the bog over yonder. Indeed, +they are wilful, whatever, for the grass down here is much sweeter. +There they go again--see!" and Gethin helped her with whoop and halloo, +and many devious races of circumvention to recover them. "Oh, anwl, +they are like naughty children," she said, sitting down, exhausted with +laughter and running, Gethin flinging himself beside her, and picking +idly at the gorse blossoms which filled the air with their rich perfume. + +The clear, blue autumn sky was over them, the deep blue sea stretched +before them, the larks sang overhead, the sheep bleated on the moor, +and in the grass around them the dewdrops sparkled in the morning sun. + +"'Tis a fair world," said Morva; "didst ever see more beautiful sea or +land than ours in all thy voyages, Gethin?" + +"Brighter, grander, warmer, but more beautiful--none, Morva. Indeed to +me, since I've come home, every day seems happier and more +beautiful--and thou, too, Morva. I think by that merry song thou wert +singing thou art not very unhappy." + +"Well, indeed, 'twas not a very happy song," said the girl, "but I +suppose I was putting my own foolishness into it." + +"Wilt sing it again, lass?" + +"Wilt sing, too?" + +"Oh, dei anwl, yes; there's no song ever reaches my ears but I must +join in it. Come, sing on." + +And Morva sang again, Gethin's rich tones blending with hers in full +harmony. This time she was awake, and realised the sorrow of the words. + +"Well, no," said Gethin, "'tis not a very merry thing, indeed, to set +your heart upon winning a maiden, and to lose her as that poor fellow +did. But, Morva," he said, tossing the gorse blossoms on her lap, +"'tis a happy thing to love and to be loved in return." + +"Yes, perhaps," said the girl, thinking of Will, and wondering why, +though he loved her so much, there was always a shadow hanging over her +affection for him. + +Gethin longed to break the silence which fell over them, but a nervous +fear deterred him, a dread of spoiling the happy freedom of their +intercourse--a nameless fear of what her answer might be; so he put off +the hour of certainty, and seized the joys of hope and delight which +the present yielded him. + +"Where's thy necklace, Morva?" + +"'Tis at home in the box. Mother says a milkmaid should not wear such +beautiful things every day, and on Sunday the girls and boys would +stare at me if I wore them to chapel." + +"What art keeping them for, then?" said Gethin. "For thy wedding-day?" + +"That will be a long time; oh, no, before then very often I will wear +it, now when I'm at home alone, and sometimes when the sun is gone down +I love to feel it on my neck; and I go up to the moor sometimes and +peep at myself in the bog pools just to see how it looks. There's a +foolish girl I am!" + +What a day of delight it was! The browns of autumn tingeing the moor, +the very air full of its mellow richness, the plash of the waves on the +rocks below the cliffs, the song of the reapers coming on the breeze, +oh, yes, life was all glorious and beautiful on the Garthowen slopes +just then. + +"To-morrow night is the 'cynos.'[1] Wilt be there, Morva?" asked +Gethin. + +"Well, yes, of course," answered the girl, "and 'tis busy we'll be with +only Ann and me and the men-servants, for Will never goes to the cynos; +he doesn't like farm work, and now he's studying so hard and all +'twould be foolish for him to sit up all night." + +"I will be there, whatever," said Gethin. + +"Wilt indeed?" and a glow of pleasure suffused her face. "There's +going to be fun there, they say, for Jacob the miller is going to ask +Neddy 'Pandy' to dance the 'candle dance,' and Robin Davies the sailor +will play the fiddle for him. Hast ever seen the candle dance?" + +"No," said Gethin, his black eyes fixed on the girl's beautiful face, +which filled his mind to the exclusion of what she was saying. + +"'Tis gone out of fashion long ago, but Jacob the miller likes to keep +up the old ways." + +"The candle dance," said Gethin absently, "what is it like?" + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, shyly bending her head under his ardent +gaze, "thee wilt see for thyself; I have dropped a stitch." + +A long silence followed while the stitch was recovered, and the furze +blossoms came dropping into her lap, into her hair, and on to her neck. +She laughed at last, and sprang up tossing them all to the ground. + +"The calves! the calves!" she cried, and once more both ran in pursuit +of the wilful creatures. + +So simple a life, so void of all that is supposed to make life +interesting, and yet so full of love and health and happiness that the +memory of it was impressed upon the minds of both for the rest of their +lives. Yes, even in old age they called it to mind with a pensive +tenderness, and a lingering longing, and the words, "There's happy we +were long ago on the Garthowen slopes!" + +Before he went to market in the morning Will had sought out Morva as +she sat on her milking-stool, leaning her head on Daisy's flank, and +milking her to the old refrain: + + "Troodi, Troodi! come down from the mountain! + Troodi, Troodi! come up from the dale!" + + +"I want to see thee, Morva; wilt meet me beyond the Cribserth to-night? +'Twill be moonlight. I will wait for thee behind the broom bushes on +the edge of the cliff." + +"Yes, I will come." + +Will was looking his best, a new suit of clothes made by a Caer-Madoc +tailor, the first of the kind he had ever had, set off his handsome +figure to advantage, his hat pushed back showed the clumps of red gold +hair, the blue eyes, and the mouth with its curves of Cupid's bow. +Yes; certainly Will was a handsome man. + +"There's smart thou art," said Morva, with a mischievous smile. + +"'Tis my new suit; they are pretty well," said Will. + +"And what are those? Gloves again! oh, anwl! indeed, it is time thee +and me should part," and rising from her stool she curtseyed low before +him with a little sarcasm in her looks and voice. + +"Part, Morva--never!" said Will. "Remember tonight." + +Morva nodded and bent to her work again, and the white sunbonnet leant +against Daisy once more, and the sweet voice sang the old melody. When +her pail was full she sighed as she watched Gwilym Morris and Will +disappear through the lane to the high road. + + + +[1] The annual corn-grinding. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE NORTH STAR + +Ebben Owens was going to market in his rough jolting car, Dyc "pigstye" +beside him, both dressed in their best frieze. In the back of the car, +covered over with a netting, lay three small pigs, who grunted and +squealed in concert when a rough stone gave them an extra jolt. In the +crowded street at Castell On, where the bargaining was most vigorous, +and the noise of the market was loudest, he stopped and unharnessed +Bowler, who had "forged" into town with great swinging steps and much +jingling of buckles and chains. + +Having led him into the yard of the Plough Inn, he returned, and with +Dyc's help proceeded to lift out the pigs and carry them to the pen +prepared for them in the open street, Dyc taking them by the ears and +Ebben Owens by the tail. Now, pigs have remonstrated loudly against +this mode of conveyance for generations, but nobody seems to have +listened to their expostulations. They are by no means light and airy +creatures, indeed, for their size, they are of considerable weight, so +why they of all other animals should be picked out for this summary +mode of transport is difficult to understand. At any rate the +Garthowen pigs resented it warmly, and the air was rent with their +shrieks as Will and Gwilym Morris came upon the scene. Ebben Owens +almost dropped his pig in the delight of seeing his son in his new +clothes. Will nodded smilingly at him, while keeping at a respectable +distance from the shrieking animals, and the old man was filled with a +glow of pride and happiness which threw a _couleur de rose_ over +everything for the rest of the day. In truth, Morgan Jones of Bryn +made an easy bargain with him for those pigs, and Ebben went home in +the evening with ten shillings less in his pocket than he meant to have +had when he started from home. + +"Look you here," he said to Ann and Gethin, who both hovered round him +on his return with loving attentions, "look you here now; wasn't a +gentleman in the market looking smarter than our Will to-day! There +was the young son of Mr. Vaughan the lawyer, was dressed like him +exactly--same brown hat, same grey suit, and his boots not shining so +well as Will's! Caton pawb! there's handsome he was! Shouldn't wonder +if he didn't marry a lady some day, with plenty of money!" + +"Shouldn't wonder, indeed," said Gethin, clapping him on the back; "and +there's proud he'll be to drive his old father to church with him!" + +"Hech! hech! hech!" laughed the old man, sitting down and rubbing his +knees. "Well, indeed, he's a fine boy, whatever!" + +"Wasn't Gwilym there?" asked Ann. + +"Yes, yes, to be sure, and he is looking very nice always; but I didn't +notice him much today." + +Meanwhile, in the town, Will and Gwilym had much to do; there were +books to be got--there was a horse to be looked at for the farm--and, +moreover, Will was to call upon Mr. Price the vicar, so the hours +passed quickly away, until late in the afternoon when the crowd was a +little thinning, the Nantmyny carriage passed through the street, +within it Colonel Vaughan and his niece. Will saw it at once, and +turned away to avoid recognition--for although nothing would have +pleased him more, he was a man of great tact and common sense, and +never spoiled a good chance by indiscreet intrusion. As he turned +away, Colonel Vaughan caught sight of him, and, stopping the carriage, +beckoned to a bystander, who touched his hat with a knobbed stake from +the hedge. + +"Isn't that young Owens of Garthowen?" + +"Iss, sare," said the man, knocking his hat again. + +"Ask him to come here, then." + +And Will came, not too hurriedly, and with assumed nonchalance. + +"Well, young man," said the colonel, "I want to know how your arm is?" + +"It is quite well, thank you," said Will, carefully studying his +accent. "I hope," he added, taking off his hat and turning to Gwenda, +who sat up interested, "I hope you are no longer suffering pain?" + +"Very little, thank you. I am so glad your arm is well again, and I am +glad to have this opportunity of thanking you." + +And as Will prepared to withdraw again, lifting his hat and showing his +tawny locks and his white teeth, Miss Vaughan placed her hand in his +with a friendly good-bye. + +The old colonel winced a little. + +"I don't think you need have shaken hands with him, child; however, it +was very nice of you, and I've no doubt it will please the young man +very much. I declare he looks like a gentleman." + +"And speaks like one," said Gwenda. + +"Yes; pommy word I don't know what's the world coming to!" + +"Very nice people those Vaughans, I should think," said Gwilym Morris, +as he and Will tramped homewards in the evening. + +"H'm! yes," said Will; "I daresay they thought they were honouring me +very much by their notice; but, mind you, Gwilym, in a few years I'll +show them I can hold up my head with any of them." + +"Will," said Gwilym, after a pause, "I am afraid for you, lad; I am +afraid of what the world will make of you. At Garthowen, with nothing +but the simple country ways around us, we escape many temptations; but +once we enter the world outside, even here in the market it reaches us, +that subtle insidious glamour which incites us, not to become what we +ought to be, but to appear different to what we are in reality." + +"I can't follow you," said Will. "I suppose it is every man's duty to +try and get on as far as he can in the path of life which he has +chosen. I have chosen mine, and I don't mean to leave a stone unturned +which may help me on. Yon can't blame me for that, Gwilym." + +"No, no! I suppose not; and yet--and yet--" + +"And yet what?" asked Will irritably. + +"You may get to the very top of the ladder, and then find it has not +been leaning against the right wall. That would be a poor success, +Will." + +"Well, well!" he said, as they entered the farmyard, "what's the matter +with you to-night? You wait a few years, give me only a chance, and +you'll be proud of your old pupil." + +When they had separated, Gwilym looked after him thoughtfully. + +"I wonder will I, indeed!" he said. + + * * * * * * + +It was late in the evening when Morva made her way to the cliffs to +meet her lover. The moor was bathed in a flood of silver moonlight, +the sea below was lighted up by the same serene effulgence, and the +silence of night was only broken by the trickle of the mill stream down +in the valley, the barking of the dogs on the distant farms, and the +secret scurry of a rabbit under the furze bushes. + +As she neared the edge of the cliff, the peace and beauty of the scene +impressed her eye but did not reach her heart, which was beating with a +strange unrest. + +In the dark shadow of the crags on the cliff side Will was waiting for +her. He had been there some time, and was a little nettled at her +delay. + +"Where hast been, Morva?" he said, stretching out his hand and drawing +her towards him in the shadow. "Come out of the moonlight, lass. +There is Simon 'Sarndu' fishing down there with Essec Jones; they will +see thee." + +"Well, indeed," said the girl, "what is the good of our going on like +this? It will be a weariness to thee to be always hiding thy--thy--" + +"My love for thee? No, Morva, 'tis all the sweeter to me that nobody +guesses it. And nobody must guess it; and that's what I wanted to +speak to thee about. When a man begins his life in earnest, and takes +his place in the outside world, he must be careful, Morva--careful of +every step--and must act very differently to those who mean to spend +their lives in this dull corner of the world." + +"Dull corner!" said Morva. "To me it seems the one bright spot in the +whole world, and as if no other place were of any consequence. I'm +sure if I ever leave here, I will be pining for the old home, the +lovely moor, and the sea and the cliffs. Oh! I can never, never be +happy anywhere else!" + +"Twt, twt," said Will, "thou art talking nonsense. When I send for +thee to come and live with me in a beautiful home, thou wilt be happy. +But listen, girl! Is thy love for me strong enough and true enough to +bear what may look like neglect and forgetfulness? For a time, Morva, +I want to break away from thee, lest any whispers of my love for thee +should get abroad. It would blast my success in life, 'twould ruin my +prospects if it were known that I courted my father's shepherdess, and +so, for a time I want to drop all outward connection with thee. Canst +bear that, Morva, and still be true to me?" + +"I don't know," said the girl. + +"Canst not believe that I shall love thee as much as ever, and more +fervently perhaps than ever?" + +"I will try," said Morva; "but I think thou art making a hard path for +thyself and me. 'Twould be better far to drop me out of thy life, then +thou couldst climb the uphill road without looking back." + +"And leave thee free to marry another man? Never, Morva! I claim thy +promise. Remember when thou wast a little girl how I made thee point +up to the North Star and promise to marry me some day." + +"Indeed the star is not there to-night, whatever." + +"It is there, Morva, only the moonlight is too bright for thee to see +it. It is there unchangeable, as thou hast promised to be to me." + +"Yes, I have promised; what more need be?" + +"Yes, more; thou must tell me again to-night, Morva, that thou wilt be +true to me whatever happens--whatever thou mayst hear about me--that +thou wilt still believe that in my heart I love thee and thee only. +Dost hear, girl--_whatever_ thou dost hear?" + +"I will believe nothing I may hear against thee, Will; nothing at all. +But when I see with my own eyes that thou art weary of me and art +ashamed of me, _then_ remember I am free." + +"But thine eyes may deceive thee." + +"I will swear by _them_, whatever," said Morva, with spirit. + +Will sighed sentimentally. + +"What a fate mine is! to be torn like this between my desire to rise in +the world and my love for a girl in a--in a humbler position than that +to which I aspire!" + +"Oh, Will bāch! thou art getting to talk so grand, and to look so +grand. Take my advice and drop poor Morva of the moor!" + +"I will not!" said Will. "I will rise in the world, and I will have +thee too! Listen to me, lass, I am full of disquiet and anxiety, and +thou must give me peace of mind and confidence to go on my path +bravely." + +"Poor Will!" said the girl, looking pensively out over the shimmering +sea. + +"Once more, Morva, dost love me?" + +"Oh, Will, once more, yes! I love thee with all my heart, thee and +everyone at Garthowen." + +"Well," said Will, "we have been kind to thee ever since thou wast cast +ashore by the storm. It would be cruel and ungrateful to return our +kindness by breaking my heart." + +"Oh, I will never, Will; I will never do that! Be easy, have faith in +me, and I will be true to my promise." + +"Wilt seal it with a kiss, then?" + +Morva was very chary of her kisses, but to-night she let him draw her +closer to him; while he pressed a passionate kiss upon her lips. There +was no answering fervour on her part, but she went so far as to smooth +back the thick hair which shaded his forehead and to press a light kiss +upon his brow. + +"Well done!" said Will, with a laugh, "that is the first time thou hast +ever given me a kiss of thine own accord. I must say, Morva; thou art +as sparing of thy kisses as if thou wert a princess. Well, lass, we +must part, for to-morrow I am going to Llaniago to see about my rooms, +and there's lots to do to-night, so good-bye." + +And once more holding her hand in his, he kissed her, and left her +standing behind the broom bushes. She passed out into the moonlight, +and walked slowly back over the moor with her head drooping, an unusual +thing for Morva, for from childhood she had had a habit of looking +upwards. Up there on the lonely moor, the vault of heaven with its +galaxy of stars, its blue ethereal depths, its flood of silver +moonlight, or its breadth of sunlit blue, seemed so closely to envelop +and embrace her that it was impossible to ignore it; but to-night she +looked only at the gossamer spangles on her path. + +"What did Will mean by 'We must part! Whatever thou mayst hear!'" and +she sighed a little wearily as she lifted the latch of the cottage door. + +"Morva sighing!" said Sara, who sat reading her chapter by the +fireside. "Don't begin that, 'merch i, or I must do the same. I would +never be happy, child, if thou wert not happy too; we are too closely +knit together." + +And she took the girl's strong, firm hand in her own, so frail, so +slender, and so soft. Morva's eyes filled with tears. + +"Mother, I am happy, I think. Why should I not be? They are all so +kind to me at Garthowen, and I love them all so much. I would lay my +life down for them, mother, and still be happy!" + +"Yes, child, I believe thou wouldst. Come to supper, the cawl is +ready." + +"Tis the cynos to-morrow night, mother, will I go?" + +"Yes, of course; I wouldn't have thee go to the cynos of any other +farm; there is too much foolishness going on." + +"Robin Davies, the sailor, is going to bring his fiddle, and there will +be fun, but Ann will not allow any foolishness." + +"No, no," said Sara, "she's a sensible girl, and going to be married to +Gwilym Morris too! that will be a happy thing for her I think." + +Morva was silent, following her own train of thoughts while she ate her +barley bread and drank her cawl, and when she broke the silence with a +remark about Will, to both women it came naturally, as the sequence of +their musings. + +"Will is going away to-morrow, mother." + +"Away to-morrow! so soon?" + +"Only for a day or two, I think." + +"Was that the meaning of the sigh then, Morva?" + +"I don't know," said the girl, pensively chasing a fly with her finger +on the table. "Oh, mother! I don't know, it is all a turmoil and +unrest of thoughts here," and she drew her hand over her forehead. + +"Well, never mind that, 'merch i, if it is rest and happiness _here_," +and Sara laid her finger on the region of Morva's heart. "Tell me +that, child; is it rest and love there?" + +"Oh! I don't know, mother; I don't know indeed, indeed." + +And then she did what Sara had scarcely ever seen her do since she had +"gone into long frocks and turned her hair up," she crossed her arms on +the table, and leaning her head upon them, she sobbed, and sobbed, and +sobbed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE CYNOS + +In the old grey mill in the gorge, which ran up the moor about half a +mile beyond Sara's cottage, there was a "sound of revelry by night," +for the Garthowen "cynos" was in full swing. It bid fair to be the +merriest, heartiest cynos of the year, and Jacob the miller was in his +element. + +As Morva came down the side of the moor after supper, the enlivening +sounds which greeted her ear hastened her steps and quickened the blood +in her veins. + +Will's absence, though unconsciously, was a relief to her, and in the +morning when, on rising, she had opened the cottage door, disclosing to +view all the charms of the autumn day, its glow of crimson bramble, its +glory of furze and heather, against the blue of the sea, her spirits +had risen with a bound, and the sadness of the evening before had at +once taken flight. For in the elasticity of youth, the hand of sorrow +has but to be removed for a moment and the flowers of hope and +happiness rise with unimpaired freshness and vigour; not so when age +draws near, then the heavy hand may be lifted, and the crushed flowers +of happiness may slowly revive and open once more, but there is a +bruise on the stem and a stain on the petals which remain. + +Ebben Owens and Ann had all day been busy with the preparations for the +cynos. Gethin's whistle came loud and clear from the brow of the hill. +It had been a happy day for every one, so Morva thought, knowing +nothing of the anxiety which her burst of sorrow on the previous +evening had awakened in her foster-mother's heart. Sara's love for her +adopted child, who had come to her when her mother's heart was crying +aloud in its bereavement, had in it not only tenderness deep as a +mother's, but also that keen intuition and sensitiveness to every +varying mood and feeling of the loved one, which is the bitter +prerogative of all true love. So, while Morva had gone singing to her +milking, Sara had walked in her herb garden, musing somewhat sadly. +There was neither sorrow nor anxiety in the girl's heart as she +hastened her steps down the side of the gorge. She saw the twinkling +light in the window of the old mill kitchen, she heard the trickling of +the stream, and the sound of laughter and merry voices which issued +from the wide open mill door. + +When she arrived there was Gethin busy with the sacks of corn, there +was the hot kiln upon which the grain would be roasted, while ranged +round it stood the benches which Jacob had prepared for the company. + +Already some of the young men and girls from the surrounding farms were +dropping in to share in the evening's amusement and work. Shan, the +miller's wife, was busy in the old kitchen with preparations for the +midnight meal. Ebben Owens had caused a small cask of beer to be +tapped, and Jacob was unremitting in his attentions to it during the +night. + +"Garthowen's is worth calling a cynos," he said. "He doesn't forget +how the flour gets into one's throat and makes one thirsty. I'm no +Blue Ribbonite, no, not I, nor intend to be, and that's why I try +always to make the Garthowen cynos a jolly one." + +"Yes, yes," said Shan, "you needn't trouble to tell me the reason; I +know it well now these many years." + +When Morva entered she was warmly greeted by all. The farm lads +particularly were loud in their welcome. + +"Come in, lass, where'st been lately? We haven't seen thee a long +time." + +"Well, indeed, I've been on the moor every day with the calves or the +sheep; they are grazing there now." + +Everyone said something except Gethin, who only glanced at her with a +smile and a sparkle of black eyes, for he had seen her many times +during the day, and he was already, according to the fashion of his +country, beginning to hide his love under an outward appearance of +stolid indifference; but this did not offend Morva, for it saved her +from the ordeal of curious eyes and broad comments, and Gethin felt +that the tender flower of love was well shielded from rude contact with +the outside world, by the secrecy behind which a Welshman hides his +love, for, in a hundred ways unnoticed and unseen by those around him, +there were opportunities of apprising the girl of his constant and +watchful interest. How sweet was the chance touch of her brown fingers +in the course of the mill work. If her eyes met his, which they did +not often, how easy it was to send a meaning glance from his own! how +delightful to sit beside her in the circle round the glowing kiln! + +Robin Davies and Neddy "Pandy" were late, so to beguile the time Jacob +struck up a merry tune, the whole company joining in the chorus. Song +after song followed each other, interspersed with stories, some of old +times and traditions, others of modern adventures at market or fair, +until at midnight they all adjourned to the mill kitchen, where Shan +had prepared the usual meal of steaming coffee with bread and butter. +There was bread of all sorts, from the brown barley loaf to the creamy, +curled oatcake, flanked by piles of the delicious tea-cakes for which +Pont-y-fro was noted. The men washed down their cakes with foaming +"blues" from the beer barrel. + +Robin Davies and Neddy "Pandy" arrived just in time for the coffee, and +when the meal was over they all returned to the kiln room, where the +air was filled with the aroma of the roasting corn. + +It was only at such gatherings as these that Neddy ever experienced the +full enjoyments of life, for he was a homeless wanderer from place to +place. + +Nature had been bountiful to him in the matter of bodily size and +strength, but she had not been correspondingly generous in her +allotment of mental capacities. No one knew anything of his parentage +or birthplace. Nobody cared sufficiently to inquire, and no one knew +of his weary hours of tramping over moor and mountain, led only by some +stray rumour of a fair or festive gathering, at which he might at least +for a few hours enjoy the pleasures of a "blue" of beer, a cheerful +greeting, and a seat in the chimney-corner, in return for a song, or a +turn at the "candle-dance," for which he was famous. He had called at +the old mill the week before, and Jacob had engaged his services for +the coming cynos. He had spent the day on board the _Speedwell_, where +Robin Davies was mate, and had had a good rest and a feast of music, +for Robin was a genius, and played his fiddle with wonderful taste and +skill, and Neddy, though wanting in many things, was behind no one in +his love for and appreciation of music. He was therefore unusually +bright and fresh when he arrived at the mill. He and Robin had walked +up all the way from Abersethin through the surf, carrying their shoes +under their arms. + +"'Twill freshen thy feet, and make them hard for the candles," said +Robin. + +Neddy's thin haggard face, surmounted by a thick crop of grizzled curly +hair, lighted up with pleasure as he felt the warm air of the roasting +room. + +"Here, sit down by the kiln, man," said Gethin, "and rest a bit before +thou begin'st." + +"Yes, and sing us 'Aderin pūr'," said Jacob, "'twill prepare the air +for the dancing." + +And Neddy struck up at once. He never required pressing, for his songs +seemed always on his lips. He sang his ballads as he passed through +the country towns and villages, and the people came out and pressed +pennies into his hand, or invited him into their houses for a rest, a +hunch of bread and cheese, or a bowl of cawl; and he sang as he tramped +over the lonely hillsides, sometimes weary and faint enough, but still +singing; and when at night he retired to rest in some hay-loft or barn, +or perhaps alone under the starry night sky, he was wont to sing +himself to sleep, as he had done when a child in the old homestead of +which nobody knew. + +When he began the words of the song so sweet to every Welshman's ear: + + "Oh! lovely bird with azure wing + Wilt bear my message to her?" + +every ear was intent upon the melody, and as the rich sonorous voice +carried it on through its first fervid strains of love, to the +imploring cadences of the ending, heads and hands beat time, eyes +glistened, humid with feeling, and when the song had come to an end, +there was a breathless silence and a sigh of satisfaction. + +"There's lovely it is! Sing us again, Neddy bāch." + +And Neddy sang again the song of the red-cheeked little prince, who +slept in his golden cradle, a red-cheeked apple in his hand. It was +but a simple nursery rhyme, but Neddy put his soul into it, for he was +but a child himself in spite of his tall stature and grizzled locks. + +Morva was sitting on the steps which led up to the rickety, windy loft, +Gethin beside her on an upturned barrow. + +"I might go on with my knitting," said the girl, "if somebody would +hold my skein for me to wind." + +Gethin held it, of course; and while the ball increased in size there +was plenty of time and opportunity for talk, which was interrupted by +Robin's fiddle striking up a merry jig time. Wool and ball were laid +aside, while Ann placed six lighted candles on the floor--four in the +centre and one at each end, with space enough between them for the +figures of the dance. + +Neddy listened a few moments, seemingly to get the rhythm well into his +mind; then starting up, and flinging his heavy shoes aside, he took his +place at the end of the space cleared for him, his ragged corduroy +trousers hanging in tatters round his bare ankles. With his thumbs in +the armholes of his waistcoat, he began the dance, singing all the time +an old refrain descriptive of its measure; keeping at a little distance +from the group of candles, but gradually approaching nearer and nearer, +and at length flinging his bare feet around the flaring lights. Round +them and over them, in between them and outside them, until it was a +mystery how the bare feet were not burnt and the ragged trousers did +not catch fire. Over and over again he stopped for breath, until the +loud stamping of feet and cries of applause, in which Tudor joined +vociferously, encouraged him to begin again. The music waxed faster +and faster, and Neddy danced with more marvellous rapidity, until he +seemed to lose himself in the intricate mazes of the dance. He was +pale, and beads of perspiration stood on his forehead, when at last, +with a trick of his bare foot, he extinguished every light, and +staggered to his seat in the corner by the kiln. + +"Hooray, Neddy! as good as ever he was! Well done, bāchgen! fetch him +a 'blue.'" + +And Neddy, triumphant and thoroughly enjoying the cheering and _éclat_ +of his exploit, leant back panting to recover himself. + +"The corn! The corn!" said Ann, turning to the roasting-pan over the +kiln. "We mustn't forget that with our dancing and our singing, and +thee mustn't have another 'blue' yet, Neddy." + +"Oh, indeed 'tis wonderful!" said Morva. + +"Yes, 'tis a pretty dance indeed," said Gethin, "and something like the +sailor's hornpipe we used to dance on board ship sometimes." + +"Canst dance?" said the girl, with wide-open eyes of intense interest. + +"Well, yes--I was considered to have a pretty good foot for a fling." + +"Oh, dance!" said Morva, clasping her hands, "Ann, Ann, Gethin can +dance!" + +"But not in these boots," he said. + +"Oh, Gethin, try!" said his sister. + +"Well, if I had my shoes. Run, Grif, to Garthowen and fetch them." + +And in a short time the boy returned, bringing Gethin's best Sunday +shoes under his arm. + +The floor was cleared again, and everybody watched eagerly while the +sailor took his stand, with arms folded across his chest and head well +thrown back. + +"Now, Robin, a jig tune for me." + +"Yes, yes, the sailor's hornpipe proper," said Robin; and he struck up +the time with spirit, and Gethin began the dance with equal vigour. + +The company looked on with breathless admiration, Neddy with critical +nods of approval; but Morva's delight was indescribable. With +eagerness like a child's she followed every dash, every scrape, and +every fling of the dance, and when it was ended, and Gethin returned, +laughing and panting, to his seat on the barrow, alas! alas! he had +danced into her very heart. + +"Oh! there's handsome he is!" said Magw, the dairymaid, with a sigh; +and Morva echoed the sentiment, though she did not give it utterance. + +"Yes, 'twas very well," said Neddy; "but thee couldn't do it if thou +hadst the candles." + +"That I couldn't, Neddy; nobody but thee could," and the old man was +quite satisfied. + +In the early grey of the morning the stray visitors dropped off one by +one, and Neddy, having slept for an hour in his cosy corner, shook +himself awake and betook himself, crooning an old song, once more to +his solitary rambles over the hills. It was not until the sun had well +risen, and the whole remaining party had breakfasted together in the +mill kitchen, that the Garthowen household returned home, leading with +them the lumbering blue and scarlet carts, laden with the sacks of meal +sufficient for the coming year, Tudor following the procession with the +air of a dog who congratulates himself upon having brought affairs to a +satisfactory conclusion. Ebben Owens was already up to receive them, +the big oak coffers in the grain room were swept out, the dry meal +poured into them, and Twm the carter, with white cotton stockings kept +for the occasion drawn over his feet and legs, stood in the coffers +treading the meal into as hard a mass as possible. When they were full +to the brim the heavy lids were closed with a snap, and the Garthowen +cynos was over for the year. Afterwards the work of the farm went on +as usual, but there were many surreptitious naps taken during the day, +in hay loft or barn, or behind some sunny hedgerow or stack. + +Gwilym Morris and Will did not return that day, as had been expected. + +"Wilt stay a little later, Morva?" said Ann; "they may come by the +carrier at seven o'clock, and I will want to prepare supper for them." + +Morva's heart sank, but she made no outward sign; she had been full of +restless excitement all day, and had looked forward to the quiet of the +cottage under the furze bank, and to Sara's soothing company. + +All day she had been haunted by the memory of the sailor's hornpipe, +Gethin's flashing eyes, his handsome person, his supple limbs! She +tried to banish the vision and to turn her thoughts to Will, but found +it impossible! and she went about her work in a dream of happiness, +unwillingly recalling every word that Gethin had spoken, every hidden +compliment, and every look of tenderness. She avoided him when he +returned from the fields at midday, she trembled and blushed at the +sound of his name, and when he came home in the evening to his supper +she feigned some excuse and was absent from the evening meal; but when +at last Will's return was despaired of, and Morva took her way round +the Cribserth towards home, Gethin, no longer to be baulked, followed +her with rapid steps, and caught her up just as she turned the rugged +edge of the ridge. + +"Morva!" he called, and she turned at once and stood facing him in the +light of the full moon. + +She bent her head a little and let her arms fall at her sides, standing +like a culprit before his accuser. The attitude pained Gethin, whose +whole being was overflowing with tenderness. + +"Morva, lass! what is the matter? Where art going? Art running away +from _me_?" + +The girl raised her eyes to his, and in a low but firm voice answered, +"Yes." + +"Why? Why?" he asked, and taking her hands hastily he drew her away +from the path, and down to the shadow of a broom bush on the cliff side. + +She remembered it was the very bush behind which she had met Will two +evenings before. For a moment they were silent, both feeling too +agitated to speak. Beyond the shadow of the bushes the world lay +silent in the mellow moonlight, a soft breathing stole up to them from +the heaving sea below, a whispering breeze played on their faces, and +through it all the insidious glamour of the dance, which had enchanted +the simple rustic girl, wove like a silver thread. + +"Morva," he said at last, pressing the hand which he held in his, "thou +knowest well what I want to say. If I had learning like Will's now, I +would not be hunting for words like this, but indeed, lass, I am fair +doited with love of thee. Answer me, dost love me too? I think, +Morva," and he drew her closer, "I think thou dost not hate me?" + +"Oh, no," she whispered, "but--but--" and she slowly endeavoured to +withdraw from his detaining grasp, "but, Gethin, I am promised to Will." + +"What? What didst say, girl?" said Gethin, in an agitated voice. +"Thou hast promised to marry Will?" + +There was a long pause of silence, during which the lapping of the +waves on the beach, the rustle of the leaves in the bushes, together +with their own fluttering breaths, were distinctly audible. + +"Didst say that, Morva?" + +"Yes, indeed, 'tis true," said the girl, in a low voice. + +"But--but does Will love thee?" + +"Yes, he loves me," answered Morva sadly, but steadily, "and I love +him, and I must listen to no other man, for I have promised him." + +"Promised him! when?" said Gethin, trying to steady his voice. + +"Oh, many times, many times; two nights ago, here, under this very +broom bush, I promised to be true and unchangeable." + +"Is this true indeed, then? Hast promised thyself away from me?" said +Gethin, looking round as if dazed and stunned. + +"Yes," she answered again, in a low voice. "Will asked me if I loved +him, and I said 'Yes, I love thee with all my heart, and I love +everyone at Garthowen the same, and would willingly give my life for +them.'" + +"And what did he say to that?" asked Gethin in a scornful tone. + +"He said, 'twas right I should feel like that, for they had all been +kind to me, ever since the sea cast me up here, a little helpless baby; +and he said 'twould ill repay their kindness to break his heart." + +Gethin snatched at her hand hungrily. + +"Will I tell thee, lass, what I would have answered if I had been Will? +I would have said, 'Love me, Morva, _more_ than all the others at +Garthowen; love me more than all the world beside; love me as I love +thee, girl! Nothing less will satisfy me; no riches, no worldly goods, +no joy, no happiness will be of any account to me if I have not all thy +love.'" + +"Stop, Gethin, stop," said Morva, turning away. + +But Gethin continued, still detaining her hands in his, "That is what I +would have said, Morva, if I were Will. Canst say nothing to me, lass?" + +Morva had turned her face to the broom bush, and was sobbing with her +apron to her eyes. + +"Why didst thou promise him?" Gethin said again, in a fierce tone. + +"I promised him when I was a little girl, and ever since, whenever he +has asked me, I have said, 'Oh, Will, there is no need to say more, for +I have promised,'" and she turned slowly to move away; but Gethin drew +her back. + +"Thou shalt not go," he said; "I cannot live without thee; all through +the long years I too have loved thee, Morva, ever since that day when I +tore myself from thy clinging arms and heard thee crying after me; but +because I was away, and could not tell thee of my love, I have lost +thee." + +"I have promised," was all her answer. + +"Well, then, I suppose there is nothing else to be said, and I must +live without thee; but 'twill be hard, very hard, lass. I thought--I +thought--but there; what's the use of thinking? I suppose I must say +'Good-bye.' Wilt give me one kiss before we part? No? Well, indeed, +an unwilling kiss from Morva would kill me, so fforwel, lass! At least +shake hands." + +Morva turned towards him, placing her hand in his, and by the bright +moonlight he saw her face was very pale. + +"Fforwel!" he said once more, and dropping her hand, he left her +suddenly, standing alone under the night sky. She looked after him +until he had passed round the Cribserth, and then turned homewards with +a heavier heart than she had ever borne before. + +"'As the sparks fly upward!'" she whispered, as she reached the cottage +door, "Yes, mother was right, 'as the sparks fly upward!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +UNREST + +"Ach y fi!" said Ann one day as the autumn slipped by, "only a week +before Will goes; there's dull it will be without him!" + +"Twt, twt!" said Will, tossing his tawny mane, "'twill only be for +three months. Christmas will be here directly, and I will be home then +for the holidays--vacation, I mean." + +"Vacation; is that what they call it? Dear! dear! we must mind our +words now with a college man among us." + +Gethin seldom came into the house; from morning to night he worked hard +on the farm, and his father was obliged to confess that, after all his +roving, he showed more aptitude for steady work than Will did. When he +did enter the house, it was only to take his meals hurriedly and +silently, and if by chance he encountered Morva, as was unavoidable +sometimes in the day's work, he was careful not to look at her. The +girl, though conscious of his change of manner, showed no outward sign +of the acute suffering she was undergoing. Her whole life seemed +upturned, full of discordant elements and strained relations. To bear +Will's apparent indifference was not difficult, for she had been +accustomed to that all her life; but to know that she was bound to +him--that he still loved her, and would carry with him his faith and +trust in her, was a heavy burden. The change in Gethin's manner, the +averted look, the avoidance of her, the formal question or request, +were positively so many sharp thorns that pierced her like some +tangible weapon, and added to this was a deep regret that she was so +unworthy of Will's love. He did not ask her to meet him again behind +the broom bushes, and only one night in the old beudy,[1] where she had +carried a pail of grain to a sick cow, had he tried to speak to her +alone. Gethin, who watched his brother with eager interest, was +astonished at the indifference he showed towards her. + +Surely they must meet somewhere secretly! Well, what was it to him? +What was anything to him? For Morva's love he would willingly have +laid down his life; but now that that was denied him, nothing else was +of any consequence; and in troubled thought he sauntered out to cross +the farmyard on his way to Pont-y-fro. The moor beyond the Cribserth +he avoided carefully, and when his work led him along the brow of the +hill, he tried to avert his eyes as well as his thoughts from its +undulating knolls, a background, against which memory would picture a +winsome girl, red-cloaked and blue-kilted. + +Will had preceded him about a quarter of an hour, and had found Morva +pensively holding the empty pail before the cow, who had eaten up the +grain, and was licking round in search of more; she did not see him +until he was close upon her, and then she started from her dreams. + +"Oh, Will!" she said, and nothing more. + +"I wanted to see thee once more, lass, to say good-bye, and to remind +thee of thy promise." + +"You will be back before Christmas, Will, and we will be together +again." + +"Yes," he answered, "and then we must manage to meet sometimes, for I +find I cannot live without thee. I cannot break away from thee +entirely; but we must be careful, very, very careful. I would not have +anyone suspect our courtship for all the world. Thou wilt keep my +secret, Morva?" + +"Yes," she said wearily. + +"Come, cheer up, lass, 'twill soon be over. A year or two and I will +have a home for thee--I know I will. And now good-bye, I hear +footsteps. Good-bye, Morva." + +He clasped her once to his heart, and whispered a word of endearment in +her ear; but she stood like a statue, and only answered "Good-bye," and +even that he did not hear, for he had already slipped away, and by a +circuitous path reached the house. + +Crossing the farmyard, Gethin's approaching footsteps made but little +sound on the soft stubble; and Morva, thinking herself quite alone, +stood leaning just within the doorway, crying softly in the darkness, +for the flaring candle had gone out. + +"Who is there?" said Gethin. + +There was no answer, Morva checking her sobs, and standing perfectly +still. + +"Morva, is it thee crying here by thyself? What is it? Tell me, +child." + +"Oh! nothing," said the girl. "Only Will has been here." + +"Oh! I see," said Gethin bitterly, "to bid thee fforwel, I suppose. +Well, it won't be for long; he will be back soon, and then thou wilt be +happy, Morva." + +"Gethin, thee must promise me one thing." + +"And what is that?" he said. + +"Never to tell anyone what I told thee over yonder beyond the +Cribserth. Will wants it to be a secret." + +"Fear nothing," said Gethin, "I will never tell tales. Gethin Owens +has not many good qualities, but he has one, and that is, he would +never betray a trust, so be easy, Morva. I am going to Pont-y-fro. +Good-night!" + +"Good-night," echoed the girl, and, taking up her pail, she closed the +beudy door, and as she crossed the yard under the bright starlight she +recalled Gethin's parting words, "Be easy, Morva," and repeated them to +herself with a sorrowful smile. + + * * * * * * + +"'Tis Martinmas Fair to-morrow," said Ann, as Morva entered the best +kitchen. "Are you going, father?" + +"Yes," he said. "I have those yearlings to sell." + +"I will come with you," said Gwilym Morris, for they seldom let the old +man go alone. "I can see about Will's coat, and I want some books. +Come on, Ann, come with us; 'twill be a lively fair, I think." + +"Very well, I'll come and look after you both." + +"That's right," said the old man, rubbing his knees. "Twm will drive +the yearlings. Art coming, Will?" + +"No," he answered, "I have promised to go to Caer-Madoc to-morrow." + +And so Garthowen was empty next day, for Gethin did not return to the +midday meal. Morva, as usual in Ann's absence, took charge of the +house, and very sad and lonely she felt as she roamed from one room to +another, dusting a chair or table occasionally, and looking out through +the windows at the dull, leaden sea, for outside, too, the clouds were +gathering, and the wind whispered threatenings of change. + +Three nights ago! Was it possible? So lately as that was she bright +and happy, and was the world around her so full of light and warmth? + +She leant her elbows on the deep window-sill and mused. How long ago, +too, it seemed since she had taken down the old Bible and hunted up +Gethin's delinquencies. She saw it now in her mind's eye, and, getting +upon the table, she reached it down again, and turned to the disfigured +page. + +Now she knew how little harm there had been in those foolish, boyish +rhymes; now she knew the bright black eyes which had guided the pen in +those brown fingers were full of nothing but mischief. "Oh, no! no +harm," she said, "only fun and mischief." She read the lines again, +and a sad little smile came over her mouth, then she looked at the +signatures below. "Gethin Owens, Garthowen." "G. O." "Gethin." She +half-closed the old book, and then, with a furtive glance round the +room and through the window, opened it again, and, stooping down, +pressed her lips on the name, then, blushing a vivid red, she mounted +the table once more and replaced the Bible. + +It was a long, weary day, but it came at last to a close. She made up +the fire, prepared the tea, with piles of buttered toast and new-laid +eggs in plenty, and soon the jingling car drove into the farmyard, +Gwilym Morris lifting Ann bodily out, and both assisting the old man +with tender care, Morva hovering round. She was to sleep at the farm +that night in order to be ready for the early churning next day, so +when they were all seated at the tea-table she left the house with the +intention of seeing if Sara required any help. + +"I will be back before supper," she said, and hurried homewards over +the moor, where the wind was rising and sighing in the broom bushes. +The clouds were hurrying up from the north-west, and threatening to +overcast the pale evening sky, quivering flocks of fieldfares whirred +over her, and the gold and purple were fast losing their brilliant +tints. As she neared the cottage in the darkening twilight, a patch of +scarlet caught her eye, and a warm glow of comfort rushed into her +heart. It was Sara's red mantle and she knew the faithful heart was +waiting for her. + +"The dear old mother," she said, and hastening her footsteps soon +reached Sara, who stood leaning on her stick and peering over the moor. + +"Here I am, mother!" she said, as cheerfully as she could. + +"'Merch fāch i!" said Sara tenderly, and they turned into the cottage +together. + +The tea was laid on the little round table in the chimney corner. + +"Did you expect me, then, mother?" + +"Yes; I thought thou wouldst come, child, to see how I fared as thou +art sleeping there to-night," and sitting down together they chatted +over their tea. + +At Garthowen there was much chat going on, too. Ebben Owens had not +sold his yearlings. + +"I wasn't going to give them away for half price, not I!" he said. +"I'd rather keep them till next fair." So Twm had driven them home +again, and was even now turning them into the old cowhouse. + +"Well! I have a wonderful piece of news to give you all," said Gwilym +Morris, leaning back in his chair and diving deep into his pocket. +Having pulled out a canvas bag he laid it triumphantly on the table +with a bang. + +"What is it?" said all, in a breath. + +Gwilym did not answer, but undoing the pink tape which tied it, he +poured out on the table forty glittering sovereigns. + +"There!" he said, "what do you think; old Tim 'Penlau' paid me the 40 +pounds he has owed me so long!" + +"Well, wonders will never cease!" said Ebben Owens. + +"How long has he had them?" asked Will. + +"Oh! these years and years. I had quite given them up, but he was +always promising that when he sold his farm he would repay me. Now +they have come just in time to furnish the new house, Ann." + +"But why didn't you put them into the bank?" asked Will. + +"'Twas too late, the bank was closed; but I will take them in +to-morrow." + +"I saw you talking to Gryny Lewis in the market," said Ebben Owens. +"What were you saying to him? You weren't such a fool as to tell him +you had received the 40 pounds?" + +"Well, yes, indeed I did," replied Gwilym. + +"Well, I wouldn't tell him. Don't forget how he stole from Jos +Hughes's till." + +"Well, indeed, I never remembered that. Oh, I'll take care of them," +he said, tying them once more in his bag, and returning them to his +pocket. "I'll put them in my drawer to-night, and to-morrow I'll take +them to the bank." + +When Morva returned they were still discussing the preacher's good +fortune in the recovery of the loan which he had almost despaired of. + +"Oh, there's glad I am!" said the girl; and Gethin put in a word of +congratulation as he sauntered out to take a last look at the horses. + +Long before ten the whole household had retired for the night. Ann and +Morva slept in a small room on the first landing, just beyond which, up +two steps, ran a long passage, into which the other bedrooms opened. + +Morva, who generally found the handmaid of sleep waiting beside her +pillow, missed her to-night. Hour after hour she lay silent and +open-eyed, vainly endeavouring to follow Ann into the realms of +dreamland. + +Tudor, too, who usually slept quietly in his kennel, seemed disturbed +and restless, and filled the air with mournful howling. + +The girl was in that cruellest of all stages of sorrow, when the mind +has but half grasped the meaning of its trouble. She had no name for +the deep longing which rebelled in her heart against the fate that was +closing her in; for she had as yet scarcely confessed to herself that +her whole being turned towards Gethin as the flower to the sun, and +that in her breast, so long calm and unruffled as the pools in the +boggy moor, was growing as strong a repulsion for one brother as love +for the other. And as she lay quietly on her pillow, endeavouring not +to disturb her companion's rest, a tide of sorrowful regrets swept over +her, even as outside, under the shifting moonlight, the bay, yesterday +so calm, was torn and tossed by the rising north-west wind. Through +all, and interwoven even with her bitter grief, was the memory of that +happy night--surely long ago?--when she had sat in the warm air of the +cynos, and Gethin had danced into her heart. Oh, the pity of it! such +love to be offered her, and to be thrust aside! "That is what I would +say if I were Will!" And all night every sorrowful longing, every +endeavour after resignation, every prayer for strength, ended with the +same refrain, "If he were Will! if he were Will!" + +Tick, tack, tick, tack! the old clock filled the night air with its +measured beat. "Surely it does not tick so loudly in the day?" she +thought. + +Ten, eleven, and twelve had struck, and still Morva lay wakeful, with +wide-open eyes, watching the hurrying clouds. At last she slept for an +hour or two, and her uninterrupted breathing showed that the +invigorating sleep of youth had at length fallen upon her weary +eyelids. For an hour or two she slept, but at last she suddenly +stirred, and in a moment was wide awake, with every sense strained to +the utmost. + +What had awakened her she could not tell. She was conscious only of an +eager and thrilling expectancy. + +She was about to relapse into slumber when a gliding sound caught her +ear, and in a moment she was listening again, with all her senses +alert. Was it fancy? or was there a soft footfall, and a sound as of a +hand drawn over the whitewashed wall of the passage? A board creaked, +and Morva sat up, and strained her ears to listen. After a stillness +of some moments, again there was the soft footfall and the gliding hand +on the wall. She rose and quietly crept into the passage just in time +to see a dark figure entering the preacher's room. + +Who could it be? + +Intense curiosity was the feeling uppermost in her mind, and this alone +prevented her calling Ann. Standing a few moments in breathless +silence, she heard the slow opening of a drawer; another pause of eager +listening, while the stealthy footsteps seemed to be returning towards +the doorway. + +At this moment the moon emerged from behind a cloud, and in her light +Morva saw a sight which astonished her, for coming from the preacher's +room a well-known form stood plainly revealed. It was Gethin! and the +girl shrank a little into the shadow of a doorway. But her precaution +was needless, for he walked as if dazed or asleep, and with unsteady +footstep seemed to stagger as he hurriedly gained his own room. + +Morva, frightened and wondering, returned to bed, and if the early +hours of the night had been disturbed and restless, those which +followed were still more so. + +What could it mean? What could Gethin want in Gwilym's room? She had +thought it was a thief, and if not a thief what was the meaning of +those stealthy footsteps and the opening of the drawer? and full of +unrest she lay awake listening to the ticking of the clock, and to +Tudor's continued howling. Should she wake Ann? No! for Gethin had +evidently desired secrecy, and she would not be the one to frustrate +his intentions, for whatever might be the object of his secret visit to +the preacher's room, she never doubted but that it was right and +honourable. + +All night she lay in troubled thought, rising many times to look +through the ivy-framed window towards the eastern brow of the slopes. +At length the pale dawn drew near, and Morva slept a heavy dreamless +sleep, which lasted till Ann called her for the churning. + + + +[1] Cowhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SARA'S VISION + +"Morva, lass," said Ann, "what's the matter to-day? No breakfast; +after thy work at the churn, too?" + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, "I drank so much butter milk that I don't +want much breakfast." + +"Come, lass," said Ebben Owens, "hard work wants good feeding." + +"Well," said Ann, "you are not eating much yourself. Did you sleep +well, father?" + +"Yes, of course," said the old man; "I always sleep like a top. Here's +Will; he'll satisfy thee in the eating line, whatever." + +"Yes; especially when there's fresh butter and new bread," said Will, +sitting down and cutting a thick slice for himself. "What was the +matter with Tudor last night? He was howling all night. Did you hear +him, father?" + +"Not I. 'Twas the moonlight, I suppose. Dogs often howl on a +moonlight night." + +"Tudor doesn't," said Ann. "I'm glad I didn't hear him, ach y fi! I +don't like it at all. But where's Gwilym and Gethin? There's late +they are." + +At this moment the former entered and took his seat silently at the +table, looking pale and flurried. + +"Where can Gethin be?" said Ann again; "not back from the mountain?" +and Magw was sent to the top of the garden to call him, which she did +with such stentorian tones that his name flew backwards and forwards +across the valley, but no Gethin came. + +Breakfast over, the big Bible was placed before Ebben Owens as usual, +and all the farm servants assembled for prayers. When they rose from +their knees and the wooden shoes had clattered out of the kitchen, +Gwilym said, as he drew his chair to the table: + +"Ann, we must wait a little longer for our furniture. My bag of +sovereigns is gone!" + +"Gone?" echoed everyone, and Morva, who was putting away the Bible, +turned white with a deadly fear, which seemed to freeze the blood in +her veins. In the excitement of the moment her change of countenance +escaped the notice of the other members of the family. + +"Gone," said Will, "gone where? What do you mean, man? Stolen?" + +"Yes, no doubt, for the window and the drawer were open." + +"The window?" said Ebben Owens. "Then the thief must have come in that +way." + +"And gone out, too, I suppose," said Gwilym. + +"Tis that devil, Gryffy Lewis," said Will. "He could easily creep up +from his cottage. You ought not to have told him." + +"No, I ought not," said the preacher; "but, indeed, I was so glad of +the money and to find that Tim 'Penlau' was honest after all our +doubts, and Gryffy Lewis seemed as glad as I was." + +"The deceitful blackguard!" said Ebben Owens. + +"Well, we don't know it was he after all," suggested Gwilym. "Poor +man, we must not blame him till we are certain. I hoped and believed +that he had taken a turn for the better, and this would be a dreadful +blow to me." + +"Blow to you!" said Will excitedly. "I'll go to Castell On for a +policeman, and it'll be a blow to Gryffy when he feels the handcuffs on +his wrists." + +"No--no," said Gwilym Morris, "that I will never allow." For in his +daily life the preacher carried out his Master's teaching in its +spirit, and forgave unto seventy times seven, and with curious +inconsistency abhorred the relentless anger which on Sundays in the +pulpit he unconsciously ascribed to the God whom he worshipped. "No, +let him have the money, it will bring its own punishment, poor fellow! +I have lived long enough without it, and can do without it still, only +poor Ann won't have mahogany chairs and a shining black sofa in her +parlour--deal must do instead." + +"Deal will do very well," said Ann soothingly, + +"Well," said Ebben Owens, "you take your trouble like a Christian, +Gwilym." + +"Like a Christian!" said Will. "Like a madman I call it! I think you +owe it to everyone in the house, Gwilym, to send for a policeman and +have the matter cleared up." + +"It wouldn't do," said Ebben, "to charge Gryffy without any proofs, so +we had better hush it up and say nothing about it before the servants." + +"Yes, that is the best plan," said the preacher, "and perhaps in time +and by kindness I can turn Gryffy's mind to repentance and to returning +the money." + +"But where's Gethin this morning?" inquired Will. "I hope nothing has +happened to Bowler." + +The morning hours slipped by, and yet Gethin did not appear. At dinner +in the farm kitchen there were inquiries and comments, but nobody knew +anything of the absent one. + +In the best kitchen the meal was partaken of in silence, a heavy cloud +hung over the household, and terrible doubts clutched at their hearts, +but no one spoke his fears. When, however, the shades of evening were +closing in, and neither on moor nor meadow, in stable nor yard, was +Gethin to be seen, a dreadful certainty fell upon them. It was too +evident that he had disappeared from the haunts of Garthowen. Will +swore under his breath, Gwilym Morris was even more tender than usual +to every member of the family, and Ebben Owens went about the farm with +a hard look on his face, and a red spot on each cheek, but nobody said +anything more about sending for a policeman. Ann cried herself to +sleep that night. Morva went home to her mother, white and dry-eyed, +her mind full of anxious questioning, her heart sinking with sorrow. + +Sara held out her wrinkled hand towards her. + +"Come, 'merch fāch i, 'tis trouble, I know; but what is it, lass?" + +"Oh, mother, 'tis too dreadful to think of! How can such things be? +You say the spirits come and talk to you, they never come to me; ask +them to be kind to me, too, and to take me to themselves, for this +world is too full of cruel thorns!" + +Sara's kind eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh! that I could bear thy sorrow for thee, my little girl; but it is +one of the thorns of life that we cannot raise the burden of sorrows +from our dear ones and bind it on our own shoulders. God alone can +help thee, my child." + +"Mother, do you know what has happened?" + +"Yes," said the old woman. "I was quite failing to sleep last night, +so I got up and lighted the fire, and I read a chapter sitting here on +the settle. After I had read, looking I was at the flames and the +sparks that flew upwards, and a vision came before me. I was at +Garthowen in the dark, I saw a figure creeping quietly into a room; it +was a man, but I could not recognise him. He opened a drawer, and took +something out of it, and I did not see anything more. When I awoke the +fire had gone out, and I was very cold, so I went back to bed, and +slept heavily all night, and when I awoke this morning I knew thou +wouldst come to me in sorrow and fright." + +"Well, mother, can you gather some comfort from your vision? Oh! tell +me the meaning of it all. What did Gethin want in Gwilym's room?" + +"Gethin?" said Sara, in astonishment, "in Gwilym Morris's room!" + +"Yes, I saw him; and from there a bag of sovereigns has been stolen. +He has gone away without a word to anyone, and I know they all think +that he has done this dreadful thing? but I will _not_ believe it, +never! never! never!" + +"No, it is all dark, but one thing is plain to me and thee, Gethin did +not do this shameful thing. Let me be, child, and perhaps it will all +come before me again, or perhaps Gethin will come back. I know, +whatever, that my message to thee is Gethin is not guilty of this +wickedness." + +"Mother, I believe you," said the girl; "and though all the world +should swear it was Gethin, I should know better, for you know, mother. +We only see with our bodily eyes, but your spirit sees. Mother, I know +it--but he is gone! What is the meaning of that; he is gone like the +mist of the morning--like a dream of the night, and he will never +return, and if he did return it could never be anything to me!" + +And leaning on the table as she had done once before, her face buried +on her arms, she sobbed unrestrainedly, Sara sitting by her and crying +in sympathy. + +All day they discussed the unhappy event. + +"Who did it, mother? and why did Gethin go away?" + +"I don't know," said the old woman. "I shall never know perhaps who +did it, but I know it was not Gethin." + +"Why did I see him, mother? I awoke suddenly and went into the +passage, and there he was. I wish I had slept sounder, for that sight +will always be on my mind. When we came down to breakfast he was gone, +and every one will think he stole the money. Forty sovereigns, mother! +Will he ever come back and clear it up?" + +"Some day it will be plain, but now we must be satisfied to know it was +not Gethin." + +"No one else will believe us, mother." + +"Oh! I am used to that," said the old woman, with a patient smile; +"that makes no difference in God's plans. Thou must pluck up thy +heart, and have courage, child, for there is a long life before thee. +A dark cloud is shading thy path now, but 'twill pass away, and thou +wilt be happy again." + +"Never! unless Gethin comes back to clear his name. Oh! 'tis a cold +grey world. Only here with you, mother, is the comfort of love. When +I draw near the cottage I look out for your red mantle, and if I see +it, it sends a warm glow through me." + +And so they talked until, as the twilight gathered round them, Morva +said: + +"I must go; the cows must be milked. Poor Garthowen is a sad house +to-day! I wish I could comfort them a little, but 'tis all dark." + +And as she crossed the moor to the Cribserth, she looked round her, but +found no shred of comfort. The sea, all rough and torn by the high +wind, looked cold and cruel; the brow of the hill, which Gethin's +whistle had so often enlivened, looked bare and uninteresting; the moor +had lost its gorgeous tints; a rock pigeon, endeavouring to reach its +nest, was driven by the wind against a thorn bush. + +"Tis pricked and beaten like me," thought the girl, and struggling with +the high wind, she helped the bird with tender fingers to extricate +himself. + +When she entered the farmyard Daisy stood waiting, and Morva, knowing +that without her song there would be no milk, began the old refrain, +but her voice broke, and while she sang with trembling lips the tears +ran down her cheeks. + +The news of Gethin's absence was soon bruited abroad, and many were the +conjectures as to its cause. + +"He seemed so jolly at the cynos," said the farm servants; "who'd have +thought his heart was away with the shipping and the foreign ports?" + +"Well, well," said the farmers, "Garthowen will have to do without +Gethin Owens, that's plain; the roving spirit is in him still, and +Ebben Owens will have to look alive, with only Ann and Gwilym Morris to +help him." + +"Well, he needn't be so proud, then! Will a clergyman indeed! 'tis at +home at the plough I'd keep him!" + +But nobody knew anything of the robbery, which added so much poignancy +to the sorrow at Garthowen. Ebben Owens seemed to take his son's +disappearance much to heart, and to feel his absence more in sorrow +than in anger. + +Will grew more and more irritable, so that it was almost a relief when +one day in the following week he took his departure for Llaniago, his +father accompanying him in the car, and returning next day with glowing +accounts of his son's introduction to the world of learning and +collegiate life. + +"If you were to see him in his cap and gown!" he said, "oh, there's a +gentleman he looks; in my deed there wasn't one in the whole college so +handsome as our Will! so straight and so tall, and everybody noticing +him." + +And so Will was launched on the voyage of clerical life with full sails +and colours flying, while Gethin was allowed to sink into oblivion; his +name was never mentioned, his place knew him no more, and the tide of +life flowed on at Garthowen with the outward monotonous peace and +regularity common to all farm life. Ebben Owens leant more on Gwilym +and Ann, and Twm took his own way more, but further than this there was +no difference in the daily routine of work. + +The grey house at Brynseion was nearing completion, but Ann put off her +marriage again and again, and even hinted at the desirability of +breaking off her engagement entirely, unless it could be arranged for +her and her husband to live on at Garthowen, and let the grey house to +somebody else. + +"Well!" said Gwilym, "'tis for you and your father to settle that. I +will be happy with you anywhere, Ann, and I see it is impossible for +you to leave the old man while both his sons are away; so do as you +wish, 'merch i, only don't keep me waiting any longer." + +And so it was settled, and Ann sat down to indite a letter to Will in +the fine pointed handwriting which she had learnt during her year of +boarding-school at Caer-Madoc, fine and pointed and square, like a row +of gates, with many capitals and no stops. The letter informed her +brother with much formality, "that having known Gwilym Morris for many +years, he and she had now decided to enter upon the matrimonal state. +Our father and mother," she continued, "having been married in Capel +Mair at Castell On, I have a strong wish to be married in the same +place, and Gwilym consents to my wish. We will fix our wedding for +some day after your return from Llaniago at Christmas, as we would like +you to be present as well as my father. Elinor Jones of Betheyron will +be my bridesmaid, and Morva and Gryffy Jones will be the only others at +the wedding." + +By return of post Will's answer came, requesting them not to count upon +him, as he might accept the invitation of a friend to spend part of his +vacation with him. "In any case," he added, "it would scarcely look +well for a candidate for Holy Orders in the Church of England to attend +a service in a dissenting chapel." + +Gwilym Morris folded the letter slowly, and returned it to Ann without +a word. + +"Well, well!" said Ebben Owens, "'tis disappointing, but Will knows +best; no doubt he's right, and thee must find someone else, Ann. I +wish Gethin was here," the old man said, with a sigh. + +It was strange, Ann thought, how tenderly and wistfully he longed for +Gethin, once so little cared for; and as the memory of the sinister +event which she believed caused his absence crossed her mind she +coloured with shame. + +"Oh, father," she said, clasping her hands. "Poor Gethin! how could I +have him at my wedding? I never thought one of our family could be +dishonest." + +"Nor I--nor I, indeed!" said Ebben Owens, shaking his head sorrowfully. + +"It is too plain, isn't it?" said Ann, "going away like that--oh! to +think our Gethin was a thief!" and throwing her apron over her face she +burst into a fit of sobbing, a thing so unusual with the placid Ann +that her father and Gwilym both watched her in surprise. + +Gwilym took her hand in silence, and the old man, leaning his elbow on +the table and shading his eyes with his hand dropped some bitter tears. +He had looked forward to Will's return with intense longing, had +counted the days that must elapse before that happy hour should arrive +when, great-coated and gloved, he should drive his son over the frosty +roads, and usher him like a conquering hero into the old home. Through +her own tears Ann observed the old man's sorrowful attitude, and +instantly she dried her eyes and ran towards him. + +"Father, anwl," she said, in an abandon of love, kneeling down beside +him, and throwing her strong white arm around him, "is it tears I see +dropping down on the table? Well, indeed, there's a foolish daughter +you've got, to cry and mourn, and make her old father cry. Stop those +tears at once, then, naughty boy," she said cheerily, patting the old +man's back; "or I'll cry again, and Gwilym will be afraid to enter such +a showery family." + +Her father tried to laugh through his tears, and Ann, casting her +sorrow to the winds, laid herself out with "merry quips and cranks" to +restore him to cheerfulness. + +"Now see," she cried, with assumed childish glee, "what a dinner I have +for you! what you've often called 'a dinner for a king' and so it is, +and that king is Ebben Owens of Garthowen!" and she placed before him a +plate of boiled rabbit, adding a slice of the pink, home-cured bacon, +which Gwilym was cutting with a smile of amusement at her playful ruse. + +"Now, potatoes and onion sauce, salt, cabbages, knife and fork, and now +the dear old king is going to eat a good dinner." + +Ebben Owens laughingly took his knife and fork, and in spite of the +previous tears, the meal was a cheerful one, even Tudor stood up with +his paws on the table with a joyous bark. + +Will's letters were the grand excitement of the farm, coming at first +pretty regularly once a week--read aloud by Ann in the best kitchen, +examined carefully by her father lest a word should have escaped the +reader, carried out to farm kitchen or stable or field, and read to the +servants, who listened with gaping admiration. + +"There's a scholar he is! Caton pawb! Indeed, Mishteer, there's proud +you must be of him!" And all this was incense to Ebben Owens's heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BIRD FLUTTERS + +In the first term of his college life Will fully realised his +pleasantest anticipations, and now, if never before, he acknowledged to +himself his deep indebtedness to Gwilym Morris; his own abilities he +had never doubted. The ease, too, with which he had matriculated much +elated him, and he began his studies with a light heart and a happy +consciousness of talent, which, coupled with a dogged perseverance and +a determination to overcome every obstacle in his path, ensured success +in the long run. He had one fixed and constant aim, namely, +advancement in the career upon which he had entered, and in furtherance +of this object, he was determined to let no hankering after the past +stand in his way. In his own opinion there were but two hindrances to +his progress, two shadows from the past to darken his path, and these +were his obscure birth and his love for Morva, for this he had not yet +succeeded in crushing. Before he left home his constant intercourse +with her and the ease with which they met had prevented the usual +anxieties which are said to beset the path of love. With innate +selfishness, he had taken to himself all the pleasure derivable from +their close companionship, without troubling himself much as to the +state of the girl's feelings. That she was true to him, he had never +had reason to doubt. Since he left home things had taken a different +aspect; true, the thought of Morva was interwoven with all he did or +read or studied, but there was an accompanying feeling of disquietude, +a shrinking from the memory of her simple rustic ways, which he began +to realise were incompatible with his new hopes and aspirations. It +was becoming very evident to him, therefore, that his love for her must +be banished, with all the old foolish ties and habits which bound him +to the past. A vision of the clear blue eyes, the winsome smile, the +lissom figure _would_ rise persistently before him, and alas! the +threadbare woollen gown, the wooden shoes, the pink cotton neckerchief, +were also photographed upon his brain. + +He heard from Ann of her approaching marriage, no longer deferred in +expectation of his presence, and he was much relieved by this +arrangement; but still, when the morning dawned clear and frosty, he +was cross and irritable, for he could not banish from his mind the +thought of the old ivy-covered homestead, with the few gnarled trees +overshadowing its gables, its bare sea front turned bravely to the +north-west, the elder tree over the back door, the farm servants, all +with white favours pinned on their breasts; the gentle bride, the +handsome thoughtful bridegroom, the dear old father excited and merry, +and above all, Morva decked out in wedding finery! How lovely she +would look! Why was it that this sweet picture of home filled Will's +heart only with discontent and an abiding unrest? The answer is plain, +because he had determined, come what would, to sever himself from that +homely, simple life, to cast the thought of it into the background, to +live only for the future, and that future one of success and +self-aggrandisement. Morva alone held him back; how could he hope to +rise in his career, while his heart was fettered by the memory of a +milkmaid, a cowherd, a shepherdess? No, it was very evident that from +her he must break away. "But not now," he said to himself, as he paced +round the quadrangle, "not yet." She was so sweet--he loved her so +much; not yet must the severance come. "It will be time enough," so +his reverie ended, "when my future is more defined and certain, then it +will be easy to break away from poor Morva." + +The invitation of which he had spoken had not been renewed, and though +he was far too proud to show his annoyance, the omission galled and +fretted his haughty nature, for the lowliness of his birth and +circumstances chafed him continually, and engendered a sensitiveness to +small annoyances which would not have troubled a nobler nature. In +spite of all this, he found himself, as the term drew near its close, +looking forward with pleasure to the old home ways, and the old home +friends, and when he climbed into the jingling car beside his father, +in the yard of the hotel, not even the rough country shabbiness of the +equipage could altogether spoil the pleasant anticipations of a first +vacation at home, although, it must be confessed, that as he drove out +of the town, he earnestly hoped he would escape the observation of his +fellow collegians. + +Ebben Owens's happiness should now have been complete, for he had his +much-loved son at home at his own hearth; but a shadow seemed to have +fallen on the old man's life, a haunting sadness which nothing seemed +to dispel. Ann rallied him upon it playfully, and he would laughingly +promise to reform. + +"Will at home and all," she said, "and everything going on so +well--except, of course, 'tis dreadful about Gethin; but we have been +used to his absence, father; and you never seemed to grieve about him." + +"No, no," said her father, "I have never grieved about him much, but +lately I had got so fond of him; he was so kind to me, so merry he was, +and so handsome, and always ready to help!" and again he would relapse +into silence. + +On market day he was very anxious to drive Will into Castell On. + +"Come on, 'machgen i; I will give you a new waistcoat. Come and show +yourself to Mr. Price and to all the young ladies. Be bound, if they +were to see you in your cap and gown, not the highest among them but +would be proud to shake hands with you!" + +But Will declined the offer. Later in the day, however, he walked in +alone, and only that sad angel, who surely records the bitter wounds +inflicted by children upon the tender parent hearts, knew how sharp a +stab entered the old man's soul; but next day he had "got over it," as +the phrase is. + +With a slow, dragging step Morva walked home on the evening of Will's +arrival. He had nodded at her in a nonchalant manner, with a kindly, +"Well, Morva!" in passing, just as he had done to Magw and Shan, but +further than that had not spoken to her again, though his eyes followed +her everywhere as she moved about her household duties. + +"Prettier than ever!" he thought. "My word! there is not one of the +Llaniago young ladies fit to tie her shoe!" + +As soon as the cows were milked and the short frosty day had ended, the +moon rose clear and bright over the Cribserth. + +"I am going to see Sara," said Will, taking his hat off the peg in the +blue painted passage. + +No one was surprised at that, for both Will and Gethin, ever since +their mother's death, had been accustomed to run to Sara for sympathy +with every pleasure or misfortune, and after being two months away it +was quite natural that he should want to see her; so Morva had scarcely +rounded the bend of the Cribserth before Will had caught her up. A +little shiver ran through her as she recognised the step and the +whistle which called her attention. It was Will, whom she once thought +she had loved so truly, and the coldness which she had felt towards him +of late was strangely mingled with remorse and tender memories as she +turned and walked a few steps back to meet him. + +"Stop, Morva; let me speak to thee. Give me thy hand, lass. After so +long a parting thou canst not deny me a kiss too." + +Ah, how sweet it was to return to the dear old Welsh, and the homely +"thee" and "thou"! + +"Art well, Will? But I need not ask. Indeed, there is life and health +in thy very face." + +"Yes, I am well," said Will, drawing her towards him. "I am coming +with thee to see Sara." + +"Yes, come," said Morva. + +"Art glad to see me, lass?" + +"Yes, indeed, I am very glad, whatever. Garthowen will be full again; +it has been very empty lately." + +She was thinking of Gethin, unconsciously, perhaps, and hung her head a +little guiltily when Will said: + +"Thou didst miss me, then?" + +"Of course we all missed thee--thy father especially." + +"More than thee, Morva?" + +She sighed. "'Tis this way, Will. I am tired of this secrecy. We +grew up like brother and sister. Can't we remain like that? Don't ask +me for more, and then thou canst rise as high as thou pleasest, and I +will be always glad to see thee, and so proud to hear of thy getting +on. Will, it will never do for a clergyman to marry his father's +milkmaid!" + +"Twt, twt," said Will, "let us not think of the future, lass--the +present is enough for me; and I promise thee not to allude to our +marriage if thou wilt only meet me like this whenever I come home, and +let me feel thee close to my heart as thou hast to-night." + +"But I will not," said the girl suddenly, withdrawing herself from the +arm which he had passed round her waist. + +"Why not?" he asked. + +"Because," said Morva, "'tis only my promise to marry thee that makes +me meet thee as I do, and deceive them all at Garthowen. Let me tell +them how it is between us, Will." + +"What! Morva talk about her sweetheart as the English girls do! No, +thou art too modest, lass." + +"That is quite different," said Morva. "I do not want to talk about +my--my--" + +"Lover," said Will. + +"Yes, but I don't want any longer to deceive my best friends. Let me +go, Will, or let us be married soon. I am willing for either." + +"Indeed, lass," said Will, beginning to hedge, "I would almost think +thou hadst found another sweetheart, only I know how seldom any other +man comes across thy path, unless indeed Gethin the thief has stolen +thy love from me. Morva, dost love any other man?" + +"Gethin is no thief," she answered hotly, "and thou knowest it as well +as I do. Thou knowest his nature; 'twould be impossible for him to do +a mean thing." + +"Thou hast a high opinion of him," said Will scornfully. "Is it he, +then, who hast stolen thine heart?" + +Morva walked with bent head, pulling at her apron-strings. + +"I am not saying that," she answered, in a very low tone, "but I wish +to be free, or marry thee soon." + +It was now Will's turn to be anxious. The possibility of Morva's +loving any other man had never before disturbed him, but now her words, +her attitude, all impressed him with a strong suspicion, and a flame of +anger and jealousy rushed through his veins. + +"Free!" he said, "after all thy promises to me--free to marry another +man! Is it that, Morva?" and as he spoke his hot temper gathered +strength. "Never!" he said, "I will never free thee from thy promise. +Thou canst break it an thou wishest, and break my heart at the same +time; 'twill be a fine return for all our kindness to thee, 'twill be a +grand ending to all thy faithful vows!" + +"I am willing to marry thee, Will," she said, "if thou wilt let it be +soon." + +"Marry thee soon! How can that be, Morva?--a student without home or +money, and a girl without a penny in the world! What madness thou art +talking. I only ask thee to have patience for a year or two, and I +will have a home for thee. And who is thy new sweetheart?" + +"I have no sweetheart; but, Will, I want to be free." + +"And I will never give thee back thy freedom. Take it if thou lik'st. +The absent are always forgotten. How could I expect thee to be true?" + +Morva began to cry silently. + +"I see I have set my heart upon a fickle, cruel woman, one who, after +years of faithful promises, forgets me, and wishes to take back her +vows. I have but to leave her for two months, and she at once breaks +her promises and forgets the past, while I," said Will, with growing +indignation and self-pity, "have found all my studies blurred by thine +image, and the memory of thee woven with all my thoughts. Oh, Morva! +had I known when we were boy and girl together that thou couldst be so +false, I would never have treasured thee in my heart, but would have +turned and fled as Gethin did, instead of clinging to thee, and for thy +sake stopping in the dull old home when the world was all before me. +And now to come home and find that thou art tired of me--art cold to +me, and hast forgotten me! 'Tis a hard fate, indeed!" + +"Oh, Will, no, no!" sobbed the girl, "'tis not so; indeed. God knows I +love thee still as much as ever I did. 'Tis only that I have grown +older, and wiser, and sadder perhaps, because it seems that knowing +much brings sorrow with it. I was so young when I made all those +promises." + +"Two months younger than thou art now!" scoffed Will. + +"Two months is a long time," she said, "when you begin to think, and I +have thought and thought out here at night when the stars are +glittering overhead, when the sea is sighing so sad down below, and +after all my thinking only one thing is plain to me, Will; let there be +no promises between us." + +"Never!" said Will, a vindictive feeling rising within him, "never will +I set thee free to marry another man, whoever he is!" + +"He is no one," interpolated Morva, in a low voice. + +"Whoever he is," repeated Will, as though he had not heard her, "I will +never set thee free, never--never, never!" + +All the dogged obstinacy of his nature was roused, and the feeling that +he was a wronged and injured man gave his voice a tone of indignant +passion which told upon the girl's sensitive nature. + +"Oh, Will," she said, stretching out her hand towards him, "I did not +think thou loved me like that! I cannot be cruel to thee; thou art a +Garthowen, and for them I have often said I would lay down my life. I +will lay down my life for thee, Will. Once more I promise." + +"Nay," he said, laughing, "I will never ask thee to do that for me, +lass; only be true to me and wait patiently for me, Morva;" and he drew +her towards him once more. + +"I will," she answered. + +They had reached the cottage, and Will passed round into the court, +leaving her standing with eyes fixed steadfastly on the bright north +star. + +"I will," she repeated, "for I have promised, and there are many ways +of laying down one's life." + +For a moment she stood alone in the moonlight, and what vows of +self-sacrifice she made were known only to herself. + +"Anwl, anwl!" said Sara, as Will entered, "will I make my door bigger? +Will I find a stool strong enough for this big man?" + +Will laughed and tossed back his hair. + +"Will I ever be more than a boy to thee, Sara?" + +"Well, indeed," said the old woman, "I am forgetting how the children +grow up. Sit down, my boy, and tell us all about the grand streets and +the college at Llaniago, and the ladies and gentlemen whom thou art +hand and glove with there--and so thou ought to be, too. Caton pawb! +I'd like to see the family whose achau[1] go back further than +Garthowen's!" + +Here Morva entered. + +"I thought thou hadst run away, lass!" said Will, with a double meaning +as he looked at her. + +She only smiled and shook her head. + +"Oh! 'twouldn't do for me," said Sara, "whenever Morva stops out under +the night sky to think she has run away; she often strays out when the +stars are shining." + +Gethin had always been Sara's favourite, and Will's visit therefore did +not give her so much pleasure as his brother's had done; but she would +have belied her hospitable nature had she allowed this preference to +influence the warmth of her welcome. + +Morva seemed to have regained her cheerfulness, and spread the simple +supper, sometimes joining in the conversation, while Will and Sara +chatted over the blaze of the crackling furze. It was quite late when +he rose to go. + +"Well," he said, "they will be shutting me out at Garthowen, and +thinking I have learnt bad ways at Llaniago. Good-night, Sara fāch, I +am glad to see thee looking so well. Good-night, Morva. Wilt come +with me a little way? 'Twill be an excuse for another ten minutes +under the stars, Sara." + +And they went out together, their shadows blending into one in the +bright moonlight. + +Once more Will extracted the oft-repeated promise, and Morva returned +to the cottage, her chains only riveted more firmly, and her heart +filled with a false strength, arising from an entire surrender of self +and all selfish desires to an imaginary duty. + + + +[1] Pedigree. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +DR. OWEN + +It was New Year's Day, the merriest and most festive day of the year, +and Ebben Owens, sitting under the big chimney, seemed for a time at +least to have shaken off the cloud that had hung over him of late. + +Christmas Day in Wales is by no means the day of festivity that it is +in England, the whole day being taken up with religious services of +some kind; but the first day of the year is given up entirely to +pleasure and happy re-unions. For the children it is the day of days. +Before the sun has risen they congregate in the village streets, and +set out in the dark and cold of the frosty morning in noisy groups, on +expeditions into the surrounding country, with bags on their shoulders, +in which they collect the kindly "calenigs," or New Year's gifts, +prepared for them in every farm and homestead. 'Tis a merry gathering, +indeed, the tramp through the frost and snow under the bright stars in +the early morning, adding the charm of novelty and mystery to the usual +delight of an expedition. + +Ann and Morva had cut the generous hunches of barley bread and cheese +overnight, and well it was that they were thus prepared, for before the +hens and turkeys had flown down from their roosting-place, and before +the cows had risen from their warm beds of straw in the beudy, or the +sheep had begun to shake off the snow which had fallen on their fleeces +in the night, fresh young voices were heard in the farmyard singing the +old refrain familiar to generations of Welsh children: + + "Calenig i fi, calenig i'r ffon, + Calenig i fytta ar hyd y ffordd. + Un waith, dwywaith, tair!" + + _Translation._ + + "A gift for me and a gift for my staff, + And a gift to eat as I trudge along. + Once, twice, thrice!" + + +It is a peremptory demand, sung in a chanting kind of monotone, and +very seldom refused. A boy is chosen to knock at the farm door and +rouse the inmates, it being considered unlucky for the household if a +girl first crosses the threshold. + +The family at Garthowen had risen hurriedly, and with smiling faces had +opened the door to the children. Bags were filled, greetings were +interchanged, and the happy troop were sent on their way rejoicing, +shouting as they went, "A happy New Year to you all!" + +When the bread and cheese had come to an end, Ebben Owens had +distributed pennies from a large canvas bag which he had filled for the +occasion; and in the afternoon, when the calls were becoming less +frequent, he sat under the open chimney with an almost empty bag. + +Suddenly the doorway was darkened by a portly figure in black. A +genial face glowing from the frosty air, a voice of peculiar +mellowness, which always added a musical charm of its own both to +singing and conversation; a chimney-pot hat not of the newest, his +black clerical coat uncovered by greatcoat or cloak, a strong knobbed +walking-stick in the right hand, while the finger and thumb of the left +hand were generally tightly closed on a pinch of snuff, well-shined +creaking shoes, completed the costume of the visitor, who was no other +than Mr. Price, the vicar of Castell On. + +"I saw the children coming to the back door, and I am come with them," +said the vicar as he entered, pointing with his stick to a queue of +children in the yard. "How do you do, Owens?" and he shook hands +warmly with the old man, who rose hurriedly to greet his visitor. + +"Caton pawb, Mr. Price!" he said, flinging his remaining pence into the +yard, where the children scrambled for them. "Come in, sir, come in," +and he opened the door of the best kitchen, where the rest of the +family were sitting in the glow of the culm fire. + +Will started to his feet, exclaiming, "Mr. Price!" and for a moment he +hesitated whether to speak in English or in Welsh, but the visitor +settled the matter by adhering to his mother-tongue. + +Ann rose, calm and dignified, and held out her hand without much +empressement. Mr. Price was a clergyman, and a little antagonism awoke +at once in her faithful bigoted heart. + +"My husband," she said, pointing to Gwilym, who flung away his book and +came forward laughing. + +"My dear girl," he said, "although Mr. Price and I work apart on +Sundays, we meet continually in the week, and need no introduction, I +think." + +Mr. Price joined in the laugh, and shook hands warmly with the preacher +and Will, and the conversation soon flowed easily. Will's career was +the chief topic, the vicar appearing to take a personal interest in it, +which delighted the old man's heart. + +"I am very glad, indeed," said the former, with his pinch of snuff held +in readiness, "to hear such a good account of you from my friend, the +dean," and he disposed of his snuff. "He wrote to me, knowing I was +particularly interested, and also that we are neighbours. He says, +'There is every reason to think your young friend will be an honour to +his father, and to his college, if he goes on as he has begun. I have +seldom had the privilege of imparting knowledge to one whose early +teaching presents such well prepared ground for cultivation. Who was +his tutor?' I have told him," added the vicar, "how much you owe to +your brother-in-law." + +"It has been a pleasure to instruct Will," said the preacher. "For one +thing he has a wonderfully retentive memory. Of course it is useless +to pretend that I should not have been better pleased if he had +remained a member of 'the old body'; but, wherever he is, I shall be +very grateful if the small seeds I have sown are allowed to bear the +blossom and fruit of a useful Christian life." + +"Yes, yes! just so, exactly so!" said the vicar; "but having chosen the +Church of his own free will, I am very anxious he should get on well +and be an honour to her." + +He held out his silver snuff-box towards the preacher, who declined the +luxury, but Ebben Owens accepted it with evident appreciation. + +"There is one thing," said the vicar, turning to Will, "which I think +very necessary for your advancement. You must make your uncle's +acquaintance. Dr. Owen is a personal friend of the bishop's, and they +say no one to whom he is unfriendly gets on in the Church." + +"I hope he is not unfriendly to me," said Will, tossing his hair off +his forehead. "I have never troubled him in any way, or claimed his +acquaintance." + +"Have you never spoken to him?" + +"Only as a child," said Will haughtily. "He has not been here for a +long time, and when he came I did not see him for I was not at home." + +As a matter of fact Will had been ploughing on the mountain-side when +the Dr. had honoured his brother with a call. He was beginning to be +ashamed of the farm work and kept it out of sight as much as possible. + +"Well, well!" said his father apologetically, "we are three miles from +Castell On, you see, and it is uphill all the way, and Davy my brother, +never comes to the town except to some service in the church, and so I +can't expect him to spend his time coming out here." + +"No, no, perhaps not! He is a very busy man," said the vicar, who was +never known willingly to hurt anyone's feelings or to speak a +disparaging word of an absent person. "Well, now, he is coming to +lunch with me on Friday on his way to the archidiaconal meetings at +Caer-Madoc, and I want you to come too." + +"He won't like it, perhaps," said Will, "and I should be sorry to force +my company upon him." + +"Oh! you have no reason to think that," said the vicar. "I think when +he has seen you he will like you; anyway, I hope you will come." + +"Of course, Will, of course," said Ebben Owens. "He'll come, sir, +right enough." + +"You are very kind, sir," said Will, slowly and reluctantly. "I would +give the world if it could be avoided, but if you think it is the right +thing for me to do I will do it." + +"I am sure it is! I'm sure it is!" said the vicar, taking snuff +vigorously; "so I shall expect you. Well, Miss Ann, I beg pardon--Mrs. +Morris, I mean, I have not congratulated you yet. 'Pon me word, I am +very neglectful; but I do so now heartily, both of you. May you live +long and be very happy. In fact, my call was intended for the bride +and bridegroom as well as for my young friend here. And where is Morva +Lloyd? She works with you, does she not?" + +"She's at home to-day. 'Tis a holiday for her. + +"She is a great favourite of mine; what a sweet girl she is! I never +have a great beauty pointed out to me but I say 'Very lovely; but not +so lovely as Morva of the Moor.'" + +"Yes; she is a wonderful girl," said Ann, "for a shepherdess." + +"Well, yes!" said Gwilym Morris; "I think she owes her charm in a great +measure to her foster-mother. Do you know old Sara?" + +"Oh, yes!" said the vicar; "we have all heard of old Sara ''spridion.' +Something uncanny about the old woman, they say. But, 'pon me word, +there is something very interesting about her, too." + +"Yes," said Gwilym Morris, "she has a wonderful spiritual insight, if I +may call it so. She often shocks me by her remarks, but if I lay a +subject before her upon which I have been pondering deeply but have not +succeeded in elucidating, she grasps its meaning at once and explains +it to me in simple words, and I come away wondering where the +difficulty lay." + +After the vicar was gone, Will accompanying him half a mile down the +road, the whole family were loud in his praise. + +"There's a man now!" said Ebben Owens; "if every clergyman was like him +'twould be a good thing for the Church. No difference to him whether a +man is a Methodist, a Baptist, or a Churchman, always the same pleasant +smile and warm greeting for them all, and as much at home in a +Dissenter's house as a Churchman's." + +"Yes, a true Christian," said Gwilym Morris, "and so genial and +pleasant. At 'Bethel' on Wednesday night, when Jones 'Bethesda' was +preaching, he was there, and seemed much impressed by the sermon; and +well he might be! I have never heard such an eloquent preacher. +Wasn't he, Ann?" + +"Oh, beautiful!" she replied. "I wish Mr. Price could have stopped to +tea, but, of course, that meeting prevented him." + +Next day when Will, having rung the bell, stood waiting on the vicar's +doorstep, he was certainly not in as equable a frame of mind as his +outward demeanour would lead one to suppose. He was in a few moments +to meet face to face the man who of all others had interested him most +deeply, though his feeling towards him was almost akin to hatred. It +was a sore point at Garthowen that Ebben Owens' own brother had so +completely ignored his relationship with him; and Will's hopes of +success were greatly sweetened by the thought that in time he might +hold his head as high as his uncle's, and bring that proud man to his +senses; but to-day as he stood waiting at Mr. Price's door he called to +mind the necessity of hiding his feelings, and conciliating the great +man, who perhaps might have the power of helping him in the future. + +When shown into the hall he heard voices within; the vicar's jovial +laugh, and a pleasant voice so like his own, that he was startled. + +"Hallo! Owen, how do you do? so glad to see you," said the vicar in +English. + +And the tall man who was standing by the window received him with an +equally pleasant greeting. + +"My nephew, I am told. Well, to be sure, this makes me realise how old +I am getting." + +"Nay, sir," said Will, "you are many years younger than my father." + +The Rev. Dr. Owen looked over Will with secret surprise and +satisfaction. He had expected a raw country youth, his angles still +unrubbed off, his accent rough and Welshy, but Will was on his guard; +it was his strong point, and though the care with which he chose his +words was sometimes a little laboured and pedantic, yet they were +always well chosen and free from any trace of Welsh accent. Dr. Owen +was delighted; he had dreaded a meeting with his brother's uncouth +progeny, and had been rather inclined to resent the vicar's +interference in the matter, but when Will entered, well dressed, simple +and unaffected in manner, and yet perfectly free from gaucherie, a +long-felt uneasiness was set at rest, and the unexpected relief made +Dr. Owen affable and pleasant. + +Will was relieved too. He had feared a haughty look, a contemptuous +manner, and dreaded lest his own hot temper might have refused to be +controlled. + +The vicar was delighted; he felt his little plan had succeeded, and his +kind heart rejoiced in the prospective advantages which might accrue to +Will from his acquaintance with his uncle. + +"And how is my brother Ebben?" said Dr. Owen. "Well, I hope. I am +ashamed to think how long it is since I have called to see him; but, +indeed, I never come to Castell On except on important Church matters, +and I never have much time on my hands. You will find that to be your +own case, young man, when you have fully entered upon your clerical +duties. The Church in Wales is no longer asleep, and she no longer +lets her clergy sleep. I hope it is not with the idea that you will +gain repose and rest that you have entered her service, for if it is +you will be disappointed." + +"Certainly not, sir," answered Will; "my greatest desire is a sphere in +which I can use my energies in the services of the Church. I don't +want rest, I want work." + +"That being so," said the Dr., "we must see that you get it. I have no +doubt with those feelings and intentions you will get on. You will +take your degree, I suppose, before leaving college?" + +"I hope so," said Will, modestly; "that is my wish." + +"Your sister Ann," inquired his uncle at last, "how is she? And your +eldest brother? Turned out badly, didn't he?" + +"Well," said Will, "he is of a roving disposition, certainly; but that +is all. My sister is quite well." + +He intentionally left unmentioned the fact of her marriage, but the +vicar, whose blunt, honest nature never thought of concealment, +imparted the information at once. + +"She was married about a month ago, and I should think has every +prospect of happiness." + +"Married! Ah, indeed! To whom? A farmer, I suppose?" + +"No; to the minister of the Methodist Chapel at Penmorien. A very fine +fellow, and one of the best scholars in the county. You know his +'Meini Gobaith,' published about a year ago?" + +"Oh, is that the man?" said the doctor. "Ts! ts! you have left a nest +of Dissenters, William. I am glad you have escaped." + +"Yes," said Will, laughing; "a nest of Dissenters, certainly." + +"Well," said the vicar, "you owe a great deal to Gwilym Morris. You +would never have begun your college career on such good standing had it +not been for him. In fact, you have had exceptional advantages." + +"Yes," said Will; "he is a splendid teacher, and a good man." + +"Well, well," said his uncle, "let the superstructure be good, and the +foundation will soon be forgotten." + +"A good man's silent influence is a very solid foundation to build +upon, whatever denomination he may belong to," said the vicar. + +"Oh, certainly, certainly," agreed Dr. Owen. "My carriage is at The +Bear; perhaps you will walk down with me, both of you?" + +"Of course, of course," said Mr. Price; "if you must go." + +"Yes, I must go; I must not be late for the meeting at Caer-Madoc." + +The vicar hunted for his walking-stick, and Will helped his uncle to +get into his greatcoat. + +"Thank you, my boy," said the old man, almost warmly, for he was +beginning to feel the ties of blood awakening in his heart. + +In truth, he was so pleasantly impressed by his new-found nephew's +appearance and manners that already visions of a lonely hearth passed +before him, lightened by the presence of a young and ardent spirit, who +should look up to him for help and sympathy, giving in return the warm +love of relationship, which no heart, however cold and isolated, is +entirely capable of doing without. + +Will was elated, and conscious of having stepped easily into his +uncle's good graces, he walked up the street with the two clergymen, +full of gratified pride. + +On their way, to his great annoyance, they met Gryff Jones of +Pont-y-fro, a farmer's son holding the same position as his own. He +would have passed him with a nod, but the genial vicar, to whom every +man was of equal importance, whether lord or farmer, stopped to shake +hands and make kindly inquiries. + +Will and the doctor moved on, and John Thomas the draper, standing at +his shop-door, turned round with a wink at his assistant and a knowing +smile. + +"Well, well," he said, "Will Owens Garthowen _is_ a gentleman at last. +That's what he's been trying to be all his life." + +At the door of the Bear Hotel they came upon a knot of ladies, who at +once surrounded Dr. Owen. He was a great favourite amongst them, his +popularity being partly due to his good looks and pleasant manners, +partly to his good position in the Church, and in some measure +certainly to his reputed riches. + +Soon after entering the Church he had married a lady of wealth and good +position, who was considerably older than himself, and who, having no +children, at her death had bequeathed to him all her property. Many a +net had been spread for the rich widower, but he had hitherto escaped +their toils, and appeared perfectly content with his lonely life. + +Will was almost overwhelmed with nervousness and shyness as they +reached the group of ladies; but, true to his purpose, he put on a look +of unconcern which he was far from feeling. + +"How do you do, Mr. Owen?" said one of the girls, holding out her hand +with a shy friendliness, "I am Miss Vaughan, you know, whom you saved +from that furious bull." + +"Yes, of course," said Will, shaking hands. + +"I thought perhaps you had forgotten me," she said. + +Will had flushed to the roots of his hair from nervousness, but he +quickly regained his self-possession. He looked down the side of his +leg and pondered his boot. + +"Would that be possible, I wonder?" he said, half aloud. + +"I don't see much difficulty," said the girl laughingly. + +Will laughed too, and his laugh was always charming, the ice was +broken, and the chat was only disturbed by the Dr.'s hurried good-bye. + +"Good-bye, ladies," he said, as he stepped briskly into his gig. "I am +grieved to have to leave you, but that meeting calls. Good-bye, Will, +I shall see you at Llaniago, and you, Miss Vaughan, I hear I am to have +the pleasure of meeting you at Llwynelen." And the Dr. drove off +amongst a flutter of hands and handkerchiefs. + +And now Will would have been in a dilemma had not the vicar arrived on +the scene. Again there were many "How do you do's?" and much shaking +of hands, while Will was debating within himself what he should do. + +The vicar at once introduced him to each and all of the young ladies, +some of whom would have drawn back in horror had they known that the +young man who addressed them with such sang-froid was the son of a +farmer, and a brother-in-law of a dissenting preacher. + +Will knew this obstacle in his path, and was determined to overcome it. +Gwenda Vaughan, he thought, was delightfully easy to get on with, and +their conversation followed on uninterruptedly until they reached the +vicarage door, where they parted, the ladies separating, and Will +staying to bid the vicar good-bye. + +"Who on earth was that handsome man, Gwenda?" asked Adela Griffiths +before parting. "I don't know how it is, but you always manage to get +hold of handsome men. + +"And nothing ever comes of it," whispered Edith Williams. + +"Why, he's Dr. Owen's nephew," said Gwenda; "didn't you hear Dr. Owen +introduce him?" + +And she said no more, but carried away with her a distinct impression +of Will's handsome person and charming smile. + + * * * * * * + +About this time a strange thing happened at Garthowen. It was midday. +Ann had just laid the dinner on the table, and Ebben Owens had lounged +in. + +"Well, the threshing will be done soon," said the old man; "Twm is a +capital fellow. Don't know in the world what I should do without him." + +"What is that noise?" asked Morva, pushing back her hair to listen, as +a curious sound as of shaking and thumping was heard by all. + +"'Tis upstairs, and in your room, Gwilym," said Ann. + +Suddenly there was a jingling sound and rolling as if of money, +followed by a satisfied bark. + +"Run up Morva and see," said Ann; "what is that dog doing?" + +The girl ran up, passing Tudor on the stairs, who entered the kitchen +with waving tail and glistening eyes carrying in his mouth a canvas bag +from which hung a draggled pink tape, and at the same moment Morva's +voice was heard calling, "Oh, anwl! come up and see!" + +Ann and Gwilym hurried up, followed by Ebben Owens and Will, to find +Morva pointing to the floor which was strewn with pieces of gold. + +"My sovereigns!" said Gwilym, "no doubt! and Tudor has emptied the bag. +Where could they have come from?" and everyone looked through the open +window down the lane to where in the clear frosty air the blue smoke +curled from a little brown thatched chimney. + +Ebben Owens jerked his thumb towards the cottage. + +"There's no need to ask that," he said. "'Twould be easy to stand on +the garden wall and throw it in through the window." + +Ann was busily counting the sovereigns which had rolled into all sorts +of difficult corners. + +"Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty!" + +"Every one right," said Gwilym; "how fortunate! but how I should like +to tell Gryffy Lewis I forgive him, and that he has done right in +returning the money." + +"I expect fear as well as a guilty conscience made him return them, the +blackguard!" suggested Will. + +"No doubt; no doubt," said the old man. + +As for Morva, she was so overcome with joy at this proof of Gethin's +innocence that she was scarcely able to hide her agitation from those +around her. + +When all the money had been gathered into Ann's apron they returned to +their dinner to find Tudor occupying the mishteer's chair, with a +decided expression of satisfaction on his face, the canvas bag lying +beside him. + +"Well," said Ebben Owens, ousting Tudor unceremoniously from his seat, +and speaking in an agitated and tremulous voice, "one thing has been +made plain, whatever, and that is that poor Gethin had nothing to do +with the money. You all see that, don't you?" + +"Well I suppose he hadn't," said Will; "but why then did he go away so +suddenly? That, I suppose, must remain a mystery until he chooses to +turn up again." + +"Yes, it is strange," said his father, with a deep sigh. + +"Well, thank God!" said Gwilym; "'tis plain he never took the money, +Ann. There is no more need for tears." + +"No, indeed," she said, "but will he ever come back? Oh! father, anwl! +no more sighs. Will is a collegian and getting on well. Gethin is an +honest man wherever he is. He will come back suddenly to us one day as +he did before, and there is no need for heavy hearts any longer at +Garthowen. Morva, lass, art not glad?" + +"Yes, indeed," said the girl, "but I never thought it was Gethin." + +Ebben Owens looked up at her quickly. + +"Who then?" he said. + +"Oh, I didn't know," said the girl, "but I thought God would make it +plain some day." + +"I don't think there is much doubt about it," said Gwilym. "Poor +Gryffy; we know he must have suffered much remorse before he threw that +bag in at the window again." + +"'Twas not Gethin, and that's all we need trouble our heads about now," +said the old man rising from the table. + +The frosty wind was scarcely more fleet than Morva's flying footsteps +as she crossed the moor that evening. + +"Mother, mother!" she called, even before she had reached the doorway. +"Mother, mother! the money is found and everyone knows now that Gethin +is innocent!" and the whole story was poured into Sara's ears. + +Tudor, who sat beside the girl on the settle, her arm thrown round his +neck, looked from one face to another as the story proceeded, +interpolating a bark whenever there was a pause. + +"So the clouds roll by," said Sara. "Patience 'merch i! and the sun +will shine out some day!" + +"How can that be, mother, when I am bound to Will? A milkmaid to a +clergyman; and he already ashamed of her!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +GWENDA'S PROSPECTS + +"I am going to walk into town," said Dr. Owen one morning as he turned +over the sheets of his newspaper; "is anyone inclined for a walk?" + +He was sitting in the sunny bay-window of the breakfast-room at +Llwynelen, a large country house about a mile out of Llaniago. + +"I am," answered Gwenda Vaughan, who sat at work near him. "Such a +lovely day! I was longing for a walk." + +"And I too," said Mrs. Trevor, their hostess. "I have some shopping to +do, and will come with you." + +"Do. Will you be ready in half an hour, ladies? I am going to call +upon my nephew; I can go to his rooms while you are doing your +shopping." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Trevor, "and bring him back to lunch with us. I shall +be glad to make his acquaintance. I hear he is a very promising young +man." + +"Thank you. I am sure he will be delighted to come. I think you will +like him; but I forgot that you, Miss Vaughan, have already seen him." + +"Oh, yes!" said Gwenda. "He once saved my life; so of course I am very +grateful." + +"Saved your life, child; how," asked Mrs. Trevor. + +And Gwenda related the story of the runaway bull, and the manner in +which Will had gone to her rescue. + +"Dear me," said Dr. Owen, "he never mentioned it to me! Well! I'll go +and look him up today." + +Noontide found Will seated at lunch at Llwynelen, Mr. Trevor plying him +with questions concerning his studies and college life; Dr. Owen not a +little pleased with his nephew's self-possessed, though unobtrusive, +manner. He was pleased, too, to see that he made a favourable +impression upon the genial host and hostess. + +Gwenda was as delightfully agreeable as she knew how to be, and that is +saying a good deal. Her naļve remarks and honest straightforward +manner had made her a favourite with Dr. Owen, and it gratified him to +see an easy acquaintance springing up between her and his nephew. + +"It is Will's twenty-fourth birthday to-day, he tells me," he said. + +"How odd!" said Gwenda; "it is my twenty-second." + +"That is strange," said Mrs Trevor; "and you never let me know! But +you need not tell everyone your age." + +"Why not?" + +"Oh! well, young ladies don't usually tell their ages; but you are not +quite like other girls." + +Gwenda laughed; and Will thought how charming were the dimple in her +chin, the perfect teeth, the sparkling black eyes! Yes, she was very +pretty, no doubt! + +"Is that remark meant to be disparaging or complimentary?" asked the +girl. + +"Oh! a little of both," said Mrs. Trevor; "girls are odd nowadays." + +"Yes; I think the days are gone by when they were all run into the same +mould," remarked Dr. Owen. + +"And I'm afraid the mould got cracked before I was run into it," +replied Gwenda. + +"Well, you are not very misshapen," said the Dr. warmly, "and if you do +run into little irregularities, they are all in the right direction." + +"Let us hope so," said the girl. + +Will said nothing; but Gwenda, catching the look of ardent admiration, +blushed vividly, and looked down at her plate. + +"In the meantime," she remarked, "no one has wished me or Mr. Owen many +happy returns of the day." + +"Bless me, no!" said Mr. Trevor; "but I do so now, my dear, with all my +heart." + +"And I--and I," echoed the others. + +"Let us drink the health of the two young people," said the host. + +"Thank you very much for your kind wishes," said Will. + +"Yes, thank you very much," echoed Gwenda. Will was in danger of +losing his head as well as his heart. To have his name (from which, by +the by, he had dropped the plebeian "s") bracketed with Miss Gwenda +Vaughan's was a state of things which, though occasioned only by a +simple coincidence, elated him beyond measure. He had indeed, he +thought, stepped out of the old order of things and made his way into a +higher grade of life by an easy bound. He was careful, however, to +hide his gratified pride entirely from those around him. + +After lunch, Mrs. Trevor proposed a stroll through the conservatories, +and while the elders stopped to admire a fern or a rare exotic, Will +and Gwenda roamed on under the palms and greenery to where a sparkling +fountain rose, and flung its feathery spray into the air. + +"Will you sit down?" said Will, pointing to a seat which stood +invitingly near. "You must be tired after your long walk." + +"Tired? Oh no, I love walking, and am very strong, but we can rest +till the others come up." + +And sitting down together they watched the gold fish in the fountain's +rustic basin. Through the glass they could see the sparkling frosty +branches outside against the pale blue sky of a winter's day, the sun +shining round and red through the afternoon haze. + +"What a glorious day," said Gwenda at last. + +"Yes," answered Will, adding a little under his breath, "one I shall +never forget." + +There was something in the tone of his voice which caused a little +flutter of consciousness under Gwenda's fur necklet. She made no +answer, and, after a moment, changed the subject, though with no +displeasure in her voice. + +"Do you see those prismatic colours in the spray?" + +"Yes, beautiful!" answered Will, rather absently. + +He was wondering whether all this was a dream--that he, Will Owen of +Garthowen Farm, was sitting here under the palms and exotics with Miss +Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny. At last Gwenda rallied him. + +"You are dreaming," she said playfully. + +"I am afraid I am." + +At this moment the rest of the party appeared, and they all returned to +the house together. + +Will looked at his watch. + +"I think I must go," he said. "I have a lecture to attend." + +"Well," said his uncle, "we won't detain you from that. Quite right, +my boy, never neglect your lectures. I shall see you again to-morrow." + +"Now, don't wait for an invitation," said Mrs. Trevor hospitably, "but +come and see us as often as you can. Your uncle is quite at home here, +and we shall be delighted if you will make yourself so too!" + +"I shall only be too glad to avail myself of your kindness." + +"I will come with you to the gate," said his uncle, and Will went out +in a maze of happiness. + +"My dear boy," said Dr. Owen, taking his arm as they passed together up +the broad avenue, "I have done a good thing for you to-day. I have +introduced you to the nicest family in the neighbourhood. Keep up +their acquaintance, it will give you a good standing." + +"You are very good to me, sir," said Will. "I don't know how to thank +you." + +"By going on as you have begun, William. I am very pleased to find you +such a congenial companion. I mean to be good to you, better than you +can imagine. I am a lonely old man, and you must come and brighten up +my home for me." + +"Anything I can do," said Will warmly. + +"Well, well, no promises, my dear boy. I shall see how you go on. I +believe we shall get on very well together. Good-bye, I shall see you +tomorrow." + +"You evidently take a great interest in your nephew," said Mrs. Trevor, +on the Dr.'s return to the house, "and I am not surprised. He seems a +very nice fellow, so natural and unaffected, and so like you in +appearance; he might be a son of yours." + +"Yes," said Dr. Owen thoughtfully, "I am greatly pleased with him. You +see I am a lonely man. I have no one else to care for, so I shall +watch the young man's career with great interest. He will be +everything to me, and with God's help I will do everything for him." + +"He is a lucky fellow indeed," said Mrs. Trevor. + +"Well, yes, I think he will be." + +Gwenda was sitting quietly at work in the bay window, where not a word +of this conversation was lost upon her. Was it possible that bright +hopes were dawning even for her, who had been tossed about from early +girlhood upon the sea of matrimonial schemes? Schemes from which her +honest nature had revolted; for Gwenda Vaughan had within her a fund of +right feeling and common sense, a warmth of heart which none of the +frivolous, shallow-minded men with whom she had come in contact had +ever moved. Attracted only by her beauty, they sought for nothing +else, while she, conscious of a depth of tenderness waiting for the +hand which should unseal its fountain, turned with unsatisfied +yearnings from all her admirers and so-called "lovers." She had felt +differently towards Will from the day when he had, as she thought, +saved her life, and when he had ridden home with her foot in his hand. +A strange feeling of attraction had inclined her towards him, all the +romance in her nature, which had been stunted and checked by the +manoeuvres and manners of country "society," turned towards this +stalwart "son of the soil" who had so unexpectedly crossed her path. +She had not thought it possible that her romantic dreams could be +realised; such things were not for her! In her case everything was to +be sacrificed to the duty of "making a good match," of settling herself +advantageously in the world, but now what did she hear? "I will do +everything for him," surely that meant "I will make him my heir!" For +wealth and position for their own sakes she cared not a straw, but +Will's "prospects," the sickening word that had been dinned into her +ears for years, began to arouse a deep interest in her mind. Her heart +told her that he was not entirely indifferent to her, and experience +had taught her that when she laid herself out to please she never +failed to do so. All day she was very silent until at last Mrs. Trevor +said: + +"You are very quiet to-day, love; I really shall begin to think you +have fallen in love with Dr. Owen's nephew. A charming young man, +certainly, and I should think his prospects--" + +"Oh, stop, dear Mrs. Trevor! _Prospects_! I am sick of the word. +Shall I play you something?" And in the twilight she sat down to the +piano. + +"Do, dear; I love to see you on that music stool," said the good lady; +and well she might, for Gwenda was a musician from the soul to the +finger tips, and this evening she seemed possessed by the spirit of +music, for long after the twilight had faded into darkness, she sat +there pouring her very heart out in melody, and when she retired to +rest her pillow was surrounded by thoughts and visions of happiness, +more romantic and tender than had ever visited her before. + +As the year sped on its course, Will's college life became more and +more absorbing. The greater part of his vacations were always spent at +Isderi, his uncle's house, situated some twenty miles up the valley of +the On. Invited with his uncle to all the gaieties of the +neighbourhood, he frequently met Gwenda Vaughan. Their attraction for +each other soon ripened into a deeper feeling, and in the opinion of +her friends and acquaintances Gwenda was a fortunate girl, Will being +regarded only as the nephew and probable heir of the wealthy Dr. Owen, +very few knowing of or remembering his connection with the old +grey-gabled farm by the sea. + +A hurried scrap-end of the time at his disposal was spent at Garthowen, +where his father was consumed alternately by a feverish longing to see +him, and a bitter disappointment at the shortness of his visit. He was +beginning to find out that the love--almost idolatry--which he had +lavished upon his son did not bring him the comfort and happiness for +which he had hoped. + +Will was affable and sometimes affectionate in his demeanour while he +was present with his father; but he showed no desire to prolong his +visits beyond the time allotted him by his uncle, who seemed more and +more to appropriate to himself the nephew whose acquaintance he had so +lately made. This in itself chafed and irritated Ebben Owens, and he +felt a bitter anger against the brother who had ignored him for so +long, and was now stealing from him what was more precious to him than +life itself. He tried to rejoice in his son's golden prospects, and +perhaps would have succeeded had Will shown himself less ready to drop +the old associations of home and the past, and a more tender clinging +to the friends of his youth; but this was far from being Will's state +of feeling. More and more he felt how incongruous were the simple ways +of Garthowen with the formal and polished manners of his uncle's +household, and that of the society to which his uncle's prestige had +given him the entrée. He was not so callous as to feel no pain at the +necessity of withdrawing himself entirely from his old relations with +Garthowen, but he considered it his bounden duty to do so. He had +chosen his path; he had put his hand to the plough, and he must not +look back, and the dogged persistence which was a part of his nature +came to his assistance. + +"_I_ could pay all your expenses, my boy," said his father, with a +touching humility unnoticed by Will. "I have been saving up all my +money since you went to college, and now there it is lying idle in the +bank." + +"Well, father, it would only offend my uncle if I did not let him +supply all my wants; and as my future depends so much upon him, would +it be wise of me to do that?" + +"No, no, my boy, b'tshwr, it wouldn't. I am a foolish old man, and +must not keep my boy back when he is getting on so grand. Och fi! Och +fi!" and he sighed deeply. + +"Och fi!" laughed Ann and Will together. + +"One would think 'twas the downward path Will was going," said the +former. + +"No, no!" replied the old man, "'tis the path of life I was thinking +of, my children. You don't know it yet, but when you come to my age +perhaps you will understand it," and he sighed again wearily. + +He had altered much of late, a continual sadness seemed to have fallen +on his spirit, the old pucker on his forehead was seldom absent now, he +was irritable and ready to take offence, and if not spoken to, would +remain silently brooding in the chimney corner. + +On the contrary, Ann's whole nature seemed to have expanded. Her happy +married life drew out the brightness and cheerfulness which perhaps had +been a little lacking in her early girlhood. + +Gwilym Morris was an ideal husband; tender and affectionate as a woman, +but withal firm and steady as steel; a strong support in worldly as +well as spiritual affairs. Latterly the extreme narrowness of the +Calvinistic doctrines, which had made his sermons so unlike his daily +practice, had given place to broader views, and a more elevating +realisation of the Creator's love. Many hours he spent with Sara in +her herb garden, on the moor, or sitting by the crackling fire, +conversing on things of spiritual import; and the well-read scholar +confessed that he had learnt much from the simple woman, the keen +perception of whose sensitive soul, had in a great measure separated +her from her kind, and had made her to be avoided as something uncanny +or "hyspis." + +And what of Morva? To her, too, time had brought its changes. She was +now two years older, and certainly more than two years wiser, for upon +her clear mind had dawned in unmistakeable characters of light, the +truth, that her relations with Will were wrong. She knew now that she +did not love him--she knew now it would be sinful to marry him, and she +sought only for a way in which she could with the least pain to him, +sever the connection between them. She saw plainly, that Will had +ceased to love her, and she rejoiced at the idea that it would not be +difficult therefore to persuade him to release her from her promise. +When one day she met him on the path to the moor, and he tried as of +old to draw her nearer and imprint a kiss on her lips she started from +him. + +"No, Will," she said, "that must not be. You must let me go now. Do +you think I do not see you have changed, that you have ceased to love +me?" + +Will noticed at once the dropping of the familiar "thee" and "thou"; +and in his strange nature, where good and bad were for ever struggling +with each other, a fierce anger awoke. That she--Morva! a shepherdess! +a milkmaid! should dare to oppose the wishes of the man who had once +ruled her heart, and at whose beck and call she would have come as +obediently as Tudor--that she should now set her will in opposition to +his, and dare to ruffle the existence which had met with nothing but +favour and success, was unbearable. + +"What dost mean by these words, lodes?[1] how have I ever shown that I +have forgotten thee? Dost expect me, who have my studies to employ me, +and my future to consider--dost expect me to come philandering here on +the cliffs after a shepherdess?" + +"No," said Morva, trying to curb her hot Welsh temper, which rushed +through her veins, "no! I only ask you to free me from my promise. I +have sworn that I would keep it, but if you do not wish it, He will not +expect me to keep my vow. I see that plainly. It would be a sin--so +let me go, Will," and her voice changed to plaintive entreaty; "I will +be the same loving sister to you as ever--set me free!" + +"Never," said Will, the old cruel obstinacy taking possession of him, a +vindictive anger rising within him against the man whom he suspected +had taken his place in the girl's heart. Gethin--the wild and roving +sailor! No! he should never have her. + +"Thou canst break thy promises," he said, turning on his heel, "and +marry another man if thou wilt, but remember _I_ have never set thee +free. I have never agreed to give thee up;" and without another word +he passed round the broom bushes, leaving Morva alone gazing out over +the blue bay. + +As he returned to the farm he was filled with indignation and anger. +The obstinacy which was so strong a trait in his character was the real +cause of his refusal to give Morva her freedom, for the old love for +her was fast giving place to his new-born passion for Gwenda Vaughan, +which had grown steadily ever since he had first met her. + + + +[1] Girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ISDERI + +Three miles above Llaniago, the river On, which had flowed peaceably +and calmly for some miles through fair meadows and under the spanning +arches of many a bridge, seemed to grow weary of its staid behaviour +and suddenly to return to the playful manners of its youth. In its +wild exuberance it was scarcely recognisable as the placid river which, +further in its course, flowed through Llaniago and Castell On. With +fret and fume and babbling murmurs it made its way through its rocky +channel, filling the air with the sound of its turmoil. Both sides of +its precipitous banks down to the water's edge were hidden in woods of +stunted oak, through whose branches the sound of its flow made +continual music, music which this evening reached the ears of a +solitary man, who sat at the open window of a large house standing near +the top of the ravine, its well-kept grounds and velvet lawn reaching +down to the very edge of the oak wood, and even stretching into its +depths in many a green glade and avenue. There was no division or +boundary between the wood and the lawn, so that the timid hares and +pheasants would often leave their leafy haunts to disport themselves +upon its soft turf. It was Dr. Owen who, contrary to his usual careful +habits, sat at that open window in the gathering twilight, dreaming +dreams which were borne to him on the sound of the rushing waters, +which lulled his senses, and brought before him the scenes of his past +life. The twilight darkened into gloom, and still he sat on in +brooding thought, letting the voice of the river bear to him on its +wings sweet memories or sad retrospect as it chose. The early days of +his childhood came back to him, when with a light heart he had roamed +over moor and sandy beach, or over the grassy slopes of Garthowen. The +river still sang on, and before him rose the vision of a man of homely +and rustic appearance, who urged and encouraged his youthful ardour in +the pursuit of knowledge, who rejoiced at his successes, and supplied +his wants, who laid his hand upon his young head with a dying blessing. +How vividly the scene returned to him! The dismay of the household +when that rugged figure disappeared from the scene, the difficulties +which had crowded his path in the further pursuance of his education, +the arduous steps up the ladder of learning, the perseverance crowned +with success! Still the rushing river filled his ears and brought +before him its phantom memories--his successful career in the +Church--his prosperous marriage, the calm domestic life which +followed--the wealth--the honour--the prestige--what had they led +to?--an empty home, a solitary hearth, no heir to inherit his riches, +no young voices to fill the house with music and laughter--no--it had +all turned to dust and ashes--there was no one to whom he could confide +his joys or his sorrows--he was alone in the world, but need it always +be so? and again he listened, deep in thought, to the spirit voices +which the roar of the river seemed to carry into his soul. What a +change would Will's presence bring into his life. How much ruddier +would be the glow of the fire! how much more cosy the lonely hearth! +How pleasant it would be to see him always seated at the well-appointed +table! how the silver and glass would sparkle! how they would wake the +echoes of the old house with happy talk and merry laughter! and the old +man became quite enamoured of the picture which his imagination had +conjured up. + +"Yes," he said aloud, for there was no one to hear him, "I will no +longer live alone; I will adopt Will as my son and heir. I think he is +all I could wish him to be, and I believe he will reflect credit on my +choice." + +And when he closed the window and turned to his book and reading-lamp +it was with a pleased smile of content, and a determination to carry +out his plans without delay. Will should be fully informed of his +intentions. + +"It will give him confidence," thought the old man, and the feeling of +kinship which had so long slept within him began to awake and to fill +his heart with a warm glow which he had missed so long, though perhaps +unconsciously. + +In the following week Will came for a two days' visit, and Dr. Owen +looked forward to their evening smoke with eager impatience. When at +last they were seated in the smoking-room and Will had, with thoughtful +care, pushed the footstool towards him and placed the lamp in his +favourite position on the table at his back, he no longer delayed the +hour of communication. + +"Thank you, my boy, I quite miss you when you are away; you seem to +fall into your place here so naturally I almost wish your college life +was over so that I might see more of you." + +"It would be strange if I did not feel at home here, you are so +indulgent to me, uncle. If I were your own son I don't think you could +be kinder." + +"Well, Will, that is what I want you to become--my own son, the comfort +of my declining years, and the heir to my property when I die. Does +that agree with your own plans for the future, or does it clash with +your inclination?" + +"Sir! Uncle!" exclaimed Will, in delighted astonishment, "how can I +answer such a question? Such a change in my prospects takes my breath +away. What can I say to you? I had never thought of such a thing," +and he rose, with a heightened colour and an air of excited surprise, +which left Dr. Owen no doubt as to the reality of his feelings. They +were not, however, altogether real, for Will had latterly begun to +suspect the true meaning of his uncle's kindness to him. + +"There is only one thing to be said, sir. Did it clash with my own +plans there would be no sacrifice too great for me to make in return +for your kindness. But you must know, uncle, that not only the ties of +gratitude compel me, but the bonds of relationship and affection (may I +say love) are strong upon me, and I can only answer once more that I +accept your generosity with the deepest gratitude. I little thought a +year ago that I should ever feel towards you as I do now. I felt a +foolish, boyish resentment at the enstrangement between you and my +father, but now I am wiser, I see the reason of it. I know how +impossible it would be to combine the social duties of a man in your +position with continued intimate relations with your old home. The +impossibility of it even now hampers me, uncle, and I feel that it will +be well for me to break away from the old surroundings if I am ever to +make my way up the ladder of life. Your generous intentions towards me +smooth this difficulty, and I can only thank you again, uncle, from my +heart. I hope my conduct through life may be such that you will never +regret the step you have taken, certainly I shall endeavour to make it +so." + +"Agreed, my boy!" said the Dr., holding out his hand, which Will +grasped warmly, "we understand each other, from this time forward you +are my adopted son; the matter is settled, let us say no more about +it," and for a few moments the two men followed the train of their own +thoughts in silence. + +"How plainly we hear the On to-night," said Will, "it seems to fill the +air. Shall I close the window?" + +"Yes," said Dr. Owen, "if you like, Will; I have never heard it so +plainly before. There is something solemn at all times in the sound; +but to you it can bring no sad memories from the days gone bye, you +have so lately left that wonderful past, which, as we grow older, +becomes ever more and more bathed in the golden tints of imagination, +'that light which never was on sea or land.' You owe something to +those rushing waters, Will, for while I sat here alone one evening, +they flooded my soul with old and tender memories, and bore in upon me +the advisability of the offer which I have just made you, and to which +you have agreed." + +Not a word was said as to the possibility of Ebben Owens objecting to +the arrangement, in fact, neither of them thought of the old man, who +even now was sitting in the chimney corner at Garthowen, building +castles in the air, and dreaming dreams in which Will ever played the +part of hero. + +Later on, when the latter lay wakeful in the silent hours of night, the +distant roar of the river carried home to his heart too, the memory of +the old homestead, of many a scene of his careless and happy boyhood, +and of the old man, the warmth of whose affection for him he was +beginning to find rather irksome and embarrassing. + +On the following day Dr. Owen called all his servants together, and in +a few words but with a very decided manner, made them acquainted with +the important step which he had taken with regard to Will, and bade +them bear in mind, that for the future, his nephew would hold, next to +himself, the highest place in the household. Will had been careful to +ingratiate himself as much as possible with the old servants, whose +opinions he thought might weigh somewhat in their master's decisions, +the younger ones he treated with a somewhat haughty bearing. + +"You will be coming again next week," said the Dr., as they both sat at +dinner together; "the Trevors are coming, you know, to spend a few days +with me, a long promised visit. We shall have a day with the otter +hounds. Colonel Vaughan and Miss Gwenda are coming too, did I tell +you?" + +"No," said Will, "I did not know that. Do they often stay with you?" + +"No, they have never been here before. They were dining at the +Trevors. I included them in the invitation, and they promised to come. +Miss Gwenda is a great favourite of mine, and of yours, Will, eh? Am I +right?" + +Will's handsome face flushed as he answered with some embarrassment, +for he was not at all sure that his uncle would approve of the +entanglement of a love affair. + +"I--I. Well, sir, no one can be acquainted with Miss Vaughan without +being impressed by her charms both of mind and person, but further than +that, it would--I have no right to--in fact, uncle, it would be madness +for a young man in my station, I mean--of my obscure birth, to think of +a young lady like Miss Vaughan." + +"Oh, that you can leave out of your calculations henceforth, I imagine. +I know the world better than you do, Will, and I shall be much +surprised if the advantages of being my adopted son and my heir will +not far outweigh the fact of your rustic birth. Money is the lever +which moves the world now-a-days. That has been my experience, and, if +you act up to the position which I offer you, your old home will not +stand in your way much. Of course I need not tell a young man of your +sense and shrewdness that it will not be necessary for you to allude to +it. Let the past die a natural death." + +This was exactly what Will meant to do, but, expressed in his uncle's +cold, business-like tones, its callousness jarred upon him, and he felt +some twinges of conscience, and a regretful sympathy with his old +father rose in his heart, which brought a lump in his throat and an +unwonted moisture in his eyes. But he mastered the feeling, and +assumed an air of pleased compliance which for the moment he did not +feel. + +"As for Gwenda Vaughan," continued his uncle, "you could never make a +choice that would please me better; and, if she is at all inclined +towards you, I fancy you will find your stay together here will mark a +new era in your acquaintance." + +"I do not think she dislikes me," said Will; "but more than that it +would be presumption on my part to expect." + +"H'm. Faint heart never won fair lady," laughed the Dr. + +Will left Isderi much elated by his good fortune. Fortunately for him, +he was possessed of a full share of common sense which came to his aid +at this dangerous crisis of his life and prevented his head being +completely turned by the bright hopes and golden prospects which his +uncle's conversation suggested to him. It had been settled between +them that it would be advisable not to make Ebben Owens at once +acquainted with their plans, but to let the fact dawn upon him +gradually. + +"He will like it, my dear boy," said his uncle, when Will a little +demurred to the necessity of keeping his father in the dark; "he will +be proud of it when he sees the real and tangible advantages which you +will gain by the arrangement. You will go and see him sometimes as +before, and it need make no difference in your manner towards him, +which, I have no doubt, has always been that of a dutiful son." + +One day in the following week, Will returned to Isderi; and it was with +a delightful feeling of prospective proprietorship that he slipped into +the high dog-cart which his uncle sent for him. He took the reins, +naturally, into his own hands, and the servant seemed to sink naturally +into his place beside him; and if, as he drove with a firm hand the +high-stepping, well-groomed horse along the high-road, he felt his +heart swell with pride and self congratulation, can it be wondered at? + +On reaching the drive, which wound through the park-like grounds, he +overtook his uncle and Colonel Vaughan. Alighting, he joined them; and +Dr. Owen introduced him to his visitor. + +"Ah! yes, yes, your nephew of course--we have met before," said the old +man awkwardly, and he shook hands with Will in a bewildered manner. +"Of course, of course; I remember your pluck when you tackled that +bull. Pommy word I think Gwenda owes her life to you. I shall never +forget that, you know." + +"Well, you must give me a fuller account of that affair some day," said +Dr. Owen. "You are come just in time, Will. Colonel Vaughan suggests +that a break in those woods, so as to show the river, would be an +improvement, and I think I agree with him. What do you say to the +idea?" + +"I think Colonel Vaughan is quite right, uncle; the same thing had +already struck me." + +"That's right; then that settles the matter," said Dr. Owen, who had +determined to leave no doubt in his guest's mind of his nephew's +importance in his estimation, and of his generous intentions towards +him. + +Gwenda was sitting alone in the drawing-room when Will entered, and it +was a great relief to him that this was the case, for he was not yet so +completely accustomed to the small convenances of society as to feel no +awkwardness or nervousness upon some occasions. Free from the +restraint of Mrs. Trevor's presence, however, he made no attempt to +hide the pleasure which his meeting with Gwenda aroused in him. She +was looking very beautiful in a dress of some soft white material, and +as she held out her hand to Will a strange feeling came over him, a +feeling that that sweet face would for ever be his lodestar, and that +firm little white hand would help him on the path of life. He scarcely +dared to believe that the blush and the drooping eyes were caused by +his arrival, but it was not long before he had conquered his +diffidence, and remembering his golden prospects had recovered his +self-confidence sufficiently to talk naturally and unrestrainedly. + +"Never saw such a thing," said the old colonel, later on in the day, to +his niece, sitting down beside her for a moment's talk, under cover of +a song which Mrs. Trevor was singing. "Dr. Owen seems wrapped up in +his nephew, and the fellow seems to take it all as naturally as a duck +takes to the water. Pommy word, he's a lucky young dog." + +And naturally and quietly Will did take his place in the household, +never pleasing his uncle more than when he sometimes unconsciously gave +an order to the servants, and so took upon himself the duties which +would have devolved upon him had he been his son instead of his nephew. + +Gradually, too, Colonel Vaughan became accustomed to the change in the +"young fellow's" circumstances, and accepted the situation with +equanimity. Will left no stone unturned to ingratiate himself with the +old man, and was very successful in his attempts. So much so, that +when he and Gwenda would sometimes step out of the French window +together, and roam through the garden and under the oak trees side by +side, her uncle noticed it no more than he would have had Will been one +of the average young men of On-side society. + +Meanwhile, for the two young people, the summer roses had a deeper +glow, the river a sweeter murmur, and the sky a brighter tint than they +had ever had before; and while Gwenda sat under the shade of the +gnarled oaks, with head bent over some bit of work, Will lying on the +green sward beside her in a dream of happiness, Mrs. Trevor watched +them from her seat in the drawing-room with a smile full of meaning, +and Dr. Owen with a look of pleased content. + +"You must find it a very pleasant change from hard study to come out +here sometimes," said Gwenda, drawing her needle out slowly. + +"Yes, very," said Will; "I never bring a book with me, and I try to +banish my studies from my mind while I am here." + +"Do you find that possible? I am afraid I have a very ill-regulated +mind, as an interesting subject will occupy my thoughts whether I like +it or not." + +"Well, of course," said Will, plucking at the grass, "there are some +subjects which never can be banished. There is one, at all events, +which permeates my whole life; which gilds every scene with beauty, and +which tinges even my dreams. Need I tell you what that is, Miss +Vaughan?" + +Gwenda's head bent lower, and there was a vivid glow on her cheek as +she answered: + +"Your life here must be so full of brightness, the scenes around you +are so lovely, it is no wonder if they follow you into your dreams. +But--but, Mr. Owen, I will not pretend to misunderstand you." + +"You understand me, and yet you are not angry with me? Only tell me +that, Miss Vaughan, and I shall be satisfied; and yet not quite +satisfied, for I crave your love, and can never be happy without it." + +There was no answer on Gwenda's lips, but the eyes, which were bent on +her work, grew humid with feeling. + +"I love you, but dare I have the presumption to hope that you return my +love? You know me here as my uncle's nephew, but it is not in that +character that I would wish you to think of me now." + +What was it in the girl's pure and honest face which seemed to bring +out Will's better nature? + +"I am only William Owens" (he even added the plebeian "s" to his name) +"the son of the old farmer Ebben Owens of Garthowen; 'tis true my uncle +calls me his son, and promises that I shall inherit his wealth, but +there is no legal certainty of that. He might die to-morrow, and I +should only be William Owens, the poor student of Llaniago College, and +yet I venture to tell you of my love. I think I must be mad! I seek +in vain for any possible reason why you should accept my love, and I +can find none." + +"Only the best of all reasons," said Gwenda, almost in a whisper. + +"Gwenda! what is that?" said Will, rising to his feet, an action which +the girl followed before she answered. + +"Only because I love you too." + +"Gwenda!" said Will again. + +They had been resting on the velvet lawn that reached down to the oak +wood, and now they turned towards its shady glades, and Mrs. Trevor, +who had been watching them with deep interest, was obliged to control +her curiosity until, when an hour later, they entered the house +together, Will looking flushed and triumphant, and Gwenda with a glow +of happiness which told its own tale to her observant friend. + +"It's all right, my love, I see it is! I needn't ask any questions, he +who runs may read! You have accepted him?" + +"I don't know what my uncle will say, it all depends upon that." + +"Never mind what he says, my dear. You and I together will manage him, +we'll make him say just what we please, so _that's_ settled!" + +In fact, Will's wooing seemed to belie the usual course of true love. +Upon it as upon everything else connected with him, the fates seemed to +smile, and Colonel Vaughan was soon won over by Gwenda's persuasions. + +"Well! pommy word, you know, Gwenda, I like the young fellow myself. +Somehow or other he has taken us by storm. Of course, I should have +been better pleased if he were Dr. Owen's son instead of his nephew." + +"Well, he is next thing to it, uncle," said the girl coaxingly. "He is +his adopted son, and will inherit all his wealth, and you know how +necessary it is for me to marry a rich man, as I haven't a penny +myself. Of course I will never marry him without your consent, uncle +dear, but then I am going to get it," and she sat on his knee and drew +her soft hands over his bald head, turning his face up like a cherub's, +and pressing her full red lips on his wiry moustache. + +"Not a penny yourself! Well! well! we'll see about that. Be good, +girl, and love your old uncle, and I daresay he won't leave you +penniless. But, pommy word! look here, child, we must ask him here to +stay a few days. He won't be bringing old Owens Garthowen here, I +hope; couldn't bear that, you know." + +"I am afraid he doesn't see much of his old father and sister," she +said pensively. + +"Afraid! I should think you would be delighted." + +"No, I should prefer his being manly enough to stick to his own people, +and brave the opinion of the world. _I_ should not be ashamed of the +old man; but, of course, I would never thrust him upon my relations." + +"Well! well! you are an odd little puss, and know how to get over your +old uncle, whatever!" + +And so all went smoothly for Will. At the end of two years he took his +degree, and another year saw him well through his college course; +complimented by his fellow students, praised and flattered by his +uncle, and loved by as sweet a girl as ever sprang from a Welsh stock. + +Before entering upon the curacy which his uncle procured for him with +as little delay as possible, he spent a few days at Garthowen, during +which time he was made the idol of his family. Full of new hopes and +ambitions, he scarcely thought of Morva, who kept out of his way as +much as possible, dreading only the usual request that she would meet +him by the broom bushes; but no such request came, and, if the truth be +told, he never remembered to seek an interview with her, so filled was +his mind with thoughts of Gwenda. + +He had been studiously reticent with regard to his engagement to her, +at her special request. She knew how much gossip the news would +occasion, and felt that the less it was talked about beforehand the +less likelihood there would be of her relations being irritated and +annoyed by ill-natured remarks. She was happier than she had ever +hoped to be, and if she sometimes saw in her lover a trait of character +which did not entirely meet the approbation of her honest nature, she +laid the flattering unction to her soul, "When we are married I will +try to make him perfect." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +GWENDA AT GARTHOWEN + +On the slope of the moor, where the autumn sun was burnishing the furze +and purpling the heather, Morva sat knitting, her nimble fingers outrun +by her busy thoughts. + +She was sitting half way up the moor, an old cloak wrapped round her +and its hood drawn over her head, for the wind was keen, blowing fresh +from the bright blue bay, which stretched before her to the hazy +horizon. Her eyes gazed absently over its azure surface, flecked with +white, as though with scattered snowflakes, and dotted here and there +with the grey sails of the boats which the herring fishery called out +from their moorings under the cliffs. She sat at the edge of a +rush-bordered pool in the peaty bog, occasionally bending over it to +look at her own image reflected on its glassy surface. Between the +folds of the old cloak glistened the necklace of shells which Gethin +had given her. It was her twentieth birthday, so she seized the excuse +for wearing the precious ornament which generally lay locked in its +painted casket on the shelf at her bed head. It was not at herself she +gazed, but the ever-changing gleam of the shells was irresistible. How +well she remembered that evening when in the moonlight under the elder +tree at Garthowen, Gethin had held them out to her, with a dawning love +in his eyes, and her heart had bounded towards him with that strong +impulse, which alas! she now knew was love!--love that permeated her +whole being, that drew her thoughts away on the wings of the wind, over +the restless sea, away, away, to distant lands and foreign ports. +Where did he roam? What foreign shores did his footsteps tread? In +what strange lands was he wandering? far from his home, far from the +hearts that loved him and longed for his return! The swallows flew in +fluttering companies over the moor, beginning to congregate for their +departure across the seas. Oh! that she could borrow their wings, and +fly with them across that sad dividing ocean, and, finding Gethin, +could flutter down to him and shelter on his breast, and twitter to him +such a song of love and home that he should understand and turn his +steps once more towards the old country! + +Will never troubled her now, never asked her to meet him behind the +broom bushes. He had ceased to love her, she knew, and although he had +never freed her from her promise, Morva had too much common sense to +feel bound for ever to a man who had so evidently forgotten her. If +sometimes the meanness and selfishness of his conduct dawned upon her +mind, the feeling was instantly repressed, and as far as possible +banished, in obedience to the instinct of loyalty to Garthowen, which +was so strong a trait in her character. + +She turned again to look at her necklace in the pool, and caught sight +of a speck of vivid scarlet on the brow of the hill--another and +another. They were the huntsmen returning from their unsuccessful run, +for she had seen the breathless panting fox an hour before when he +crossed the moor and made for his covert on the rocky sides of the +cliffs. Once there, the hunters knew the chase was over. And there +were the tired hounds for a moment appearing at the bare hill-top. In +a few moments they had passed from sight, leaving the moor to its usual +solitude and silence. But surely no! Here was one stray figure who +turned towards the cliffs, and, alighting, led her horse down the +devious paths between the furze and heather. Such an uncommon sight +roused Morva from her dreams. + +"Can I come down this way?" said a clear, girlish voice, as Gwenda +Vaughan drew near. She spoke in very broken Welsh, but Morva +understood her. "Does it lead anywhere?" + +"It leads nowhere," said Morva, "but to the cliffs; but round there +beyond the Cribserth," and she pointed to the rugged ridge of rocks, +"is Garthowen; up there to the right is nothing but moorland for two +miles." + +"Oh, then I will turn this way," said Gwenda. "Will they let me rest +at the farm a while, do you think? I am very tired and hungry." + +"Oh, of course," said Morva, her hospitable instincts awaking at once. +"Come into mother's cottage," and she pointed to the thatched roof and +chimney, which alone were visible above the heathery knoll. + +"Is that a cottage?" + +"Yes--will you come?" + +"Yes, just for a moment, and then perhaps you will show me the way to +the farm. That Cribserth looks a formidable rampart. Are you sure +there is a way round it?" + +"Oh, yes; I will come and show you," said Morva. "Here is mother," and +Sara approached from her herb garden with round, astonished eyes. + +"Well, indeed!" she said; "this is a pleasant sight--a lady coming to +see us, and on Morva's birthday, too! Come in, 'merch i, and sit down +and rest. The horse will be safe tied there to the gate." + +And Gwenda passed into the cottage with a strange feeling of happiness. + +"Now, what shall I give you?" said Sara. "A cup of milk, or a cup of +tea? or, I have some meth here in the corner. My bees are busy on the +wild thyme and furze, you see, so we have plenty of honey for our meth." + +"I would like a cup of meth," said Gwenda; and as she drank the +delicious sparkling beverage, Sara gazed at her with such evident +interest that she was constrained to ask: + +"Why do you look at me so?" + +"Because I think I have seen you before," said the old woman. + +"Not likely," replied Gwenda, "unless in the streets at Castell On." + +"I have not been there for twenty years," said Sara. "It must be in my +dreams, then." + +"Perhaps! What delicious meth! Who would think there was room for +house and garden scooped out on the moor here; and such a dear +sheltered hollow." + +Sara smiled. + +"Yes; we are safe and peaceful here." + +Morva had taken the opportunity of doffing her necklace and placing it +in the box. + +"I am going to show the young lady the way to Garthowen, mother." + +"Yes; it is easy from there to Castell On," said Sara; "the farm lane +will lead you into the high road. But 'tis many, many years since I +have been that way." + +The chat fell into quite a friendly and familiar groove, for Sara and +Morva knew nothing of the restraints of class and conventionality. + +"I am so glad I came; but I must go now," said Gwenda, rising at last. +"My name is Gwenda Vaughan," she added, turning to Morva. "What is +yours?" + +"Mine is Morva Lloyd; but I am generally called Morva of the Moor, I +think. Mother's is Sara." + +"Good-bye, and thank you very much," said Gwenda, and Sara held her +hand a moment between her own soft palms, while she looked into the +girl's face. + +"You have a sweet, good face," she said. "Thank you for coming, 'merch +i; in some way you will bring us good." + +And again that strangely happy feeling came over Gwenda. Rounding the +Cribserth, the two girls soon reached Garthowen. It was afternoon, and +drawing near tea-time. Ebben Owens was already sitting on the settle +in the best kitchen, waiting for it, when the sound of voices without +attracted his attention. + +"Caton pawb!" he said, "a lady, and Morva is bringing her." + +Ann hastened to the front door, and Morva led the horse away, knowing +well that she was leaving the visitor in hospitable hands. + +"I am Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny! I have been out hunting today, and on +the top of the hill I felt so tired that I made up my mind to call here +and ask if you would let me rest awhile." + +"Oh, certainly! Come in," said Ann, holding out her hand, which Gwenda +took warmly. + +"Miss Owen, I suppose?" + +"I was Ann Owens," she said, blushing. "I am Mrs. Gwilym Morris now +these three years. This is my little boy," she added, as a chubby, +curly-headed child toddled towards her. She had already opened the +door of the best kitchen. "There is no fire in the parlour," she +apologised, "or I would take you there." + +"Oh, no; please let me come to your usual sitting-room. Is this your +father?" + +And she held out her hand again. There was something in her face that +always ensured its own welcome. + +"Yes, I am Ebben Owens," said the old man, "and very glad to see you, +though I not know who you are." + +"I am Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny, come to ask if you will let me rest +awhile. I have been out with the fox-hounds; we have had a long run, +and I am so tired." + +She had no other excuse to give for her inroad upon their hearth; but +in Wales no excuse is required for a call. + +"Well, indeed," said the old man, rubbing his knees with pleasure, +"there's a good thing now, you come just in time for tea. I think I +have heard your name, but I not know where. Oh, yes. I remember now; +'twas you the bull was running after in the market, and my boy Will +stop it; 'twas good thing, indeed, you may be kill very well!" + +Gwenda stopped to pat Tudor to hide the blush that rose to her cheek as +she answered: + +"Yes, indeed, and of course we were very grateful to him!" + +"Oh, yes; he's very good fellow. Will you take off your hat? 'Tis not +often we're having visitors here, so we are very glad when anybody is +come." + +"I was afraid, perhaps, I was taking rather a liberty," said Gwenda, +laying her hat and gloves aside, "but you are all so kind, you make me +feel quite at home." + +"That's right," said the old man; "there's a pity now, my son-in-law, +Gwilym Morris, is not at home. He was go to Castell On to-day to some +meeting there. What was it? Let me see--some hard English word." + +"I can speak Welsh," said Gwenda, turning to that language. + +"Oh! wel din!" said the old man, relieved, and continuing in Welsh, +"'tisn't every lady can speak her native language nowadays." + +"No. I am ashamed of my countrywomen, though I speak it very badly +myself," said Gwenda. + +"There's my son Will now, indeed I'm afraid he will soon forget his +Welsh, he is speaking English so easy and smooth. Come here, Ann," the +old man called, as his daughter passed busily backwards and forwards +spreading the snowy cloth and laying the tea-table. "The lady can +speak Welsh!" + +"Oh! well indeed, I am glad," said Ann; "Will is the only one of us who +speaks English quite easily." + +"Oh! there's Gwilym," said her father. + +"Yes, Gwilym speaks it quite correctly," said Ann, with pride, "but he +has a Welsh accent, which Will has not--from a little boy he studied +the English, and to speak it like the English." + +"Will is evidently their centre of interest," thought Gwenda, "and how +little he seems to think of them!" + +Here the little curly pate came nestling against her knee. + +"Hello! rascal!" said the old man, "don't pull the lady's skirts like +that." + +But Gwenda took the child on her lap. + +"He is a lovely boy," she said, thus securing Ann's good opinion at +once. + +The little arms wound round her neck, and before tea was over she had +won her way into all their hearts. + +"I am sorry my sons are not here," said the old man; "they are good +boys, both of them, and would like to speak to such a beautiful young +lady." + +"Have you two sons, then?" asked Gwenda. + +"Yes, yes. Will, my second son, is a clergyman. He is curate of +Llansidan, 'tis about forty miles from here; but Gethin, my eldest son, +is a sailor; indeed, I don't know where he is now, but I am longing for +him to come home, whatever; and Will does not come often to see me. He +is too busy, I suppose, and 'tis very far." + +And Gwenda, sensitive and tender, heard a tremble in the old man's +voice, and detected the pain and bitterness of his speech. + +"Young men," she said, "are so often taken up with their work at first, +that they forget their old home, but they generally come back to it, +and draw towards it as they grow older; for after all, there is nothing +like the old home, and I should think this must have been a nest of +comfort indeed." + +"Well, I don't know. My two sons are gone over the nest, whatever; but +Ann is stopping with me, She is the home-bird." + +Gwenda thought she had never enjoyed such a tea. The tea cakes so +light, the brown bread so delicious; and Ann, with her quiet manners, +made a perfect hostess; so that, when she rose to go, she was as +reluctant to leave the old farmhouse as her entertainers were to lose +her. + +"Indeed, there's sorry I am you must go," said Ebben Owens. "Will you +come again some day?" + +"I will," said Gwenda, waving them a last good-bye; and as she rode +down the dark lane beyond the farmyard she said to herself, "And I +_will_ some day, please God!" + +Reaching the high road, she hurried down the hill to the valley below, +where Castell On lay nestled in the bend of the river. It was scarcely +visible in the darkening twilight, except here and there where a light +glimmered faintly. The course of the river was marked by a soft white +mist, and above it all, in the clear evening sky, hung the crescent +moon. The beauty of the scene before her reached Gwenda's heart, and +helped to fill her cup of happiness. Her visit to the farm had +strengthened her determination to turn her lover's heart back to his +old home. It was all plain before her now; she had a work to do, an +aim in life, not only to make her future husband happy, but to lead him +back into the path of duty, from which she clearly saw he had been +tempted to stray. There was no danger that she would take too harsh a +view of his fault, for her love for Will was strong and abiding. There +was little doubt that in that wonderful weaving of life's pattern, +which some people call "Fate" and some "Providence," Gwenda and Will +had been meant for each other. + +When she reached home she found a letter awaiting her--a letter in the +square clear writing which she had learned to look for with happy +longing. She hastened to her room to read it. It bore good +tidings--first, that Will had acceded to Mr. Price's request to preach +at Castell On the following Sunday; secondly and chiefly, that the +living of Llanisderi had been offered him, and had been accepted. + + +"The church is close to my uncle's property, and as he has always +wished me to make my home at Isderi, he now proposes that we should be +married at once, and take his house off his hands, only letting him +live on with us, which I think neither you nor I will object to. There +is no regular vicarage, so this arrangement seems all that could be +desired. Does my darling agree?" etc., etc. + + +Of course "his darling" agreed, stipulating only that their marriage +should take place in London, for she thought this plan would obviate +the necessity for inviting her husband's relations to her wedding, and +still cause them no pain. + +Will was delighted with the suggestion, for he had not been without +some secret twinges of compunction at the idea of being married at +Castell On, and still having none of his people at the wedding. That, +of course, in his own and his uncle's opinion was quite out of the +question; and so the matter was settled. + + * * * * * * + +One day there was great excitement at Garthowen. + +"Well, Bendigedig!" [1] said Magw under her breath, as crossing the +farmyard she met Mr. Price the vicar making his way through the stubble +to the house-door, "well, Bendigedig! there's grand we are getting. +Day before yesterday a lady on horseback, to-day Price the vicare +coming to see the mishteer! Well, well! Oh, yes, sare," she said +aloud, in answer to the vicar's inquiry, "he's there somewhere, or he +was there when I was there just now, but if he is not there he must be +somewhere else. Ann will find him." + +And she jerked her thumb towards the house as Mr. Price continued his +way laughing. + +"I am come again," said the genial vicar, shaking hands with Ebben +Owens, whom he found deeply studying the almanac, "I am come to +congratulate you on your son's good fortune. I hear he has been given +the living of Llanisderi, and I think he will fill it very well. You +are a fortunate man to have so promising a son and such an influential +brother, and I expect you will be still better pleased with the rest of +my news. He is going to preach at Castell On next Sunday." + +Ebben Owens gasped for breath. + +"Will!" he said, "my son Will? Oh! yes, he is a good boy, indeed, and +is he going to preach here on Sunday? Well, well, 'twill be a grand +day for me!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Price, "I hear he is a splendid preacher, and I thought +'twas a pity his old friends in this neighbourhood should not hear him, +so I asked him, and he has agreed to come. You must all come in and +hear him--you too, Mrs. Morris, and your husband." + +"My husband," said Ann, drawing herself up a little, "will have his own +services to attend to; but on such an occasion I will be there +certainly." + +"Well, you must all dine with me," said the hospitable vicar. + +"No, no, sir," said Ebben Owens, "I'll take the car, and we'll bring +Will back here to dinner. We'll have a goose, Ann, and a leg of mutton +and tongue." + +"Yes," said Ann, smiling, "Magw will see to them while we are at +church." + +Mr. Price stayed to tea this time, and satisfied the old man's heart by +his praises of his son. On his departure Ebben Owens sat down at once +to indite a letter to Will, informing him of the great happiness it had +given him to hear of his intention to preach at Castell On. + + +"Of course, my boy," he went on to say in his homely, rugged Welsh, "we +will be there to hear you, and I will drive you home in the car, and we +will have the fattest goose for dinner, and the best bedroom will be +ready for you. These few lines from + +"Your delighted and loving father, + + "EBBEN OWENS, + + "Garthowen." + + +Will crushed the letter with a sigh when he had read it, and threw it +into the fire, and the old Garthowen pucker on his forehead was only +chased away by the perusal of a letter from Gwenda, whose contents we +will not dare to pry into. + +Never were there such preparations for attending a service, as were +made at Garthowen before the next Sunday morning. Never had Bowler's +harness received such a polish, every buckle shone like burnished gold. +Ebben Owens had brushed his greatcoat a dozen times, and laid it on the +parlour table in readiness, and had drawn his sleeve every day over the +chimney-pot hat which he had bought for the occasion. + +When the auspicious morning arrived Ann arrayed herself in her black +silk, with a bonnet and cape of town fashion; and in the sunny frosty +morning they set off to Castell On, full of gratified pride and +pleasant anticipations. + +Leaving the car at a small inn near the church, they entered and took +their places modestly in the background. No one but he who reads the +secrets of all hearts knew what a tumult of feelings surged through the +breast of that rugged, bent figure as Will passed up the aisle, looking +handsomer than ever in his clerical garb. Thankfulness, pride, love, a +longing for closer communion with his son, were all in that throbbing +heart, but underneath and permeating all was the mysterious gnawing +pain that had lately cast its shadow over the old man's life. + +During the service both he and Ann were much perplexed by the +difficulty of finding their places in the prayer-book, and they were +greatly relieved when at last it was over and the sermon commenced. + +Mr. Price had not been misinformed. Will was certainly an eloquent +preacher, if not a born orator, and possessed that peculiar gift known +in Wales as "hwyl"--a sudden ecstatic inspiration, which carries the +speaker away on its wings, supplying him with burning words of +eloquence, which in his calmer and normal state he could never have +chosen for himself. Will controlled this feeling, not allowing it to +carry him to that degree of excitement to which some Welsh preachers +abandon themselves; on the contrary, when he felt most, he lowered his +voice, and kept a firm rein upon his eloquence. His command of +English, too, surprised his hearers, and Dr. Owen, himself a popular +preacher, confessed he had never possessed such an easy flow of that +language. As for Ebben Owens himself, as the sermon proceeded, +although he understood but little English, not a word, nor a phrase, +nor an inflection of the beloved voice escaped his attention; and as he +bent his head at the benediction tears of thankfulness, pride, and joy +filled his eyes. But he dried them hastily with his bran new silk +handkerchief, and followed Ann out of the church with the first of the +congregation. + +"We'll wait with the car," he said, "at the top of the lane. We won't +push ourselves on to him at the church door when all the gentry are +speaking to him." + +And Ann sat in the car with the reins in her hand, while the +congregation filed past, many of them turning aside to congratulate +warmly the father and sister of such a preacher. One by one the people +passed on, two or three carriages rolled by, and still Will had not +appeared. + +"Here he is, I think," said Ebben Owens, as two gentlemen walked slowly +up the lane, and watching them, he scarcely caught sight of a carriage +that drove quickly by. But a glance was enough as it turned round the +corner into the street. In it sat Will, accompanied by Dr. Owen, +Colonel Vaughan, and his niece. + +"Was that Will?" said Ann, looking round. + +"Yes," said her father faintly, looking about him in a dazed, confused +manner. He put his hand to his head and turned very pale. + +Ann was out of the car in a moment, flinging the reins to the stable +boy who stood at Bowler's head. + +"Come, father anwl!" she said, supporting the old man's tottering +steps, for he would have fallen had she not passed her strong arm round +him. "Come, we'll go home. You will be better once we are out of the +town," and with great difficulty she got him into the car. "Cheer up, +father bāch," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, though her own +voice trembled, and her eyes were full of tears. "No doubt he meant to +come, or he would have written, but I'm thinking they pressed him so +much that he couldn't refuse." + +"Yes, yes," said the old man in a weak voice; "no doubt, no doubt! +_'tis all right_, Ann; 'tis the hand of God." + +Ann thought he was wandering a little, and tried to turn his thoughts +by speaking of the sermon. + +"'Twas a beautiful sermon, father, I have never heard a better, not +even from Jones Bryn y groes." + +"Yes, I should think 'twas a good sermon, though I couldn't understand +the English well; only the text 'twas coming in very often 'Lord, try +me and see if there be any wicked way in me,'" and he repeated several +times as he drove home "'any wicked way in me.' Yes, yes, 'tis all +right!" + +When they reached home without Will, Gwilym Morris seemed to understand +at once what had happened, and he helped the old man out of the car +with a pat on his back and a cheery greeting. + +"Well, there now! didn't I tell you how it would be? Will had so many +invitations he could not come back with you. There was Captain Lewis +Bryneiron said, 'You must come and dine with me!' and Colonel Vaughan +Nantmyny said, 'He must come with me!' and be bound Sir John Hughes +wanted him to go to Plāsdū; so, poor fellow, he _had_ to go, and we've +got to eat our splendid dinner ourselves! Come along; such a goose you +never saw!" + +Ebben Owens said nothing, as he walked into the house, stooping more +than usual, and looking ten years older. + +There was dire disappointment in the kitchen, too, when the dinner came +out scarcely tasted. + +It is not to be supposed that by such observant eyes as Gwenda's, the +Garthowen car, with the waiting Ann and the old man hovering about, had +escaped unnoticed. Nay! To her quick perception the whole event +revealed itself in a flash of intuition. They were waiting there for +Will. He had disappointed and wounded his old father, but at the same +moment she saw that the slight had been unintentional; for as the +carriage dashed by the waiting car, she saw in Will's face a look of +surprise and distress, a hurried search in his pocket, and an unwelcome +discovery of a letter addressed and stamped--but, alas! unposted. The +pathetic incident troubled her not a little. An English girl would +probably have spoken out at once with the splendid honesty +characteristic of her nation, but Gwenda, being a thorough Welshwoman, +acted differently. With what detractors of the Celtic character would +probably call "craftiness," but what we prefer to call "tact and +tenderness," she determined not to ruffle the existing happy state of +affairs by risking a misunderstanding with her lover, but would rather +wait until, as a wife, she could bring the whole influence of her own +honest nature to bear upon this weak trait in his character. + +A few days later the announcement of his approaching marriage reached +Garthowen, in a letter from Will himself, enclosing the unposted +missive, which he had discovered in his pocket as he drove to Nantmyny +on the previous Sunday. + +It pacified the old man somewhat, but nothing availed to lift the cloud +which had fallen upon his life; and the intimation of the near approach +of his son's marriage with "a lady" coming upon him as it did +unexpectedly, was the climax of his depression of spirits. He sat in +the chimney-corner and brooded, repeating to himself occasionally in a +low voice: + +"Gone! gone! Both my boys gone from me for ever!" + +Ann and Gwilym's arguments were quite unheeded. Morva's sympathy alone +seemed to have any consoling effect upon him. She would kneel beside +him with her elbows on his knees, looking up into his face, and with +make-believe cheerfulness would reason with a woman's inconsequence, +fearlessly deducing results from causes which had no existence. + +"'Tis as plain as the sun in the sky, 'n'wncwl Ebben bāch! Gethin is +only gone on another voyage, and so will certainly be back here before +long. Well, you see he _must_ come, because he wouldn't like to see +his old father breaking his heart--not he! We know him too well. And +then there's his best clothes in the box upstairs! And there's the +corn growing so fast, he will surely be here for the harvest." + +She knew herself it was all nonsense, realising it sometimes with a +sudden sad wistfulness; but she quickly returned to her argument again. + +"Look at me now, 'n'wncwl Ebben!--Morva Lloyd, whom you saved from the +waves! Would I tell you anything that was not true? Of course, I +wouldn't indeed! indeed! and I'm sure he'll come soon. You may take my +word for it they will both come back very soon. I feel it in my heart, +and mother says so too." + +"Does she?" said the old man, with a little show of interest. "Does +Sara say so?" + +"Yes," said Morva; "she says she is sure of it." + +"Perhaps indeed! I hope she is right, whatever!" And he would lay his +hands on Morva's and Tudor's heads, both of whom leant upon his knees +and looked lovingly into his face. + + + +[1] "Blessed be!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +SARA + +For Gwenda and Will, from this time forward, all went "merry as a +marriage bell." Early in the spring their wedding took place in +London, and when one morning Morva brought from Pont-y-fro post office +a packet for Ebben Owens containing a wedge of wedding cake and cards, +he evinced some show of interest. On the box was written in Gwenda's +pretty firm writing, + +"With love to Garthowen, from William and Gwenda Owen." + +Ebben rubbed his knees with satisfaction. + +"There now," he said, "in her own handwriting, too! Well, indeed! I +thought she was a nice young lady that day she came here, but, caton +pawb! I never thought she would marry our Will." + +A second piece of cake was enclosed and addressed. "To my friends Sara +and Morva of the Moor," and Morva carried it home with mingled feelings +of pride and pleasure, but paramount was the joy of knowing that she +was completely released from the promise which had become so galling to +her. + +"I knew," said Sara, "that that face would bring us a blessing," and +she looked with loving inquiry into Morva's face, which was full of +varying expressions. + +At first, there was the pleasurable excitement of unfolding and tasting +the wedding cake, but it quickly gave way to a look of pensive sadness, +which somehow had fallen over the girl rather frequently of late; the +haunting thought of Gethin's absence, the cloud of suspicion which had +so long hung over him, (it was cleared away now, but it had left its +impress upon her life), her ignorance of his whereabouts, and above +all, a longing, hidden deep down in her heart, to meet him face to face +once more, to tell him that she was free, that no longer behind the +broom bushes need she turn away from him, or wrest her hands from his +warm clasp. All this weighed upon her mind, and cast a shadow over her +path, which she could not entirely banish. + +Sara saw the reflection of the sorrowful thought in the girl's +tell-tale eyes, and her tender heart was troubled within her. + +"A wedding cake is a beautiful thing," said Morva; "how do they make +it, I wonder? Ann said I must sleep with a bit of it under my pillow +to-night, and I would dream of my sweetheart, but that is nonsense." + +"Yes, 'tis nonsense," said Sara, "but 'tis an old-time fable; thee +canst try it, child," she added, smiling, and trying to chase away the +girl's look of sadness. + +"'Twould be folly indeed, for there is no sweetheart for me any more, +mother, now that Will is married. Oh! indeed, I hope that sweet young +lady will be happy, and Will too." + +"He will be happy, child; but for thee I am grieving. Thou art hiding +something from me; surely Will's marriage brings thee no bitterness?" + +"No, no," said the girl, "I am glad, mother, so thankful to be free; I +could sing with the birds for joy, and yet there is some shadow in my +heart. 'Tis for Garthowen, I think, 'n'wncwl Ebben is so sad--Gethin +has never come home, and that money, mother! who stole it and put it +back again? We used to be so happy, but now it seems like the +threatening of a stormy day." + +"Sometimes those stormy days are the end of rough weather, lass. +Through wind and cloud and lightning, God clears up the sky. Thee must +not lose patience, 'merch i; by and by it will be bright weather again." + +"Do you think, mother?" + +"Yes, I think--I am sure." + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, "you are always right; but oh! I am +forgetting my cheese, I set the rennet before I came out. I must run." + +And away she went, and in a short time had reached the dairy, where the +curdled milk was ready for her. First she went to the spring in the +yard to cool her hands and arms, and then with shining wooden saucer, +she broke up the creamy curds, gradually compressing them into a solid +mass, while the delicious whey was poured into a quaint brown earthen +pitcher. + +The clumsy door stood wide open, and the sunshine streamed in, and +glistened on the bright brass pan in which Morva was crumbling her +curds, her sleeves tucked up above her elbows, showing her dimpled +arms. With her spotless white apron, her neatly shod feet, and her +crown of golden hair, she looked like the presiding goddess of this +temple of cleanliness and purity. + +Round the walls stood shelves of the blue slaty stone of the +neighbourhood, upon which were ranged the pans of golden cream, above +them hanging the various dairy utensils of wood, polished black with +long use and rubbing. + +Morva's good spirits had returned, for she hummed as she rubbed her +curds: + + "Troodi! Troodi! come down from the mountain, + Troodi! Troodi! up from the dale! + Moelen and Trodwen, and Beauty and Blodwen, + I'll meet you all with my milking pail." + +Meanwhile at home in the thatched cottage on the moor Sara seemed to +have caught the mantle of sadness which had fallen from the girl's +shoulders. She went about her household duties singing softly it is +true, but there was a look of disquiet in her eyes not habitual to +them, an air of restlessness very unlike her usual placid demeanour. +For sixteen years her life and Morva's had been serene and uneventful, +the limited circle which bound the plane of their existence had been +complete and undisturbed by outward influences; but latterly unrest and +anxiety had entered into their quiet lives, there was a veiling of the +sun, there was a shadow on the path, a mysterious wind was ruffling the +surface of the sea of life. No trouble had touched Sara personally, +but what mattered that to one so sympathetic? She lived in the lives +of those she loved; and as she moved about in the subdued light of the +cottage, or in the broad sunshine of the garden, a thread of +disquietude ran through the pattern of her thoughts. The cause of +Morva's sadness she guessed at, but how to remove it, or how to bring +back the peace and happiness that seemed to have deserted the old +Garthowen homestead, she saw not yet. + +Suddenly she started, and standing still crossed her hands on her bosom +with a look of pleased expectancy; her lips moved as if in prayer, she +passed out into the garden, and gathering a bunch of rue, tied it +together and hung it to the frame of the doorway so that no one could +enter the house without noticing it. Then returning to the quiet +chimney corner, she sat down in the round-backed oak chair, and +clasping her hands on her lap, waited, while over her came the curious +trance-like sleep to which she had been subject at intervals all her +life. She was accustomed to these trances, and even welcomed their +coming for the sake of the clear insight and even the clairvoyance +which followed them. They were seasons of refreshing to this strange +woman's soul--seasons during which the connecting thread between spirit +and body was strained to the utmost, when a rude awakening might easily +sever that attenuated thread, when Morva knew that tender handling and +shielding care were required of her. In the evening when she returned +from the farm she came singing into the little court, where the gilly +flowers and daffodils were once more swaying in the wind, and the much +treasured ribes was hanging out its scented pink tassels. She stopped +to gather a spray, and then turning to the door, was confronted by the +bunch of rue, at sight of which she instantly ceased her singing and a +look of seriousness almost of solemnity came over her face, for the +herb had long been a pre-concerted signal between Sara and herself. + +She gently pulled the string which lifted the latch, and entered the +cottage, treading softly as one does where death has already entered. +The stillness was profound, for it was a calm day and the sea was +silent, the fire only crackling on the hearth. The old cat slept on +the spinning bench, and Sara lay there unconscious and dead to all +outward surroundings. Morva approached her softly, and pressed a kiss +on the marble forehead; she felt her hands, they were supple though +cold; the eyes were closed and the breathing was scarcely perceptible, +but Morva had no fear for Sara's safety. She gently raised her feet +upon the rush stool, and rested her head more comfortably; then bolting +the door and making up the fire, she took her supper and prepared for a +long night's vigil. + +And now came one of those seasons of contemplation and of wondering awe +which Sara's trances brought into Morva's simple life, which made her +somewhat different from the other girls of the neighbourhood, yet in no +way detracted from the brightness and cheerfulness of her character. +Magw, the house servant, was often out under the stars, but she paid +more attention to the stubble in the farmyard than to the glittering +spangled sky above her. Dyc "pigstye" often passed over the cliffs and +up the moor, but his own whistle, the bleat of the sheep, the lowing of +the herds, were more to him than the whispers of the sea or the singing +of the larks. Ebben Owens was out from morning to night, in the +brilliant sunshine, and under the mellow moon, but they taught no tale +to him, and brought no messages to his soul, save of crops, of work, of +harvests. But to Morva, every tint of broom or heather, every shade of +sea or sky, every flower that unfolded in the sunshine spoke and +stirred within her sentiments of love and wonder which she had no words +to express, but which left their impress upon her spirit. + +Sitting by the fire on her low stool, she kept a careful watch over the +still figure on the other side of the hearth. The night wind sighed in +the chimney, the owls hooted, and the sea whispered its mysterious +secrets on the shore below. The candle burnt low in its socket, and +Morva replaced it with another, for she would not be left in the dark +with this silent unconscious being, much as she loved her. + +Sometimes she ventured upon a gentle appeal, "Mother fāch!" but no +answer came from the closed lips, and again she waited while the night +hours passed on. + +"Where is her spirit wandering, I wonder?" thought the girl, setting +her untaught and inexperienced mind to work upon the fathomless +mystery. "Perhaps in the land which we roam in our dreams. 'Tis pity +she cannot remember; 'tis pity she cannot tell me about it, for, oh, I +would like to know." + +But to-night, at all events, it seemed there was to be no elucidation +of this enigma of life. The night hours dragged on slowly, and still +Sara slept on, until in the pale dawn Morva gently opened the door and +looked out towards the east, where a rosy light was beginning to flush +the clear blue of a cloudless sky. Already the sun was rising over the +grey slopes, the cottage walls caught the rosy tints, and the ribes +tree, which alone was tall enough to catch his beams over the high turf +wall of the court, glowed under his morning kiss. Morva looked round +the fair scene with eyes and heart that took in all its beauty. A cool +sea breeze, brine-laden, swept over the moor, refreshing and +invigorating her, and she turned again to the cottage with renewed +longing for Sara's awakening. + +When she entered, she found that the rays of the rising sun shone full +upon the quiet face, on the placid brow, and the closed eyes, imparting +to them a look of unearthly spirituality. Moved by the sight, and by +the events of the night, the girl knelt down, and, leaning her face on +her foster-mother's lap, said her prayers, with the same simple faith +as she had in the days of childhood. The sunlight pouring in through +the little window bathed her in a stream of rosy light, and rested on +her bent head like a blessing. As she rose from her knees a quiver +passed over Sara's eyelids, a smile came on her lips, and opening her +eyes she looked long at Morva before she spoke, as though recalling her +surroundings. + +"Mother," said the girl, kissing her cheek, which was beginning to show +again the hue of health. "Mother fāch, you've come back to me again." + +"Yes," said Sara, "I am come back again, child," and she attempted to +rise, but Morva pushed her gently back. + +"Breakfast first, mother fāch." + +And quickly and deftly she set the little brown teapot on the embers, +and spread her mother's breakfast before her. + +"Now, mother, a new-laid egg and some brown bread and butter." + +And Sara smilingly complied with the girl's wishes, and partook of the +simple fare. + +"Mother, try and remember where you have been. Oh, I want to know so +much." + +"I cannot, 'merch i, already it is slipping away from me as usual; but +never mind, it will all come back by and by, and I hope I will be a +wiser and a better woman after my long sleep. It is always so, I +think, Morva." + +"Yes," said the girl, "you are always wiser, and better, and kinder +after your long sleeps, if that is possible, mother fāch." + +Sara's ordinary cheerful and placid manner had already returned to her, +and in an hour or two she was quite herself again, and moving about her +cottage as if nothing had happened; and when Morva left her for the +morning milking she felt no uneasiness about her. + +"She's in the angels' keeping, I know, and God is over all," she +murmured, as she ran over the cliffs to Garthowen. + +She said nothing at the farm of the events of the past night, knowing +how reticent Sara was upon the subject herself. Moreover, it was one +of too sacred a character in the eyes of these two lonely women to be +discussed with the outside and unbelieving world. + +In the evening, when Morva returned from the farm, a little earlier +than usual, she was full of tender inquiries. + +"Are you well, mother fāch? I have been uneasy about you." + +"Quite well, child, and very happy. 'Twill all be right soon, Morva. +Canst take my word for it? For I cannot explain how I know, but I tell +thee thy trouble will soon be over. How are they at Garthowen +to-night?" + +"Oh, well," said the girl; "only 'n'wncwl Ebben is always very sad. +Not even Will's marriage will make him happy. 'Tis breaking his heart +he is for the old close companionship. Will ought to come and see him +oftener. Poor 'n'wncwl Ebben! 'Tis sad to lose his two sons." + +"Gethin will come home," said Sara; "and Ebben Owens will be happy +again." + +Morva made no answer, but watched the sparks from the crackling furze, +as they flew up the chimney, and thought of the night when she had +stamped them out with her wooden shoe, and had dared the uncertainties +of the future. She was wiser now, and knew that life had its shadows +as well as its glowing sunshine. She had experienced the former, but +the sunshine was returning to her heart to-night in a full tide of joy, +for she had implicit confidence in her foster-mother's keen intuitions. + +"Mother, what did you see, what did you hear, in that long trance? I +would like to know so much. Your body was here, but where was your +spirit?" + +"I cannot tell, 'merch i. To me it was a dreamless sleep, but now that +I am awake I seem to know a great many things which were dark to me +before. You know it is always so with me when I have had my long +sleeps. They seem to brighten me up, and it appears quite natural to +me when the things that have been dark become plain." + +She felt no surprise as the scenes and events of the recent past were +unfolded to her. She understood now why Gethin had gone away so +suddenly and mysteriously. Morva's love for him she saw with clear +insight, and, above all, the cause of Ebben Owens's increasing gloom. +How simple all was now, and how happy was she in the prospect of +helping them all. + +"Mother," asked Morva again one evening, as they walked in the garden +together, "there is one question I would like to ask you again, but +somehow I am afraid. Who stole the money at Garthowen?" + +"Don't ask me that question, 'merch i. Time will unfold it all. 'Tis +very plain who took it, and I wonder we didn't see it before; but leave +it now, child. I don't know how, but soon it will be cleared up, and +the sun will shine again. Ask me no more questions, Morva, and every +day will bring its own revealment." + +"I will ask nothing more, mother. Let us go in and boil the bwdran for +supper." + +At the early milking next morning Ebben Owens himself came into the +farmyard. He stooped a good deal, and, when Morva rallied him on his +sober looks, sighed heavily, as he stood watching the frothing milk in +her pail. + +"See what a pailful of milk Daisy has, 'n'wncwl Ebben! Yesterday +Roberts the drover from Castell On passed through the yard when I was +milking, and oh, there's praising her he was! 'Would Ebben Owens sell +her, d'ye think?' he asked, and he patted her side; but Daisy didn't +like it, and she nearly kicked my pail over. 'Sell her!' I said. +'What for would 'n'wncwl Ebben sell the best cow in his herd? No, no,' +said I. 'Show us one as good as her, and 'tis buying he'll be, and not +selling.'" + +"Lol! lol!" said the old man; "thee mustn't be too sure, girl. I am +getting old and not fit to manage the farm. I wouldn't care much if I +sold everything and went to live in a cottage." + +"'Twt, twt," said Morva, "you will never leave old Garthowen, and +'twill be long before Roberts the drover takes Daisy away. Go and see +mother, 'n'wncwl Ebben; she is full of good news for you. She says +there is brightness coming for you, and indeed, indeed _she knows_." + +"Yes, she knows a good deal, but she doesn't know everything, Morva. +No, no," he said, turning away, "she doesn't know everything." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE "SCIET" + +"Art going to chapel to-night, Morva?" said Ebben Owens on the +following Sunday afternoon, as he sat smoking in the chimney-corner, +Tudor beside him gazing rather mournfully into the fire. He was +looking ill and worn, and spoke in a low, husky voice. He had sat +there lost in thought ever since he had pushed away his almost untasted +dinner. + +"Yes," said Morva, "I am going; but mother is not coming to-night; she +doesn't like the Sciet, you know." + +"She is an odd woman," said Ann. "Not like the Sciet indeed! If I +didn't love her so much I would be very angry with her." + +Morva flushed. + +"She is very different to other people, I know; but she is a good woman +whatever." + +"Yes, yes, yes," said Ebben Owens emphatically; "but why doesn't she +like the Sciet?" + +"Oh! that's what she is saying," answered the girl, "that she doesn't +see the use of people standing up to confess half their sins and +keeping back the other and the worst half. She has been talking to +Gwilym Morris about it, and he is agreeing with her." + +"Och fi!" sighed the old man, relapsing into his moody silence, from +which not even little Gwyl's chatter was able to rouse him. + +At last when the cheerful sound of the tea-things, and Ann's +oft-repeated summons, recalled him to outward surroundings, he rose as +if wearily, and drew his chair to the table, where, stooping more and +more over his tea, Ann detected a tear furtively wiped away. + +"You won't take little Gwyl to chapel to-night, will you? 'tis rather +damp," he said, though it was really a clear twilight. + +"No, no," said Ann, "Magw will take care of him at home." + +Gwilym helped the old man to change his coat. + +"Where are his gloves, Ann, and his best hat? There's grand he'll be!" + +But there was no answering smile on his father-in-law's face. + +"Twt, twt," he said, "there is no need of gloves for me, and I won't +wear my best hat, give me my old one." + +He sighed heavily as with bent head, and hands buried deep in his coat +pockets, he followed Ann and her husband down the stony road to the +valley where Penmorien Chapel lay. It was one of the unlovely square +buildings so much affected by the Welsh Dissenters, its walls of grey +stone differing little in appearance and colour from the rocky bed of +the hill which had been quarried out for its site. + +As the Garthowen family entered, led by the preacher hat in hand, there +was a little movement of interest in the thronging congregation, and a +settling down to their prospective enjoyment, for an eloquent sermon +possesses for the Welsh the intense charm of a good drama. The +familiar pictures of every-day life with which the sermon is frequently +illustrated, the vivid word-painting, the tender but firm touch which +plays upon the chords of their strongest emotions, all combine to +awaken within them those feelings of pleasurable excitement, denied to +them through the medium of the forbidden theatre. + +Gwilym Morris was heart and soul a preacher, full of burning zeal for +his mission, and, moreover, at this period of his ministry he was +passing through a crisis in his spiritual life--a crisis which left him +with a broader field of vision, and more enlightened views of God's +Providence than he had hitherto dared to adopt. As he passed up the +pulpit stairs and saw the thronging mass of eager faces upraised to +his, a subtle influence reached him, a fervour of spirit which he knew +was the answer to the expectancy depicted on his people's faces. It +was as though that waiting throng had formed itself into one collective +being, for whose soul he bore a message, and to whom he must unburden +himself, and there was a depth of meaning in his voice as he gave out +the words of an old familiar hymn which fixed his hearers' attention at +once. Ebben Owens had always led the hymns, but latterly he had +dropped that custom, and to-night he stood silent with eyes fixed upon +the evening sky, visible through the long chapel window. The hymn was +sung with fervour, and in that volume of sound his voice was not +missed. The old grey walls reverberated to the rich tones, which +filled the chapel, and pouring out through the open doors, flooded the +narrow valley with harmony. It was followed by a prayer, and another +hymn, after which the candles were lighted, one on each iron pillar +supporting the crowded gallery, one on each side of the "big seat" +under the pulpit, and one on each side of the preacher, who, leaning +his arms on the open Bible before him, began in low impressive tones to +deliver himself of the message which he bore to his people. Only the +old familiar words, "Come unto Me all ye that are weary and heavy laden +and I will give you rest." Only the message of a greater Preacher than +he--only the theme of a love unchanging and unfathomable, but told in +such vivid though simple language, that the sensitive Celtic hearts of +his audience, were enthralled and subdued, and there were few in that +large crowd who did not gaze at the preacher through eyes blurred with +tears. Sometimes his voice rose in indignant protest, and sometimes +fell in tender appeal, and when at last the sermon was over and the +last hymn had been sung, there was an evident feeling of regret and a +furtive drying of eyes. + +In curious almost ludicrous contrast to the preacher's mellow tones, +Jos Hughes's cracked voice broke the solemn silence, with the +information that there would be an "experience" meeting after the +service. One third of the congregation therefore, remained seated +while the rest poured out through the narrow doorways into the stony +road, up which the sea wind was blowing. Then the doors were closed +and the preacher came down and sat among the deacons in the "big seat." +Ebben Owens was asked for his usual opening prayer, but he declined the +request with a shake of his head. Jos Hughes gladly took his place, +and after a long-winded prayer from him, a hymn was sung again, and +then the business of the meeting commenced. + +From a dark corner pew a weak voice broke the silence, and every eye +turned to the speaker, a little shrivelled woman who was a frequent +confessor of sins, and was correspondingly respected. + +"I wish to say," said the quavering voice, "that I am daily and hourly +becoming less sure of my salvation, my past sins weigh heavily upon me, +and neither prayer nor reading bring a gleam of comfort into my heart. +I should be glad to see the preacher or one of the deacons if they will +trouble to come to Ffoshelig." + +"I will certainly," said the preacher; and again there was a pause, +till Jos Hughes stood up, and with great unction delivered his soul of +its burden. + +"My dear brethren," he said, with eyes upturned to the ceiling, his +stubby fingers interlaced over his waistcoat of fawn kerseymere, "I am +much perplexed and disheartened! I have been deacon of this chapel for +thirty years, and I am not aware that I have ever failed in my duty as +a member of this 'body.' I neglect no opportunity of prayer, or hymn +singing, or warning my neighbour. I teach in the Sunday School, and I +fulfil every duty as far as I am able--and yet, my friends, for two +whole days in the week that is past, I was as dry as--a paper bag! I +felt no fervour of spirit, no uplifting of soul; in fact, dear people, +it was low tide with me, the rocks were bare, the sands were dry, and I +was almost despairing. But thank the Lord! the tide turned, grace and +praise and joy flowed in upon me once more; I have received the +'Invoice' of good things to come, and I am filled with the peace and +content I generally enjoy." + +A few words of congratulation and sympathy were spoken by another +grey-headed deacon, after which a silence fell upon the meeting, the +preacher making no comment upon what he had heard. The tick of the +clock on the gallery, the distant swish of the waves, and the soft +sighing of the evening breeze alone were audible. + +At length another voice broke the silence. It was Ebben Owens, who was +standing up, and for a moment looking round at the old familiar faces +of his fellow worshippers. + +It had been a frequent custom of his to relate his religious +experiences at the "Sciets," so neither Ann nor her husband were +surprised; but Morva detected something unusual in the old man's +manner. At many a meeting he had confessed to the frailties of human +nature, with platitudes, and expressions of repentance, which had lost +all reality from constant repetition. But he had satisfied the +meeting, and at the end of it he had taken up his hat, smoothed his +hair down over his forehead, and walked out of the chapel in the odour +of sanctity. To-night it was a very different man who stood there. At +first his voice was low and trembling, but as he proceeded it gathered +strength, so that his words were audible even in the corner pew, whose +little shrivelled occupant was eagerly listening, in the hopes that +another person's experience--and he a good man--might throw some light +upon her own difficulties. + +"Good people all!" said the old man, "will you bear with me for a few +moments, while I unburden my mind of a weight that is pressing sore +upon me? and God grant that none of you may suffer what I have suffered +lately! but justly--remember justly am I punished. + +"You think you know me well, my dear friends. 'There is Ebben Owens +Garthowen,' you say, 'our deacon,' and perhaps you say 'an upright man +and honest!' But I am here to-night to tell you what I am in truth. I +have stood before you dozens of times, and told you of want of +faith--of cold prayers--and lack of interest in holy things. I have +asked for your prayers many times, and have gone home and forgotten to +pray myself! Yes, I have been your deacon for thirty years, and all +that time I have deceived you, and deceived myself. I never told you +about my real sins, but you shall know to-night what Ebben Owens is. I +have been weak and yielding in money matters--have lent and given my +money, not out of real charity, but because it brought me the praise of +man. I have lied and cheated in the market, and still my soul was +asleep, and you all thought well of me. I have pretended to be a +temperate man, but I have often drunk until my brain was dull, and my +eyes were heavy, and have flung myself down on my bed in a drunken +sleep, without thought and without prayer." + +He paused a moment, and the sea wind, coming in at the window, blew a +stray lock of his grey hair over his forehead. His tongue seemed +parched and dry, his voice husky and uncertain, but with a fresh effort +he continued: + +"Are you beginning to know me, my friends? Not yet, not yet, listen! +God gave me two brave boys, and how did I take his gift? I made an +idol of one, and was unjust, and often harsh, to the other. As the +years went on I continued in that sinful path, and in my old age the +Lord is punishing me. The boy I idolised and loved--God knows with a +love that effaced the image of the Almighty from my heart--has deserted +me, has grown ashamed of me, and my punishment is just and righteous. +The other--whom I treated harshly and thrust from me--has also deserted +me in my old age; this, too, is just and righteous. The sting of it is +sharp and hard to bear, for God has made me love that boy, and long for +his presence; and this, too, is just and righteous. Let no one pity +me, or think I am punished more than I deserve. And now, do you think +you know me? Not yet, my friends, for listen, your deacon, Ebben Owens +of Garthowen, is a thief! Do you hear it, all of you? A thief!" and +he looked round the chapel inquiringly. + +The men looked at him with flushed, excited faces, the women stooped +forward to hide theirs, some of them crying silently, but all moved as +by a sudden storm. Ann had bent lower and lower in her pew, and was +weeping bitter tears of shame, clasping Morva's hand, who stood looking +in frightened amazement from one to another. + +"A thief!" continued the old man, "and a cowardly thief! One who +sacrificed honour and truth and common honesty that he might gratify +his foolish pride. But to come nearer, my friends, hear what I have +done. By careless spendthrift ways I had wasted my money so that I had +not sufficient to send my son to college. This galled my pride, and I +stole from my son-in-law's drawer the sum of 40 pounds which I knew he +had placed there. I was too proud to borrow from a Methodist preacher +the money I required to get my son into the Church. When the theft was +discovered," and the old man held up his finger to enforce his +words--"are you listening?--when the theft was discovered I tried at +first to throw the blame upon a member of this congregation, whom, of +course, I knew to be innocent; later on, when circumstances seemed to +point more directly to my dear eldest son, I gladly let the suspicion +rest upon him, and I did everything in my power to give colour to the +idea of his guilt. There I am, dear friends. That is Ebben Owens. +You know him now as what he is--a liar--a sot--a thief! You will turn +me out of your 'Sciet.' You are right; I am not worthy to be a member +of it. I don't want anyone's pity, I only want you to know me as I am, +and may God forgive me." + +And he sat down amidst breathless silence, his hands sunk deep into his +pockets, his chin resting on his chest. Shame, repentance, and sorrow +filled his heart, and it required all the strength of his manhood to +keep back the tears which would well up into his eyes. It was all so +still in the chapel, not a word of sympathy; even a word of reproach +would have been acceptable to the miserable man, who could not read +beneath the surface, the tumult of varied feelings which were surging +through the hearts of the congregation. + +Suddenly two heavy paws were resting on his knee, and Tudor's warm +breath was on his face as he tried to lick the old man's bare forehead. +The touch of sympathy was more than he could bear, he rose hastily to +his feet, and, followed by the dog, passed out of the chapel, leaving +Gwilym Morris, with a tremble in his voice, to bring the meeting to a +close. + +Although he had sometimes strayed into the chapel Tudor had never +before been known to invade the sanctity of the "big seat," and what +brought him there on this particular evening was one of those mysteries +which enshroud the possibilities of animal instinct. Perhaps he had +been struck by the dejected attitude of his master, as he followed his +daughter and son-in-law through the farmyard; at all events the loving +and loyal heart had felt that over that bent head and stooping figure a +cloud of trouble hung low, and as he followed his master through the +silent congregation he hung his head and drooped his tail as though he +himself were the delinquent. + +"Come, Ann, let us follow him," whispered Morva. + +"No," answered Ann, withdrawing her hand from Morva's warm clasp, "I +cannot. Go thou and comfort him. I will wait for Gwilym." + +And Morva did not hesitate, though it required some courage to make her +way through that shocked and scandalised throng. + +Gaining the door, where the fresh night air met her with refreshing +coolness, she saw the tall, stooping figure moving slowly up the stony +road, followed by the dejected Tudor, and in a moment was at his side. +Taking his hard, rough hand in both her warm palms she lifted it to her +cheek and pressed it to her neck. + +"'N'wncwl Ebben dear, and dear, and very dear! my heart is breaking for +you! To think that while we knew nothing about it you were bearing all +the burden of your repentance alone. But there is plenty of love in +all our hearts to sink every sin you ever committed in its depths, for +the sake of all the good you have done and all the kindness you have +shown to me and to every one who came near you, and you know God's +forgiveness is waiting for every sinner who repents." + +The old man said nothing for some time, but trudged heavily beside her. + +"_Thou_ art tender and forgiving, whatever," he said at last; "but Ann, +where is she? Will she ever forgive me?" + +"She is waiting for Gwilym," answered Morva. + +"She is right; but come thou with me, lass; thou must help me to-night, +for I have only done half my task," and as they passed under the elder +tree at the back door he hurried before her into the house. + +"Now, 'merch i, bring me pen and ink and some paper." + +Now was the time, he felt, when he must make a clean breast of all his +guilt, and drink his bitter draught of expiation to the dregs. He +seized the pen eagerly and with trembling hands began to write, "My +beloved son." The letter was to Will, of course. A clergyman! a +gentleman! with a lady to wife! What would he say when he heard that +his father was a thief? + +He made a full and ample confession, adding no extenuating +circumstances and making no excuses. He wrote slowly and laboriously, +Morva meanwhile rifling Ann's work-box for a seal. + +"There's beautiful writing for an old man," she said at last, as Ebben +Owens toiled through the address, his tongue following every movement +of the pen. "Now, here's the seal, and I will put the letter in the +post at once, and then your mind will be easy." + +"Easy!" he said, leaning his head on his folded arms; "'tis my son, +girl, my beloved son, whose love and respect I am cutting off from me +for ever. Tell thy mother, too; let them all know what I am. Here +come Ann and Gwilym; perhaps they will be as hard upon me as I deserve." + +Here Tudor again laid his soft head on the table beside his master's, +and the old man passed his arm round the dog's neck. + +"Yes--yes, 'machgen i, I know I have thee still. Go, Morva, post my +letter at Pont-y-fro, though 'tis Sunday night. Good-night, girl, thou +hast an old man's blessing. For what it is worth," he added, under his +breath, as the girl passed out of one door, while Gwilym and Ann +entered at the other. + +On their way home through the clear starlight, Gwilym had endeavoured +to soothe Ann's distress, to point out to her how real a proof of +repentance was her father's confession. He reminded her of the joy +amongst the angelic host over one sinner that repenteth! but his words +failed to make their usual impression upon her. Shame, and contempt +for her father's weakness were uppermost in her heart, and expressed +upon her countenance, when she entered the kitchen. One glance, +however, at the bowed grey head and the dejected attitude, banished +every feeling of anger to the winds; with a bound she was at her +father's side, her arms round his neck, her head leaning with his on +the table, Tudor laying his own beside them. + +Ebben Owens's departure from the chapel had been followed by a few +moments of breathless silence. No more experiences were told, no hymn +was sung, but a short and fervid prayer from the preacher alone +preceded the dismissal which sent the astonished and deeply-moved +congregation pouring out into the roadway. + +Jos Hughes had trembled with fright when Ebben Owens had alluded to his +want of money at the time of Will's entering college, and had expected +nothing less than an exposure of his oft broken promises and the long +delayed payment of his debt; but as the old man proceeded without +allusion to his shortcomings, he had regained his courage, and his +usual smug appearance of righteous peace and content. + +"Well!" he said to his fellow-deacons, as they followed the rough road +to Pont-y-fro, "did you ever think we had such a fool for a deacon?" + +"'Ts--'ts! never indeed," said John Jones of the "Blue Bell." + +"Well, indeed," said old Thomas Morgan, the weaver, "I didn't know we +had such a sinner amongst us; but fool! perhaps it would be better if +we were all such fools." + +But no one took any notice of his remark, for he was never considered +to have been endowed with his full complement of sense, though his pure +and unblemished life had caused him to be chosen deacon. + +"Well," said Jos again, as he reached his own shop door, "I always knew +Garthowen's pride would come down some day; but I never, never thought +he was such a fool!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE + +It was nearly midnight, and still Sara and Morva sat over the fire in +earnest conversation. The March wind roared in the chimney, the sound +of the sea came up the valley. Outside, under the night sky, the furze +and broom bushes waved and bowed to each other, and in the sheltered +cwrt the daffodils under the hedge nodded and swayed in the wind; but +the two women inside the cottage were too much engrossed in their +conversation, and with their thoughts, to notice the wildness of the +night. Often they sat in silence, broken by occasional words of sorrow. + +"Oh, poor 'n'wncwl Ebben! No wonder he was sitting thinking and +thinking in the chimney-corner!" + +"No, no wonder indeed, och i! och i! But now he has done the best +thing for his own peace of mind." + +"Peace of mind!" said Morva. "I am afraid he will never have that, +mother. He said when we were walking home together that he wished he +could die; and I'm afraid he will before long. He is breaking his +heart for his two sons." + +Sara did not answer; she was gazing at the glowing fire, whose flames +and sparks chased each other up the chimney. At last she straightened +herself. + +"Garthowen shall not die while I can help him, Morva," she said. "I +have seen all this coming, 'merch i, and I know now what my dreams have +meant lately. _They_ are calling me, Morva; _they_ have been calling +me since the turn of the year, and I have closed my ears. But +now"--and she stood up, though still leaning on her stick--"but now I +must go." + +Morva looked at her in astonishment, for the aged form seemed to grow +young again with the strength of purpose within it. The gentle face +appeared to lose the wrinkles of age. In the fitful light of the fire, +it took again the lines of beauty and youth which had once belonged to +it. + +"Thou must not be surprised, child," she added, "if some evening when +thou com'st home from the farm thou shalt find the house empty. The +key will be on the lintel, and thou must come in and wait in patience +till I return. I thought there was nothing more for me to do, but I +see it now," and with her stick she pointed into the dark corner where +the spinning-wheel stood, and the red earthen pitcher which went so +often to the well. "I see it, 'merch i; 'tis a journey for me. I +don't see quite where it ends, but I will be safe, Morva, for God is +everywhere. _They_ are calling me, and they will bring me safe home +again. Let me go, child; 'tis to fetch a blessing for Garthowen and +for thee, so don't thee fret, lass. Then my work will be done; there +will be only one more journey for me--the last! and from that thou wilt +not see me return. But I will be with thee, and thee must not sorrow +for me." + +"Oh, mother," said the girl, burying her face in her apron, "are you +going to die? How can I live in this world without you?" And swaying +backwards and forwards, she cried bitterly. + +"Not yet, my child, not yet; I have work to do and there are happy days +in store for us both; but some day, Morva, it must come, and when it +comes thou must not grieve for me. Come, 'merch i, 'tis late; let us +go to bed." + +And the girl, somewhat comforted, dried her eyes and closed the rickety +door. She slept heavily after her late watching, so heavily that she +did not hear when Sara rose in the grey of the dawn. At her usual time +Morva rose too, and immediately missed her mother. A wild fear +throbbed through her heart as she searched in and out of the cottage. + +"Mother!" she called up the step ladder which led to the loft, out in +the cwrt and in the garden. "Mother fāch! where are you?" But there +was no answer, and she realised that Sara had gone, and that she was +alone! + +After the first pang of fright, a calmness and even happiness entered +her heart; she had learnt to put implicit trust in her strange +foster-mother, and a feeling of complete reassurance and content began +to take possession of her mind. + +It would be well with Sara, for whatever she attempted she never failed +to accomplish, and it would be well with Garthowen too! "Her ways are +blessed," said the girl, clasping her hands, and returning to her +solitary breakfast. "The spirits have her in their keeping, that I +know, and she will come back and bring us joy and happiness!" + +Whether in the depths of her heart it was dawning upon her what +blessing she expected from Sara's pilgrimage is difficult to know; +perhaps unconsciously she already nourished the hope which was to grow +with every day of her mother's absence, until it gilded her whole life +with a rapturous expectancy; at all events, it was a very blithe and +joyous maiden who brushed the dew off the sheep path to Garthowen in +time for the milking that morning. She would have sung one of Sara's +old Nature songs, had not the remembrance of the sorrow at the farm +kept her silent. The March wind blew keen and crisp around her, the +air was filled with the quivering songs of the larks, the furze was +bursting into bloom, even the bare blackthorn put on its speckled +mantle of white; what wonder was it in a world so fair, that Morva's +heart sang for joy? But as she turned round the Cribserth, a sudden +shadow came upon her, for here was Ebben Owens coming towards her, with +bent head and slow dragging step. She hurried forward to meet him. + +"I thought thee wouldst turn back, lass, or make an excuse to pass me +by," he said. + +"But no! no! no!" said the girl, linking her arm into the old man's, +and turning back with him, "'tis closer and closer we must cling +together, 'n'wncwl Ebben, dear, the further we go on the path of life. +Did you think that Morva could pass you by? Ach y fi! no indeed! But +where are you going so early?" + +"To see Sara," said the old man--"to see if she will still be my friend +when she knows how bad I am." + +"She knows it all," said Morva; "I told her last night, and her heart +was torn with sorrow and love for you; and now turn back with me to +Garthowen, for Sara is gone; the cottage is empty!" + +"Gone!" said the old man, with a gasp, "Sara gone!" + +"Yes--gone! 'Garthowen shall not die of grief while I can help him,' +she said; 'I am going a long journey, child, and ye must not grieve for +me; I will come back and bring joy and comfort with me.' That's what +she said," and Morva nodded her head emphatically. "Oh, she will come, +she will come, as she has promised, and bring you comfort; what it will +be I cannot tell," and leaning her head coaxingly on the old man's arm +she asked, in a playful tone of mystery, "now what can it be, this +great blessing she is going to bring you?" + +"I don't know," said the old man, taking scant interest in her +surmises; he was thinking how he would bear this fresh loss! + +"But what do you think?" + +"A Bible, perhaps." + +"A Bible!" said Morva impatiently, "no--no, not a Bible; Sara knows you +have plenty of them at Garthowen, and she has too much sense to bring +you another--no! 'tisn't that! but oh, what will it be, I wonder?" + +And day after day this was the question that ran through her thoughts, +"What will it be, I wonder?" + +Sitting down to her milking she sang with full voice once more the old +song which Daisy loved. Of late her voice had been very low, and the +song scarcely reached beyond Daisy's sleek sides, but to-day it came +back, and the farmyard was filled with happy melody. + +Everything went on as usual in the farm. Ann tried to let no +difference be seen in her manner to her father, unless indeed she was a +little more tender and loving. The farm servants, who, if they had not +been at the Sciet, had yet heard the tale of disgrace, were unanimous +in their endeavours to comfort the old mishteer whom they loved with so +much loyalty. + +"Pwr fellow bāch!" they said to each other, "'twas for his son after +all, and if he had kept it to himself nobody would have known anything +about it!" + +He alone was altered, going about with a saddened mien and gentler +voice than of old, and apparently finding his chief solace in the +company of his little grandson, who followed him about as closely and +untiringly as Tudor did. + +"Ah, we are brave companions, aren't we, Gwil?" he would sometimes ask +with a tremble in his voice. + +"Odin (Yes, we are)," said the child. + +"And thou lov'st thine old grandfather with all thine heart, eh?" + +"Odw (Yes, I do!)," said the child, impatient to be gone. + +They were sitting under the elder tree in the farmyard. + +"Stop a minute," said the old man, in a husky, anxious voice, "if da-cu +(grandfather) had done anything wrong, wouldst love him still the same?" + +"Oh, more!" said the boy, "because then we'd be two naughty boys!" + +And while they sat under the elder tree, and Morva helped Ann with her +churning, five miles away, on the wind-swept high road, a bent figure +was trudging along, with slow but steady footsteps, with the thought of +them all in her mind, and the sweet memory of home in her heart, but +with an earnest purpose in her eyes; to bring happiness and hope to her +old friend, to the man who in the days gone by had jilted her, and torn +her heart strings, who had won her love, but had married another woman, +and regretted it ever after. + +It was Sara, who had risen with the first streak of dawn, and snatching +a hurried breakfast had left her foster-daughter asleep. She had +lifted the lid of the coffer and had taken out the best half of her +scarlet mantle, leaving the worn and faded half hanging Over the +spinning wheel. "Morva would understand," she thought, "and would wash +it and lay it away in the coffer until her return." A gown too she +wore, instead of her peasant dress, a gown of red and black homespun, +which had been her best when she was first married. On her head a +black felt hat, with low crown, and slouching brim over her full +bordered cap of frilled muslin. Strong shoes with bows on the instep, +her crutch stick in her hand, and a little bundle of clothes tied up in +a cotton handkerchief completed her outfit, and thus equipped she stole +silently to the bedside where Morva lay, flushed with the heavy sleep +of youth and health. + +"My little daughter!" was all she said, but her eyes were full of tears +as she passed through the cwrt and took the sheep path which led to the +top of the moor. Reaching the brow of the hill she turned into a +narrow lane, over which the thorn bushes, just showing signs of their +budding greenery, almost met together. Under their branches she made +her way, to where the lane opened out to a grassy square, on which +stood a tiny whitewashed cottage. The thatch reached low over the +door, and its one window no bigger than a child's slate. There were no +signs of life, but Sara did not hesitate to raise the wooden latch and +open the door, which she found unbolted. + +In the murky gloom of the cottage it was difficult at first to see +where the bed lay, but as space was circumscribed she had not far to +look; in fact, one curtained side of the bed made the wall of the +passage, and she had but to turn round this to see an old and wrinkled +face asleep on the pillow. + +"I must wake her, pwr thing," said Sara, and she began to call softly, +"Nani, Nani fāch!" + +The sleep of age is easily put to flight, and Nani opened her eyes. + +"Sara ''spridion'!" she said, in astonishment. "Sara Lloyd, I mean, +but I was dreaming, Sara dear. What is it?" and she sat up not a +little disturbed, for Sara's name alone sufficed to arouse the latent +fear of the "hysbis" or occult, always lurking in the Celtic mind. + +Sara only smiled as the word "'spridion" escaped the frightened woman's +lips. + +"Is it time to get up?" she said, beginning to rub her eyes. + +"No, no," said Sara, taking a seat by the bedside, and leaning upon her +stick. "Lie still, Nani fāch, and forgive me for awaking you, but I am +going a journey, and a journey that won't wait." + +"Oh, dear!" said Nani, "are you going by the old trźn, then? As for +me, I'm too frightened of it to go and see my own daughter. She's +asked me many times, and I would have good living there, but I wouldn't +venture in the trźn for the whole world!" + +"I'm not afraid of it," said Sara, "but I have never seen it. 'Twould +be strange to me, and the shipping comes more natural, so I'm going to +Caer-Madoc, for I know the steamer sails from there to Cardiff every +Tuesday. I hope I will be there in time; but tell me, Nani, about +Kitty your daughter." + +"She is married again, and such a good husband she has. John Parry +nearly killed her, pwr thing, and then he died, and she married this +man--his name is Jones." + +"But I want to know," said Sara, "did she say anything about Gethin +Owens when she was here?" + +"She said she was never seeing him, and she didn't know why he was +keeping away from her, and the sailors were often seeing him about the +docks, but she didn't know where he was lodging now. There's glad I +was to see her; but indeed, Sara fāch, it cost me a lot of money, 'cos +she's got a good appetite, whatever. 'Tis a great waste to come all +that long way by the trźn. She wants to come again, and if it wasn't +for the money--" + +Sara, who had no sympathy with the parsimony of many of her class, rose +to go. + +"Well, I won't stop longer, Nani fāch; good-bye and thank you." + +When she saw her visitor was really going, Nani was profuse in her +offers of hospitality. + +"Going! Caton pawb! not without breakfast?" + +But Sara was gone, and already making her way to the high road which +led along the brow of the hill to Caer-Madoc. It was twenty years +since she had last been in the town, and even in this remote place +twenty years had brought changes--the busy streets, the shops, the +cries of the vendors of herrings and cockles, would have bewildered and +puzzled her had she not been possessed by a strong purpose and +sustained by that faith which can move mountains. Aided by old +memories she found her way to the quay and to the small steamer with +the long English name, which plied twice a week between the ports of +Caer-Madoc and Cardiff. + +"Are you going to Cardiff?" she asked the master, who stood on the quay. + +"Why, yes, of course this is the day, and we are starting in a quarter +of an hour. Who are you?" he said, looking with amused curiosity at +the quaint figure with her crutch stick and black bundle. + +"I am Sara Lloyd of Garthowen Moor, and I want to go with you to +Cardiff. Will you take me?" + +"Of course, little woman, if you can pay." + +"Oh, yes," said Sara, undoing the corner of her pocket-handkerchief, +"how much is it?" and she held out a half-sovereign. + +"Eight shillings--you pay in there," and he pointed to a red painted +shed, "but look you here, little woman, that big pocket doesn't suit +such a place as Cardiff, 'tis too easily got at; tie your money up +tight and put it inside the breast of your gown." + +"Yes," said Sara, obeying, "and thank you." + +"Look alive, then, and I will take you on board." + +Sara found a seat near the prow of the ship. + +"We'll have to tie a few weights to you by and by, I'm thinking, or +you'll be blown away," said the captain, as he kindly arranged some +boxes and baskets so as to shelter her a little from the strong March +wind. + +"Am I the only passenger?" + +"Yes. 'Tis mostly goods we carry, but sometimes we have a stray +passenger. And where would you be going now so far from Garthowen Moor +in your old age?" + +Welsh curiosity is a quantity that has to be taken into account. + +"I am going to Cardiff." + +"Yes, yes; but when you get there?" + +"I don't know for sure." + +The captain looked grave. + +"You have a daughter, perhaps, or a son at Cardiff?" + +"No, neither," said Sara. "'Tis the oldest son of Garthowen I am +seeking for--Gethin Owens, have you ever seen him?" + +"Gethin Owens!" said the captain, in a tone of surprise. "What? the +dark brown chap with the white teeth and the bright eyes like a +starling's?"--Sara nodded--"and gold rings in his ears?" + +"That's him," said Sara. "Do you know him?" + +"Caton pawb! as well as if he was my own son. He's mate of the +_Gwenllian_, trading to Monte Video and other foreign parts. The +_Gwenllian_ sailed about four months ago and would be back about now. +Is that what you are expecting?" + +"Yes," said Sara, "Ebben Owens Garthowen is wearing his heart away +longing for his son, and I think if I can see him I have news for him +that will bring him to the old home." + +"Well, well," said the captain, "little did I think the mate of the +_Gwenllian_ was the son of my old friend Ebben Owens Garthowen! Why! +long ago I have been stopping with him, when he was a young man and I +the same. I remember he was courting a handsome girl there, the finest +lass you ever set your eyes upon, straight she was, and tall, with +brown hair and dark blue eyes, like the night sky with the stars in it; +oh! she was a fine lass, and she carried her pail on her head as +straight as a willow wand," and the old captain clasped his own waist +above the hips, and strutted about with an imaginary pail on his head. +"Well, I heard afterwards that Ebben Owens treated her shocking bad, +and married another girl, with money, but they say he never cared for +her, and was never happy with her; and serve him right, say I. Dear! +dear! how the time slips by!" + +"Yes," said Sara, "he is an old man now, and in sore trouble. I live +on his land, and I want to bring happiness back to Garthowen." + +"Of course, of course!" said the captain, "but indeed; little woman, +I'm afraid you'll have hard work, for there's something strange about +that lad lately; he's keeping with the English sailors when he's in +port and avoiding all his old companions. I have heard my son tell of +him too, and how altered he is, and how angry the Welsh sailors are +with him, but I believe he is stiddy and upright." + +"Well," said Sara, "if I can only have a word with him 'twill be all +right." + +"Jār-i! you have pluck, little woman, and 'tis well to have a friend +like you. Well, I'll do my best for you. I'll find you a night's +lodging and somebody to show you the way about next day. Mrs. Jones, +Bryn Street, would take you in; it's where I go myself when I do spend +a night ashore." + +"A hundred thanks. That's where I'd like to go because I know her and +her mother." + +When the captain left her she fell into a reverie, her sweet, patient +face, with its delicate complexion, lighted up by the images of +retrospection; the dark blue eyes, which held so much insight and +purpose in their depths, were still beautiful under their arched +eyebrows, the soft, straight fringe of hair combed down over her +forehead like a little child's showed the iron-grey of age, and the +mouth, a little sunken, told the same tale, but the spirit of love and +peace within preserved to Sara a beauty that was not dependent upon +outward form. It was felt by all who came in contact with her, and +perhaps was the cause of the curious feeling of awe with which her +neighbours regarded her. + +As the little puffing steamer ploughed her way through the clear, green +water, the ever-changing sky of a March day overhead, the snow-white +wreaths of spray, the clear white line of the horizon, the soft grey, +receding shore, all unheeded by the captain and his three subordinates, +aroused in Sara's mind the intense pleasure that only a heart at peace +with itself and with Nature can feel, and as she leant her soft veined +hands on her crutched stick, resting her chin upon them, a little +picturesque figure on the commonplace, modern steamer, the romance of +life which we are apt to associate only with the young, added its charm +to the thoughts of the woman of many years. The beauty of the world, +the joy of it, the great hopes of it, all filled her soul to +overflowing, for she believed her journey would bring light and +happiness to Ebben Owens. This had been the desire of her young life, +and would now be granted to her in her old age. Yes! Sara's heart was +full of joy and gratitude, for she knew neither doubt nor fear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE MATE OF THE "GWENLLIAN" + +"There!" said Mrs. Jones next morning, as she gave Sara's toilet a +finishing touch, consisting of sundry tugs of adjustment to the red +mantle and an encouraging pat on the shoulders; "there! go 'long with +you now and find your precious Gethin, and give him a good scolding +from me. Tell him he is the last man in the world I would expect to +desert an old friend as he has done lately. There! the sight of such a +tidy, fresh-looking little country woman will do our pale-faced town +people good. Oh, anwl! I wish my Tom was alive; he'd have piloted you +straight to the _Gwenllian_. He knew every ship that came into the +docks. His heart was with the shipping though he could do nothing but +look at them, poor boy!" and drying her eyes with her apron she +dismissed Sara, who started with a brave heart. + +Up the grimy, uninteresting Bryn Street, which the bright morning +sunlight scarcely improved, and soon into a wide, busy thoroughfare +where hurrying footsteps and jostling crowds somewhat disconcerted her. + +The gay shops, especially the fruit shops, interested her greatly, as +well as the vehicles of every description, from the humble +costermonger's to the handsome broughams bearing their wealthy owners +to their offices for the day; the prettily-dressed children who toddled +beside their busy mothers to their early shopping; and, above all, the +strains of a brass band which was enlivening the morning hours with its +familiar _repertoire_. Each and all were a revelation of delight to +the simple peasant. Straight from the gorse and heather, a woman +exceptionally endowed with the instincts of a refined nature, one whose +only glimpses of the world had been gathered from the street of a small +provincial town, was it to be wondered at that to her the varied sights +and sounds around her seemed like the pageantry of a dream? + +"'Tis a blue and gold world," she murmured, "and I'm glad I have seen +it before I die, but I can't think why the people look so dull and +cross." + +Although she was unconscious of it, she was herself an object of +interest to the hurrying passers-by. Many of them turned round to look +at the picturesque peasant woman, with her country gown and quaint +headgear. + +"A woman come down from the hills," said a lady to her companion, as +Sara passed them, for a moment raising her eyes to theirs. + +"And what a sweet face, and what wonderful eyes, so dark and blue. +There is something touching in that smooth fringe of grey hair." + +But Sara passed on unheeding. She was now in a quieter street, and as +she passed under the high grey walls of the jail, the prison van +crossed her path. The heavy iron doors opened and it passed out of her +sight; the doors closed with a soft click and a turn of the key, and +Sara went on her way with a sigh. + +"There are grey and black shadows in the making of it, too," she said, +and hurried on. + +Once or twice she stopped to ask her way of a passer-by. + +"The docks this way? Yes, go on, and turn to the left." + +At the end of the road she came upon a crowd of boys who were playing +some street game with loud shouts and laughter, and Sara, who had +hitherto braved all dangers, shrank a little. + +"Hello, mother! where are you going? There's a penny to pay for +passing through this way," and they crowded clamorously around her. + +She looked at them calmly, disregarding their begging. + +"Iss one of you will show me the docks, then shall he have a penny. +You," she said, pointing to one with a round pale face, and honest +black eyes. + +"Yes 'll I," said the boy, and he turned down a corner, beckoning to +her to follow. + +"Go on, old witch!" cried the disappointed ones; "where's your broom?" + +"Can't you speak Welsh?" she asked, as she came abreast with her guide. + +"Yes, that can I," said the boy in his native tongue. + +"Oh, very good, then. 'Tis the _Gwenllian_ I am wanting--Captain +Price--can you find her?" + +"Oh, yes, come on," said the boy. "I was on board of her yesterday +morning, but she was about sailing for Toulon with a cargo of coal. +Most like she's gone." + +Sara's heart sank, and as they came in sight of the forests of masts, +the bales of goods, the piles of boards, of pig iron, of bricks and all +the other impedimenta of a wharf, for the first time her heart was full +of misgivings. + +"Stop you there," said the boy, "and I will go and see," and he darted +away, leaving Sara somewhat forlorn amongst the rough crowd of sailors +and dockmen. + +"Hullo, mother!" said a jolly-looking red-faced man who had nearly +toppled over the little frail figure; "what you doing so far from home? +They are missing you shocking in some chapel away in the hills +somewhere, I'm sure." + +"Well, indeed, 'tis there I would like to go as soon as my business is +ended. 'Tis Gethin Owens I am looking for, mate of the _Gwenllian_." + +"Oh, ho," said the man, "you may go back to chapel at once, little +woman; you won't find him, for he sailed yesterday for France." + +At this moment the boy returned with the same information, and Sara +turned her face sorrowfully away from the shipping. + +"I will give you two pennies if you will take me back to Bryn Street." + +"Come on," said the boy. + +He did not tell her that his home lay in that identical street, and +that he was already due there. + +Once more the little red mantle passed through the busy crowd. Not for +years had Sara felt so sad and disappointed, the heavy air of the town +probably added to her dejection. + +Mrs. Jones was loud in her sympathy as Sara, faint and weary, seated +herself on the settle. + +"Oh, Kitty Jones fāch!" she said, leaning on her stick and swaying +backwards and forwards. "I am more sorry than I can say. To go back +without comfort for Garthowen or my little Morva. He's gone to France, +and I suppose he won't be back for a year or six months, whatever, and +I have no money to stop here all that time." + +"Six months!" said Mrs. Jones; "there's ignorant you are in the +country. Why, he'll be back in a fortnight, perhaps a week. What's +the woman talking about?" + +"Yes, indeed?" said Sara, in delighted astonishment. "Yes, I am a very +ignorant woman, I know, but a week or a fortnight, or even three weeks, +I will stop," and the usual look of happy content once more beamed in +her eyes. + +Every day little Tom Jenkins, upon whom Sara's two pennies had made a +favourable impression, went down to the docks to see if the _Gwenllian_ +had arrived. When a week, a fortnight, and nearly three weeks had +passed away, and still she was not in port, Mrs. Jones suggested that +probably she had extended her voyage to some other port, or was perhaps +waiting for repairs. + +At last one sunny morning Tom Jenkins came in with a whoop. + +"The _Gwenllian_ is in the docks!" he cried, and Sara prepared at once +for another expedition in that direction. + +"Wait a bit," said Mrs. Jones. "You can write, Sara?" + +"Yes, in Welsh," said the old woman. + +"Well, then, send a letter, and Tom will take it for you." + +Sara took her advice, and, putting on her spectacles, wrote as follows: + + +"Sara Lloyd, Garthowen Moor, is writing to thee, Gethin Owens, to say +she is here at Mrs. Jones's, No. 2 Bryn Street, with good news for +thee. All the way from Garthowen to fetch thee, my boy, so come as +soon as thou canst." + + +The writing was large and sprawly, it was addressed to "Gethin Owens, +mate of the _Gwenllian_,--Captain Price," and when Tom had departed, +with the letter safe in his jacket pocket, the two women set themselves +to wait as patiently as they could; but the hours dragged on heavily +until tea-time. + +"Gethin was fond of his tea," said Mrs. Jones, "and I wouldn't wonder +if he'd be here before long." + +The tea table was laid, the cakes were toasted the tea brewing was +delayed for some time. It was Mrs. Jones's turn now to be anxious, and +even irritable; but Sara had quite regained her composure. + +"He'll come," she said. "I know he'll come. I know my work is nearly +over." + +"There's missing you I'll be," said Mrs. Jones. "I wish my poor old +mother was as easy to live with as you, Sara; but 'tis being alone so +long has made her cranky. And the money--oh, she loves it dearly. +Indeed, if I can get Davy to agree, we will give up this house and go +home and live near her; 'tis pity the old woman should grow harder in +her old age." + +"Yes," said Sara. "'Tis riper and softer we ought to be growing in our +old age, more ready to be gathered. I will go and see her sometimes; +oftener than I have." + +Their conversation was interrupted by a shadow passing the window, and +a firm footstep in the passage. + +"Hoi, hoi!" said a loud, breezy voice, "Mrs. Jones!--how is she here?" +and Gethin Owens clasped her hand with a resounding clap. + +"Much you care how I am, Gethin Owens. Never been to see me for so +long." + +"Well, you look all the better for my absence, I think. But what you +want with me? Tom Jenkins said an old woman wanted to see me shocking, +and I gave him a clatch on his ear, to teach him not to call a young +woman like you an old woman. Why, you look ten years younger than when +I saw you last." + +"Go 'long, Gethin Owens," said Mrs. Jones. "Didn't you have the +letter?" + +"No. Tom said the boys in the streets had torn it in a scrimmage they +had; but he gave me your message." + +"Well, come in and look on the settle then." + +In the shadow of the settle, Sara sat listening to the conversation, +with a look of amusement in her eyes. + +Gethin looked a moment into the dark corner, and, recognising her, took +two steps in advance, with extended hands and a smiling greeting on his +lips; but suddenly the whole expression of his face changed to one of +anxiety and distrust. + +"What is it," he said, "has brought you so far, Sara? Is the old man +dead?" + +"Nonsense, no!" said Sara. + +"Well, you wouldn't come so far to tell me Will was married." + +"Indeed I would, then," she said, rising. "Come, thou foolish boy, +didn't I say it was good news? Oh! but thou hasn't had my letter." + +Gethin took both her hands between his own. + +"Tis very kind of thee, Sara fāch, but a letter would have brought me +the news quite as safely. Well! I wish him joy. 'Tisn't Gethin Owens +is going to turn against his brother, because he has been a fortunate +man, while I have been unfortunate. Yes, I wish him joy, and sweet +Morva every blessing under the sun." + +"Twt, twt!" said Sara, "thee art all wrong, my boy. 'Tisn't Morva he +has married at all! and that's how I thought a letter could not explain +everything to thee as I could myself, and bring thee home to the old +country again." + +Gethin shook his head. + +"No, no; I have said good-bye to Garthowen, I will never go there +again." + +"Well! why?" said Sara, still holding his hands, and looking into his +face with those compelling eyes of hers. + +"There is no need to tell thee, Sara," said the sailor, a dogged, +defiant look coming into his eyes. "I have said good-bye to Garthowen, +and will never darken its doors again." + +"And yet thou hast been very happy there?" + +"Ah! yes," said Gethin, a tender smile chasing away the angry look on +his face. "I was very happy there indeed, when I whistled at my +plough, with the song of the larks in my ears, and the smell of the +furze filling the air. But now--no--no! I must never turn my face +there again." + +"Wilt not, indeed?" asked Sara. "Wait till I've told thee all, my lad. +And now I have a strange story to tell thee, 'tis of thy poor old +father, Gethin." + +"My father? what's the matter with him? Thou hast said he's alive, +what then? Is he ill? Not ill? What then, Sara?" and his face took a +frightened expression; "what evil has come upon the old man?" + +His voice sank very low as he clutched the old woman's hand and wrung +it unconsciously. + +"What is it? not shame, Sara--say, woman, 'tis not shame that has come +upon him in his old age!" + +Sara was embarrassed for the first time. + +"Shame," she said, "in the eyes of men, is sometimes honour in the eyes +of God! Listen, Gethin--Dost remember the night of thy going from +Garthowen?" + +He nodded with a serious look in his eyes. + +"That night I had a dream; only, I was awake when I saw it. I was at +Garthowen in my dream, and I saw a dark figure entering Gwilym Morris's +room; he stooped down and opened a drawer, and took something out of +it. I could not see the man's face, but it was not _thee_, Gethin, +though thy sudden disappearance made them think at first, that thou +wert the thief; only Morva and I knew better. She heard a footstep +that night, and when she went out to the passage, she saw thee coming +out of that room. But she and I knew that it was not thou who took the +money. What dreadful sight met thee in that room, Gethin bāch, we did +not know, but it was something that made thee reel out like a drunken +man." + +"It was, it was," he answered, shuddering and covering his eyes with +his hands, as though he saw it still. + +"'Twas a sight that shadowed the whole world to me, and has altered my +life ever since. Dei anwl! 'twas a sight I would give my whole life +not to have seen." + +"I know it all now, my boy, and I know what thou must have suffered. +_'Twas thy father who took Gwilym Morris's money_. Sorrow and bitter +repentance have been his companions by day, and have sat by his pillow +at night, ever since he was tempted to commit that sin. He has become +thin, and haggard, and old. He confessed it all at the Sciet. And +think how hard it must have been for him to bring himself to tell it +all before the men who had thought so highly of him. 'Twas for Will's +sake, but 'twas you that he wronged, Gethin, and that is what is +breaking his heart." + +"Me!" said Gethin. "Me? He is not grieving for me, is he? Poor old +man! he did me no wrong; 'twas I by going away, brought the dishonour +upon myself. And he confessed it all!" + +"Yes," said Sara, "and made it all as black as he could. Canst forgive +him, Gethin?" + +"Forgive him? Fancy Gethin Owens _forgiving_ anyone! as if he was such +a good man himself! especially his own father! I have nothing to +forgive; he did me no harm, poor old man. And if all the world is +going to turn against him because his love for his son did prove +stronger than his honesty, why! it's home to Garthowen I'll go, to +cheer him and to love him, and to show the world that I for one will +stick to him, weak or strong, upright or sinful!" + +"Gethin bāch! thou know'st what real love is! Love that no folly or +weakness, or even sin, in the dear one can alter. That is what I have +come to fetch; a son to support and comfort my old friend in his latter +days. Gwilym Morris is good and kind to him, and Ann--thou know'st +they are married these four years?" + +"Yes, Jim Brown told me, and I was very glad." + +"But 'tis his own son he is longing for. ''Tis my boy Gethin I want to +see,' he says; 'he was so kind to me.'" + +"Did he say that?" + +"That did he." + +"Diwss anwl! I never knew he cared a button for me." + +He was longing to ask for Morva. + +"Thee hasn't asked for Morva yet," said Sara. + +"Is she well?" + +"Oh! well--quite well, and as happy as a bird since Will is married." + +"Since Will is married! How can that be if he has deserted her and +married another woman? I never thought Will would do that! And who +has he married? + +"A lady, Gethin! Miss Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny--didst ever hear such +a thing?--and as sweet a girl as ever lived!" + +"Well, well, and so Will has married a lady? Well, that's his choice, +mine would never lie that way; a simple country lass for me, or else +none at all, and most likely 'twill be that. Well, we may say good-bye +to Will. I suppose we sha'n't see much more of him." + +"Perhaps not." + +"But 'tis Morva I'm thinking of, Sara; how does she bear it? She is +hiding her grief from you--she loved him, I know she loved him! and for +him to turn from her and give his love to another must have been a +cruel grief to her." + +"Gethin," said the old woman, "she never loved him. She promised to +marry him when she was a child, before she knew what love meant, but +since she has grown up her heart has been refusing to keep the promise +which bound her to Will. She has tried over and over again to get her +freedom; like those poor birds we see caught in the net sometimes, she +has fluttered and fluttered, but all in vain; and when the letter came +from Will to Garthowen telling his father of the wonderful marriage +that was coming so near, 'twas as if someone had broken the net and let +the bird go free. And there's Morva now, happy and bright like she was +before she found out that her promise to Will was galling her sore. +'Tis only one thing she wants now, Gethin. 'Tis for Garthowen to be +happy, and that will never be till thou art home once more. Come, +Gethin bāch, come home with me; our hearts are all set upon thee." + +"Halt!" said Gethin, and he pushed his fingers through his hair until +it stood on end. "Phew! Mrs. Jones was never stinting with her fire; +'tis stifling hot here," and he turned away to the doorway, and stood a +moment looking out into the street. "Will married--and not to Morva!" +What wild hopes were rising again within him? but he crushed them down, +and turned on his heel with a laugh. "How you women can live day after +day with a roaring fire I can't think--but come, Sara, on with your +story." + +"Well!" she said, "all the way from Garthowen I have come to fetch +thee, Gethin, and thou must come home with me." + +"Would Morva like to see me?" he said, in a low, uncertain voice. + +"Oh! Gethin, thou art a foolish man, and a blind man! Morva does not +know what I have come here for; but if thou ask'st me the question, +'Would Morva be glad to see me?' I answer 'Yes.'" + +"D'ye think that--that--" + +"Never mind what I think, come home and find out for thyself." + +"Sara, woman," said Gethin, bringing his fist down with a thump on the +table, "take care what you are doing. I tell you it has taken me three +long years to smother the hopes which awoke in my heart when I was last +at home. Don't awake them again, lest they should master me; unless +you have some gleam of hope to give me." + +Sara laughed joyfully. + +"Well, now, how much will satisfy thee?" + +"D'ye think, Sara, she could ever be brought to love me?" + +"Well," she said mischievously, "thee canst try, Gethin. Come home and +try, man!" + +"What day is it to-day? 'Tis Tuesday; I'll only stop to settle with +Captain Price, and I'll come home, Sara. Wilt stop for me?" + +"No, no, I have been too long from home. Tomorrow the _Fairy Queen_ is +going back, and I will go with her. I can trust thee, my boy, to +follow me soon." + +"Dei anwl! Yes! the ship's hawser wouldn't keep me back! I'll be down +there one of these next days. I'll cheer the old man up--and Sara, +woman, I have money to lay out on the farm. 'Tis too long a story to +tell thee now, how a man I helped a bit in the hospital at Montevideo +died, and left me all his money, 500 pounds! I didn't care a +cockleshell for it, but to-day I am beginning to be glad of it. +There's glad I'll be to see the old place again! Mrs. Jones," he +shouted, "come here and hear the good news. Didn't I tell you years +ago I was going home to Garthowen, to the cows and the sheep and the +cawl! and so I am then, and it is this good little woman who has +brought it about!" and clasping his arms round Sara, he drew her from +the settle, and twisted her round in a wild dance of delight, Sara +entreating, laughing, and scolding in turns. + +"Caton pawb! the boy will kill me!" but he seated her gently on the +settle before he went away. + +"I'll be on the wharf to meet you to-morrow, Sara, and see you safe on +board the _Fairy Queen_. Good-night, woman, 'tis a merry heart you are +sending away to-night!" and as he passed up the street they heard his +cheerful whistle until he had turned the corner. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +GETHIN'S STORY + +True to his promise, Gethin was early at the docks, and as he sat +dangling his legs over a coil of rope, he laughed and slapped his knee, +when amongst the crowd of loiterers on the wharf-side he saw Sara's red +mantle appear. + +"Didn't I say so?" he exclaimed, crossing to meet her, "didn't I say +you'd be here an hour and a half too soon? Just like a country woman! +why, the ship must wait for the tide, Sara fāch. But I'm glad you're +come, we shall have time for a chat; there's some things I want you to +know before I see you again." + +"Afraid I was, 'machgen i," said Sara, "that the steamer would start +without me, and I will be quite happy to sit here and wait. Dear, +dear! how full the world is of wonders that we never know of down there +in the gorse and heather! all these strange people, different faces, +different languages. Gethin bāch, those who roam away from home see +much to open their minds." + +"Yes," said Gethin, "and much to make them sick of it all; 'tis glad +I'll be to say good-bye to it, and to settle down in the old home +again. But the time is passing, Sara fāch, and I wanted to tell thee +what I have never told any one else, why I left Garthowen so suddenly. +I can tell you now, since my father has let every one know of it; but I +couldn't talk about it before Kitty Jones last night, for 'tis a bitter +thing to know your father has been dishonourable, and has lost the +respect of his neighbours. Well--'twas a night I never will +forget--that night when Gwilym Morris lost his bag of gold; 'twas a +night, Sara, that made a deep mark on me, a blow it was that nearly +drove me to destruction and ruin. I may as well tell thee everything, +Sara, and make a clean breast of it all. I had grown so fond of Morva, +Diwss anwl! she was in my thoughts morning, noon, and night, and I +thought she cared for me a little; but there I was mistaken, I suppose, +for when I asked her, she told me she was promised to Will. 'Here +behind this very bush,' she said, 'only two nights ago, I met him, and +I promised him again that I would be true to him.' I have been in +foreign lands when an earthquake shook the world under my feet, and at +those words of Morva's I felt the same, as if the world was going to +pieces; but I had to bear it; 'tis wonderful how much a man can bear!" + +"And a woman too, 'machgen i," said Sara, laying her soft hand upon +his, "'twas a bitter time for Morva too." + +"I didn't know that," said Gethin, "or 'twould have been worse to bear. +Well, when I went to bed that night, there was no sleep for me, no more +sleep than if I was steering a ship through a stormy sea. Well, that +dreadful night, the old house was very quiet, no sound but the clock +ticking very loud, and the owls crying to the moon; there was something +wrong with Tudor too, he was howling shocking all night, and 'twas a +thing I never heard him do before, perhaps because I slept too sound. +I tossed and turned till the clock struck twelve, and then I began to +feel drowsy; but all of a sudden I was as wide awake as I am now. I +thought I could hear a soft footstep in the passage, as if someone was +walking without shoes; I listened so hard I could hear my heart +beating. I thought 'twas a thief, or perhaps a murderer, and I +determined to rush upon him, but somehow I could not move, for I heard +a hand rubbing over the wall; 'tis whitewashed and rough you know, +Sara, and the hand was a rough hand--I could hear that; then somebody +passed my door, and in to Gwilym Morris's room. I was out of bed in a +minute, and across the passage in the dark, for there were black clouds +that night, and the moon was hidden sometimes. Just as I reached the +door of Gwilym's room, whatever, she came out and lighted up the whole +place, and there, Sara, I saw a sight that made my heart leap up in my +throat. Indeed, indeed, 'twas a sight that I would give my life never +to have seen, but I did see it, Sara, plain enough, and now you know +what it was, and I can't bring my lips to put it into words. I turned +back to my bed with my hands over my eyes, as if I could tear away the +horrid sight. And if 'twas like an earthquake when Morva refused me, +'twas worse--oh, much worse--when I saw what I did. My old father had +always been so dear to me--so much I loved him, so highly I thought of +him, although, I knew he was over fond of a drop sometimes; but caton +pawb! I would have staked my life on his honour, and more upon his +honesty. I lay awake of course that night--yes, and many a night +after, going over my troubles--worse than that, my shame; and through +all my tossing and turning, one thought was clear before me, 'twould be +better for me to bear the blame than for old Ebben Owens Garthowen to +be known as a thief. I thought I would be far away in foreign lands or +on distant seas, and so I would not hear the whispering, nor see the +pointing of the fingers. What did it matter what people said about me? +Morva would not have me, so what was the use of a good name to me?" + +"I got up before the sun rose, and I pushed a few things into my canvas +bag, and went quiet down the stairs. I stopped a minute outside Ann +and Morva's room. I could hear them breathing soft and regular, and so +I hoped they had slept all night. Then I went into the dairy and cut +enough bread and cheese to last for the day, and before anyone was up +at Garthowen, I was far on my way towards Caer-Madoc. + +"I sailed from there to Cardiff, and there on the docks I saw many of +my old friends--Tom Powell and Jim Bowen, and many others; but diwss +anwl! I was ashamed to look them in the face, so I avoided them all, +and went amongst the English and the foreign sailors; and in every port +I was avoiding the Welsh sailors, and when I came to Cardiff I never +went to Kitty Jones's any more. + +"Well, then, I took ship for South America, and I didn't come home for +two years. All that time I led a wild and reckless life, Sara fāch. +Wasn't a fight but I was in it--wasn't a row but Gethin Owens was +there, drinking and swearing and rioting. I didn't care a cockle-shell +what became of me; and if ever a man was on the brink of destruction, +it was Gethin Owens of Garthowen during those two years. I tried +everything to drown my sorrows. + +"'Twas just then in Monte Video I caught a fever--the yellow fever they +call it--and I was in the hospital there for many weeks. They told me +afterwards that I had a very bad turn of it. The doctors said they'd +never seen a man so ill and yet recover. I took their word for it. +But I knew nothing about it myself, for I was as happy as a king those +weeks, roaming about Garthowen slopes, dancing in the mill, and +whistling at the plough, and Morva at my side always. Dei anwl! When +I came to myself, and saw the bare, whitewashed walls of the hospital, +the foreign nurses moving about--very kind and tender they were, too, +but 'twasn't Morva--Garthowen slopes, Morva, the mill and the moor had +all gone, and when I saw where I was, what will you think of me, Sara, +when I tell you I cried like a little child, like I did the day when I +tore myself away from little Morva long ago, when I ran away from home, +and heard her calling after me, 'Gethin! Gethin!' + +"The nurse was very kind to me. She saw my tears were falling like the +rain. ''Tis weak you are, poor fellow,' says she, for she could speak +English. God bless her! I will never forget her. And she did her +best to strengthen me with good food and cheering words; and in time I +got well, but 'twas many months before I felt like myself again. + +"Well, in the next bed to mine was a man, brought in when I was at my +worst, or my best, having that jolly time on Garthowen slopes with +Morva. When I came to myself, he was there, poor fellow, as yellow as +a guinea, with black shadows under his eyes, and the parched lips that +showed he was having a hard fight for his life. But singing he was all +through the long nights in that strange place, though his voice was so +weak and husky you could scarcely hear him; but the words, Sara fāch! +I almost rose up in my bed when I heard them. What d'ye think they +were but, 'Yn y dyfroedd mawr a'r tņnau'?[1] My heart leapt out to him +at once, and I tried hard to speak to him, but he couldn't hear me; and +when I was getting better he was getting worse, till one day the black +vomit came on, and then I thought 'twas all over with him. But instead +of that, it seemed to do him good, for he got better after that, and +very soon I was able to sit a bit by his bedside, and to talk to him +about the old country. His name was Jacob Ellis, and he had been +captain of the _Albatross_ trading between Swansea and Cardiff and +Monte Video. He hadn't a relation in the world that he knew of. He +had got on well, and had saved five hundred pounds. They were safe in +the bank at Cardiff, and when he found he was not going to get better +after all--for he hadn't the same healthy constitution that I +had--well, nothing would do for him but he must make his will and leave +all he had to me. 'Twas all right and proper, Sara, and the nurse and +the doctor witnessed it. + +"Caton pawb! he thought I had done a lot for him, poor fellow; when, if +he only knew, the Welsh hymns and the talks about Wales had helped me +to get well. I had my hand on his, just like you have yours on mine +now, when he died. He said a few serious words to me before he went, +Sara. I will keep them to myself, but I can tell you they often come +back to my memory. Well, he died and I got well, and as soon as I was +strong enough I hired on board a ship bound for Cardiff. I went at +once to a lawyer to see about my 500 pounds, and I felt a rich man, I +can tell you, but there was no pleasure in it, Sara. + +"I would willingly have thrown it over the docks, if that would blot +out one evening behind the broom bushes at Garthowen, and one night +when I saw a sight which spoilt my life. It's twenty minutes to the +starting time yet, Sara. Art tired, or will I tell the rest of my +story?" + +"Go on, 'machgen i," said Sara, "tell it me all today, and there will +be no need for us ever to have any more talk about it." + +"No; that is what I wish," said Gethin. "Well, with my pay in my +pocket, and 500 pounds at my back, I thought I would enjoy myself as +much as I could, and smother the hiraeth[2] that was so strong upon me, +the longing to go home to see Morva, and you, and the moor, Sara; my +father, Ann, and Will, and all of them were dragging sore at my heart, +so I threw myself in with a lot of roystering fellows, who were bent +upon having as many sprees as they could while their money lasted. I +was keeping away from the Welsh sailors entirely, and my friend, Ben +Barlow, and I were having what they call in English a jolly time. We +went together to a low place near the docks, where there was singing +and dancing every night for sailors. I saw many of my old companions +there and amongst them was a girl called Bella Lewis, who used to come +often to see Kitty Jones in Bryn Street. She wasn't a bad sort +altogether, very kind-hearted and merry. She was altered a good deal +since I saw her last, she looked older and thinner, but she was +laughing and dancing as lively as ever. As soon as she caught sight of +me, she came to me, and I think she was real glad to see me, because +she thought I had been kind to her once when she was ill and very poor. + +"'Gethin Owens, I do believe,' she says, 'where have you been all this +long time? Kitty Jones will be glad to see you, whatever.' + +"I saw the foreign sailor she had been dancing with looking very black +at me, and I began to laugh, and talk, and joke with Bella, just to +plague him, and we danced and drank together, and I soon saw that the +two years I had been away had not improved her. She was more noisy, +and her talk was more coarse, and many an oath was on her lips. I saw +it, but I didn't care, because I had become quite reckless, and my +laugh and my jokes were louder than anyone's in the room. + +"'Well, wherever you have been,' says Bella, 'you're very much +improved, Gethin.' + +"'Am I that?' says I. 'And how, then?' + +"'Oh, well, you are not afraid of a joke, and you've not got that hard +look on your mouth when you hear a light word. Oh, anwl! I was afraid +of you those days; but I will say you had a kind heart, Gethin Owens.' + +"'Well,' I says, 'that's alright still, whatever.'" + +"'Well then,' she says, 'if it is, you'll take me to the Vampire +Theatre to-night. Come on, Gethin Owens, for the sake of old times,' +she says; and I was glad to see her, certainly, 'twas so long since I +had met an old friend, and the brandy had got in my head a little, +though I hadn't had so much as Bella. + +"'Come on, then,' sez I, for I couldn't refuse her when she said 'for +the sake of old times'; and I looked round for Ben Barlow to tell him I +was going, but I couldn't see him anywhere. Well, off we went +together, and when we got out in the street, in spite of the flaring +gas-lamps, you could see 'twas a beautiful night. The moon was shining +round and clear above us, and I never could see the full moon, Sara, +even far away in foreign countries, without thinking of Garthowen +slopes and the moor. Well, this night they came before me very plain, +but I shut them out from my thoughts, with the music from The Vampire +sounding loud in nay ears, and Bella Lewis hanging on my arm. + +"All of a sudden, when we reached the door of the theatre, Bella turned +round, and something glittered on her neck in the moonlight. + +"'What is that?' I said, pointing to it. + +"''Tis my necklace that you gave me,' she said; 'twas in my pocket at +the dancing. I was so afraid it would drop off.' + +"And there it was hanging row under row, and the shells showing all +their colours in the bright moonlight. I don't know how can such +things be, Sara, but as sure as I'm here I saw Morva standing there, +just as I saw her that night when I gave her her necklace, standing +under the elder-tree, with the round moon shining full on her face. +Sara, woman, I nearly lost my breath, and had to lay my hand on the +doorpost to steady myself. Bella had hold of my arm, and I felt as if +a snake was hanging there that I wanted to throw off. The music came +full and loud into the street, and I hated it all. I cannot tell what +came over me, but my knees trembled and my hands--mine, remember, +Gethin Owens, the big, strong sailor!--my hands were shaking like a +leaf when I took the tickets. I tried to throw it off, and to laugh +and talk again with Bella. + +"'What's the matter?' she said; but I couldn't answer, for whenever I +looked at her that glittering necklace brought Morva's face before me +so plain as if she had been there herself; and when we sat down in the +theatre I couldn't hear the music and I couldn't see the stage, because +soft in my ears was Morva's voice calling me, like she called me that +day on the slopes when I tore myself from her little clinging arms: +'Gethin! Gethin! come back!' was plain in my ears. + +"I looked round me quite moidered. Lots of Bella's friends were there, +and lots of mine; but I could not stop. I stood up, determined to go +out, whatever the others might think of me, for all the time Morva's +voice was in my ears calling 'Gethin! Gethin!' + +"'I am going,' said I to Bella; 'somebody is calling me.' And there, +close to me, who should I see but Ben Barlow sitting alone. I pushed +the play bill in his hand. 'Look after Bella,' I said; 'I am going,' +and I went towards the door. I could hear Bella's friends laughing and +shouting, and the last thing I heard as I went out was a shower of bad +names and foul words that Bella was flinging after me. + +"The tide is nearly full, I see; she'll be starting directly, but I +have almost told you everything now. + +"I shipped for another long voyage after that, and only now I have come +back; but indeed, Sara fāch, whether 'twas a dream or vision, or what, +I don't know, but never, in storms or wrecks or fine weather, on land +or sea, will I forget the strong hand that laid hold of me that night, +and turned my face away from the music, the lights, the sin and the +folly of the town. I have told thee all, Sarah fāch. Wilt still be my +friend?" + +"For ever, 'machgen i!" + +"Then it is to the old country I'm going, Sara, back to the sea wind, +the song of the lark, and the call of the seagulls on the bay. I'll be +home one of these days; as soon as I can get things settled here. +Diwss anwl! I must make haste or the steamer will start with me +aboard. All right, captain, take care of her. She's a good friend to +me." + +"Don't I know it?" said the old captain, shaking hands warmly with +both. "Didn't she come up with me about a month ago, and didn't I +direct her to safe lodgings? 'Fraid I was, man, that with her innocent +face and her wide tick pocket, she would be robbed or murdered or +something. But here you are safe again, little woman. Going home to +the old countryside?" + +"Yes," said Sara, laughing. "I am quite safe, and I have spent a +pleasant time with Kitty Jones, but I am not sorry to leave your big +smoky town. Ach y fi! 'tis pity to think so many people live and die +there without sight of the sea and the cliffs and the moor. Poor +things! poor things!" + +"Well! 'tis well to be contented with one's lot," said the old man, +"but I don't know how I would be now without a sight of the docks and +the shipping, and a yarn with my old comrades on the waterside +sometimes, but I am going to try it, whatever. Marged is grumbling +shockin' because I don't stop at home in our little cottage. It's a +purty place, too, just a mile outside Carmarthen, but quiet it is, +shockin' quiet! And you, Gethin Owens, little did I think these two +years I bin meeting you about the docks and the shipping, that you wass +the son of my old friend, Ebben Owens of Garthowen! Why din you tell +me, man?" + +Gethin coloured with embarrassment, while he pretended to arrange a +sheltered seat for Sara, who came bravely to his assistance. + +"And how could he know, captain, that you were the friend of his +father?" she said in Welsh, for she had gathered the sense of the +English talk between the two sailors. + +"Well! that's true indeed," said the captain, scratching his head; "we +were both in the dark. But there's the bell! You must go, my lad, if +you won't come with us." + +"Not to-day," replied Gethin, "but one of these next days I'll be +following that good little woman." + +And when, from the edge of the wharf, he watched the little steamer +making her way between the river craft, Sara's red mantle making a +bright spot in the grey of the fog and smoke, his heart went with her +to the old homestead, his old haunts, and his old friends. + + + +[1] "In the deep waters and the waves," a well-known and favourite hymn. + +[2] Home sickness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +TURNED OUT! + +The first few days following the Sciet were days of anxious waiting for +Ebben Owens. He had laid his soul bare before his son, the idol of his +life, and he waited for the answer to his letter, with as intense an +anxiety as does a prisoner for the sentence of the judge. He rose with +the dawn as was always his custom, but now, instead of the active +supervision of barn or stable or cowshed, which had filled up the early +morning hours, his time was spent in roaming over the moor or the +lonely shore, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes bent on the +ground. Morva watched him from the door of her cottage, and often, as +the morning mists evaporated in curling wisps before the rising sun, +the sad, gaunt figure would emerge from the shadows and pass over the +moorland path. Then would Morva waylay him with a cheerful greeting. + +"There's a brāf day we are going to have, 'n'wncwl Ebben!--" + +"Yes, I think," the old man would answer, looking round him as if just +awakening to the fact. + +"Yes, look at the mist now rolling away from Moel Hiraethog, and look +at those rocks on Traeth y daran which looked so grey ten minutes ago; +see them, all tipped with gold, and, oh, anwl, look at those blue +shadows behind them, and the bay all blue and silver!" + +"Yes," answered her companion, looking round with sad eyes, "'tis all +beautiful." + +"Well, now," said Morva, "I am only an ignorant girl, I know, and I +have many foolish thoughts passing through my mind, but this, 'n'wncwl +Ebben, isn't it a wise and a true one? 'Tis Sara has told me, +whatever." + +"What is it?" he asked. "If Sara told thee 'tis sure to be right." + +"Yes, of course," said Morva. + +The sun was gradually lighting up the moor with golden radiance. The +old man stood with his back to the light, the girl facing him, bathed +in the bright effulgence of the sunrise, her hair in threads of gold +blown by the sea breeze like a halo round her face, her blue eyes +earnest with the light of an inner conviction which she desired to +convey to her companion. + +"Look, now," she said, "how everything is bathed in light and beauty! +Where are the grey shadows and the curling mists? All gone! 'Tis the +same world, 'n'wncwl Ebben, dear, but the sun has come and chased away +the darkness. 'Tis like the grace of God, so mother says, if we will +open our hearts and let it in, it shines upon us like the sunlight. +His love spreads through our whole being, He blots out our sins if we +are sorry for them, He smiles upon us and holds out His loving arms to +us, and yet we turn our backs upon Him, and walk about in the shadows +with our heads bent down, and our eyes fixed upon the ground. Every +morning, mother says, when the sun rises, God is telling us, 'This is +how I love you, this is how I will fill your hearts with warmth and +light and joy.' Now, isn't that true, 'n'wncwl Ebben?" + +"What about the mornings when the mist does not clear away, lass, but +turns to driving rain?" + +"Oh, well, then," said Morva, not a whit daunted, "the rain and the +clouds are wanted sometimes for the good of the earth, and, remember, +'tis only a thin veil they make; the sunshine is behind them all the +time, filling up the blue air, and ready to shine through the least +break in the clouds. And, after all, 'n'wncwl Ebben," she added, in a +coaxing tone, "'tis very seldom the mornings do turn to rain and fog. +You and I, who are out on the mountains so early, know that better than +the townspeople, who lie in bed till nine o'clock, they say, and often +by that time the glory of the morning is shaded over." + +"Well, perhaps," he said. "Thou art more apt to count the clear dawns, +while I count the grey ones." + +"Twt, twt, you must leave off counting the grey ones. There's a verse +in mother's Bible that says, 'Forgetting the things which are behind, +and reaching forth unto those things which are before.'" + +"Yes, indeed, 'merch i, I've read it many times, but I never thought +much of the meaning of it before. 'Tis a comforting verse, whatever, +and I will look for it in my Bible." + +"Yes, I suppose 'tis in every Bible," said Morva, with a merry laugh; +"but, indeed, I feel as if mother's brown Bible was the best in the +world, and was full of messages to brighten our lives. Didn't I say I +was a foolish girl?" + +"Thee't a good girl, whatever; but 'tis time to milk the cows." + +"Yes, indeed. Let me shut the door and I will come back with you." +And as she ran over the dewy grass, he looked after her with a smile. + +"She's got the sea wind in her heels, I think," he said. + +He chatted cheerfully as they walked home together, and gladdened Ann's +heart by making a good breakfast. + +In the course of the morning Morva entered the best kitchen, bearing a +letter which Dyc "pigstye" had just brought from Pont-y-fro. + +"Tis from Will, 'n'wncwl Ebben," said the girl; "here are your glasses, +or will I call Ann to read it to you?" + +"Let me see, is it English or Welsh?" said Ebben Owens, opening it with +trembling fingers. "Oh! 'tis Welsh, so read thou to me. My glasses +are not suiting me so well as they were." + +The truth was, he was too nervous to read the letter himself, a fact +which Morva quite comprehended. + + +"MY DEAR FATHER," began Will, "I daresay you are expecting to hear from +me, but I have had a good deal to do since we returned from our wedding +tour. The contents of this letter will surprise you, I am sure, but I +hope they will please you too. We are very happy in our new home, and +my uncle, though living under the same roof with us, is very kind and +considerate, and never interferes with our plans. He seems very fond +of Gwenda, and it would be strange if he were not, for she is as good +as she is beautiful. The church here is filled with a large +congregation, and they seem to appreciate my ministrations thoroughly. +There is, I am glad to say, very little dissent in the parish. You +know I never liked dissent, but Gwenda is broader in her views, and +wants to convert me to her way of thinking. Now this letter is really +more a message from her than from me. She wants to know if you will +have us at the farm for a week or a fortnight, when the spring is a +little more advanced. She wants to see the moor when the gorse is in +blossom. She would like to know you more intimately, she says, and +would enjoy nothing more than a taste of real farm life; she therefore +begs, that if you can have us you will not make any alteration in your +ways of living. She sends her love to Ann, and hopes she will put up +with her for a little while. If you will let us know when it will be +convenient to you, we will fix a time to come to Garthowen. I remain, +dear father, + + "Your affectionate son, + + "WILLIAM OWEN." + + +Ebben Owens had been gradually growing more excited, and at the last +word said with a gasp: + +"He has forgotten my confession, Morva; I am of no consequence to him!" + +"Yes--yes," said the girl, "here's another half sheet with 'P.S.' at +the top," and she continued to read: + + +"Dear father, Gwenda was looking over my shoulder, so I could not add +what I say now. Please ask Ann to put the best knives and forks on the +table, and to bring out mother's silver teapot when we come. I forgot +to refer to the contents of your last letter. You make too much of +your fault, dear father, you have made a cornstack of a barleymow. I +am only sorry you have published it abroad as you have done. You need +only have confessed to God, or if you wanted to do more, I am an +ordained priest. I can't imagine why you did not ask Gwilym to lend +you the money; at all events you returned it as soon as you could. Ask +Jacob the Mill to keep one of Fan's pups for me." + + +Ebben Owens was too excited by the rest of the letter to notice the +callousness of the postscript, and thought only of the kindness which +so easily forgave his sin. + +"Call Ann," he said, and Morva went joyfully. + +"Come, Ann fāch!" she cried, at the foot of the stairs, "here's good +news for you. Will and his wife are coming to see you." + +Ann came down in a flurry, half of pleasure and half of fright. + +"Oh, anwl!" she said, as she entered the kitchen, "there's a happy time +it will be for us all. Oh! mustn't we bustle about and get everything +nice for them. I must rub up the furniture in the best bedroom and get +the silver teapot out and the silver spoons!" + +"Yes," said her father, rubbing his knees, "'twill be a grand time +indeed! When will they come, I wonder? Perhaps we have not quite lost +Will after all." + +"Twt, twt, no," said Morva; "didn't mother always say that they would +come back to you?" + +"Yes, indeed--do you think she meant Gethin too?" + +"I think she meant him too," said Morva, blushing. + +"When will the gorse and the heather be in full bloom, I wonder? Caton +pawb! I have never noticed it much," asked the old man. + +"Oh! in another month," answered Morva, "'twill be gold and purple all +over, with soft blue and brown shadows in the mornings, and in the +evenings grey and copper in all the little hollows. Oh, 'tis +beautiful! and I can show her where the plovers lay their eggs, and I +will take her to listen for the curlew's note coming out of the mist +like a spirit whistler, and I can take her down to the rocks by Ogo +Wylofen, too, where the seals are making their home. But, indeed, Will +knows it all as well as I do, and he will like to show them all to her +himself, I think." + +From that day light seemed to dawn upon the old man's soul; his step +grew firmer, he stooped less in the shoulders, he looked less on the +ground and more bravely on his fellow travellers on the road of life. +He did not flinch from the consequences of his confession, but seemed +to find some inward peace, which more than recompensed him for the +discredit which he had brought upon himself. From this time forward a +great change was observable in him, a change for which we can find no +better name than _conversion_. It is an old-fashioned word, all but +tabooed in modern polite society, but where will be found another which +so well expresses the complete transformation in the life and character +of a man who awakes from the sleep of selfish worldliness, to the +better and higher principles of spiritual life? To every human being +this awakening comes sooner or later. To some, gradually and naturally +as the dawning of morning, and the bright effulgence of its rays is not +recognised until the darkness and clouds have already rolled away, and, +lo, it is day. Upon others it bursts with the suddenness of a +thunderstorm, and the soul cowers under the threatening peals, and is +riven by the lightning flashes of conscience before it reaches the +haven of calm and peace. To some, alas, the awakening comes not at +all, until through the open door of death the soul escapes from the +veil of flesh which has hidden from it the true life. + +"Is there a 'Sciet' next Sunday?" asked Ebben Owens, as they all sat at +tea together one evening. + +"No--not till the Sunday after," said Gwilym, reddening. + +Ann's hand shook as she poured out the tea. + +"Father bāch!" she said tenderly, looking at him with eyes in which the +tears welled up. + +"Oh! don't you vex about me," said the old man. "I must bear my +punishment like everyone else; 'twill not be so hard as I deserve." + +"I must not let my feelings influence me in this matter," said Gwilym, +"though you know, father, how it breaks my heart." + +And he held his shapely hand across the table and grasped the old man's +warmly. + +"Yes, yes, 'tis all right; you must do your duty, only I would like it +to be over soon. Gwae fi! that it could be next Sunday." + +"Well, I will give it out at the prayer-meeting tonight if you like, +and have a special meeting next Sunday." + +"Yes," said Ebben Owens, "the sooner I am turned out the better. I am +quite prepared. Perhaps they will take me back again some day, though +I was pretty hard upon Gryffy Lewis when he got drunk, and would not +agree to his being taken back again for months, when the other deacons +were quite ready to forgive him. Well, well! I must live a good many +years yet to repent of all my bad ways, and you must have patience with +me, my little children." + +"Well, next Sunday it shall be then," answered the preacher; "and may +God turn the bitter to sweet for you, father bāch." + +"Oh, it will be all right for me!" said the old man again, and sitting +under the big chimney after tea, Tudor and Gwil both leaning on his +knees, the old peace and content seemed in some measure to have +returned to him. + +The following market day was a trying ordeal to him, but one from which +he did not flinch. + +At breakfast no one suggested the usual journey into Castell On, until +Ebben himself called to Magw as she passed through the kitchen. + +"Tell them to harness Bowler, and put the two pigs in the car. I'll +sell them to-day if I can." + +"I will come too," said Ann, "and take little Gwil to have a new cap. +He wants one shocking." + +She chatted volubly as they drove under the leafy ash branches which +bordered the road, her father answering only in monosyllables. + +When the pigs had been carried shrieking, in the usual unceremonious +ear-and-tail fashion into their pens, and Bowler had been led into the +"Lamb" yard, the old man looked rather forlorn and desolate as he gazed +after Ann, who was making her way with little Gwil down the busy street. + +"'Twill be hard to bear to-day," he thought. "They are all talking +about me; but 'tis not so hard as I deserve." + +Suddenly a hand was laid on his arm, and a kindly greeting reached his +ears. Mr. Price the vicar, standing at his window, had observed the +Garthowen car pass into the market, and had startled his housekeeper by +turning round suddenly with the question. + +"Didn't you say we wanted a pig, Jinny?" + +"That I did about six months ago, sare, but you never got one. We +wanted one then because we had so much milk to spare, but now Corwen is +drying up very much, and Beauty is not so good as she was." + +Mr. Price took snuff vigorously. + +"I think a little pig would look well in that stye, and he would be +company for you, Jinny and we could buy a little bran or mash or +something for him," he added, hunting for his stick and hat, and +hurrying to the front door, Jinny looking after him with a smile of +amused disdain. + +"'Ts-ts!" she said; "Mistheer, pwr fellow, is very ignorant, though he +is so learned. 'Tis a wonder, indeed, he didn't want to buy hay for +the pig!" + +But she went out pleased, nevertheless, and spread a bed of yellow +straw in readiness for her expected "company." + +"I wonder who is wanting to sell a pig now," she soliloquised. "I +daresay Mishteer saw an old 'bare bones' passing that nobody else would +buy, and is going to take pity on him." + +"Poor old Ebben Owens. 'Twill be hard for him to-day," thought the +vicar, as he made his way to the pig market, and in another moment he +was gladdening the heart of the lonely old man by his kindly greeting. + +"Well, well, Mr. Price, sir! Is it you indeed so early in the market?" + +"Yes, I have come to buy a pig," said the vicar, holding out his hand. + +Embarrassment and shame suffused Ebben Owens's face with a burning +glow, and he hesitated to place his own hand in the vicar's. + +"Have you heard about me, sir?" he asked, + +"I have heard everything," answered the vicar, grasping the timid hand +and pressing it warmly. + +"And yet you shake hands with me, sir? Well, indeed." + +"Yes, with more respect than I have ever done before. Not condoning +your sin, remember that, Ebben Owens; but honouring you for having the +courage to confess it. That is sufficient proof of your repentance." + +There were tears in the old man's eyes as he tried to answer; but Mr. +Price, seeing his emotion, hastened to change the subject. + +"Now let us see the pigs," he said, holding out his snuff box, from +which Ebben Owens helped himself with more cheerfulness than he had +felt since the meeting at which he had made his confession. + +They bent over the pen in conclave, during which the vicar exhibited +such lamentable ignorance of the points of a pig that, had it not been +for his previous kindness, he would have fallen considerably in the old +farmer's estimation. + +"This is the fattest," he said, prodding one with his stick, and trying +to look like a connoisseur. + +"Oh! he's too fat for you, sir; this is the one that would look well on +your table." + +"Poor thing," said the vicar, a shadow falling on his face, as he +realised that there would come a morning when the air would be rent +with shrieks, and he would wish himself in the next parish. "No doubt, +you're right, you're right, he looks a nice little pig; there's a nice +curl in his tail, and I like his ears; he'll do very nicely. And +here's Dyc 'pigstye.' Well, Dyc, how are you? Will you drive the pig +home to my yard, and tell Jinny to give him a good meal, and a glass of +beer for you, Dyc. And now we have settled that matter," he said, +turning to the farmer with a business-like air, "I want you to come +home with me, Owens, I won't keep you long, just that you may see a +very nice letter I have had from your brother, Dr. Owen; 'tis all about +your son and his bride, and the home they are coming to." + +"But, Mr. Price, sir, you haven't asked the price of the pig," said the +farmer, with a gasp. + +"Bless me! no!" said the vicar, "I quite forgot that," and he laughed +heartily at his own want of thought. "But I'm sure it won't be much. +Two or three pounds, I suppose!" + +"Two pounds I thought of getting for this one, and two pound ten for +the other." + +"Very cheap, too," said the vicar, drawing out the two sovereigns from +his waistcoat pocket. + +Leaving the pen in charge of a friend, Ebben Owens accompanied Mr. +Price in a state of joyful bewilderment. To walk up the street, in +friendly converse with the vicar, he felt would do more than anything +else to reinstate him in the good opinion of his neighbours, and as +they passed through the crowded market in animated and confidential +conversation, the hard verdict which many a man had passed on his +conduct was changed into one of pitying sympathy. + +"Well," they thought, "the vicar has forgiven him, whatever, and he is +a good man." + +Sitting in the vicarage dining-room, listening to the praises of his +beloved son, Ebben Owens became less depressed, and felt braver to meet +the consequences of his confession. + +Although he never discovered that the purchase of the pig was but a +blind of the vicar's to hide his plans for helping him to regain, in +some degree, the respect of his neighbours, Ebben Owens never forgot +the strengthening sympathy held out to him on that much dreaded +morning, and Price the vicar became to him ever after, the exemplar of +all Christian graces. + +"There's a man now," he would say, rubbing his knees as he sat under +the big chimney at home; "there's a man now, is fit to help you in this +world, and to guide you to the next; and there's the truth! But he +does not know much about pigs." + +The prospect of seeing Will once more in his old home shed a radiance +over everything, and in spite of the humiliation and contrition which +overshadowed him, a new-born calmness and peace gradually filled his +heart. + +To Morva too had come a season of content and joy--why, she could not +tell, for she was not free from anxiety concerning Sara's prolonged +absence. Certainly the longing for Gethin's return increased every +day, but in spite of this, life seemed to hold for her a cup brimming +over with happiness. Going home through the gloaming one evening, +singing the refrain of her milking song, she broke off suddenly and +began to run towards the cottage, for lo! against the brown hill across +the valley she saw the blue smoke rise from Sara's thatched chimney, +and in another moment a patch of scarlet showed bright against the +golden furze. + +"Mother anwl! Dear mother! you have come!" + +And she was folded in the tender loving arms. + +"My little daughter! I have missed thee!" said Sara, and together they +entered the cottage. + +Supper was on the table, and the crock of porridge hung over the +blazing furze fire on the hearth. + +"They called me into Penlau," said Sara, "as I passed through the yard, +and made me bring this oatmeal, 'for thee'lt want something quick for +thy supper,' they said; and there's asking questions they were about +what I had seen in Cardiff. Let us have our bwdran, child, for oh! I +am tired of the white bread, and the meat, and the puddings they have +in the towns. Kitty Jones was very kind, making all sorts of dainties +for me, but 'tis bwdran and porridge and cawl and bacon is the fittest +food for human beings after all, and the nicest." + +"Oh, mother, tell me what you have seen?" + +"My little girl, 'twill take many days to tell thee all. Ladies in +silks and satins--carriages and horses sparkling in the sun--men +playing such beautiful music through shining brass horns--little +children dressed up like the dolls you see at the fairs--fruit of every +kind--grand houses and gay streets--but oh, Morva, nothing like the +moor when the gorse and heather are in blossom, nothing like the sea +and the rocks and the beautiful sky at night when the stars are +shining; you couldn't see it, Morva, because of the lamps and the +smoke." + +"And the moon, mother, did you see her there?" + +"Well, yes, indeed, she was there, but she was not looking so clear and +so silvery as she is here. No, no, Morva, I thank God I have lived on +the moor, and I pray Him to let me die here." + +Morva was longing to ask whether success had crowned her mother's +mysterious journey, but refrained from doing so with a nervous shyness +which did not generally mark her intercourse with Sara. + +"'Twas a long journey; mother; are you glad you took it?" + +"Why, yes, child, of course, since I've gained my object. Gethin Owens +will be home before long." + +A crimson tide of joy rushed up into Morva's face, and an embarrassment +which she turned away to hide, but which was not lost upon Sara. + +"Well, indeed, then," said the girl, "there's glad 'n'wncwl Ebben will +be. Will I go and tell him when I have finished my bwdran?" + +"No, no, better not tell him anything till Gethin arrives. Lads are so +odd; he may not come for a week, and that would seem long waiting to +his father." + +It was long waiting for Morva too, but she hid the secret in her heart, +and flooded the moor with happy songs. + +On the following Sunday evening a special Sciet was held in the gaunt +grey chapel in the valley; an event of small importance to the outside +world, but to Ebben Owens and every member of his family one of +momentous interest. To them every event of life was brightened or +shaded by its connection with their religious life, and Penmorien +Chapel was almost as sacred in their eyes as the Temple of old was to +the Jews. + +The members dropping in one by one from moor, or village, or shore, +looked with sympathising curiosity as the Garthowen family entered, and +took their places in the corner pew, Ebben Owens sitting with them, and +for the first time for many years vacating his place amongst the +deacons in the square seat under the pulpit. + +A formal admission of sin is of frequent occurrence at an "experience +meeting," but the real confession of a sinful action is very rare. +Therefore the Garthowen family required strong moral courage to enable +them to pass through the trying ordeal of the Sciet, and its fiat of +excommunication, with dignified firmness. + +The doors were closed, the soft sea wind blew up the valley, and the +breaking of the waves on the shore below was distinctly audible. + +Sara and Morva did not attend the Sciet, but shut themselves up in +their cottage, cowering over the fire as if it had been winter. Sara +particularly, appeared to suffer acutely as the evening hours passed on. + +"There's the sun going, mother, 'tis seven o'clock, the Sciet is over. +Will I go and meet them? Oh! mother, I long to comfort 'n'wncwl Ebben." + +"No, child, leave him alone to-night; he has better help than thou +canst give him. To-night he will feel God's presence as he has never +felt it before, and what else will he want, Morva? Come and read our +chapter, 'merch i." + +And while they read by the light of their tiny candle, and the furze +crackled and sparkled up the open chimney, a bronzed and stalwart man +was tramping down the stony road towards the chapel. Looking down the +narrow valley, he saw the broad grey sea, its ripples tipped with the +crimson of the setting sun. To the left towered the high cliffs which +closed in the valley, and on the right stretched away the furze-covered +slopes leading to Garthowen and the moor, and the rough sailor heart +throbbed with the happiness of home-coming and the re-awakening of long +deferred hopes. His brown face lighted up with pleasure, as he waved +his hand towards the sunlit side of the scene, but he turned his face +and his footsteps into the grey shadowed court-yard of the chapel. It +was Gethin! He had sailed into Caer-Madoc harbour in the afternoon, +the ships being the only things considered free to come and go during +the Sabbath hours. He had met an Abersethin man in the town, who had +promised to bring his luggage home in his cart next day, and had +supplemented the promise by the information that on this particular +evening, Ebben Owens would be turned out from the Penmorien Sciet. + +"Jār-i! it's time for me to start, then," said Gethin; "will I be there +in time, d'ye think?" + +"Yes, if you walk sharp; but what will you do? You can't stop them +turning him out! There's a pity!" + +"No, no," said Gethin, "that's all right, I suppose; but I want to be +there to meet the old man at the door. He'll find he's got one son +that'll stick to him, whatever. God bless him!" and he started bravely +along the old familiar road. + +There were lights in the chapel windows as he approached, and outside +the closed doors one solitary friend already waited. It was Tudor, who +had sat there during the service, his eyes fixed on the blank closed +door, doggedly resisting the inviting barks of a collie who had caught +sight of him from the opposite hill. But when his long absent friend +appeared on the scene his self-restraint was thrown to the winds, and +Gethin in vain tried to check the joyous barks which accompanied his +frantic gambols of greeting. + +"Art come to guard the poor old man, lad?" whispered Gethin, holding up +a reproving finger. + +"Yes," said Tudor, as plainly as bark could speak. + +"Then hush-sh-sh," said Gethin, pointing to the closed door, and Tudor +smothered his barks. + +The murmur of voices inside the chapel was distinctly audible, blending +with the soft murmur of the sea. In a few moments the doors were +opened, and the congregation filed out with a more than usually solemn +look in their faces; some of the women dried their eyes, and actually +refrained from even a whispered remark until they had got fairly +outside the "cwrt." + +Gethin kept out of sight until he saw his father leave the chapel, +followed closely by Ann and Gwilym. The bent head and subdued +appearance of the old man went straight to the sailor's warm, impulsive +heart. With a single step he was at his father's side, taking his arm +and linking it in his own. + +"Who is it?" said Ebben Owens, his eyes blinded by tears and the +darkening twilight. + +"Gethin it is, father bāch! come home to ask your forgiveness for all +his foolish ways, and to stick to you and to old Garthowen for ever and +ever." + +"Is it Gethin?" asked the old man, in a tone of awed astonishment; "is +it Gethin indeed? Then God has forgiven me. I said to myself: 'When I +see my boy Gethin at home again, then will I believe that God has +forgiven me.' Now I will be happy though I'm turned out of the Sciet. +God will not turn me out of heaven, now that Gethin my son has forgiven +me. Hast heard all my bad ways, lad?" + +"Yes," said Gethin, "and I will confess, father, it nearly broke my +heart. It made me feel there was no good in the world, if my old +father was not good. But when I heard how brave you were in telling +the whole world how you had fallen, and how you repented, my heart was +leaping for joy. 'Now there's a man,' says I to myself, 'a man worth +calling my father!' Any man may fall before temptation, but 'tisn't +every man is brave enough to confess his sins before the world!" + +Arm was already hanging on her brother's arm and pressing it +occasionally to her side. + +"Oh, Gethin!" she said, "Garthowen has been sad and sorrowful, but +to-night it seems as if you had brought back all the sunshine. There's +happy we'll be now." + +"'Tisn't my doing," said her brother, "'tis Sara Lloyd who has done it +all. God bless her! She came all the way to Cardiff to fetch me home. +And where is she to-night? I thought she and Morva would surely be at +chapel." + +"She has kept away for my sake, I think," said his father. "They call +her Sara ''spridion,' and they mean no good by it, but I think 'tis a +good name for her, whatever, for I believe the good spirits are always +around her, helping her and blessing her just as she is always helping +and blessing everybody around her." + +"To be sure they are," said Gethin; "I always knew it from a little +boy. Whether living or dying 'twould be well to be in Sara's shoes!" + +When they reached the old farmyard, and passed under the elder tree +where the fowls and turkeys were already roosting in rows on the +branches, little Gwil bounded out to meet them, Gwilym Morris at the +same moment caught them up from behind, and Ebben Owens felt that his +cup of earthly happiness was refilled almost to overflowing. Gethin +alone missed Morva. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A DANCE ON THE CLIFFS + +On the following morning Gethin was up with the dawn, and so was every +one else at Garthowen, for the day seemed one of re-birth and renewal +of the promise of life to all. Leading his son from cowhouse to barn, +from barn to stable, Ebben Owens dilated with newly-awakened pleasure +upon the romance of Will's marriage, and on his coming visit with his +bride to his old home, Gethin listening with untiring patience, as he +followed his father from place to place. The new harrow and pigstye +were inspected, the two new cows and Malen's foal were interviewed, and +then came Gethin's hour of triumph, when with pardonable pride he +informed his father of his own savings, and of the legacy which had so +unexpectedly increased his store; also of his plans for the future +improvement of the farm. Ebben Owens sat down on the wheel-barrow on +purpose to rub his knees, and Gethin's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but +he looked round in vain for Morva. Some new-born shyness had +overwhelmed her to-day; she could not make up her mind to meet Gethin. +She had longed for the meeting so much, and now that it was within her +reach, she put the joy away from her, with the nervous indecision of a +child. + +"Have the cows been milked?" asked Gethin, casting his eyes again over +the farmyard. + +"Oh, yes," said Magw, "while you were in the barn, Morva helped me, and +ran home directly; she said her mother wanted her." + +All the morning she was absent, and nobody noticed it except Gethin, +and Gwilym Morris, who, with his calm, observant eyes, had long +discovered the secret of their love for each other. An amused smile +hovered round his lips as, later in the forenoon, he entered the best +kitchen bringing Gethin with him from the breezy hillside. Morva was +tying Gwil's cap on when they entered, and could no longer avoid the +meeting; but if Gwilym had expected a rapturous greeting, he was +disappointed; for no shy schoolboy and girl ever met in a more +undemonstrative manner than did these two, who for so long had hungered +for each other's presence. + +"Hello, Morva! How art, lass, this long time?" said Gethin, taking her +hand in his big brown palm in an awkward, shame-faced manner, and +dropping it at once as if it had scorched him. + +"Well, indeed, Gethin. How art thou? There's glad we are to see thee. +Stand still, Gwil," and she stooped to unfasten the knot which she had +just tied. + +Apparently there was nothing more to be said, and Gwilym saw with +amusement how all day long they avoided each other, or met with feigned +indifference. + +"Ah, well," he thought, "'tis too much happiness for them to grasp at +once. How well I remember when Ann and I, though we sought for each +other continually, yet avoided each other like two shy fawns." + +In the evening, when the sun had set and given place to a soft round +moon, he was not at all astonished to find that Gethin was missing: nor +was he surprised, as he stood at the farm door, to see him rounding the +Cribserth and disappear on the moonlit moor. + +Reaching the broom bushes, Gethin waited in their shadows, recalling +every word and every look of Morva's on that well-remembered night, +when she had turned away from him so firmly, though so sorrowfully. +Waiting, he paced the greensward, sometimes stopping to toss a pebble +over the cliffs, and ever watching where on the grey moor a little +spark of light shone from Sara's window. + +Was he mistaken? Would she come to-night? Surely yes, for the broom +bushes grew close to the path to Garthowen, and over that path she was +constantly passing and repassing, whether in daylight or starlight or +moonlight. + +"'Tis very quiet here," he thought. "It makes me think of a night +watch at sea." + +The sea heaved gently down below, the waves breaking softly and +regularly on the beach. He heard the rustling of the grasses as they +trembled in the night breeze, the hoot of the owl in the ivied chimneys +of Garthowen, the distant barking of a dog, the tinkle of a chain on +some fishing boat rocking on the undulating waves; but no other sound +broke the silence of the night. + +"Jār-i! there's slow she is, if she's coming at all," said Gethin. +"Will I go and see how Sara is after her journey? 'Tis what I ought to +do, and no mistake, after all her kindness." + +And leaving the shadow of the bushes, he stepped out into the full +moonlight, only to meet Morva face to face. + +"Well, indeed, Gethin!" she exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting to see you +here so far from Garthowen." + +"No; nor I, lass," said Gethin, taking her hand, and continuing to hold +it. "I was so surprised to see thee out alone to-night; it gave me a +start. I was not expecting to see thee." + +"No, of course," said Morva, "and I wouldn't be here, only I was afraid +I had not fastened the new calf up safely and--and--" + +And they looked at each other and laughed. + +"Well, now, 'tis no use telling stories about it," said Gethin; "I will +confess, Morva, I came here to look for thee; but I can't expect thee +to say the same--or didst expect to see me, too, lass? Say yes, now, +da chi!" [1] + +Morva hung her head, but answered mischievously: + +"Well, if I did, I won't tell tales about myself, whatever; but, +indeed, I mustn't stop long. Mother will be waiting for me." + +"She will guess where thou art, and I cannot let thee go, lass. Dost +remember the last time we were here?" + +"Yes--yes, I remember." + +"Dost remember I told thee what I would say if I were Will? Wilt +listen to me now, lass, though I am only Gethin?" + +Is it needful to tell that she did stay long--that Sara did guess where +she was; and that there, in the moonlight, with the sea breeze +whispering its own love messages in their ears, the words were spoken +for which each had been thirsting ever since they had met there last? + + * * * * * * + +In the early sunrise of the next morning Ebben Owens, too, was crossing +the moor. He wanted to tell Sara of the happiness which his son's +return had brought him, and to thank her for her share in bringing it +to pass. He wanted, too, to tell her of the sorrow and repentance +which filled his heart, and the deep gratitude he felt for all she had +done for him. + +She was already in her garden attending to her bees. + +"Sara, woman," said the old man, standing straight before her with +outstretched hands. + +"Dear, dear, Ebben Owens, so early coming to see me! Sit thee down, +then, here in the sun," and she placed her hand in his, endeavouring to +draw him down beside her; but he resisted her gentle pressure and, +still standing, bent his head like a guilty child. + +"No, no," he said, with a tremble in his voice. "Tell me first, can'st +forgive me my shameful sin? Everybody is forgiving me too easy, much +too easy, I know. 'Tis only one will be always remembering, and that +is me." + +"I am not surprised at that, and I am glad to hear those words from +thee," said Sara, "but my forgiveness, Ebben bāch, is as full and free +as I believe thy repentance is deep." + +And gradually the old man ceased to resist her gentle persuasions, and, +sitting down beside her, the bees humming round them, and the sun +rising higher and higher in the sky, they conversed together in that +perfect communion of soul which sometimes gilds the friendship of old +age. Together they had experienced the joys of youth, in middle age +both had tasted the bitterness of sorrow, and now in old age the calm +and peace of evening was beginning to shine upon one as it had long +shone upon the other. + +"I have never thanked thee," he said at last, "for all thy +loving-kindness to me; never in words, Sara, but I have felt it; and I +thank God that thou art living here so near me, where I can come +sometimes for refreshment of spirit, as my journey draws towards the +end, for I am a weak man, as thou knowest, and often stumble in my +path. Ever since that first mistake of my life I have suffered the +punishment of it, Sara, and thou hast reaped the golden blessing." + +"Yes," said Sara, looking dreamily over the garden hedge, "I have had +more than compensation, my cup is full and running over. No one can +understand how bright life is to me," and over her face there spread a +light and rapture which Ebben Owens gazed at with a kind of wondering +reverence. + + +"There's no doubt thou hast something within thee that few others +have," he said, with a shake of his head. + +Here Morva arrived from the milking, and finding them still sitting in +the sunshine in earnest conversation, held her finger up reprovingly, +and begged them to come in to breakfast. + +"Oh, stop, 'n'wncwl Ebben, and have breakfast with us. Uwd it is, and +fresh milk from Garthowen." + +"No, no, child," said the old man, rising. "Ann will be waiting for +me; I must go at once." + +"Well indeed, she was laying the breakfast. She doesn't want me +to-day, she says, so I am stopping at home with mother to weed the +garden." + +And as Ebben Owens trudged homewards, her happy voice followed him, +breaking clear on the morning air as she sang in the joy other heart: + + "Troodie! Troodie! come down from the mountain; + Troodie! Troodie! come up from the dale; + Moelen and Corwen, and Blodwen and Trodwen, + I'll meet you all with my milking-pail!" + +The echo of it brought a pleased smile to the old man's lips, as he +neared his home and left the clear singing behind him. + +The day had broadened to noontide, and had passed into late afternoon, +when Gethin Owens once more crept round the Cribserth. He crept, +because he heard the sound of Morva's voice, and he would come upon her +unawares--would see the sudden start, the shy surprise, the pink blush +rising to the temples; so he stole from the pathway and crept along +behind the broom bushes, watching through their interlacing branches +while Morva approached from the cottage, singing in sheer lightness of +heart, Tudor following with watchful eyes and waving tail, and a sober +demeanour, which was soon to be laid aside for one of boisterous +gambolling, for on the green sward Morva stopped, and with a bow to +Tudor picked up her blue skirt in the thumb and finger of each hand, +showing her little feet, which glanced in and out beneath her brick-red +petticoat. She was within two yards of Gethin, where he stood still as +a statue, scarcely breathing lest he should disturb the happy pair, his +eyes and his mouth alone showing the merriment and fun which were +brimming over in his heart. + +"Now, 'machgen i," said Morva, "what dost think of me?" and she +curtseyed again to Tudor, who did the same. "Dost like me? dost think +I am grand to-day? See the new bows on my shoes, see the new caddis on +my petticoat, and above all, Tudor, see my beautiful necklace! Come, +lad, let's have a dance, for Gethin's come home," and she began to +imitate as well as she could the dance which Gethin had executed, with +such fatal consequences to her heart, at the Garthowen cynos. Up and +down, round and across, with uplifted gown, Tudor following with +exuberant leaps and barks of delight, and catching at her flying skirts +at every opportunity. As she danced she sang with unerring ear and +precision, the tune that Reuben Davies had played in the dusty mill, +setting to it the words of one refrain, "Gethin's come home, bāchgen! +Gethin's come home!" + +Little did she know that Gethin's delighted ears missed not a note nor +a word of her singing, or silence and dire confusion would have fallen +upon that light-hearted couple who pranked so merrily upon the green. + +But human nature has its limits, even of happy endurance; the +temptation to join that dance was irresistible, and Gethin, suddenly +succumbing to it, sprang out upon them. There was a little scream, a +bark, and a flutter, and Morva, clasped in Gethin's arms, was wildly +whirled in an impromptu dance, round and round the green sward, up and +down, and round again, until, breathless and panting, they stopped from +sheer exhaustion; and when Gethin at last led his laughing partner to +rest under the golden broom bushes, he cared not a whit that she chided +him with a reproving finger, for her voice was full of merriment and +joy. + +The sun was drawing near his setting, and still they sat and talked and +laughed together, Tudor stretched at their feet, and looking from one +to the other with an air of entire approval. + + + +[1] Do. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTHOWEN*** + + +******* This file should be named 18778-8.txt or 18778-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/7/7/18778 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/18778-8.zip b/18778-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9d2735 --- /dev/null +++ b/18778-8.zip diff --git a/18778.txt b/18778.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac2b963 --- /dev/null +++ b/18778.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9864 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Garthowen, by Allen Raine + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Garthowen + A Story of a Welsh Homestead + + +Author: Allen Raine + + + +Release Date: July 7, 2006 [eBook #18778] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTHOWEN*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +GARTHOWEN + +A Story of a Welsh Homestead. + +by + +ALLEN RAINE. + +Author of "Torn Sails," "A Welsh Singer," +"By Berwen Banks," Etc. + + + + + + + +Sixty-Fifth Thousand +London +Hutchinson & Co. +Paternoster Row + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAP. + + I. A Turn of the Road + II. "Garthowen" + III. Morva of the Moor + IV. The Old Bible + V. The Sea Maiden + VI. Gethin's Presents + VII. The Broom Girl + VIII. Garthowen Slopes + IX. The North Star + X. The Cynos + XI. Unrest + XII. Sara's Vision + XIII. The Bird Flutters + XIV. Dr. Owen + XV. Gwenda's Prospects + XVI. Isderi + XVII. Gwenda at Garthowen + XVIII. Sara + XIX. The "Sciet" + XX. Love's Pilgrimage + XXI. The Mate of the "Gwenllian" + XXII. Gethin's Story + XXIII. Turned Out! + XXIV. A Dance on the Cliffs + + + + +GARTHOWEN + + +CHAPTER I + +A TURN OF THE ROAD + +It was a typical July day in a large seaport town of South Wales. +There had been refreshing showers in the morning, giving place to a +murky haze through which the late afternoon sun shone red and round. +The small kitchen of No. 2 Bryn Street was insufferably hot, in spite +of the wide-open door and window. A good fire burnt in the grate, +however, for it was near tea-time, and Mrs. Parry knew that some of her +lodgers would soon be coming in for their tea. One had already +arrived, and, sitting on the settle in the chimney corner, was holding +an animated conversation with his landlady, who stood before him, one +hand akimbo on her side, the other brandishing a toasting fork. Her +beady black eyes, her brick-red cheeks and hanks of coarse hair, were +not beautiful to look upon, though to-day they were at their best, for +the harsh voice was softened, and there was a humid gentleness in the +eyes not habitual to them. Her companion was a young man about +twenty-three years of age, dark, almost swarthy of hue, tanned by the +suns and storms of foreign seas and many lands, As he sat there in the +shade of the settle one caught a glance of black eyes and a gleam of +white teeth, but the easy, lounging attitude did not show to advantage +the splendid build of Gethin Owens. One of his large brown fists, +resting on the rough deal table, was covered with tattooed +hieroglyphics, an anchor, a mermaid, and a heart, of course! Anyone +conversant with the Welsh language would have divined at once, by the +long-drawn intonation of the first words in every remark, that the +subject of conversation was one of sad or tender interest. + +"Well, indeed," said Mrs. Parry, "the-r-e's missing you I'll be, +Gethin! We are coming from the same place, you see, and you are +knowing all about me, and I about you, and that I supp-o-s-e is making +me feel more like a mother to you than to the other lodgers." + +"Well, you _have_ been like a mother to me, mending my clothes and +watching me so sharp with the drink. Dei anwl! I don't think I ever +took a glass with a friend without you finding me out, and calling me +names. 'Drunken blackguard!' you called me one night, when as sure as +I'm here I had only had a bottle of gingerpop in Jim Jones's shop," and +he laughed boisterously. + +"Well, well," said Mrs. Parry, "if I wronged you then, be bound you +deserved the blame some other time, and 'twas for your own good I was +telling you, my boy. Indeed, I wish I was going home with you to the +old neighbourhood. The-r-e's glad they'll be to see you at Garthowen." + +"Well, I don't know how my father will receive me," said her companion +thoughtfully. "Ann and Will I am not afraid of, but the old man--he +was very angry with me." + +"What _did_ you do long ago to make him so angry, Gethin? I have heard +Tom Powell and Jim Bowen blaming him very much for being so hard to his +eldest son; they said he was always more fond of Will than you, and was +often beating you." + +"Halt!" said Gethin, bringing his fist down so heavily on the table +that the tea-things jingled, "not a word against the old man--the best +father that ever walked, and I was the worst boy on Garthowen slopes, +driving the chickens into the water, shooing the geese over the hedges, +riding the horses full pelt down the stony roads, setting fire to the +gorse bushes, mitching from school, and making the boys laugh in +chapel; no wonder the old man turned me away." + +"But all boys are naughty boys," said Mrs. Parry, "and that wasn't +enough reason for sending you from home, and shutting the door against +you." + +"No," said Gethin, "but I did more than that; I could not do a worse +thing than I did to displease the old man. I was fond of scribbling my +name everywhere. 'Gethin Owens' was on all the gateposts, and on the +saddles and bridles, and once I painted 'G. O.' with green paint on the +white mare's haunch. There was a squall when that was found out, but +it was nothing to the storm that burst upon me when I wrote something +in my mother's big Bible. As true as I am here, I don't remember what +I wrote, but I know it was something about the devil, and I signed it +'Gethin Owens,' and a big 'Amen' after it. Poor old man, he was +shocking angry, and he wouldn't listen to no excuse; so after a good +thrashing I went away, Ann ran after me with my little bundle, and the +tears streaming down her face, but I didn't cry--only when I came upon +little Morva Lloyd sitting on the hillside. She put her arms round my +neck and tried to keep me back, but I dragged myself away, and my tears +were falling like rain then, and all the way down to Abersethin as long +as I could hear Morva crying and calling out 'Gethin! Gethin!'" + +"There's glad she'll be to see you." + +"Well, I dunno. She was used to be very fond of me; she couldn't bear +Will because he was teazing her, but I was like a slave to her. 'I +want some shells to play,' sez she sometimes, and there I was off to +the shore, hunting about for shells for her. 'Take me a ride,' sez +she, and up on my shoulder I would hoist her, as happy as a king, with +her two little feet in my hands, and her little fat hands ketching +tight in my hair, and there's galloping over the slopes we were, me +snorting and prancing, and she laughing all the time like the swallows +when they are flying." + +They were interrupted by a clatter of heavy shoes and a chorus of +boisterous voices, as three sailors came in loudly calling for their +tea. + +"Hello, Gethin! not gone? Hast changed thy mind?" + +"Not a bit of it," said Gethin, pointing to his bag of clothes. "I +have been a long time making up my mind, but it's Garthowen and the +cows and the cawl for me this time and no mistake." + +"And Morva," said Jim Bowen, with a smile, in which lurked a suspicion +of a sneer. "Thee may say what thee likes about the old man, and the +cows, and the cawl, but I know thee, Gethin Owens! Ever since I told +thee what a fine lass Morva Lloyd has grown thee'st been hankering +after Garthowen slopes." + +There was a general laugh, in which Gethin joined good-humouredly, +standing and stretching himself with a yawn. The evening sun fell full +upon him, showing a form of sinewy strength, and a handsome manly face. +His dark skin and the small gold rings in his ears, so much affected by +Welsh sailors, gave him a foreign look, which rather added to the +attractiveness of his personal appearance. + +When the tea had been partaken of, with a running accompaniment of +broad jokes and loud laughter, the three sailors went out, leaving +Gethin still sitting on the settle. This was Mrs. Parry's hour of +peace--when her consumptive son came home from his loitering in the +sunshine to join her at her own quiet "cup of tea," while her rough +husband was still engaged amongst the shipping in the docks. + +"Well, what'll I say to Nani Graig?" said Gethin. + +"Oh, poor mother, my love, and tell her if it wasn't for my boy Tom I'd +soon be home with her again, for I'll never live with John Parry when +my boy is gone." + +"He's not going for many a long year," said Gethin, slapping the boy on +the back, his more sensitive nature shrinking from such plain speaking. + +But Tom was used to it, and smiled, shuffling uneasily under the slap. + +"What you got bulging out in your bag like that?" he asked. + +"Oh, presents for them at Garthowen; will I show them to you?" said the +sailor awkwardly, as he untied the mouth of the canvas bag. "Here's a +tie for my father, and a hymn-book for Ann, and here's a knife for +Will, and a pocket-book for Gwilym Morris, the preacher who is lodging +with them. And here," he said, opening a gaily-painted box, "is +something for little Morva," and he gently laid on the table a necklace +of iridescent shells which fell in three graduated rows. + +"Oh! there's pretty!" said Mrs. Parry, and while she held the shining +shells in the red of the sun, again the doorway was darkened by the +entrance of two noisy, gaudily-dressed girls, who came flouncing up to +the table. + +"Hello! Bella Lewis and Polly Jones, is it you? Where you come from +so early?" said Mrs. Parry. + +"Come to see me, of course!" suggested the sailor. + +"Come to see you and stop you going," said one of the girls. "Gethin +Owens, you _are_ more of a skulk than I took you for, though you are +rather shirky in your ways, if this is true what I hear about you." + +"What?" said Gethin, replacing the necklace in the box. + +"That you are going home for good, going to turn farmer and say +good-bye to the shipping and the docks." And as she spoke she laid her +hand on the box which Gethin was closing, and drew out its contents. +There was a greedy glitter in her bold eyes as she asked, "Who's that +for?" and she clasped it round her own neck, while Gethin's dark face +flushed. + +"Couldn't look better than there," he answered gallantly, "so you keep +it, to remember me," and tying up his canvas bag he bade them all a +hurried good-bye. + +Mrs. Parry followed him to the doorway with regretful farewells, for +she was losing a friend who had not only paid her well, but had been +kind to her delicate boy, and whose strong fist had often decided in +her favour a fight with her brutal husband. + +"There you now," she said, in a confidential whisper and with a nudge +on Gethin's canvas bag, "there you are now; fool that you are! giving +such a thing as that to Bella Lewis! What did you pay for it, Gethin? +Shall I have it if I can get it from her? Why did you give it to her? +you said 'twas for little Morva--" + +"Yes, it was," he said; "but d'ye think, woman, I would give it to +Morva after being on Bella Lewis's neck? No! that's why I am running +away in such a hurry, to buy her another, d'ye see, and Dei anwl, I +must make haste or else I'll be late on board. Good-bye, good-bye." + +Mrs. Parry looked after him almost tenderly, but called out once more: + +"Shall I have it if I can get it?" + +"Yes, yes," shouted Gethin in return, and as he made his way through +the grimy, unsavoury street, he chuckled as he pictured the impending +scrimmage. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"GARTHOWEN" + +Along the slope of a bare brown hill, which turned one scarped +precipitous side to the sea, and the other, more smooth and undulating, +towards a fair scene of inland beauty, straggled the little hamlet of +Pont-y-fro. Jos Hughes's shop was the very last house in the village, +the road beyond it merging into the rushy moor, and dwindling into a +stony track, down which a streamlet trickled from the peat bog above. +The house had stood in the same place for two hundred years, and Jos +Hughes looked as if he too had lived there for the same length of time. +His quaintly cut blue cloth coat adorned with large brass buttons, his +knee breeches of corduroy, and grey blue stockings, looking well in +keeping with his dwelling, but very out of place behind a counter. His +brown wrinkled face and ruddy cheeks were like a shrivelled apple, his +shrewd inquisitive eyes peered out through a pair of large brass-rimmed +spectacles, and, to judge by his expression, the view they got of the +world in general was not satisfactory. + +It was a day of brilliant sunshine and intense heat, but through the +open shop door the sea wind came in with refreshing coolness. Behind +the counter Jos Hughes measured and weighed lazily, throwing in with +his short weight a compliment, or a screw of peppermints, as the case +required. + +"Who is this coming up in the dust?" he mumbled. + +"'Tis Morva of the moor," said a woman standing in the doorway and +shading her eyes with her hand. "What does she want, I wonder? +There's a merry lass she is!" + +"Oh! day or night, sun or snow don't matter to her," said Jos Hughes. + +At this moment the subject of their remarks entered the shop, and, +sitting on a sack of maize, let her arms fall on her lap. She was +quickly followed by a large black sheep dog, who bounded in and, +placing his fore-paws on the counter, with tongue hanging out, looked +at Jos Hughes intently. + +"Down, Tudor!" said the girl, and he sprang on a sack of peas beside +her. + +The mountain wind blowing in through the open doorway touzled the +little curls that were so unruly in Morva's hair; it was neither gold +nor ebony, but, looking at its rich tints, one was irresistibly +reminded of the ripe corn in harvest fields, while the blue eyes were +like the corn flowers in their vivid colouring. + +"How are they at Garthowen?" asked Fani "bakkare." + +"Oh! they are all well there," answered the girl, panting and fanning +herself with her sun-bonnet, "except the white calf, and he is better." + +"There's hot it is!" said Fani, taking up her basket of groceries. + +"Oh! 'tis hot!" said the girl, "but there's a lovely wind from the sea." + +"What are you wanting to-day, Morva?" said Jos. + +"A ball of red worsted for Ann, and an ounce of 'bacco for 'n'wncwl +Ebben, and oh! a ha'porth of sweets for Tudor." + +The dog wagged his tail approvingly as Jos reached down from the shelf +a bottle of pink lollipops, for, though a wild country dog, he had +depraved tastes in the matter of sweets. + +"There's serious you all look! what's the matter with you?" said the +girl, looking smilingly round. + +"Nothing is the matter as I know," said Fani, "only there's always +plenty of trouble flying about. We can't be all so free from care as +you, always laughing or singing or something." + +"Indeed I wish we could," said Madlen, a pale girl who was bending over +a box of knitting pins, looking round curiously and rather sadly; "I +wish the whole world could be like you, Morva." + +Morva snatched the girl's listless hand in her own warm firm grasp, and +pressed it sympathetically, for she knew Madlen's secret sorrow. + +"Wait another year or two," said Fani, "we'll talk to you then! Wait +till your husband comes home drunk from 'The Black Horse!'" + +"And wait till you put all your money into a shop and then find it +doesn't pay you," said Jos. + +Madlen said nothing, but Morva knew that in her heart she was thinking, +"Wait until your lover proves false to you!" and she gave her hand +another squeeze. + +"Well, indeed!" she said springing up, "what are you all talking about? +I won't put all my money in a shop, and I won't marry a drunkard! +Sixpence, is it? I am going home over the bog and round the hill, but +I am going to sit on the bench outside a bit first. There's lots of +swallows' nests under your eaves, Jos Hughes; that brings good luck, +they say, so your shop ought to pay you well." + +So saying she passed out, and sitting on the bench round the corner of +the house she kissed her hand toward the swallows, who flitted in and +out of their nests, twittering ecstatically. + +"Hark to her," said Fani, "singing again, if you please--always +light-hearted! always happy! I don't think its quite right, Jos bach, +do you? You are a deacon at Penmorien and you ought to know. If it +was a hymn now! but you hear it's all nonsense about the swallows. Ach +y fi! she is learning them from Sara ''spridion';[1] some song of the +'old fathers' in past times!" + +"Yes," said Jos, sanctimoniously clasping his stubby fingers, "I'm +afraid the girl is a bit of a heathen. What wonder is it? Nursed by +Sara--always out with the cows or the sheep, and they say she thinks +nothing of sleeping under a hedge, or out on the slopes, if any animal +is sick and wants watching." + +Fani went out with a toss of her head, as the sweet voice came in +through the little side window with the twittering of the swallows and +the cluck, cluck of a happy brood hen. + +Outside, Morva had forgotten all about Jos Hughes and Fani "bakkare's" +sour looks, and was singing her heart out to the sunshine. + +"Sing on, little swallows," she said, "and I'll sing too. Sara taught +me the 'bird song' long ago when I was a baby." + +And in a clear, sweet voice she joined the birds, and woke the echoes +from the brown cliffs. The tune was quaint and rapid; both it and the +words had come down to her with the old folklore of generations passed +away. + + "Over the sea from the end of the wide world + I've come without wetting my feet, my feet, my feet, + Back to the old home, straight to the nest-home, + Under the brown thatch, oh sweet! oh sweet! oh sweet! + + "When over the waters I flew in the autumn, + Then there was plenty of seed, of seed, of seed. + Women have winnow'd it, threshers have garner'd it, + Barns must be filled up indeed, indeed, indeed! + + "Are you glad we have come with a flitter and twitter + Once more on the housetop to meet, to meet, to meet? + Make haste little primroses, cowslips, and daisies, we're + Longing your faces to greet, to greet, to greet!" + + --_Trans._ + + +"Yes, that's what you are singing. Good-bye," and waving her hand +towards them again, she turned her face to the boggy moor, picking her +way over the stepping-stones which led up to the dryer sheep paths. + +The golden marsh marigolds glittered around her, the beautiful bog bean +hung its pinky white fringe over the brown peat pools, the silky plumes +of the cotton grass nodded at her as she passed, and the wind whispered +in the rushes the secrets of the sea. + +Morva listened with a smile, a brown finger up-raised. "Yes, yes, I +know what you are singing too down there in the rushes, sweet west +wind," she said. "Sara has told me, but I haven't time to sing the +'wind song' to-day," and reaching the sheep path which led round the +mountain, she sped against the wind, her hair streaming behind her, her +blue skirt fluttering in the breeze, the ball of scarlet worsted and +the shining 'bacco box held high in either hand to steady her flying +footsteps, Tudor barking with joy as he bounded after her and twitched +at her fluttering skirts. + +It was tea-time when she reached Garthowen, and, winter or summer, that +was always the pleasantest hour at the farmstead, when the air was +filled with the aroma of the hot tea, and the laughter and talk of the +household. On the settle in the cosy chimney corner sat Ebben Owens +himself, the head of the family and the centre of interest to every +member of it. He possessed that doubtful advantage, the power of +attracting to himself the affection and friendship of everyone who came +in contact with him; his children idolised him, and Morva was no whit +behind them in her affection for him. In spite of his long grizzled +locks, and a slight stoop, he was still a hale and hearty yeoman under +his seventy years. His cheeks bore the ruddy hue of health, his eyes +were still bright and clear, the lines of his mouth expressed a gentle +and sensitive nature. It was by no means a strong face, but its very +weakness perhaps accounted for the protecting tenderness shown to him +by all his family. As he sat there in the shadow of the settle it was +easy to understand why his children were so devotedly attached to him, +and why he bore the reputation of being the kindest and most +good-natured man in Pont-y-fro and its neighbourhood. Ann, his only +daughter, was looking smilingly at him from the head of the table, her +smooth brown hair parted over her madonna-like brows, her brown eyes +full of laughter. Opposite to her, at the bottom of the table, sat +Gwilym Morris, preacher at the Calvinistic Methodist chapel, down in +the valley by the shore. He had lived at Garthowen for many years as +one of the family, being the son of an old friend of Ebben Owens. +Having a small--very small--income of his own, he was able to devote +his services to the chapel in the valley, expecting and receiving +nothing in return but a pittance, for which no other minister would +have been willing to work. He was a dark, pale man, of earnest and +studious appearance, of quiet manners, and rather silent, but often +seeking the liquid brown eyes which lighted up Ann's gentle face. + +"Tis the only time father is cross when he has lost his 'bacco box," +said Ann, laughing; "but then he is as cross as two sticks." + +"Lol! lol!" said the old man snappishly, "give me a cup of tea; but I +can't think where my 'bacco box is. I swear I left it here on the +table." + +Gwilym Morris hunted about in the most unlikely places, as men +generally do--on the tea tray, between the leaves of some newspapers +which stood on the deep window-sill. He was about to open Ann's +work-bag in search of it, when Morva entered panting, and placed the +shining box and ball of red wool on the table. + +"Good, my daughter," said Ebben Owens, pocketing his new-found +treasure, and regaining his good temper at once. + +"I saw it was empty, so I took it with me to Jos Hughes's shop," she +said. + +Soon afterwards, seated on her milking stool, she was singing to the +rhythm of the milk as it streamed into the frothing pail, for Daisy +refused to yield her milk without a musical accompaniment. Very soft +and low was the girl's singing, but clear and sweet as that of the +thrush on the thorn bush behind her. + + "Give me my little milking pail, + For under the hawthorn in the vale + The cows are gathering one by one, + They know the time by the westering sun. + Troodi, Troodi! come down from the mountain, + Troodi, Troodi! come up from the dale; + Moelen, and Corwen, and Blodwen, and Trodwen! + I'll meet you all with my milking pail." + + +So sang the girl, and the lilting tune caught the ears of a youth who +was just entering the farmyard. He knew it at once. It was a snatch +of Morva's simple milking song. He stopped to pat Daisy's broad +forehead, and Morva looked up with a smile. + +"Make haste," she said, "or tea will be finished. Where have you been +so late?" + +"Thou'll be surprised when I tell thee," said the young man; but before +he had time for further conversation, Ann's voice called him from the +kitchen window, and he hurried away unceremoniously. + +Morva continued her song, for Daisy wanted nothing new, but was +contented with the old stave which she had known from calfhood. + +Will Owens, arriving in the farm kitchen, had evidently been eagerly +awaited. Both Ann and Gwilym Morris came forward to meet him, and +Ebben Owens rubbed his hands nervously over his corduroy knees. + +"Well?" said all three together. + +"Well!" echoed Will, flinging his hat across to the window-sill. "It's +all right. I met Price the vicar coming down the street, so I touched +my hat to him, and he saw at once that I wanted to speak to him, and +there's kind he was. 'How's your father?' he said, 'and Miss Ann, is +she well? I must come up and see them soon.'" + +"Look you there now," said his father. + +"'They will be very glad to see you sir,' I said, but I didn't know how +to tell him what I wanted. + +"'I am very glad to hear how well you get on with your books,' he said; +'but 'tisn't every young man has Gwilym Morris to help him and to teach +him.' And then, you see, when he made a beginning, 'twas easier for me +to explain." + +The preacher's pale face lighted up with a smile of pleasure, and Ann +flushed with gratified pride as Will continued. + +"'He is a man in a hundred,' said Mr. Price, 'and 'tis a pity that his +talents are wasted on a Methodist Chapel. I wish I could persuade him +to enter the Church.' + +"'Well, you'll never do that,' I said. 'You might as well try to turn +the course of the On. He won't come himself, but he is sending a very +poor substitute to you, sir.' + +"'And who is that? You?' said Mr. Price. + +"'Well, sir, that is what I wanted to see you about. You know that +although we are Methodists bred and born, both my grandfather and my +great-grandfather had a son in the Church,' and with that he took hold +of my two hands. + +"'And your father is going to follow their good example? I _am_ glad!' +and he shook my hands so warmly." + +"There for you now!" said Ebben Owens. + +"'I will do all I can for you,' Mr. Price said, 'and I'm sure your +uncle will help you.' + +"'Oh!' said I, 'if my father will send me to the Church, sir, it will +be without pressing upon anyone else for money,' for I wasn't going to +let him think we couldn't afford it." + +"Right, my boy," said Ebben Owens, standing up in his excitement; "and +what then?" + +"Oh! then he asked me when did I think of entering college; and I said, +'Next term, sir, if I can pass.' + +"'No fear of that,' he said again, 'with Gwilym Morris at your elbow.' +But I'm choking, Ann; give me a cup of tea, da chi.[2] I'll finish +afterwards." + +"That's all, I should think," said the preacher; "you've got on pretty +far for a first interview." + +"I got a little further, though," said Will. "What do you think, +father, he has asked me to do?" + +"What?" said the old man breathlessly. + +"He asked would I read the lessons in church next Sunday week. +''Twould be a good beginning,' he said; 'and tell your father and Miss +Ann they must come and hear you.' + +"'Well,' I said, 'my father hasn't been inside a church for years, and +I don't know whether he will come.'" + +"Well, of course," said the old man eagerly, "I will come to hear you, +my boy, and Ann--" + +"Not I, indeed," said Ann, with a toss of her head, "there will be a +sermon in my own chapel." + +"But it will be over before eleven, Ann, and I don't see why you +shouldn't go if you wish to," said Gwilym Morris. + +"I don't wish to," she answered, turning to the tea-table, and pouring +out her brother's tea. + +She was a typical Welsh woman, of highly-strung nervous temperament, +though placid in outward appearance and manners, unselfish even to +self-effacement where her kindred were concerned, but wary and +suspicious beyond the pale of relationship or love; a zealous +religionist, but narrow and bigoted in the extreme. In his heart of +hearts Ebben Owens also hated the Church. Dissent had been the +atmosphere in which his ancestors had lived and breathed, but in his +case pride had struggled with prejudice, and had conquered. For three +generations a son had gone forth from Garthowen to the enemy's Church, +and had won there distinction and riches. True, their career had +withdrawn them entirely from the old simple home circle, but this did +not deter Ebben Owens from desiring strongly to emulate his ancestors. +Why should not Will, the clever one of the family, his favourite +son--who had "topped" all the boys at the village school, and had taken +so many prizes in the grammar school at Caer-Madoc--why should not he +gain distinction and preferment in the Church, and shed fresh lustre on +the fading name of "Owens of Garthowen," for the name had lost its +ancient prestige in the countryside? In early time theirs had been a +family of importance, as witness the old deeds in the tin box on the +attic rafters, but for two hundred years they had been simple farmers. +They had never been a thrifty race, and the broad lands which tradition +said once belonged to them had been sold from time to time, until +nothing remained but the old farm with its hundred acres of mountain +land. Ebben Owens never troubled his head, however, about the past +glories of his race. He inherited the "happy-go-lucky," +unbusiness-like temperament which had probably been the cause of his +ancestors' misfortunes, but Will's evident love of learning had aroused +in the old man a strong wish to remind the world that the "Owens of +Garthowen" still lived, and could push themselves to the front if they +wished. + +As Will drank his tea and cleared plate after plate of bread and +butter, his father looked at him with a tender, admiring gaze. Will +had always been his favourite. Gethin, the eldest son, had never taken +hold of his affections; he had been the mother's favourite, and after +her death had drifted further and further out of his father's good +graces. The boy's nature was a complete contrast to that of his own +and second son, for Gethin was bold and daring, while they were wary +and secret; he was restless and mischievous, while his brother was +quiet and sedate; he was constantly getting into scrapes, while Will +always managed to steer clear of censure. Gethin hated his books too, +and, worse than all, he paid but scant regard to the services in the +chapel, which held such an important place in the estimation of the +rest of the household. More than once Ebben Owens, walking with proper +decorum to chapel on Sunday morning, accompanied by Will and Ann, had +been scandalised at meeting Gethin returning from a surreptitious +scramble on the hillside, with a row of blue eggs strung on a stalk of +grass. A hasty rush into the house to dress, a pell-mell run down the +mountain side, a flurried arrival in the chapel, where Will and his +father had already hung up their hats on the rail at the back of their +seat, did not tend to mitigate the old man's annoyance at his son's +erratic ways. + +Gethin was the cause of continual disturbances in the household, +culminating at last in a severer thrashing than usual, and a dismissal +from the home of his childhood--a dismissal spoken in anger, which +would have been repented of ere night had not the boy, exasperated at +his utter inability to rule his wild and roving habits, taken his +father at his word and disappeared from the old homestead. + +"Let him go," Ebben Owens had said to the tearful pleading Ann. "Let +him go, child; it will do him good if he can't behave himself at home. +Let him go, like many another rascal, and find out whether cold and +hunger and starvation will suit him. Let him feel a pinch or two, and +he'll soon come home again, and then perhaps he'll have come to his +senses and give us less trouble here." + +Ann had cried her eyes red for days, and Will had silently grieved over +the loss of his brother, but he had been prudent, and had said nothing +to increase his father's anger, so the days slipped by and Gethin never +returned. + +His father, relenting somewhat (for he seldom remained long in the same +frame of mind), made inquiries of the sea-faring men who visited the +neighbouring coast villages, and learning from them that Gethin had +been taken as cabin boy by an old friend of his, whom he knew to be of +a kindly disposition, felt quite satisfied concerning his son's safety, +and congratulated himself upon the result of his own firmness. + +"There's the very thing for him," he thought; "'twill make a man of +him, and 'tis time he should be brought to his senses! and he won't be +so ready with his 'Amens!' again. Ach y fi!" + +From time to time as the years sped on, news of Gethin came in a +roundabout way to the farm, and at last a letter from some foreign +port, from which it was evident that the youth, now growing up to +manhood, still retained his bright sunny nature and laughter-loving +ways, together with the warmth of heart which had always distinguished +the troublesome Gethin. There was no allusion to the past, no begging +for forgiveness, no hint of a wish to return home. His father seldom +looked at the lad's letters, but flung them to Will to be read, the +quarrel between him and his son, instead of dwindling into +forgetfulness, seeming to grow and widen in his mind with each +succeeding year, as trifling disagreements frequently do in weak but +obstinate natures. + +"Gethin will be an honour to us yet," Ann would say sometimes. + +"Honour indeed!" the old man would answer, with a red spot on each +cheek, which always denoted his rising anger. "What honour? A common +sailor lounging about from one foreign port to another! 'Tis stopping +at home he ought to be, and helping his old father with the farming. +If Will is going to be a clergyman I will want somebody to help me with +the work." + +"Well, I'm sure he would come, father, and glad too, if he knew that +you were wanting him." + +"Oh, I don't want him. Let him come when he likes; that's fair enough." + +But Gethin still roamed, and latterly nothing had been heard of him, no +letters and no news. 'Tis true, a dim and hazy report had reached +Garthowen from some sailor in the village "that Gethin Owens was +getting on 'splendid,' that he was steady and saving." Ann had flushed +with pleasure, but the old man had laughed scornfully, saying, "Well, +I'll believe that when I see it--Gethin steady and saving!" And even +Will had joined in the laugh, but Gwilym Morris looked vexed and +serious. + +"I think, indeed, you are too hard upon that poor fellow,", he said; +"he may return to you some day like the prodigal son. Don't forget +that, Ebben Owens--" + +"Oh, I don't forget that," said the old man; "and when he comes home in +the same temper as the son we read of, then we'll kill for him the +fatted calf." + +"Well, I'd like to know what did he do whatever?" said a girlish voice +from behind the settle, where Morva Lloyd (who was shepherdess, +cowherd, milkmaid, all in one), was drying her hands on a jack-towel; +"what did Gethin do so very bad?" + +"Look in his mother's Bible," said the old man, "and you'll see his +last sin." + +"I've put it away," said Ann. "Twas too wicked to leave about; but he +was very young, father, and Gwilym says--" + +"Oh! Gwilym," said her father, "has an excuse for everyone's faults +except his own; for thine especially." + +There was a general laugh, during which Morva made up her mind to hunt +up the old Bible. + +"I hope," said Ann, addressing Will, when he had come to an end of his +tea, "you told Price the vicar that Gwilym did not spend evening after +evening here helping you on with your studies, _knowing_ that you were +going to be a clergyman?" + +"No, I didn't tell him that, but I can tell him some other time," +answered Will, who would have promised anything in his desire to +propitiate Ann and his father, and to gain their consent to his +entering Llaniago College at the beginning of the next term. + +"I'll tell him if he comes here," said Ann. "I wouldn't have him think +that Gwilym Morris, the Methodist minister, spent his time in teaching +a parson." + +"Well," said the preacher, who was standing at the old glass bookcase +looking for a book, "you certainly did spring the news very suddenly +upon me, Will; you kept your secret very close; but still, Ann, it +makes no difference. I would have done anything for your brother, and +I'm glad, whatever his course may be, that I have been able to impart +to him a little knowledge." + +"Look you here now," said the old man, shuffling uneasily, for there +was a secret consciousness between him and his son that they had +wilfully kept Gwilym Morris in the dark as long as possible, fearing +lest his dissenting principles might prevent the accomplishment of +their wishes, "look you here now, Will, October is very near, and it +means money, my boy, and that's not gathered so easy as blackberries +about here; you must wait until Christmas, and you shall go to Llaniago +in the New Year, but I can't afford it now." + +Will's handsome face flushed to the roots of his hair, his blue eyes +sparkled with anger, and the clear-cut mouth took a petulant curve as +he answered, rising hastily from the tea-table: + +"Why didn't you tell me that sooner, instead of letting me go and speak +to Mr. Price? You have made a fool of me!" And he went out, banging +the door after him. + +There was a moment's silence. + +"Will's temper is not improving," said Ann at last. + +"Poor boy," said the indulgent father, "'tis disappointed he is; but it +won't be long to wait till January." + +"But, father," said Ann, "there is the 80 pounds you got for the two +ricks? You put that into the bank safe, didn't you?" + +"Yes, yes, yes, quite safe, 'merch i. Don't you bother your head about +things that don't concern you," and he too went out, leaving Ann +drumming with her fingers on the tea-tray. + +Her father's manner awoke some uneasiness in her mind, for long +experience had taught her that money had a way of slipping through his +hands ere ever it reached the wants of the household. + +"I went with him to the bank," said Gwilym Morris reassuringly, "and +saw him put it in," and Ann was satisfied. + +Under her skilful management, in spite of their dwindled means, +Garthowen was always a home of plenty. The produce of the farm was +exchanged at the village shops for the simple necessaries of domestic +life. The sheep on their own pasture lands yielded wool in abundance +for their home-spun clothing, the flitches of bacon that garnished the +rafters provided ample flavouring for the cawl, and for the rest Will +and Gwilym's fishing and shooting brought in sufficient variety for the +simple tastes of the family. Indeed, there was only one thing that was +not abundant at Garthowen, and that was--ready money! + + + +[1] Spirit Sara. + +[2] Do. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MORVA OF THE MOOR + +When Will had reached the door of the farm kitchen in a fume of hot +temper, the cool sea breeze coming up the valley had bathed his flushed +face with so soothing an influence that he had turned towards it and +wandered away to the cliffs which made the seaward boundary of the +farm. A craggy hill on the opposite side of the valley cast its +lengthening shadow on his path until he reached the Cribserth, a ridge +of rocks which ran down the mountain side on the Garthowen land. It +rose abruptly from the mountain pasturage, as though some monster of +the early world were struggling to rise once more from its burial of +ages, succeeding only in erecting its rugged spine and crest through +the green sward. This ridge marked a curious division of the country, +for on one side of it lay all the signs of cultivation of which this +wind-swept parish could boast. Here were villages, fertile fields, and +wooded valleys; but beyond the rugged escarpment all was different. +For miles the seaward side of the hills was wild and bare, except for +the soft velvet turf, interspersed with gorse and heather, which +stretched up the steep slopes, covering and softening every rough +outline. Even Will, as he rounded the ridge, recovered his equanimity, +and his face lighted up with pleasure at the sight which met his view. +Down below glistened a sea of burnished gold, with tints and shades of +purple grey; above stretched a sky of still more glowing colours; and +landward, rising to the blue of the zenith, the rugged moorland was +covered with a mantle of heath and gorse, which shone in the evening +sun in a rich mingling of gold and purple. + +"What a glorious evening!" were Will's first thoughts. The birds sang +around him, the sea lisped its soft whispers on the sea below, the song +of a fisherman out on the bay came up on the breeze, the rabbits +scudded across his path, and the seagulls floated slowly above him. +All the sullenness went out of his face, giving way to a look of +pleased surprise, as out of the carpet of gorgeous colouring spread +before him rose suddenly the vision of a girl. It was Morva who came +towards him, her hair glistening in the sunshine, her blue eyes dancing +with the light of health and happiness. Behind a rising knoll stood +her foster-mother's cottage, almost hidden by the surrounding gorse and +heather, for, according to the old Welsh custom, it had been built in a +hollow scooped out behind a natural elevation, which protected it from +the strong sea wind; in fact, there was little of it visible except its +red chimney-pot, from which generally curled the blue smoke of the +furze and dried ferns burning on the bare earthen floor below. + +Turning round the pathway to the front of the house, one came upon its +whitewashed walls, the low worm-eaten door deep set in its crooked +lintels, and its two tiny windows, looking out on the sunny garden, +every inch of which was neatly and carefully cultivated by Morva's own +hands; for she would not allow her "little mother" to tire herself with +hard work in house or garden. To her foster-child it was a labour of +love. In the early morning hours before milking time at the farm, or +in the grey of the twilight, Morva was free to work in her own garden, +while Sara only tended her herb bed. There at the further end was the +potato bed in purple flower, here were rows of broad beans, in which +the bees were humming, attracted by their sweet aroma that filled the +evening air; there was the leek bed waving its grey green blades, and +here, in the sunniest corner of all, was Sara's herb bed, which she +tended with special care, whose products were gathered at stated times +of the moon's age, not without serious thought and many consultations +of an old herbal, brown with age, which always rested with her Bible +and Williams "Pantycelyn's" hymns above the lintel of the door. For +nearly seventeen years this had been Morva's home, ever since the +memorable night of wind and storm which had wrecked the good ship +_Penelope_ on her voyage home from Australia. She had reached Milford +safely a week before, after a prosperous voyage, and having landed some +of her passengers, was making her further way towards Liverpool, her +final destination. It was late autumn, and suddenly a storm arose +which drove her out of her course, until on the Cardiganshire coast she +had become a total wreck. In the darkness and storm, where the foaming +waves leapt up to the black sky, the wild wind had battered her, and +the cruel waves had torn her asunder, and engulphed her in their +relentless depths; and when all was over, a few bubbles on the face of +the water, a few planks tossed about by the waves, were all the signs +left of the _Penelope_. The cottagers on the rugged coast never forgot +that stormy night, when the roofs were uplifted from the houses, when +gates were wrenched from their hinges, when the shrieking wind had torn +the frightened sheep from their fold, and carried them over hedges and +hillocks. There had never been such a storm in the memory of the +oldest inhabitant, and when in the foam and the spray, Stiven "Storrom" +had raked out from the debris washed on to the shore a hencoop, on +which was bound a tiny baby, sodden and cold, but still alive, every +one of the small crowd gathered on the beach below Garthowen slopes, +considered he had added a fresh claim to his name--a name which he had +gained by his frequent raids upon the fierce storms, and the harvest +which he had gathered from their fury. That baby had found open arms +and tender hearts ready to succour it, and when Sara "'spridion" had +stretched imploring hands towards it, reminding the onlookers of her +recent bereavement, it was handed over to her fostering care. "Give it +to me," she said, "my heart is empty; it will not fill up the void, but +it will help me to bear it. There are other reasons," she added, "good +reasons." She had carried it home triumphantly, and little Morva had +never after missed a mother's love and tenderness. The seventeen years +that followed had glided happily over her head; in fact she was so +perfect an embodiment of health and happiness, that she sometimes +excited the envy of the somewhat sombre dwellers on those lonely +hillsides; and when in the golden sunset, she suddenly rose from the +gorse bloom to greet Will's sight, she had never appeared brighter or +more brimful of joy. + +"Well, indeed," said Will, casting a furtive glance behind him, to make +sure that no one from Garthowen was following in his footsteps, "Morva, +lass, where hast come from? I will begin to think thou art one of the +spirits thy mother says she sees. I thought thee wast busy in the +dairy at home!" + +Morva laughed merrily. + +"I had some milk to bring home, and Ann sent me early to help mother a +bit. I was going now to gather dry furze and bracken to boil the +porridge. Will you come and have supper with us, Will?" + +"I have just had my tea," he said, "and a supper of bitter herbs into +the bargain, for my father angered me by something he said. He is +changeable as the wind, and I was roaming over here to seek for +calmness from the sea wind, and perhaps a talk with Sara." + +"Yes, come! She is in the herb garden gathering her bear's claws and +rue; 'tis the proper time for them. But first we must cut the bracken." + +Will took her sickle and soon cut a pile of the dry brittle fuel, +binding it with a rope which she carried; and turning towards the +cottage, they dragged it behind them. + +"You go and seek mother," said Morva, "while I go and boil the +porridge." + +And in the garden Will found Sara stooping over her herb bed, and +deeply intent upon her task. + +The sun was setting now, and threw its ruddy beams upon the sunny +corner, and upon the aged face and figure of the old woman. + +"Well, 'machgen i," she said, straightening herself. "What is it?" + +"Oh, nothing," said Will; "only, roaming about the moor, I came in to +see you, and Morva has asked me to have supper with you--you are +gathering your herbs?" + +"Yes, 'tis time to dry them and hang them up under the rafters; if they +will save one human being from pain 'twill be a good thing. Last night +Mari Lewis came to ask me for something for her boy; I gave it to her, +but she never came to tell me whether it had done him any good," and +she smiled as she led the way back to the cottage carrying her bunches +of herbs. + +"Was it Dan?" asked Will. + +"Yes." + +"Then he is well, for I saw him ploughing this evening." + +"That's better than thanks," said the old woman, entering the dark +cottage, where Morva was stirring a crock which hung on a chain from +the open chimney, the furze and bracken flaming and crackling beneath +it and lighting up her beautiful face. Once in the cottage, Sara sat +down on the old oak settle and waited for her supper, her herbs lying +in a green heap on the floor beside her. The square of scarlet +flannel, which she always wore pinned on her shoulders, made a bit of +bright colour in the gloom, her wrinkled hands were clasped on her lap, +and a far-away look came into her wonderful dark eyes. + +Morva looked up from her work. + +"Are you seeing anything, mother?" + +"No, no, child, nothing. Make haste with the supper," said Sara. + +And when Morva had divided the porridge in the three shining black +bowls, they drew round the bare oak table, on which the red of the +setting sun made a flickering pattern of the mallow bush growing on the +garden hedge. They talked about the farm work, the fishing, the lime +burning, the fate of the _Lapwing_, which had sailed in the autumn and +had never returned, until, when supper was over, Will rose to go with a +stretch and a yawn. + +"Ann wants me to give the white calf his medicine to-night, mother," +said Morva. + +"Wilt come with me now?" said Will, "for I am going." + +"Yes, go," said the old woman, "go together." + +But as the two young people went out under the low doorway she looked +after them pensively, and remained long looking up at the evening sky, +which the open door revealed. At last she tied up her herbs and began +washing her bowls, and while engaged at her work she sang. Her voice +had the pathetic tremble of old age, but was still true and musical, +for she had once been a singer among singers, and the song that she +sang--who shall describe it? from what old stores of memory did it come +to light? from what old wells of ancient folklore and tradition did it +spring? But Sara was full of songs and hymns--of the simplest and +oldest--of the rocky path--of the golden summit--of the angelic +host--of the cloud of witnesses--but of the more modern hymns of church +festivals or chapel revivals, of creeds and shibboleths, she knew +nothing! + +Outside on the heath and gorse Will and Morva made their way along the +narrow sheep paths, until, reaching the green sward where two could +walk abreast, he drew nearer, and passing his arm round her shoulders, +turned her gently towards the side of the cliff, where jutting crags +and stunted thorns made "sheltered nooks for lovers' seats." + +"Come, sit down here, Morva," he said; "all day I have wanted to talk +to thee. Dost know what kept me so long at Castell On to-day? Dost +know what grand thing is opening out before me? Dost know, lass, the +time is coming when I will be able to put rings on thy fingers, and +silken scarves on thy shoulders, and pretty shoes on thy little feet?" + +Morva's lips parted, disclosing two rows of pearly teeth, as she stared +in astonishment at her companion. + +"Oh, Will, lad, what is the matter with thee? Hast lost thy senses? +We mustn't be long or Ann will be waiting." + +"Oh, Ann!" said Will pettishly, "let her wait; listen thou. I am going +to finish with them all before long; I am not going to plod on here on +the farm any longer; I am going to college, lass; I am going to pass my +examination and be a clergyman, like Mr. Price, or like that young +curate who was stopping with him a month ago. Didst see him, Morva? +Such a gentleman! dressed so grand, and went from town in the Nantmyny +carriage." + +Morva was still speechless. + +"Oh, anwl! what art talking about, Will?" she said at last. + +"Truth, Morva; I will be like that young man before long, and when I +have a home ready I will send for thee; thou shalt come secretly to +meet me in some large town where no one will know us. I will have a +silken gown ready for thee, and we will be married, and thou shalt be a +real lady." + +Morva's only answer was a peal of laughter, which reached over moor and +crag and down to the sandy beach below. + +"Oh, Will, Will!" she gasped, with her hand on her side, "now indeed +thy senses are roaming. Morva Lloyd in velvet shoes and silken gowns, +and Will Owens with flapping coat tails like Mr. Price, and one of +those ugly shining hats that the gentlemen wear! Oh, Will, Will! +there's funny indeed!" and she laughed again until she woke the echoes +from the cliffs. + +"Hush-sh-sh!" said Will, a good deal nettled, "or laugh at thyself if +thou wilt, but not at me, for I tell thee that's how thou'lt see me +very soon." + +"Well, indeed, then," said the girl, "when thou tak'st that path thou +must say 'good-bye' to Morva Lloyd, for such things will never suit +her." + +"I tell thee, girl," said Will, taking both her hands in his, "thou +must come with me. I will follow that path--I feel I must, and I feel +it will lead to riches and honour, but I feel, too, that I can never +live without thee; thou must come with me, Morva. What is in the +future for me must be for thee too! dost hear?" + +"Yes, I hear," said the girl, with a gasp. + +"Dost remember thy promise, Morva? When we were children together, and +sat here watching the stars, didn't I hold thy little finger and point +it up to the North Star and make thee promise to marry me? And if thou +art going to change thy mind, 'twill break my heart," and his mouth +took a sad, pathetic curve. + +"But I am not going to change. I remember the star which I pointed to +when I promised to marry thee. 'Twill be up there by and by when the +light is gone, for it is always there, though the others move about." + +"Yes, 'tis the North Star, and the English have a saying, 'As true as +the North Star'--that's what thou must be to me, Morva." + +"Yes, indeed. The English are very wise people. But after all, Will, +I must laugh when I think of a clergyman marrying a shepherdess. Oh! +Will, Will!" added the girl more seriously and in a deprecating tone, +"thou art talking nonsense. Think it over for a day or two, and then +we'll talk about it. I cannot stay longer--Ann will be angry." + +And slipping out of his grasp, she ran with light footsteps over the +soft turf, Will looking after her bewildered and troubled, until she +disappeared round the edge of the ridge; then he rose slowly, picked up +his book, and followed her with slow steps and an anxious look on his +handsome face. He was tall and well grown, like every member of the +Garthowen family; his reddish-brown hair so thick above his forehead +that his small cap of country frieze was scarcely required as a +covering for his head; and not even the coarse material of his homespun +suit, or his thick country-made shoes, could hide a certain air of +jaunty distinction, which was a subject of derision amongst the young +lads of his acquaintance, but of which he himself was secretly proud. +From boyhood he had despised the commonplace ways of his rustic home, +and had always aimed at becoming what he called "a gentleman." No +wonder, then, that with his foot, as he thought, on the first rung of +the ladder, he was pensive and serious as he followed Morva homewards. + +Ebben Owens, when he had risen from the tea table, had followed his son +into the farmyard, but finding no trace of him there, his face had +taken a troubled and anxious expression, for Will was the idol of his +soul, the apple of his eye, and a ruffle upon that young man's brow +meant a furrow on the old man's heart. He reproached himself for +having allowed "the boy" to proceed too far with his plans for entering +college before he had suggested that there might be a difficulty in +finding the required funds. After a long reverie, he muttered as he +went to the cowsheds: + +"Well, well, I must manage it somehow. I must ask Davy my brother, to +lend me the money until I have sold those yearlings." + +Not having the moral courage to open his mind to his son, he allowed +the subject to drift on in the dilatory fashion characteristic of his +nation; and as time went on, he began to allude to the coming glories +of Llaniago in a manner which soothed Will's irritation, and made him +think that the old man, on reconsideration, was as usual becoming +reconciled to his son's plans. As a matter of fact, Ebben Owens was +endeavouring to adjust his ideas to those of his son, solving the +difficulties which perplexed him by mentally referring to "Davy my +brother," or "those yearlings." + +Will also took refuge, as a final resource, in the thought of his rich +uncle, the Rev. Dr. Owen, of Llanisderi, who, through marriage with a +wealthy widow, had in a wonderfully short time gained for himself +preferment, riches, and popularity. + +"I will stoop to ask Uncle Davy to help me," he thought, "rather than +put it off;" but he kept his thoughts to himself, hoping still that his +father would relent, for he considered the want of funds was probably a +mere excuse for keeping him longer at home. + +It had been very easy, one day a month earlier, when, sitting in the +barn together, they had talked the matter over, for Ebben Owens to make +any number of plans and promises, for he had just sold two large ricks +of hay, and had placed the price thereof in the bank. He was, +therefore, in a calm and contented frame of mind, and in the humour to +be reckless in the matter of promises. The whole country side knew how +good-natured he was, how ready to help a friend, very often to his own +detriment and that of his family; he was consequently very popular at +fair and market. Everybody brought his troubles to him, especially +money troubles; and although Ebben Owens might at first refuse +assistance, he would generally end by opening his heart and his +pockets, and lending the sum required, sometimes on good security, +sometimes on bad, sometimes on none at all but his creditors' word of +honour, whose value, alas! was apt to rise or fall with the tide of +circumstances. He had many times given his own word of honour to his +anxious daughter, that he would never again lend his money or "go +security" for his neighbours without consulting his family; but over +the first blue of beer, at the first fair or market, he had been unable +to withstand the pleadings of some impecunious friend. Only a week +after he and Will had talked over their plans in the barn, Jos Hughes, +who was his fellow-deacon at Penmorien Chapel, had met him in the +market at Castell On, and had persuaded him to lend him the exact +amount which his ricks had brought him, with many promises of speedy +repayment. + + +"Tis those hard-hearted Saeson,[1] Mr. Owens bach! They will never +listen to reason, you know," he had argued, "and they are pressing upon +me shocking for payment for the goods I had from them last year; and me +such a good customer, too! I must pay them this week, Mr. Owens bach, +and you are always so kind, and there is no one else in the parish got +so much money as Garthowen. I will give you good security, and will +pay you week after next, as sure as the sun is shining!" + +It was a plausible tale, and Ebben Owens, as usual, was weak and +yielding. He liked to be considered the "rich man" of the parish, and +to be called "Mr. Owens," so Jos went home with the money in his +pocket, giving in return only his "I. O. U.," and a promise that the +transaction should be carefully kept from Ann's ears, for Ebben Owens +was more afraid of his daughter's gentle reproofs than he had ever been +of his wife's sharp tongue. + + + +[1] English. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE OLD BIBLE + +On the following Sunday, Morva kept house alone at Garthowen, for +everyone else had gone to chapel, except Will, who had walked to +Castell On, which was three miles away up the valley of the On, he +having been of late a frequent attendant at Mr. Price's church. The +vicar was much beloved by all his parishioners, beloved and respected +by high and low, but still his congregation was sparse and uncertain, +so that every new member was quickly noticed and welcomed by him--more +especially any stray sheep from the dissenting fold possessed for him +all the interest of the sheep in the parable, for whose sake the ninety +and nine were left in the wilderness. Will had gone off with a large +prayer book under his arm, determined to take special note of the +Vicar's manner in reading the lessons, for on the following Sunday this +important duty would devolve upon him. + +No one who has not spent a Sunday afternoon in a Methodist household +can really have sounded the depths of dullness; the interminable hours +between the early dinner and the welcome moment when the singing kettle +and the jingling of the tea-things break up the spell of dreariness, +the solemn silence pervading everything, broken only by the persistent +ticking of the old clock on the stairs, Morva had noted them all rather +wearily. Even the fowls in the farmyard seemed to walk about with a +more sober demeanour than usual, but more trying than anything else to +an active girl was the fact that _there was nothing to do_. + +It was a hot blazing summer afternoon; she had paid frequent visits to +the sick calf, which was getting well and mischievous again, and +inclined to butt at Tudor, so even that small excitement was over, and +the girl came sauntering back under the shady elder tree which spread +its branches over the doorway of the back kitchen. She crossed to the +window, and leaning her arms on the deep sill looked out over the yard, +and the fields beyond, to the sea, whose every aspect she knew so well. +Not a boat or sail broke its silvery surface, even there the spell of +Sabbath stillness seemed to reign. She thought of the chapel with its +gallery thronged with smiling lads and lasses; she thought of Will +sitting bolt upright at church. Yes; decidedly the dullness was +depressing; but suddenly a brightening thought struck her. Why should +she not hunt up the old Bible which Ann said was too bad to leave +about? What could Gethin have written in it that was so wicked? She +remembered him only as her friend and companion, and her willing slave. +She was only a child when he left, but she had not forgotten the burst +of bitter wailing which she sent after him as he picked up his bundle +and tore himself away from her clinging arms, and how she had cried +herself to sleep that night by Sara's side, who had tried to pacify her +with promises of his speedy return. But he had never come, and his +absence seemed only to have left in his father's memory a sense of +injury, as though he himself had not been the cause of his boy's +banishment. Even Ann and Will, who had at first mourned for him, and +longed for his return, appeared to have forgotten him, or only to +regard his memory as a kind of sorrowful dream. Why, she knew not, but +the thought of him on this quiet Sunday afternoon filled her with +tender recollections. She opened every dusty book in the glass +bookcase, but in vain. Here was Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress"; and +here a worm-eaten, brown stained book of sermons; here were Williams of +"Pantycelyn's" Hymns and his "Theomemphis," with Bibles old and new, +but _not_ the one which she sought. Mounting a chair, and from thence +the table, she at last drew out from under a glass shade, covering a +group of stuffed birds, a dust-begrimed book, with a brass clasp and +nails at the corners. Dusting it carefully she laid it on the table +before her, and proceeded to decipher its faded inscriptions. Yes--no +doubt this was the book for which she had sought, and with a brown +finger following the words, she read aloud: + + "ANN OWENS, HER BOOK, + GARTHOWEN." + +Beneath this was written in a boyish hand the well-known doggerel lines: + + "This book is hers, I do declare, + Then steal it not or else beware! + For on the dreadful Judgment Day + You may depend the Lord will say, + 'Where is that book you stole away?'" + + +It was written in English, and Morva, though she could make herself +understood in that language, was not learned enough to read it easily. +However, there was no difficulty in reading the signature of "William +Owens" which followed. She turned over a leaf, and here indeed were +signs of Gethin, for all over the title page was scrawled with many +flourishes "Gethin Owens, Garthowen," "Gethin Owens," "G. O.," +"Gethin," etc. It was wrong, no doubt, to deface the first page of the +Bible in this way, but Ann had said "too wicked to leave about!" so +Morva searched through the whole book, until on the fair leaf which +fronted "The Revelations" she found evident proof of Gethin's +depravity; and she quailed a little as she saw a vivid and realistic +pen and ink drawing of a fire of leaping flames, standing over which +was a monster in human shape, though boasting of a tail and cloven +hoofs. With fiendish glee the creature was toasting on a long fork +something which looked fearfully like a man, whose starting eyes and +writhing limbs showed plainly that he was not as happy as his +tormentor. It was very horrible, and Morva closed the book with a +snap, but could not resist the temptation of another peep, as there was +something written beneath in Welsh, which translated ran thus: + + "Here's the ugly old Boy! I tell you beware! + If you fall in his clutches there's badly you'll fare! + Look here at his picture, his claws and his tail, + If you make his acquaintance you're sure to bewail! + Hallelujah! Amen! + --GETHIN OWENS." + + +At the last words Morva stood aghast; this then was Gethin's terrible +crime! "Oh! there's a boy he must have been!" said the girl, clasping +her fingers as she leant over the big Bible. "Oh! dear, dear! no +wonder 'n'wncwl Ebben was so angry! I don't forget how cross he was +one day when I let the Bible fall; didn't his face alter! 'Dost +remember, girl,' he said, 'it is the Word of God!' and there's +frightened I was! Poor Gethin! 'twas hard, though, to turn him away, +for all they are such wicked words. 'Hallelujah! Amen!' Well, +indeed! the very words that 'n'wncwl Ebben says so solemn after the +sermon in Penmorien!" and she shook her head sorrowfully, "and here +they are after this song about the devil. Will would never have done +that," and she pondered a little seriously; "but poor Gethin! After +all, he was only a boy, and boys do dreadful things--but Will never +did! Mother reads her Bible plenty too, but I don't think she would +have turned me out when I was a little girl if I had made this song. +I'll tell her to-night, and see what she says about Gethin, poor +fellow." + +She closed and clasped the book, and mounting the table again, replaced +it in the hollow at the top of the bookcase, with the stuffed birds and +glass case over it. + +When Ann and her father returned from chapel, there was a conscious +look on her face which they both remarked upon at once. + +"What's the matter, Morva?" asked Ann. + +"Is the calf worse?" asked the old man. + +"No," answered the girl, her seriousness vanishing at once. "Nothing's +the matter; the calf is getting quite well." + +As she spoke Will arrived from church, wearing a black coat and a white +cotton tie, his prayer-book under his arm. + +Ebben Owens looked at him with an air of proud satisfaction. + +"Here comes the parson," he said, and Will smiled graciously even at +Morva, whom he generally ignored in the presence of Ann and his father. + +"Hast been stopping at home, Morva? I thought thee wast at chapel." + +"I am going home now," said the girl, eyeing him rather critically. "I +will tell mother I have seen the 'Rev. Verily Verily.'" + +Will flushed up, though he pretended to laugh; but Ebben Owens looked +annoyed. + +"No more of that nonsense, Morva; thou art a bit too forward, girl; +remember Will is thy master's son, and leave off thy jokes." + +"Oh! she meant no harm," said Will apologetically; "'twill be hard if +we can't have our jokes, parson or no parson." + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, without a shade of annoyance in her voice, +"'twill be hard at first; but I suppose I will get used to it some day. +Will you want me again to-night, Ann?" + +"No; but to-morrow early," said Ann. + +And Morva went singing through the farmyard, and along the fields to +the Cribserth; but to-day it was a hymn tune of mournful minor melody +which woke the echoes from moor and cliff. Rounding the ridge, the +same fair view greeted her eyes, as had chased away Will's ill-temper +on the preceding evening, and she sat a moment under the shadow of a +broom bush to ponder, for Morva was a girl of many thoughts though her +mind was perfectly uneducated, her heart and soul were alive with +earnest questions. Her seventeen years had been spent in close +companionship with a woman of exceptional character, and although the +girl did not share in the abnormal sensitiveness of her foster-mother, +she had gained from her intimacy with her, an unusual receptivity to +all the delicate influences of Nature. Sara claimed to be clairvoyant, +though she had never heard the word. Morva was clear seeing only; her +pure and simple spirit was undimmed by any mists of worldly ideas; no +subterfuge or plausible excuse ever hid the truth from her, and yet in +spite of this crystal innocence, she kept her engagement to Will a +secret from all the world, excepting Sara. + +It is the custom of the country to keep a love affair a secret as long +as possible; if it is discovered and talked about by outside gossips, +half its delight and charm is gone; indeed it is considered indelicate +to show any signs of love-making in public. It is true that this +secrecy often leads to serious mischief, but, on the other hand, there +is much to be said for the sensitive modesty of the Welsh maiden, when +compared with an English girl's too evident appreciation of her lover's +attentions in public. So hitherto Morva had followed Will's lead, and +shown no signs of more than the love and affection which was naturally +to be expected from her close intercourse with the Garthowen family +from babyhood. Did she feel anything more? She thought she did. From +childhood she had been promised to Will; the idea of marrying him when +they were both grown to manhood and maidenhood had been familiar to her +ever since she could remember. It caused no excitement in her mind, no +tumult in her heart. It was in the nature of things--it was Will's +wish--it was her fate! She did not rebel against it, but it woke no +thrill of delight within her. She had promised, and the idea of +breaking that promise was one that never entered her mind; but this +evening, as she sat under the broom bush, a curious feeling of unrest +came over her. How was it all to end? Would it not be wiser of Will +to turn his face to the world lying beyond the Cribserth ridge, where +the towns--the smooth roads--the college--and the many people lay, and +leave her to her lonely moor--to the sheep, and the gorse, and the +heather? She looked around her, where the evening sun was flooding +land and sea with golden glory. + +"I would not break my heart," she thought; "here is plenty to make me +happy; there's the sea and the sands and the rocks! and at night, oh, +anwl! nobody knows how beautiful it is to float about in Stiven +'Storrom's' boat, in and out of the rocks, and the stars shining so +bright in the sky, and the moon sometimes as light as day. Oh, no; I +wouldn't be unhappy," and stretching her arms out wide, she turned her +face up to the glowing sky. "I love it all," she said, "and I do not +want a lover." + +Catching sight of the blue smoke curling up from the heather mound +behind which Sara's cottage was buried, she rose, and dropping her +sober thoughts, ran homewards, singing and filling the sweet west wind +which blew round her with melody. But ere she reached the cottage +door, there came a whistle on the breeze, and, turning round, she saw +Will standing at the corner of the Cribserth, just where the rocky +rampart edged the hillside. She turned at once and slowly retraced her +footsteps, Will coming to meet her with more speedy progress. He had +changed his clothes, and in his work-a-day fustian looked far better +than he had in the black cloth suit which he had worn to church. + +"Well, indeed, Morva lass, thou runn'st like the wind; I could never +catch thee. Come and sit down behind these bushes, for I want to talk +to thee. Wert offended at what my father said just now?" + +"Offended! no," said the girl. "Garthowen has a right to say what he +likes to me, and besides, he was right, Will. I must learn to treat +thee with more respect." + +"Respect!" said Will, laying hold of her hands, "'tis more love I want, +lass, and not respect; sometimes I fear thou dost not love me." + +"But I do," said the girl calmly; "I do love thee, Will. 'Tis truth +that I would lay down my life for thee and all at Garthowen. Haven't +you been all in all to me--father, sister, brother? and especially you +and I, Will, have been together all our lives. Ann has not been quite +so much a sister to me since we've grown up, but then I am only the +milkmaid, and Gwilym Morris has come between." + +"Yes, true," said Will; "but between me and thee, Morva, nothing has +ever come. Promise me once more, that when I have a home for thee thou +wilt marry me and come and live with me. My love for thee is the only +shadow on my future, because I fear sometimes that something will part +us, and yet, lass, it is the brightest spot, too--dost believe me?" + +"Yes," said Morva, with eyes cast down upon the wild thyme which her +fingers were idly plucking, "I believe thee, Will. What need is there +to say more? I have promised thee to be thy wife, and dost think I +would break my word? Never! unless, Will, thou wishest it thyself. +Understand, that when once I am sure that thou hast changed thy mind +then I will never marry thee." + +"That time will never come," said Will; and they sat and talked till +the evening shadows lengthened and till the sun sank low in the west; +then they parted, and Morva once more turned her footsteps homewards. +She walked more soberly than before, and there was no song upon her +lips. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SEA MAIDEN + +Sara was sitting at tea when the girl arrived. Through the open +doorway came the glow of the sunset, with the humming of bees and the +smell of the thyme and the bean flowers. + +"Thou hast something to ask me, Morva. What is it?" she said, making +room for her at the little round table in the chimney corner. + +"Oh, 'tis nothing, I suppose," said Morva, cutting herself a long slice +of the flat barley loaf; "only 'tis the same old questions that are +often troubling me. What is going to become of me? What is in the +future for me? I used to think when I grew to be a woman I would marry +Will, and settle down at Garthowen close to you here, mother fach, and +take care of 'n'wncwl Ebben when Ann and Gwilym Morris were married; +but now, somehow, it all seems altered." + +The old woman looked at her long and thoughtfully. + +"Wait until later, child," she said. "Clear away the tea, tidy up the +hearth, and let me read my chapter while the daylight lasts," and +finishing her tea Morva did as she was bid. + +Later on in the evening, sitting on the low rush stool opposite to +Sara, she continued her inquiries. + +"Tell me, mother, about Will and Gethin when they were boys. Was +Gethin so very wicked?" + +"Wicked? No," said Sara, "never wicked. Wild and mischievous and full +of pranks he was, but the truest, the kindest boy in the world was +Gethin Owens Garthowen." + +"And Will?" + +"Will was a good boy always, but I never loved him as I loved the +other. Gethin had a bad character because he stole the apples from the +orchard, and he took Phil Graig's boat one day without asking leave, +and there was huboob all over the village, and his father was mad with +anger, and threatened to give him a thrashing; but in the evening +Gethin brought the boat back quite safely. He had been as far as +Ynysoer, and he brought back a creel full of fish for Phil, to make up. +Phil made a good penny by the fish, and forgave the boy bach; but his +father was thorny to Gethin for a long time. Then at last he did +something--I never knew what--that offended his father bitterly, and he +was sent away, and never came back again." + +"Mother," said Morva solemnly, "I have found out what he did. He got +his mother's Bible and he wrote some dreadful things in it, and made a +fearful picture." + +"Picture of what?" asked the old woman. + +"A picture of flames and fire, and the devil toasting a man on it, and +a song about the devil. Here it is; I remember every word," and she +repeated it word for word, it having sunk deeply into her mind. "Then +at the bottom he had written, 'Hallelujah, Amen! Gethin Owens +Garthowen.'" + +A smile overspread Sara's countenance as she observed Morva's +solemnity, a smile which somewhat lessened the girl's disquietude. + +"Was it so very wicked, mother?" + +"Wicked? No," said the old woman. "What wonder was it that the boy +drew a picture of the things that he heard every Sunday in +chapel--God's never-ending anger, and the devil's gathering in the +precious souls which He has created. That would be a failure, Morva, +and God can't fail in anything. No, no," she added shrewdly, nodding +her head, "He will punish us for our sins, but the devil is not going +to triumph over the Almighty in the end." + +Morva pondered seriously as she fed the fire from a heap of dried furze +piled up in the corner behind the big chimney. + +"I was very little when Gethin went away, but I remember it. Now tell +me about the night when first I came to you. I love that story as much +now as I did when I was a child." + +"That night," said Sara, "oh! that night, my child. I see it as +plainly as I have seen the gold of the sunset to-night. It had been +blowing all day from the north-west till the bay was like a pot of +boiling milk. It was about sunset (although we couldn't see the sun), +there was a dark red glow over everything as if it were angry with us. +Up here on the moor the wind shrieked and roared and tore the poor +sheep from the fold, and the little sea-crows from their nests. I sat +here alone, for it was the year when my husband and baby had died, and, +oh, I was lonely, child! I moaned with the wind, and my tears fell +like the rain. I heaped the furze on the fire and kept a good blaze; +it was cold, for it was late in October. It grew darker and darker, +and I sat on through the night, and gradually my ears got used to the +raging of the storm, I suppose, for I fell asleep, sitting here under +the chimney, but suddenly I awoke. The wind was shrieking louder than +ever, and there in that dark corner by the spinning-wheel I saw a faint +shadow that changed into the form of a woman. She was pale, and had on +a long white gown, her hair, light like thine, hung down in threads as +if it were wet. She held out her hands to me, and I sat up and +listened. I saw her lips move, and, though I could not hear her voice, +I seemed to understand what she said, for thee know'st, Morva, I am +used to these visions." + +"Yes," said the girl, nodding her head. + +"Well, I rose and answered her, and drew my old cloak from the peg +there. 'I am coming,' I said, and she glided before me out through the +door and down the path over the moor. I saw her, a faint, white +figure, gliding before me till I reached the Cribserth, and there she +disappeared, but I knew what she wished me to do; and I followed the +path down to the shore, and there was tumult and storm indeed, the air +full of spray, and even in the black night the foaming waves showing +white against the darkness. Out at sea there was a ship in distress, +there was a light on the mast, and we knew by its motion that the poor +ship was sorely tossed and driven. Many people had gathered on the +shore in the darkness. No one had thought of calling me, for here we +are out of the world, Morva; but the spirits come more easily to the +lonely moor than to the busy town. Ebben Owens was there, and little +Ann, and all the servants and the people from the farms beyond the +moor, but no one could help the poor ship in her distress. At last the +light went out, and we knew the waves had swallowed her up, and all +night on the incoming tide came spars and logs and shattered timber, +and many of the drowned sailors. Stiven 'Storrom' was there as usual, +and in the early dawn, when there was just a streak of light in the +angry sky, he shouted out that he had found something, and we all ran +towards him, and there, tied safely to a hencoop, lay a tiny baby, wet +and sodden, but still alive. It was thee, child, so wasn't I right to +call thee Morforwyn?[1] though indeed we soon shortened it to Morva. +When I saw thee I knew at once 'twas thy mother who had come to me +here, and had led me down to the shore, and I begged them to give me +the baby. 'There is a reason,' I said, but I did not tell them what it +was. What was the good, Morva? They would not understand. They would +only jeer at me as they do, and call me Sara ''spridion.'[2] Well, let +them, I am richer than they, oh! ten thousand times, and I would not +change my life here on the lonely moor, and the visions I have here, +for any riches they could offer me." + +"No, indeed, and it is a happy home for me, too, though I don't see +your visions; but then you tell me about them, and it teaches me a +great deal. Mother, I think my life is more full of happy thoughts +than most of the girls about here because of your teaching. No, I +don't want to leave here, except, of course, I must live at Garthowen +when Will wants me." + +The old woman made no answer, but continued to gaze at the crackling +furze. + +"You wish that too, mother?" asked the girl. + +"I did, 'merch i, but now I don't know indeed, Morva. Thou must not +marry without love." + +"Without love, mother! I have told you many times I love Will with all +my heart." + +Sara shook her head with a smile of incredulity. + +"It is a dream, child, and thou wilt wake some day. Please God it may +not be too late." + +A pained look overspread the girl's face, a turmoil of busy thought was +in her brain, but there was no uncertainty in the voice with which she +answered: + +"Mother, I love Will. I have told him so. I have promised to be his +wife, and I would rather die than break my word." + +"Well, well," said Sara, "there is no need to trouble, child, only try +to do right, and all that will be settled for thee; but I think I see +sorrow for thee, and it comes from Will." + +"Well," said Morva bravely, as she flung another bunch of furze on the +fire, "I suppose I must bear my share of that like other people. 'As +the sparks fly upward,' mother, the Bible says, and see, there's a fine +lot of them," and she raked the small fire with the lightsome laugh of +youth. + +"Ah!" said the old woman, "thou canst laugh at sorrows now, Morva; but +when they come they will prick thee like that furze." + +"And I will stamp them out as I do these furze, mother," and again she +laughed merrily, but ceased suddenly, and, with her finger held up, +listened intently. + +"What is that sound?" she asked. "It is some one brushing through the +heather and furze. Who can it be? Is it Will?" + +Both women were fluttered and frightened, for such a thing as a +footstep approaching their door at so late an hour was seldom heard, +for at Garthowen they all retired early, and the cottagers in the +village below avoided Sara as something uncanny, and looked askance +even at Morva, who seemed not to have much in common with the other +girls of the countryside. + +"'Tis a man's step," she whispered, "and he is coming into the cwrt," +and, while she was still speaking, there came a firm, though not loud, +knock at the door. + +Morva shrank a little under the big chimney, where she stood in the +glow of the flaming furze; but Sara rose without hesitation, and going +to the door, opened it wide. + +"Who is here so late at night?" she asked. + +"Shall I come in, Sara, and I will explain?" said a pleasant, though +unknown voice. "'Twas to Garthowen I was going, but when I reached +there every light was put out, so I wouldn't wake the old man from his +first sleep, and I have come on here to see can you let me sleep here +to-night? Dost know me, Sara?" + +"Gethin Owens!" exclaimed the old woman, with delighted surprise. "My +dear boy, come in!" + +There was no light in the cottage except that of the fitful furze fire, +so that when Gethin entered he exclaimed at the darkness, + +"Sara fach, let's have a light, for I am longing to see thee!" + +Morva threw a fresh furze branch on the fire. The motion attracted +Gethin's attention, and as the quick flame leaped up, the girl stood +revealed. While Sara fumbled about for the candle the flame burnt out, +and for a moment there was gloom again. + +"Hast one of thy spirits here, or was it an angel I saw standing there +by the fire?" said the newcomer; but when Sara had succeeded in +lighting the candle, he saw it was no spirit, but a creature of flesh +and blood who stood before him. + +"No, no, 'tis only Morva," said Sara, dusting a chair and pushing it +towards him. "Sit thee down, my boy, and let me have a good look at +thee. Well! well! is it Gethin, indeed? this great big man, so tall +and broad." + +But Gethin's eyes were fixed upon the girl, who still stood astonished +and bewildered under the chimney. + +"Morva!" he said, "is this little Morva, who cried so bad after me when +I went away, and whom I have longed to see so often? Come, shake +hands, lass; dost remember thy old playmate?" and he advanced towards +her with both hands outstretched. + +Morva placed her own in his. + +"Yes, indeed," she answered, "now in the light I can see 'tis thee, +Gethin--just the same and unaltered only--only--" + +"Only grown bigger and rougher and uglier, but never mind; 'tis the +same old Gethin who carried thee about the slopes on his shoulders, +but, dei anwl! I didn't expect to see thee so altered and so--so +pretty." + +Morva blushed but ignored the compliment. + +"Well, indeed, there's glad they'll be to see thee at Garthowen." + +"Dost think?" + +"Yes, indeed; but won't I put him some supper, mother?" + +"Yes, 'merch i, put on the milk porridge." + +And Morva, glad to hide her embarrassment, set about preparing the +evening meal, for Gethin's eyes told the admiration which he dared not +speak. His gaze followed her about as she mixed the milk and the +oatmeal in the quaint old iron crochon. + +"'Twill soon be ready; thee must be hungry, lad," said Sara, laying the +bowls and spoons in readiness on the table. + +"Yes, I am hungry, indeed, for I have walked all the way from +Caer-Madoc. 'Tis Sunday, thee seest, so there were no carts coming +along the road. Halt, halt, lass!" he said, "let me lift that heavy +crochon for thee." + +"Canst sleep on the settle, Gethin?" asked the old woman, "for I have +no bed for thee. I will spread quilts and pillows on it." + +Gethen laughed boisterously. + +"Quilts and pillows, indeed, for a man who has slept on the hard deck, +on the bare ground, on a coil of ropes; and once on a floating spar, +when I thought sleep was death, and welcomed it too." + +"Hast seen many hardships then, dear lad?" said Sara. "Perhaps when we +were sleeping sound in out beds, thou hast oftentimes been battling +with death and shipwreck." + +"Not often, but more than once, indeed," said Gethin. + +"Thou must tell us after supper some of thy wonderful escapes." + +"Yes, I'll tell you plenty of yarns," said Gethin, his eyes still +following Morva's movements. + +A curious silence had fallen upon the girl, generally so ready to talk +in utter absence of self-consciousness. She served the porridge into +the black bowls, and shyly pushed Gethin's towards him, cutting him a +slice of the barley bread and butter. + +"I have left my canvas bag at Caer-Madoc," said Gethin, when he had +somewhat appeased his appetite. "'Twill come up to Garthowen +to-morrow. I have a present in it for thee, Morva." + +"For me?" said the girl, and a flood of crimson rushed into her face. +"I didn't think thee wouldst be remembering me." + +"There thou wast wrong, then," said Gethin, cutting himself another +slice. + +"Well, indeed, I have never had a present before!" + +"I have one for Ann, and Will, and my father, God bless him! And how +is good old Will?" + +"He is quite well," said Morva. + +"As industrious and good as ever? Dei anwl! there's a difference there +was between me and him! You wouldn't think we were children of the +same mother. Well, you can't alter your nature, and I'm afraid 'tis a +bad lot Gethin Owens will be to the end!" And he laughed aloud, his +black eyes sparkling, and the rings in his ears shining out in the +gloom of the cottage. + +Morva looked at the stalwart form, the swarthy skin, the strong, even +teeth, that gleamed so white under the black moustache, the jet-black +hair, the broad shoulders, and thought how proud Ann would be of such a +brother. + +They sat long into the night, Sara gathering from the young man the +history of all his varied experiences since he had left his father's +home; Morva listening intently as she cleared away the supper, Gethin's +eyes following her light figure with fascinated gaze. + +At last the door was bolted, the fire swept up, and Sara and Morva, +retiring to the penucha, left Gethin to his musings, which, however, +quickly resolved themselves into a heavy, dreamless sleep, that lasted +until the larks were singing above the moor on the following morning. + + + +[1] Sea-maiden. + +[2] Spirit Sara. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +GETHIN'S PRESENTS + +The corn harvest had commenced, and Ebben Owens was up and out early in +the cornfields. Will, too, was there, but with scant interest in the +work. It had never been a labour of love with him, and now that fresh +hopes and prospects were dawning upon him, the farm duties seemed more +insignificant and tedious than ever. Had it been Gethin who stretched +himself and yawned as he attacked the first swathe of corn, Ebben Owens +would have called him a "lazy lout," but as it was Will, he only +jokingly rallied him upon his want of energy. + +"Come, come," he said, "thee'st not got thy gown and bands on yet. +We'll have hard work to finish this field by sunset; another hand +wouldn't be amiss." + +"Here it is, then," said a pleasant, jovial voice, as a sunburnt man +came through the gap, holding out his brown right hand to Ebben Owens. +The other he stretched towards Will, who had thrown his sickle away, +and was hastily approaching. + +No human heart could have steeled itself against that frank countenance +and beaming smile, certainly no father's. There was no questioning +"Who art thou?" for in both father's and brother's hearts leaped up the +warm feeling of kinship. + +"Gethin!" said Ebben Owens, clasping the hand held out to him so +genially. "'Machgen i, is it thee indeed? Well, well, I am glad to +see thee!" + +And Will, too, greeted the long-lost one with warm welcome. + +The reapers gathered round, and Gethin's reception was cordial enough +to satisfy even his anticipations; for he had thought of this +home-coming, had dreamt of the welcome, and had earnestly desired it, +with the intense longing for home which is almost the ruling passion of +a Welshman's heart. + +"Here I am," he said, laughing, his eyes sparkling with +happiness--"here I am, ready for anything! 'The prodigal son' has +returned, father. Will you have him? Will you set him to work at once +with your hired servants? For I love hard work, and if I don't get it, +perhaps I'll fall into mischief again." + +"No, no," said Ebben Owens, "no work for thee this morning, lad. Thee +must go home with Will, and lighten Ann's heart, for she has grieved +for thee many a time, and I will follow at noon. To-morrow thou shalt +work if thou wilt; there is plenty to do at Garthowen, as usual. Come, +boys, come, on with the work. Nothing must stop the harvest, not even +the homecoming of Gethin." + +The men stooped to their work again, but there were muttered comments +on the master's want of feeling. + +"Dei anwl! if it had been Will," said one man to his neighbour, "the +reaping would have been thrown to the winds, and we would have had a +grand supper on the fatted calf. But Gethin is different. There's a +fine fellow he is!" + +"Yes," said another; "did you notice his broad chest and his bright +eyes? Will looks nothing by him." + +And they looked after the two young men as they passed through the gap +together, Ebben Owens taking up Will's sickle and setting to work in +his place. + +Meanwhile Gethin, with a sailor's light, swinging gait, hastened Will's +more measured steps towards the homestead. + +"Well, Will lad, there's glad I am to see thee!" + +"And I," said Will. "No one knows how much I grieved after thee at +first, but latterly I was beginning to get used to thy absence." + +"Well, 'twas quite the contrary with me, now," said Gethin. "At first +I was full of the new scenes and people around me, and I didn't think +much about old Wales or any of you; but as the time went on my heart +seemed to ache more and more for the old home--more and more, more and +more!--till at last I made up my mind I would give up the sea and go +back to Garthowen and stay, if they wanted me there, and help the old +man on the farm. Dost think he will have me?" + +"Yes, of course," said Will. "Thou hast come in the nick of time, and +'twill be easier for me to leave home, as I am going to do next month." + +"Leave home?" said Gethin, in astonishment. + +"Yes," and Will began to expatiate with pride on his new plans, and his +intention of entering Llaniago College at once. + +"Diwss anwl!" said Gethin; "have I got to live continually with a +parson? I'm afraid I had better pack up my bundle at once; thee wilt +never have patience with me and my foolish ways." + +Will looked sober. "Thy foolish ways! I hope thou hast left them +behind thee." + +"Well, truth," said Gethin, "as we grow older our faults and follies +get buried deeper under the surface; but it takes very little to dig +them up with me. I am only a foolish boy in spite of my strong limbs +and tall stature. But so it will always be. You can't make a silk +purse out of a sow's ear, and Gethin Owens will be Gethin Owens always. +There's the dear old place!" he cried suddenly; "there's the elder tree +over the kitchen door! Well, indeed! I have thought of it many times +in distant lands and stormy seas, and here it is now in reality! God +bless the old home!" and he took off his cap and waved it round his +head as he shouted, "Hoi! hoi!" to Ann, who, already apprised of his +coming, was running through the farmyard to meet him. + +"Oh, Gethin anwl!" she sobbed, as she clasped her arms round his neck. + +Gethin gently loosed her clinging fingers, and kissed the tears from +her eyes, and in her heart welled up again the tender love which had +been smothered and buried for so long. + +Gwilym Morris came hurrying down from his "study," a tiny room +partitioned off from the hayloft. And if the fatted calf was not +killed for Gethin's return, a fine goose was, and no happier family sat +down to their midday meal that day in all Wales than the household of +Garthowen. + +In the afternoon Gethin insisted upon taking his sickle to the +cornfield, and although the work was new to him his brawny arm soon +made an impression on the standing corn. The field was full of +laughter and talk, the sweet autumn air was laden with the scent of the +blackberries and honeysuckle in the hedges, and the work went on with a +will until, at four o'clock, the reapers took a rest, sitting on the +sunny hedge sides. + +Through the gap Ann and Morva appeared, bringing the welcome basket of +tea. Gethin hurried towards them, relieving them of the heavy basket +which they were carrying between them. + +"Thee'll have enough to do if thee'st going to help the women folk +here," said Will. + +"He's been in foreign parts," said a reaper, "and learnt manners, ye +see." + +"Yes," said another, "that polish will soon wear off." + +"Well, caton pawb!" said Gethin, "manners or no manners, man, I never +could sit still and see a woman, foreign or Welsh, carry a heavy load +without helping her." + +The two girls spread the refreshing viands on the grass, and with merry +repartee answered the jokes of the hungry reapers. + +"'Twill be a jolly supper to-night, Miss Ann; we'll expect the 'fatted +calf,'" said one. + +"Well, you'll get it," replied Ann; "'tis veal in the cawl, whatever." + +"Hast seen Gethin before?" said Will to Morva, observing there was no +greeting between them. + +"Well, yes," answered the girl, blushing a rosy red under her +sunbonnet; "wasn't it at our cottage he slept last night? and indeed +there's glad mother was to see him." + +"And thee ought to be too," said one of the reapers, "for I'll never +forget how thee cried the day he ran away." + +"Well, I'll never make her cry again," said Gethin. "Art going at +once, lass? Wilt not sit here and have tea with us?" and he drew his +coat, which he had taken off for his work, toward her, and spread it on +the hedge side. + +Morva laughed shyly; she was not used to such attentions. + +"No, indeed, I must go," she answered; "we are preparing supper." + +As she followed Ann through the gap Gethin looked after her with a +smile in his eyes. + +"There's bonnie flowers growing on the slopes of Garthowen, and no +mistake," he said. + +Will examined the edge of his sickle and did not answer. + +Later on, when the harvest supper was over, and the last brawny reaper +had filed out of the farmyard in the soft evening twilight, the +Garthowen household dropped in one by one to the best kitchen, where +their own meals were generally partaken of. Ebben Owens himself, as +often as not, took his with the servants, but Will, especially of late, +preferred to join Ann and Gwilym Morris in the best kitchen or hall. +Here they were seated to-night, a glowing fire of culm balls filling +the large grate, and throwing a light which was but little helped by +the home-made dip standing in a brass candlestick on the middle of the +table, round which they were all gathered while Gethin displayed his +presents. + +"Here's a tie for you, father; green it is, with red spots; would you +like it?" + +"Ts-ts!" said the old man, "it has just come in time, lad, for me to +wear on Sunday when I go to hear Will reading in church." + +"That will be a proud day for you, father; I will go with you. And for +thee, Will, here's a knife. I remember how fond thee wast of the old +knife we bought in the fair together." + +"Well, indeed!" said Will, clasping and unclasping the blades; "'tis a +splendid one, too, and here's a fine blade to mend pens with!" + +"And for Ann," continued Gethen, "I have only a hymn-book." + +"What couldst thou bring me better? And look at the cover! So good. +And the gold edges! And Welsh! I will be proud of it." + +"Yes," said Gethin; "I bought it in Liverpool in a shop where they sell +Welsh books. And for you, sir," he said, turning to Gwilym Morris. + +"'Sir,'" said the preacher, laughing; "Gethin bach, this is the second +time you have called me 'sir.' Drop it, man, or I will be offended." + +"Well! I won't say it again. Dei anwl! I will have to be on my best +behaviour here, with a parson and a preacher in the house! Well! it's +a pocket-book for you, I thought very like, being a preacher, you would +like to put down a word sometimes." + +"Quite right, indeed," said Gwilym Morris; "and look at my old one, +barely hanging together it is!" + +At the bottom of the bag from which Gethin drew his treasures, lay the +little painted box containing Morva's necklace. + +"Where's Morva?" he asked. "I've got something for her, too." + +"Oh, well," said Will, "thou art a generous man and a rich, I should +think! Perhaps thou hast one for Dyc 'pigstye' and Sara ''spridion' +too." + +"Dyc 'pigstye'; no! But Sara, indeed I'm sorry I didn't remember her, +whatever." + +"I hear Morva's voice in the yard. Will I call her in?" said Ann, and +she tapped at the little side window. + +"No, no," said Gethin, "I will take it to her," and he went out, +carrying the gaudy box in his hand. + +"Morva!" he called, and under the elder tree, where she was counting +the chickens at roost on its branches, the girl stood facing him, the +rising moon shining full upon her. "Morva, lass," he said, drawing +near; "'tis the present I told thee of. Wilt have it?" and there was a +diffident tremor in his voice, which was not its usual tone; for +to-night he was as shy as a schoolboy as he opened the box and drew out +the shining necklace. The iridescent colours gleamed in the moonlight +and Morva exclaimed in admiration: + +"Oh, anwl! is that for me?" + +"Yes, for thee, lass; for who else?" said Gethin. "Let me fasten it on +for thee. 'Tis a tiresome clasp," and as she bent her shapely neck and +his fingers touched it for a moment, she gently drew further away. + +"Dost like them?" said Gethin, looking from the shining shells to the +glowing face above them. + +"Oh, they are beautiful!" she answered, feeling them with her fingers. +"I will go in and show them to Ann. I haven't said 'thank you,' but I +do thank thee indeed, Gethin;" and he followed her into the "hall," +where the glowing light from the fire and the candle fell on the +changing glitter of the shells. + +"Oh, there's beautiful!" said Ann. "Come near, Morva, and let me look +at them. Well, indeed, they are fit for a lady." + +"Thee must have paid a lot for that," said Ebben Owens, rather +reproachfully. + +"Not much indeed, father, but I wasn't going to forget my little +playfellow, whatever." + +"No, no, my boy, that was quite right," said the old man; and Will too +tried to smile and admire, but there was a flush of vexation on his +face which did not escape Morva's notice. + +"I must go now," she said, a little shadow falling over her. + +"Let me loosen the clasp for thee," said Gethin; but Morva, remembering +the touch of the brown fingers, quickly reached the door. + +"No--no, I must show them to mother." + +"Hast thanked Gethin, lass?" said the old man. + +"Not much, indeed," she answered, turning back at the door, "but I +thank thee, Gethin, for remembering me," and, half-playfully and +half-seriously, she made him a little bob curtsey. + +Arrived in the cottage she drew eagerly into the gleam of the candle. + +"Mother, mother, look! see what Gethin has brought me. Oh! look at +them, mother; row under row of glittering shells from some far-off +beach. Look at them, mother; green--blue--purple with a silver sheen +over them, too. I never thought there were such shells in the world." + +"They are beautiful, indeed," said Sara, "but just like a sailor. If +he had given thee something useful it would have been better. They +will not suit a shepherdess. Thee will have to take them off in a day +or two and lay them away in their box. 'Tis a pity, too, child." + +"Any way, mother, I will wear them sometimes; they are only shells +after all. 'Tis hard I can't wear them because they are so lovely." + +And the next day she wore them again, and, longing to see for herself +how she looked, made her way up to the moor in the early morning +sunshine to where a clear pool in the brown peat bog reflected the sky +and the gold of the furze bushes. Here she stood on the edge and gazed +at her own reflection in the clear water. + +"Oh, 'tis pretty!" she said leaning over the pool, and as she gazed her +own beautiful face with its halo of golden hair impressed itself on her +mind as it had never done before. "And there's pretty I am, too," she +whispered, and gazing at her own image she blushed, entranced with the +vision. "Good-bye, Morva," she whispered again, "good-bye. I wonder +does Gethin see me pretty? But I must not think that; what would be +the use? Will does, and that must be enough for me;" and with a sigh +she turned down the moor again. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE BROOM GIRL + +One morning in the following week the high road leading to Castell On +presented a lively appearance. It was white and dusty from the tramp +of the country folk and the vehicles of all descriptions which followed +each other towards the town, whose one long street would be crowded +from ten o'clock in the morning till late afternoon, as it was market +day. This was the weekly excitement of the neighbourhood, and there +was scarcely a household within the radius of a few miles that did not +send at least one of its members to swell the number of chafferers and +bargainers in the market. Jolly farmers, buxom maidens, old women in +witch hats and scarlet scarves, pigs, sheep, horses, all followed each +other in the same direction. + +Amongst the rest came a girl who rather stooped under what looked like +a large bunch of blooming heather. It was Morva, who was carrying her +bundle of heath brooms to the corner of the market-place, where she was +eagerly waited for by the farmers' wives. + +Dyc "pigstye" was accustomed to bring her a bundle of broom handles, +which he had roughly fashioned in the wood in the valley, and she and +Sara employed their leisure hours in tying on to them the bunches of +purple heather, binding them firmly with the young withies of the +willows growing here and there on the boggy moor. + +There was always quite a little knot of women round her stall of brooms +and wings, for she collected also from the farmhouses the wings of the +geese and ducks which had been killed for the market, and after drying +them carefully in the big chimney, sold them as brushes for hearth and +stairs. Sometimes, too, her stock-in-trade was increased by a +collection of wooden bowls, spoons, scales, and trenchers, which Stiven +"Storrom," living on the shore below, turned off his lathe, and sold +through Morva's agency. At such times she borrowed Stiven's +donkey-cart, and stood by it in the market until her wares were sold. +But to-day she had only her brooms, and tying them on her shoulders, +she held the cords crossed over her bosom, stooping a little under +their weight. Her head was buried in the purple blossoms, so that she +did not hear the tramp of footsteps following close behind her. + +Gethin and Will were going to the market together, and the latter had +recognised the girl at some distance off, but had kept silence and +lessened his speed a little until his brother had asked: + +"Who is this lass walking before us? Let's catch her up and carry her +brooms for her." + +"Nonsense," said Will. "A Garthowen man may drive his sheep, his oxen, +and his horses to market, but to carry a bundle of brooms would not +look well. Leave them and the fowls to the women, and the pigs to the +men-servants--that's my fancy." + +"Well, my fancy is to help this lassie," said Gethin. "She's got a +tidy pair of ankles, whatever; let's see what her face is like." + +"'Tis Morva," said Will, rather sulkily. + +"Then we know what her face is like. Come on, man. Who will be the +first to catch her?" and Gethin hurried his steps, while Will held back +a little. "Why, what's the matter? Surely thou art not ashamed to be +seen with Morva?" + +"Of course not," said Will irritably; "but--er--er--a broom girl!" + +"Oh, jawks!" said Gethin. "Brooms or no brooms, I am going to catch +her up," and coming abreast other, he laid his hand on the bunches of +blooming heather. + +"Morva," he said, bending round her purple burden, "where art here, +lassie? Thee art buried in flowers! Come, loosen thy cords, and hoist +them upon my shoulder." + +And as the girl looked at him from under the brooms, his voice changed, +the brusque sailor manner softened. + +"'Tis not for a girl like thee to be carrying a heavy weight on thy +shoulders," he said gently. "Come, loosen thy cords." + +But Morva held them tightly. + +"Not for the world," she said. "It is quite right I should carry my +wares to market, but I would not like to see a son of Garthowen with a +bundle of brooms on his shoulders." + +"I will have them," he said; "come, loosen the cords," and he laid hold +of one of the hands which held the rope. + +A warm glow overspread Morva's face, as the large brown hand covered +hers in its firm grasp. + +"No, I will do this to please thee," she said, and loosening her hold +of the bundle, she flung it suddenly into an empty red cart which was +rattling by. "Take care of them, Shemi, thou know'st my corner in the +market." + +"Yes, yes," said Shemi, "they will be all right." + +And Morva stood up in the sunshine freed from her burden. + +Will seemed to think it the right time to join them, and suddenly +appearing, greeted the girl, but rather coldly, and the three walked on +together, Gethin much resenting Will's bad temper, and endeavouring to +make up for his brother's somewhat silent and pre-occupied manner by +keeping up the conversation himself. But a little constraint fell upon +them all, Gethin chafing at the girl's apparent nervousness, and his +brother's silence; Morva fearful of offending Will, and disturbed at +her own pleasure at meeting Gethin. When they reached the town she +bade them good-bye. + +"Here's my corner," she said, "and when I have sold my brooms, I am +going home in the cart from the mill at Pont-y-fro." + +Will seemed relieved at this solving of his difficulties, but Gethin +was not so satisfied; he roamed the market discontentedly, filling his +pockets with sweets and gingerbread. Many times that day he peered +through the crowd into the corner out of the sun, where Morva's purple +blooms made a grand show. At last he ventured nearer, and laying his +sweets and gingerbreads down beside her, said: + +"Thee'll be hungry by and by, Morva; wilt have these?" + +The girl's eyes drooped, and she scarcely answered, but the smile and +the blush with which she took up the paper bags were quite enough for +Gethin, who went home early, with that smile and blush gilding every +thought and every subject of conversation with his companions of the +road. + +In the afternoon Morva, having sold her brooms, prepared to leave the +market. Looking up the sunny street, she saw Will approaching, and the +little cloud of sadness which Gethin's genial smile had banished for a +time, returned, bringing with it a pucker on the brows and a droop at +the corners of her mouth. + +"Well, indeed," she soliloquised, "there's grand Will is looking, with +his gloves and shining boots; quite like a gentleman. 'Tis not only me +he will have to say good-bye to soon, I am thinking, but to all at +Garthowen." + +Her thoughts were interrupted by his arrival. "Art still here, Morva?" +he said; "I thought thee wouldst have gone long ago." + +"Only just now I have sold my brooms. There's Jacob the Mill, now I +will go." + +Will looked at the cart uneasily as it rumbled up the street; already +he was beginning to be ashamed of his rustic surroundings. + +With keen sensitiveness Morva read his thoughts. + +"Nay, there's no need for you to help me, Will. I am used to the mill +cart, and indeed to goodness, 'twould not suit with gloves and shining +boots to be helping a girl into a red cart." + +"Twt, nonsense," said Will irritably; but he nevertheless allowed her +to leave him, with a wave of her hand, and an amused twinkle in her eye. + +As she hurried to catch the cart, he stood a moment moodily looking +after her, his better nature prompting him to follow and help her, but +it was too late; already the brilliant vehicle, with Morva and the +burly Jacob sitting in it side by side, was swallowed up by the crowd +of market people and cattle, and Will turned on his heel with a look of +vexation on his face. + +The market was at its liveliest, the sunny air laden with a babel of +sounds. Men and women chattered and chaffered, pigs shrieked, sheep +bleated, and cattle lowed, but Will scarcely noticed the familiar +sounds. A light step and a soft voice, however, attracted his +attention, and he saw approaching him two girls, who evidently belonged +to a different class from those whose simple ways we have hitherto +followed. One was a lady of very ordinary appearance, but the other he +recognised as Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny, a young lady whose beauty and +pleasant manners were the frequent theme of the countryside gossip, +"and no wonder," he thought, "she _is_ pretty!" + +"Ah! what a pity!" she was saying to her friend, who was evidently a +young housekeeper intent upon her purchases, "the brooms are all gone! +we're too late!" + +Will walked away hastily, lest standing upon that spot he might appear +to be in some way connected with the broom girl. Suddenly there was a +tumult in the air, a rushing of feet, and cries of fright, and in a +cloud of dust he saw rushing towards him an infuriated bull, which had +evidently escaped from his attendant, for from the iron ring in his +nose still hung the rope by which he had been held. With head lowered +and tail curled high over his back, he dashed towards the two ladies, +who fled in affright before him, one escaping through an open doorway, +while the other, bewildered and terrified, catching her foot in an +upturned stall-table, fell prone exactly in the path of the bull. The +poor animal, as frightened as any of his shouting pursuers, increased +his own mad fury by continually stepping upon the rope which dangled +from the ring in his nose, thus inflicting upon himself the pain from +which he endeavoured to escape. + +The girl screamed with terror, as the snorting nostrils and curving +horns came close upon her. In another moment she would undoubtedly +have been seriously gored, had not Will, who was in no wise lacking in +personal courage, rushed in upon the scene. One look at the beautiful, +pale face lying helpless in the dust, and he had seized the creature's +horns. The muscular power of his arms was well known at Garthowen, and +now it stood him in good stead, for calling his full strength to his +aid, he succeeded by a sudden wrench in turning the bull's head aside, +so that the direct force of his attack came upon the ground instead of +the girl's body. + +In a moment the enraged animal turned upon his assailant, and probably +Will would have fared badly had not a drover arrived, who, possessing +himself of the rope, gave a sudden and sharp twitch at the bull's nose, +a form of punishment so agonising and alas, so familiar, that the +animal was instantly subdued, and brought under comparative control, +not, however, before his horn had slightly torn Will's arm. + +An excited crowd of market people had now reached the spot, and while +the animal, frightened into submissiveness by the blows and cries that +surrounded him, was led away snorting and panting, Will looked in +affright at the girl who lay white and unconscious on the ground. + +"Did he toss her?" asked one of the crowd, "or is she only frightened? +Dear! there's white she looks, there's delicate the gentry are!" + +"'Tis her foot, I think," said Will; "let be, I will hold her." + +"Yes, 'tis her foot," said another, "the bull must have trampled on it, +see how dusty it is--there's a pity." + +It was in fact more from the pain of the crushed foot than from fright +that Gwenda had fainted, for she was a brave girl. Though fully alive +to her danger she had not lost consciousness until her foot had been +crushed, and even then not before she had seen Will's rush to her +rescue, and his energetic twist of the animal's horns. + +Two or three gentlemen now came running up the street, amongst them her +uncle, Colonel Vaughan, who, standing at the door of the hotel, had +witnessed the escape of the bull, and the pursuit of him by the excited +throng of market people. Remembering that his niece had but a few +moments previously passed up the street, he too ran in the same +direction, and arrived on the scene as promptly as his short legs and +shorter breath permitted him. In a fever of fright and flurry he +approached, the crowd making way for him as he snapped out a cannonade +of irrelevant questions. + +"Good heavens! Gwenda! What is it? My darling, are you hurt? Who +did it? How very careless!" + +"'Tis her foot, I think, sir," said Will. "She has not been gored, and +if you will send for your carriage I will lift her in as I am already +holding her." + +"She'd have been killed for certain," said one of the crowd, "if this +young man had not rushed at the bull and saved her life. I saw it all +from the window of the Market Hall. He risked his life, I can tell +you, sir, and you've got to thank him that the young lady is not +killed." + +"Yes, yes, a brave young fellow, pommy word. There comes the carriage, +now raise her gently," and Will lifted the slender form as easily as he +would have carried a swathe of corn. + +Slipping her gently into a recumbent position in the carriage, he +endeavoured to rest her foot on the opposite seat, but she moaned and +opened her eyes as he did so, crying out with evident pain. + +"'Tis plain the position hurts her," said her uncle. + +Will lifted the foot again, and the moaning ceased. + +"That's it," said the colonel; "sit down and hold it up." + +Will did as he was bid in a maze of bewilderment, and while the colonel +continued to wonder, to lament, and to congratulate, Will made a soft +cushion of a wrap which he found beside him, and resting the foot upon +it he held the two ends, so that the injured limb hung as it were in a +sling, thus lessening very much the effect of the jolting of the +carriage over the rough road. + +"Drive slowly," said the colonel to his coachman, "and call at Dr. +Jones's on your way. Can you spare time to come as far as Nantmyny?" +he said, addressing Will. + +"Oh! yes, sir, certainly," he answered in good English. + +"Tis the right foot, I think," said the old gentleman, unbuttoning the +boot. + +The girl opened her eyes. + +"Oh! uncle, it hurts," she said. "Keep it up," and catching sight of +Will, she looked inquiringly at her uncle. + +"Tis the young man who saved your life, child," he explained. + +"Oh! not that, sir," said Will. "I am sorry I have not even prevented +her being hurt." + +At first there was a pompous stiffness in Colonel Vaughan's manner, but +he added more graciously: + +"I hope you were not hurt yourself. Bless me! is that blood on your +hand?" + +"I have cut my wrist a little, but 'tis nothing," said Will. "Please +not to think about it." + +"Oh! certainly, certainly, we must. Here's Dr. Jones. Come in, +doctor. You must squeeze in somewhere. Gwenda has had a narrow +escape, and this young fellow has hurt his wrist in saving her. A very +brave young man! Mercy we were not all killed, I'm sure!" + +"I'll attend to them both when we get to Nantmyny," said Dr. Jones. + +"Keep her foot in that position, and be as quiet as possible, young +man," said the colonel, and Will, though he resented the tone and the +"young man," still felt a glow of satisfaction at the turn affairs had +taken. + +To have sat in the Nantmyny carriage! What a story to tell Ann and his +father! and Will felt as they drove through the lodge gates that the +charm of the situation outweighed the twinges of pain in his arm. + +Gwenda Vaughan, recovering a little, smiled at him gratefully. + +"Thank you so much for holding up my foot," she said. "It is easier +so. I am sorry you have hurt your wrist. Does it pain you much?" + +"Oh, 'tis nothing at all," said Will, not accustomed to think much of +slight wounds or bruises. + +On arriving at Nantmyny he assisted in carrying her into the house. + +"Now," said the doctor, when they had laid her on a couch, "let me see, +and I will look at your wrist afterwards. Young Owens of Garthowen, I +think--eh?" + +"Yes," said Will, quietly retreating into the background, while Colonel +Vaughan and the maids pressed round the sofa. He only waited until, +after a careful examination, the doctor said, "No bones broken, I'm +glad to say, only rather badly bruised," and then, leaving the room +unnoticed, found his way to the front door, and in a glow of excitement +walked back to Castell On. His arm was getting more painful, so on his +way through the town he called on Dr. Hughes, who was considered "the +people's" doctor, while Dr. Jones was more patronised by "the gentry." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +GARTHOWEN SLOPES + +Dr. Jones's visits to Nantmyny were very frequent during the following +week, for Gwenda's foot had been rather severely crushed, and the pain +was acute; but being a girl of great spirit she bore it patiently, +though it entailed many long hours of wearisome confinement to the +house and sofa. During these hours of enforced idleness, she indulged +in frequent "brown studies," for her firm and decided character was +curiously tinged with romance. She had received but a desultory +education; her uncle, though providing her amply with all the means of +learning, yet chafed continually against the application which was +necessary for her profiting by them. + +"Come out, child," he would call, standing outside the open window, his +jovial face broadening into a smile of blandishment, most aggravating +to Miss Howells, who, inside the window, was trying to fix her pupil's +attention upon some subject of history or grammar. The rustling of the +brown leaves and the whispering of the wind in the trees added their +own enticements, which required all Gwenda's firmness to resist. + +"No, uncle," she would say, shaking her finger at him. "Yesterday and +Monday you made me neglect my studies. You mustn't come again this +week to tempt me out. I have promised Miss Howells to be industrious. +It will soon be four o'clock, and then I will come." + +And her uncle had perforce to be content, for at Nantmyny there was no +doubt that Gwenda "ruled the roost." Somehow she emerged from the +stage of girlhood with a fair amount of knowledge, although her +mother's sisters, the two Miss Gwynnes of Pentre, were much +dissatisfied with her want of what they called "polish." + +"She'll never make a good match," they were wont to say, "never! That +plain outspokenness is all very well in a man, or even in an old woman, +but it's very unbecoming in a girl, and I'm sure it will ruin her +prospects." And on the subject of her "prospects" they were accustomed +to dilate so continually and so earnestly that Gwenda had a shrinking +dislike to the word, as well as to the subject to which it referred. + +"We must really speak to her again, Maria, for of course George may +marry some day, and then what would become of her prospects?" And +another lecture was prepared for Gwenda. + +A few days after the accident which made her a prisoner, lying on the +sofa in the morning-room she had fallen into a deep reverie, which had +caused quite a pucker between her eyebrows. Being naturally a +romantic, sentimental girl, she mentally resented the sordid necessity +so continually urged by her aunts of making a "good match." It was in +Gwenda to cast all their prudent manoeuvres to the winds, and to follow +the bent of her own inclinations; but it was in her also to immolate +herself entirely upon the altar of an imagined duty. She chafed +somewhat at the want of freedom in her surroundings, her aunts +declaring it was incumbent upon her to please her uncle by marrying +well, and as soon as possible. And all these restrictions galled the +young lady, in whom the romantic dreams of the natural woman were +calling loudly for fulfilment. Perhaps these feelings would account +for the little look of worry and discontent in her face on the Sunday +morning while her uncle lingered round her sofa. + +"Well, I'm sorry to leave you alone, Gwenda; but here are the +magazines, and I'll soon be back. I don't like the Nantmyny pew to be +empty, you know. Good-bye." + +When the sounds of the carriage-wheels had died away, Gwenda took up +one of the magazines and turned over the pages listlessly. She sighed +a little wearily, and fell asleep--a sleep which lasted until her uncle +returned from church, and came blustering into the room. + +"Well, pommy word, child, I think you have had the best of it this +morning. Price the vicar didn't preach. Some Jones of Llan something, +and you never heard such a rhodomontade in your life; but I went to +sleep and escaped the worst of it--all about mortar, give you my word +for it, Gwenda, and about not putting enough cowhair in the mortar." + +"Really!" she said, yawning. "No wonder you went to sleep. Were the +Williamses there?" + +"Yes, and the Griffiths of Plasdu, and the Henry Reeses, and Captain +Scott is staying with them. Well, I'm going to have a smoke." But at +the door he turned round with a fresh bit of news. "Oh, what d'ye +think, Gwenda? A young man stood up to read the lessons, and I +couldn't for the life of me remember where I'd seen him before, and I +bothered my brains about it all through the sermon till I fell asleep. +After service I asked Price the vicar, and who should he be but that +young fellow who tackled the bull the other day? Pommy word, he's a +fine-looking fellow; got his arm in a sling, though." And he went out +banging the door. + +Gwenda pondered with a brightening look in her face. + +The young man who seized the bull! How strange! Reading the lessons! +What was the meaning of that? And with his arm in a sling! It must +have really required attention when he disappeared so mysteriously the +other day. Handsome? Yes, he was very handsome. That broad white +forehead crowned with its tawny clumps of hair! She would like to +thank him once more, for he had certainly saved her life. She rang the +bell, and a maid appeared. + +"Lewis, can you tell me who that man was who seized the bull the other +day?" + +"'Twas young Owens Garthowen, miss." + +"My uncle says he read the lessons in church to-day." + +"Yes, I daresay indeed, miss. He's going to be a clergyman, they say. +He hurt his arm shocking the other day, miss, because he went to Dr. +Hughes on his way from here, and he is keeping it in a sling ever +since." + +"Where does he live?" + +"Oh, about three miles the other side of Castell On, miss, towards the +sea. 'Tis an old grey farmhouse, very old, they say; 'tis on the side +of the hill towards the sea, very high up, too. 'Tis very windy up +there, I should think." + +Here the colonel entered again. + +"Lewis tells me, uncle, that young man who read the lessons is going to +enter the Church." + +"Shouldn't wonder at all; every Cardiganshire farmer tries to send one +son to the Church. There's Dr. Owen, now, he was a farmer's son. +Bless my soul! Why, he is this young man's uncle! Never thought of +that! Of course. He's own brother to Ebben Owens, Garthowen. I don't +think he keeps up any acquaintance with them, though, and, of course, +nobody alludes to them in his presence. I daresay he will take this +young man in hand and we shall have him canon or archdeacon or bishop +very soon." + +This was something more for Gwenda to ponder over, and before the day +was ended she had woven quite a halo of romance round Will's +unconscious head. + +"Shouldn't we send to ask how his arm is, uncle?" + +"Yes; pommy word we ought to. I am going to the meet to-morrow at +Plasdu, 'twill be very little out of my way to go up to the farm and +ask how the young fellow is." + +The next afternoon when he returned from the hunt, he brought a fresh +item of news for his niece, for he pitied the girl lying there +inactive, a state of existence which above all others would have galled +him beyond measure. + +"I called up at the farm, Gwenda, and saw our young friend with the +lion locks. He was crossing the farmyard with a book under his arm, +which was still in a sling, but when I asked him about it he only +laughed (splendid teeth all those Garthowens have, old Ebben's even are +perfect)! He said his arm was quite well and he didn't know why Dr. +Hughes insisted upon keeping it in a sling. If he could only be sure, +he said, that the young lady's foot was not giving her more pain than +he felt he would be glad. I told him your foot was painful, but would +soon be all right. Well-spoken young man. By the by, all the men on +the field asked after you, and most of them said that was a brave +fellow who sprang at the bull. I told them it was one of Ebben Owens's +sons. Everybody knows him, you know. Very old family. At one time, I +am told, the Garthowen estate was a large one. Griffiths Plasdu's +grandfather bought a great deal of it, all that wooded land lying this +side of the moor. By the by, Captain Scott is coming round this way to +dine with us to-morrow and to stay the night. Pommy word, child, I +think he has taken a fancy to you. He seemed quite anxious about you. +Good-bye, my dear, I must go." + +Gwenda turned her face to the window. The black elm branches swayed +against the evening sky, a brilliant star glittered through them, a +rising wind sighed mournfully and the girl sighed too. + +"Yes, Captain Scott no doubt was interested in her, probably he would +propose to her, and if he did, probably she would accept him, with all +his money, his starting eyes, and his red nose! How dull and +uninteresting life is," she said. "I wonder what we are born for?" + + * * * * * * + +At Garthowen the stream of life was flowing on smoothly just then. +Will was happy and content. He had read the lessons on Sunday to Mr. +Price's entire satisfaction, clearly and with an evident understanding +of their meaning. Sometimes the roll of the "r's" and the lengthening +of the "o's" showed the Welshman's difficulty in pronouncing the +English tongue, but upon the whole, the accent was wonderfully good. +Above all things Will had taken pains to acquire the English tone of +speech, for he was sufficiently acute to know that however learned a +Welshman may be, his chances of success are seriously minimised by a +Welsh accent, therefore he had paid much attention to this point. + +"The time is drawing near, father," he said one day. "I am determined +to go to Llaniago, and if you can't pay I must get the money somewhere +else, that's all," and he had risen from the table with that wilful, +dogged curve on his mouth which his father knew so well, and had always +been so weakly unable to resist. + +"Twt, twt, my boy," he said, "that will be all right; don't you vex +about that." + +And thus reassured, Will gladly banished the disquieting doubt from his +mind, and his good humour returned. + +Gethin seemed to fall naturally into his place as eldest son of the +family, taking to the farm work with zeal and energy, and making up for +his want of experience by his complete devotion to his work. + +Ann was calm and serene as usual, happy in her brother's prospects, and +deeply interested in the grey stone house which the congregation at +Penmorien were building for their minister. + +Gwilym Morris devoted himself entirely to Will's preparations for his +entrance examination. + +And for Morva, what had the autumn brought? A rich, full tide of life +and happiness. Every morning she rose with the sun, and as she opened +the door and let in the scent of the furze and the dewy grass, her +whole being responded to the voice of Nature around her. She was +constantly running backwards and forwards between Garthowen and the +cottage. Nothing went well at the farm without her, and in the cottage +there were a score of things which she loved to do for Sara. There +were the fowls to be fed, the eggs to be hunted for, the garden to be +weeded, the cottage to be cleaned, Sara's knitting to be set straight, +the herbs to be dried and sorted and tied up in bundles under the brown +rafters. Oh, yes! every day brought for Morva its full harvest of +lovely scenes, of beautiful sounds, and sweet scents. Certainly, Will +was a little cold and irritable lately, but she was well used to his +variable humours, and somehow the home-coming of Gethin had filled the +only void there had been in her life, though of that she had scarcely +been conscious. There was hardly an hour in the day when Morva's song +might not be heard filling the autumn air with melody, for how could +she help singing as she sat knitting on the moorside while she watched +the cattle, and kept them from roaming too near the edge of the cliff. + +On the brow of the hill Gethin was harrowing. His lively whistle +reached her on the breeze, and she would look up at him as he passed +along the skyline, and rejoice once more that he had returned to make +their lives complete, to fill Ann's heart with happiness, and his +father's with content; for the girl, generally so clear-sighted, so +free from guile or pretence, was deceiving herself utterly, and +imagined that the increased joy and glory of life which had permeated +her whole being since Gethin's return, arose only from the deep +interest she took in every member of the Garthowen family, and was due +solely to the happiness which the return of the wanderer naturally +evoked. Was not Gethin Will's brother? had she not every reason to be +glad in his return to the old home? her playmate, the friend of her +childhood? and she gave herself up unrestrainedly to the happiness +which brooded over every hour of her life. + +To Gethin, too, the world seemed to have changed to a paradise. Every +day, every hour drew him closer to Morva; in her presence he was lost +in a dream of happiness, in her absence she was ever present like a +golden vision in his mind. Will's manner towards the girl being +intentionally formal and distant, had completely blinded his brother to +the true state of affairs, and though his daily intercourse with Morva +seemed to him almost too delightful to last, he followed blindly the +chain that was binding him continually more closely to her. + +"Art not going to the market to-day?" he shouted out to her one morning +as he drove the horses over the moor. + +"No," called Morva in return. + +"Will and Gwilym Morris are gone," he shouted again, beginning his way +towards her between the low gorse bushes. "Art watching the sheep, +lass?" + +"No; 'tis the calves who will stray to the bog over yonder. Indeed, +they are wilful, whatever, for the grass down here is much sweeter. +There they go again--see!" and Gethin helped her with whoop and halloo, +and many devious races of circumvention to recover them. "Oh, anwl, +they are like naughty children," she said, sitting down, exhausted with +laughter and running, Gethin flinging himself beside her, and picking +idly at the gorse blossoms which filled the air with their rich perfume. + +The clear, blue autumn sky was over them, the deep blue sea stretched +before them, the larks sang overhead, the sheep bleated on the moor, +and in the grass around them the dewdrops sparkled in the morning sun. + +"'Tis a fair world," said Morva; "didst ever see more beautiful sea or +land than ours in all thy voyages, Gethin?" + +"Brighter, grander, warmer, but more beautiful--none, Morva. Indeed to +me, since I've come home, every day seems happier and more +beautiful--and thou, too, Morva. I think by that merry song thou wert +singing thou art not very unhappy." + +"Well, indeed, 'twas not a very happy song," said the girl, "but I +suppose I was putting my own foolishness into it." + +"Wilt sing it again, lass?" + +"Wilt sing, too?" + +"Oh, dei anwl, yes; there's no song ever reaches my ears but I must +join in it. Come, sing on." + +And Morva sang again, Gethin's rich tones blending with hers in full +harmony. This time she was awake, and realised the sorrow of the words. + +"Well, no," said Gethin, "'tis not a very merry thing, indeed, to set +your heart upon winning a maiden, and to lose her as that poor fellow +did. But, Morva," he said, tossing the gorse blossoms on her lap, +"'tis a happy thing to love and to be loved in return." + +"Yes, perhaps," said the girl, thinking of Will, and wondering why, +though he loved her so much, there was always a shadow hanging over her +affection for him. + +Gethin longed to break the silence which fell over them, but a nervous +fear deterred him, a dread of spoiling the happy freedom of their +intercourse--a nameless fear of what her answer might be; so he put off +the hour of certainty, and seized the joys of hope and delight which +the present yielded him. + +"Where's thy necklace, Morva?" + +"'Tis at home in the box. Mother says a milkmaid should not wear such +beautiful things every day, and on Sunday the girls and boys would +stare at me if I wore them to chapel." + +"What art keeping them for, then?" said Gethin. "For thy wedding-day?" + +"That will be a long time; oh, no, before then very often I will wear +it, now when I'm at home alone, and sometimes when the sun is gone down +I love to feel it on my neck; and I go up to the moor sometimes and +peep at myself in the bog pools just to see how it looks. There's a +foolish girl I am!" + +What a day of delight it was! The browns of autumn tingeing the moor, +the very air full of its mellow richness, the plash of the waves on the +rocks below the cliffs, the song of the reapers coming on the breeze, +oh, yes, life was all glorious and beautiful on the Garthowen slopes +just then. + +"To-morrow night is the 'cynos.'[1] Wilt be there, Morva?" asked +Gethin. + +"Well, yes, of course," answered the girl, "and 'tis busy we'll be with +only Ann and me and the men-servants, for Will never goes to the cynos; +he doesn't like farm work, and now he's studying so hard and all +'twould be foolish for him to sit up all night." + +"I will be there, whatever," said Gethin. + +"Wilt indeed?" and a glow of pleasure suffused her face. "There's +going to be fun there, they say, for Jacob the miller is going to ask +Neddy 'Pandy' to dance the 'candle dance,' and Robin Davies the sailor +will play the fiddle for him. Hast ever seen the candle dance?" + +"No," said Gethin, his black eyes fixed on the girl's beautiful face, +which filled his mind to the exclusion of what she was saying. + +"'Tis gone out of fashion long ago, but Jacob the miller likes to keep +up the old ways." + +"The candle dance," said Gethin absently, "what is it like?" + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, shyly bending her head under his ardent +gaze, "thee wilt see for thyself; I have dropped a stitch." + +A long silence followed while the stitch was recovered, and the furze +blossoms came dropping into her lap, into her hair, and on to her neck. +She laughed at last, and sprang up tossing them all to the ground. + +"The calves! the calves!" she cried, and once more both ran in pursuit +of the wilful creatures. + +So simple a life, so void of all that is supposed to make life +interesting, and yet so full of love and health and happiness that the +memory of it was impressed upon the minds of both for the rest of their +lives. Yes, even in old age they called it to mind with a pensive +tenderness, and a lingering longing, and the words, "There's happy we +were long ago on the Garthowen slopes!" + +Before he went to market in the morning Will had sought out Morva as +she sat on her milking-stool, leaning her head on Daisy's flank, and +milking her to the old refrain: + + "Troodi, Troodi! come down from the mountain! + Troodi, Troodi! come up from the dale!" + + +"I want to see thee, Morva; wilt meet me beyond the Cribserth to-night? +'Twill be moonlight. I will wait for thee behind the broom bushes on +the edge of the cliff." + +"Yes, I will come." + +Will was looking his best, a new suit of clothes made by a Caer-Madoc +tailor, the first of the kind he had ever had, set off his handsome +figure to advantage, his hat pushed back showed the clumps of red gold +hair, the blue eyes, and the mouth with its curves of Cupid's bow. +Yes; certainly Will was a handsome man. + +"There's smart thou art," said Morva, with a mischievous smile. + +"'Tis my new suit; they are pretty well," said Will. + +"And what are those? Gloves again! oh, anwl! indeed, it is time thee +and me should part," and rising from her stool she curtseyed low before +him with a little sarcasm in her looks and voice. + +"Part, Morva--never!" said Will. "Remember tonight." + +Morva nodded and bent to her work again, and the white sunbonnet leant +against Daisy once more, and the sweet voice sang the old melody. When +her pail was full she sighed as she watched Gwilym Morris and Will +disappear through the lane to the high road. + + + +[1] The annual corn-grinding. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE NORTH STAR + +Ebben Owens was going to market in his rough jolting car, Dyc "pigstye" +beside him, both dressed in their best frieze. In the back of the car, +covered over with a netting, lay three small pigs, who grunted and +squealed in concert when a rough stone gave them an extra jolt. In the +crowded street at Castell On, where the bargaining was most vigorous, +and the noise of the market was loudest, he stopped and unharnessed +Bowler, who had "forged" into town with great swinging steps and much +jingling of buckles and chains. + +Having led him into the yard of the Plough Inn, he returned, and with +Dyc's help proceeded to lift out the pigs and carry them to the pen +prepared for them in the open street, Dyc taking them by the ears and +Ebben Owens by the tail. Now, pigs have remonstrated loudly against +this mode of conveyance for generations, but nobody seems to have +listened to their expostulations. They are by no means light and airy +creatures, indeed, for their size, they are of considerable weight, so +why they of all other animals should be picked out for this summary +mode of transport is difficult to understand. At any rate the +Garthowen pigs resented it warmly, and the air was rent with their +shrieks as Will and Gwilym Morris came upon the scene. Ebben Owens +almost dropped his pig in the delight of seeing his son in his new +clothes. Will nodded smilingly at him, while keeping at a respectable +distance from the shrieking animals, and the old man was filled with a +glow of pride and happiness which threw a _couleur de rose_ over +everything for the rest of the day. In truth, Morgan Jones of Bryn +made an easy bargain with him for those pigs, and Ebben went home in +the evening with ten shillings less in his pocket than he meant to have +had when he started from home. + +"Look you here," he said to Ann and Gethin, who both hovered round him +on his return with loving attentions, "look you here now; wasn't a +gentleman in the market looking smarter than our Will to-day! There +was the young son of Mr. Vaughan the lawyer, was dressed like him +exactly--same brown hat, same grey suit, and his boots not shining so +well as Will's! Caton pawb! there's handsome he was! Shouldn't wonder +if he didn't marry a lady some day, with plenty of money!" + +"Shouldn't wonder, indeed," said Gethin, clapping him on the back; "and +there's proud he'll be to drive his old father to church with him!" + +"Hech! hech! hech!" laughed the old man, sitting down and rubbing his +knees. "Well, indeed, he's a fine boy, whatever!" + +"Wasn't Gwilym there?" asked Ann. + +"Yes, yes, to be sure, and he is looking very nice always; but I didn't +notice him much today." + +Meanwhile, in the town, Will and Gwilym had much to do; there were +books to be got--there was a horse to be looked at for the farm--and, +moreover, Will was to call upon Mr. Price the vicar, so the hours +passed quickly away, until late in the afternoon when the crowd was a +little thinning, the Nantmyny carriage passed through the street, +within it Colonel Vaughan and his niece. Will saw it at once, and +turned away to avoid recognition--for although nothing would have +pleased him more, he was a man of great tact and common sense, and +never spoiled a good chance by indiscreet intrusion. As he turned +away, Colonel Vaughan caught sight of him, and, stopping the carriage, +beckoned to a bystander, who touched his hat with a knobbed stake from +the hedge. + +"Isn't that young Owens of Garthowen?" + +"Iss, sare," said the man, knocking his hat again. + +"Ask him to come here, then." + +And Will came, not too hurriedly, and with assumed nonchalance. + +"Well, young man," said the colonel, "I want to know how your arm is?" + +"It is quite well, thank you," said Will, carefully studying his +accent. "I hope," he added, taking off his hat and turning to Gwenda, +who sat up interested, "I hope you are no longer suffering pain?" + +"Very little, thank you. I am so glad your arm is well again, and I am +glad to have this opportunity of thanking you." + +And as Will prepared to withdraw again, lifting his hat and showing his +tawny locks and his white teeth, Miss Vaughan placed her hand in his +with a friendly good-bye. + +The old colonel winced a little. + +"I don't think you need have shaken hands with him, child; however, it +was very nice of you, and I've no doubt it will please the young man +very much. I declare he looks like a gentleman." + +"And speaks like one," said Gwenda. + +"Yes; pommy word I don't know what's the world coming to!" + +"Very nice people those Vaughans, I should think," said Gwilym Morris, +as he and Will tramped homewards in the evening. + +"H'm! yes," said Will; "I daresay they thought they were honouring me +very much by their notice; but, mind you, Gwilym, in a few years I'll +show them I can hold up my head with any of them." + +"Will," said Gwilym, after a pause, "I am afraid for you, lad; I am +afraid of what the world will make of you. At Garthowen, with nothing +but the simple country ways around us, we escape many temptations; but +once we enter the world outside, even here in the market it reaches us, +that subtle insidious glamour which incites us, not to become what we +ought to be, but to appear different to what we are in reality." + +"I can't follow you," said Will. "I suppose it is every man's duty to +try and get on as far as he can in the path of life which he has +chosen. I have chosen mine, and I don't mean to leave a stone unturned +which may help me on. Yon can't blame me for that, Gwilym." + +"No, no! I suppose not; and yet--and yet--" + +"And yet what?" asked Will irritably. + +"You may get to the very top of the ladder, and then find it has not +been leaning against the right wall. That would be a poor success, +Will." + +"Well, well!" he said, as they entered the farmyard, "what's the matter +with you to-night? You wait a few years, give me only a chance, and +you'll be proud of your old pupil." + +When they had separated, Gwilym looked after him thoughtfully. + +"I wonder will I, indeed!" he said. + + * * * * * * + +It was late in the evening when Morva made her way to the cliffs to +meet her lover. The moor was bathed in a flood of silver moonlight, +the sea below was lighted up by the same serene effulgence, and the +silence of night was only broken by the trickle of the mill stream down +in the valley, the barking of the dogs on the distant farms, and the +secret scurry of a rabbit under the furze bushes. + +As she neared the edge of the cliff, the peace and beauty of the scene +impressed her eye but did not reach her heart, which was beating with a +strange unrest. + +In the dark shadow of the crags on the cliff side Will was waiting for +her. He had been there some time, and was a little nettled at her +delay. + +"Where hast been, Morva?" he said, stretching out his hand and drawing +her towards him in the shadow. "Come out of the moonlight, lass. +There is Simon 'Sarndu' fishing down there with Essec Jones; they will +see thee." + +"Well, indeed," said the girl, "what is the good of our going on like +this? It will be a weariness to thee to be always hiding thy--thy--" + +"My love for thee? No, Morva, 'tis all the sweeter to me that nobody +guesses it. And nobody must guess it; and that's what I wanted to +speak to thee about. When a man begins his life in earnest, and takes +his place in the outside world, he must be careful, Morva--careful of +every step--and must act very differently to those who mean to spend +their lives in this dull corner of the world." + +"Dull corner!" said Morva. "To me it seems the one bright spot in the +whole world, and as if no other place were of any consequence. I'm +sure if I ever leave here, I will be pining for the old home, the +lovely moor, and the sea and the cliffs. Oh! I can never, never be +happy anywhere else!" + +"Twt, twt," said Will, "thou art talking nonsense. When I send for +thee to come and live with me in a beautiful home, thou wilt be happy. +But listen, girl! Is thy love for me strong enough and true enough to +bear what may look like neglect and forgetfulness? For a time, Morva, +I want to break away from thee, lest any whispers of my love for thee +should get abroad. It would blast my success in life, 'twould ruin my +prospects if it were known that I courted my father's shepherdess, and +so, for a time I want to drop all outward connection with thee. Canst +bear that, Morva, and still be true to me?" + +"I don't know," said the girl. + +"Canst not believe that I shall love thee as much as ever, and more +fervently perhaps than ever?" + +"I will try," said Morva; "but I think thou art making a hard path for +thyself and me. 'Twould be better far to drop me out of thy life, then +thou couldst climb the uphill road without looking back." + +"And leave thee free to marry another man? Never, Morva! I claim thy +promise. Remember when thou wast a little girl how I made thee point +up to the North Star and promise to marry me some day." + +"Indeed the star is not there to-night, whatever." + +"It is there, Morva, only the moonlight is too bright for thee to see +it. It is there unchangeable, as thou hast promised to be to me." + +"Yes, I have promised; what more need be?" + +"Yes, more; thou must tell me again to-night, Morva, that thou wilt be +true to me whatever happens--whatever thou mayst hear about me--that +thou wilt still believe that in my heart I love thee and thee only. +Dost hear, girl--_whatever_ thou dost hear?" + +"I will believe nothing I may hear against thee, Will; nothing at all. +But when I see with my own eyes that thou art weary of me and art +ashamed of me, _then_ remember I am free." + +"But thine eyes may deceive thee." + +"I will swear by _them_, whatever," said Morva, with spirit. + +Will sighed sentimentally. + +"What a fate mine is! to be torn like this between my desire to rise in +the world and my love for a girl in a--in a humbler position than that +to which I aspire!" + +"Oh, Will bach! thou art getting to talk so grand, and to look so +grand. Take my advice and drop poor Morva of the moor!" + +"I will not!" said Will. "I will rise in the world, and I will have +thee too! Listen to me, lass, I am full of disquiet and anxiety, and +thou must give me peace of mind and confidence to go on my path +bravely." + +"Poor Will!" said the girl, looking pensively out over the shimmering +sea. + +"Once more, Morva, dost love me?" + +"Oh, Will, once more, yes! I love thee with all my heart, thee and +everyone at Garthowen." + +"Well," said Will, "we have been kind to thee ever since thou wast cast +ashore by the storm. It would be cruel and ungrateful to return our +kindness by breaking my heart." + +"Oh, I will never, Will; I will never do that! Be easy, have faith in +me, and I will be true to my promise." + +"Wilt seal it with a kiss, then?" + +Morva was very chary of her kisses, but to-night she let him draw her +closer to him; while he pressed a passionate kiss upon her lips. There +was no answering fervour on her part, but she went so far as to smooth +back the thick hair which shaded his forehead and to press a light kiss +upon his brow. + +"Well done!" said Will, with a laugh, "that is the first time thou hast +ever given me a kiss of thine own accord. I must say, Morva; thou art +as sparing of thy kisses as if thou wert a princess. Well, lass, we +must part, for to-morrow I am going to Llaniago to see about my rooms, +and there's lots to do to-night, so good-bye." + +And once more holding her hand in his, he kissed her, and left her +standing behind the broom bushes. She passed out into the moonlight, +and walked slowly back over the moor with her head drooping, an unusual +thing for Morva, for from childhood she had had a habit of looking +upwards. Up there on the lonely moor, the vault of heaven with its +galaxy of stars, its blue ethereal depths, its flood of silver +moonlight, or its breadth of sunlit blue, seemed so closely to envelop +and embrace her that it was impossible to ignore it; but to-night she +looked only at the gossamer spangles on her path. + +"What did Will mean by 'We must part! Whatever thou mayst hear!'" and +she sighed a little wearily as she lifted the latch of the cottage door. + +"Morva sighing!" said Sara, who sat reading her chapter by the +fireside. "Don't begin that, 'merch i, or I must do the same. I would +never be happy, child, if thou wert not happy too; we are too closely +knit together." + +And she took the girl's strong, firm hand in her own, so frail, so +slender, and so soft. Morva's eyes filled with tears. + +"Mother, I am happy, I think. Why should I not be? They are all so +kind to me at Garthowen, and I love them all so much. I would lay my +life down for them, mother, and still be happy!" + +"Yes, child, I believe thou wouldst. Come to supper, the cawl is +ready." + +"Tis the cynos to-morrow night, mother, will I go?" + +"Yes, of course; I wouldn't have thee go to the cynos of any other +farm; there is too much foolishness going on." + +"Robin Davies, the sailor, is going to bring his fiddle, and there will +be fun, but Ann will not allow any foolishness." + +"No, no," said Sara, "she's a sensible girl, and going to be married to +Gwilym Morris too! that will be a happy thing for her I think." + +Morva was silent, following her own train of thoughts while she ate her +barley bread and drank her cawl, and when she broke the silence with a +remark about Will, to both women it came naturally, as the sequence of +their musings. + +"Will is going away to-morrow, mother." + +"Away to-morrow! so soon?" + +"Only for a day or two, I think." + +"Was that the meaning of the sigh then, Morva?" + +"I don't know," said the girl, pensively chasing a fly with her finger +on the table. "Oh, mother! I don't know, it is all a turmoil and +unrest of thoughts here," and she drew her hand over her forehead. + +"Well, never mind that, 'merch i, if it is rest and happiness _here_," +and Sara laid her finger on the region of Morva's heart. "Tell me +that, child; is it rest and love there?" + +"Oh! I don't know, mother; I don't know indeed, indeed." + +And then she did what Sara had scarcely ever seen her do since she had +"gone into long frocks and turned her hair up," she crossed her arms on +the table, and leaning her head upon them, she sobbed, and sobbed, and +sobbed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE CYNOS + +In the old grey mill in the gorge, which ran up the moor about half a +mile beyond Sara's cottage, there was a "sound of revelry by night," +for the Garthowen "cynos" was in full swing. It bid fair to be the +merriest, heartiest cynos of the year, and Jacob the miller was in his +element. + +As Morva came down the side of the moor after supper, the enlivening +sounds which greeted her ear hastened her steps and quickened the blood +in her veins. + +Will's absence, though unconsciously, was a relief to her, and in the +morning when, on rising, she had opened the cottage door, disclosing to +view all the charms of the autumn day, its glow of crimson bramble, its +glory of furze and heather, against the blue of the sea, her spirits +had risen with a bound, and the sadness of the evening before had at +once taken flight. For in the elasticity of youth, the hand of sorrow +has but to be removed for a moment and the flowers of hope and +happiness rise with unimpaired freshness and vigour; not so when age +draws near, then the heavy hand may be lifted, and the crushed flowers +of happiness may slowly revive and open once more, but there is a +bruise on the stem and a stain on the petals which remain. + +Ebben Owens and Ann had all day been busy with the preparations for the +cynos. Gethin's whistle came loud and clear from the brow of the hill. +It had been a happy day for every one, so Morva thought, knowing +nothing of the anxiety which her burst of sorrow on the previous +evening had awakened in her foster-mother's heart. Sara's love for her +adopted child, who had come to her when her mother's heart was crying +aloud in its bereavement, had in it not only tenderness deep as a +mother's, but also that keen intuition and sensitiveness to every +varying mood and feeling of the loved one, which is the bitter +prerogative of all true love. So, while Morva had gone singing to her +milking, Sara had walked in her herb garden, musing somewhat sadly. +There was neither sorrow nor anxiety in the girl's heart as she +hastened her steps down the side of the gorge. She saw the twinkling +light in the window of the old mill kitchen, she heard the trickling of +the stream, and the sound of laughter and merry voices which issued +from the wide open mill door. + +When she arrived there was Gethin busy with the sacks of corn, there +was the hot kiln upon which the grain would be roasted, while ranged +round it stood the benches which Jacob had prepared for the company. + +Already some of the young men and girls from the surrounding farms were +dropping in to share in the evening's amusement and work. Shan, the +miller's wife, was busy in the old kitchen with preparations for the +midnight meal. Ebben Owens had caused a small cask of beer to be +tapped, and Jacob was unremitting in his attentions to it during the +night. + +"Garthowen's is worth calling a cynos," he said. "He doesn't forget +how the flour gets into one's throat and makes one thirsty. I'm no +Blue Ribbonite, no, not I, nor intend to be, and that's why I try +always to make the Garthowen cynos a jolly one." + +"Yes, yes," said Shan, "you needn't trouble to tell me the reason; I +know it well now these many years." + +When Morva entered she was warmly greeted by all. The farm lads +particularly were loud in their welcome. + +"Come in, lass, where'st been lately? We haven't seen thee a long +time." + +"Well, indeed, I've been on the moor every day with the calves or the +sheep; they are grazing there now." + +Everyone said something except Gethin, who only glanced at her with a +smile and a sparkle of black eyes, for he had seen her many times +during the day, and he was already, according to the fashion of his +country, beginning to hide his love under an outward appearance of +stolid indifference; but this did not offend Morva, for it saved her +from the ordeal of curious eyes and broad comments, and Gethin felt +that the tender flower of love was well shielded from rude contact with +the outside world, by the secrecy behind which a Welshman hides his +love, for, in a hundred ways unnoticed and unseen by those around him, +there were opportunities of apprising the girl of his constant and +watchful interest. How sweet was the chance touch of her brown fingers +in the course of the mill work. If her eyes met his, which they did +not often, how easy it was to send a meaning glance from his own! how +delightful to sit beside her in the circle round the glowing kiln! + +Robin Davies and Neddy "Pandy" were late, so to beguile the time Jacob +struck up a merry tune, the whole company joining in the chorus. Song +after song followed each other, interspersed with stories, some of old +times and traditions, others of modern adventures at market or fair, +until at midnight they all adjourned to the mill kitchen, where Shan +had prepared the usual meal of steaming coffee with bread and butter. +There was bread of all sorts, from the brown barley loaf to the creamy, +curled oatcake, flanked by piles of the delicious tea-cakes for which +Pont-y-fro was noted. The men washed down their cakes with foaming +"blues" from the beer barrel. + +Robin Davies and Neddy "Pandy" arrived just in time for the coffee, and +when the meal was over they all returned to the kiln room, where the +air was filled with the aroma of the roasting corn. + +It was only at such gatherings as these that Neddy ever experienced the +full enjoyments of life, for he was a homeless wanderer from place to +place. + +Nature had been bountiful to him in the matter of bodily size and +strength, but she had not been correspondingly generous in her +allotment of mental capacities. No one knew anything of his parentage +or birthplace. Nobody cared sufficiently to inquire, and no one knew +of his weary hours of tramping over moor and mountain, led only by some +stray rumour of a fair or festive gathering, at which he might at least +for a few hours enjoy the pleasures of a "blue" of beer, a cheerful +greeting, and a seat in the chimney-corner, in return for a song, or a +turn at the "candle-dance," for which he was famous. He had called at +the old mill the week before, and Jacob had engaged his services for +the coming cynos. He had spent the day on board the _Speedwell_, where +Robin Davies was mate, and had had a good rest and a feast of music, +for Robin was a genius, and played his fiddle with wonderful taste and +skill, and Neddy, though wanting in many things, was behind no one in +his love for and appreciation of music. He was therefore unusually +bright and fresh when he arrived at the mill. He and Robin had walked +up all the way from Abersethin through the surf, carrying their shoes +under their arms. + +"'Twill freshen thy feet, and make them hard for the candles," said +Robin. + +Neddy's thin haggard face, surmounted by a thick crop of grizzled curly +hair, lighted up with pleasure as he felt the warm air of the roasting +room. + +"Here, sit down by the kiln, man," said Gethin, "and rest a bit before +thou begin'st." + +"Yes, and sing us 'Aderin pur'," said Jacob, "'twill prepare the air +for the dancing." + +And Neddy struck up at once. He never required pressing, for his songs +seemed always on his lips. He sang his ballads as he passed through +the country towns and villages, and the people came out and pressed +pennies into his hand, or invited him into their houses for a rest, a +hunch of bread and cheese, or a bowl of cawl; and he sang as he tramped +over the lonely hillsides, sometimes weary and faint enough, but still +singing; and when at night he retired to rest in some hay-loft or barn, +or perhaps alone under the starry night sky, he was wont to sing +himself to sleep, as he had done when a child in the old homestead of +which nobody knew. + +When he began the words of the song so sweet to every Welshman's ear: + + "Oh! lovely bird with azure wing + Wilt bear my message to her?" + +every ear was intent upon the melody, and as the rich sonorous voice +carried it on through its first fervid strains of love, to the +imploring cadences of the ending, heads and hands beat time, eyes +glistened, humid with feeling, and when the song had come to an end, +there was a breathless silence and a sigh of satisfaction. + +"There's lovely it is! Sing us again, Neddy bach." + +And Neddy sang again the song of the red-cheeked little prince, who +slept in his golden cradle, a red-cheeked apple in his hand. It was +but a simple nursery rhyme, but Neddy put his soul into it, for he was +but a child himself in spite of his tall stature and grizzled locks. + +Morva was sitting on the steps which led up to the rickety, windy loft, +Gethin beside her on an upturned barrow. + +"I might go on with my knitting," said the girl, "if somebody would +hold my skein for me to wind." + +Gethin held it, of course; and while the ball increased in size there +was plenty of time and opportunity for talk, which was interrupted by +Robin's fiddle striking up a merry jig time. Wool and ball were laid +aside, while Ann placed six lighted candles on the floor--four in the +centre and one at each end, with space enough between them for the +figures of the dance. + +Neddy listened a few moments, seemingly to get the rhythm well into his +mind; then starting up, and flinging his heavy shoes aside, he took his +place at the end of the space cleared for him, his ragged corduroy +trousers hanging in tatters round his bare ankles. With his thumbs in +the armholes of his waistcoat, he began the dance, singing all the time +an old refrain descriptive of its measure; keeping at a little distance +from the group of candles, but gradually approaching nearer and nearer, +and at length flinging his bare feet around the flaring lights. Round +them and over them, in between them and outside them, until it was a +mystery how the bare feet were not burnt and the ragged trousers did +not catch fire. Over and over again he stopped for breath, until the +loud stamping of feet and cries of applause, in which Tudor joined +vociferously, encouraged him to begin again. The music waxed faster +and faster, and Neddy danced with more marvellous rapidity, until he +seemed to lose himself in the intricate mazes of the dance. He was +pale, and beads of perspiration stood on his forehead, when at last, +with a trick of his bare foot, he extinguished every light, and +staggered to his seat in the corner by the kiln. + +"Hooray, Neddy! as good as ever he was! Well done, bachgen! fetch him +a 'blue.'" + +And Neddy, triumphant and thoroughly enjoying the cheering and _eclat_ +of his exploit, leant back panting to recover himself. + +"The corn! The corn!" said Ann, turning to the roasting-pan over the +kiln. "We mustn't forget that with our dancing and our singing, and +thee mustn't have another 'blue' yet, Neddy." + +"Oh, indeed 'tis wonderful!" said Morva. + +"Yes, 'tis a pretty dance indeed," said Gethin, "and something like the +sailor's hornpipe we used to dance on board ship sometimes." + +"Canst dance?" said the girl, with wide-open eyes of intense interest. + +"Well, yes--I was considered to have a pretty good foot for a fling." + +"Oh, dance!" said Morva, clasping her hands, "Ann, Ann, Gethin can +dance!" + +"But not in these boots," he said. + +"Oh, Gethin, try!" said his sister. + +"Well, if I had my shoes. Run, Grif, to Garthowen and fetch them." + +And in a short time the boy returned, bringing Gethin's best Sunday +shoes under his arm. + +The floor was cleared again, and everybody watched eagerly while the +sailor took his stand, with arms folded across his chest and head well +thrown back. + +"Now, Robin, a jig tune for me." + +"Yes, yes, the sailor's hornpipe proper," said Robin; and he struck up +the time with spirit, and Gethin began the dance with equal vigour. + +The company looked on with breathless admiration, Neddy with critical +nods of approval; but Morva's delight was indescribable. With +eagerness like a child's she followed every dash, every scrape, and +every fling of the dance, and when it was ended, and Gethin returned, +laughing and panting, to his seat on the barrow, alas! alas! he had +danced into her very heart. + +"Oh! there's handsome he is!" said Magw, the dairymaid, with a sigh; +and Morva echoed the sentiment, though she did not give it utterance. + +"Yes, 'twas very well," said Neddy; "but thee couldn't do it if thou +hadst the candles." + +"That I couldn't, Neddy; nobody but thee could," and the old man was +quite satisfied. + +In the early grey of the morning the stray visitors dropped off one by +one, and Neddy, having slept for an hour in his cosy corner, shook +himself awake and betook himself, crooning an old song, once more to +his solitary rambles over the hills. It was not until the sun had well +risen, and the whole remaining party had breakfasted together in the +mill kitchen, that the Garthowen household returned home, leading with +them the lumbering blue and scarlet carts, laden with the sacks of meal +sufficient for the coming year, Tudor following the procession with the +air of a dog who congratulates himself upon having brought affairs to a +satisfactory conclusion. Ebben Owens was already up to receive them, +the big oak coffers in the grain room were swept out, the dry meal +poured into them, and Twm the carter, with white cotton stockings kept +for the occasion drawn over his feet and legs, stood in the coffers +treading the meal into as hard a mass as possible. When they were full +to the brim the heavy lids were closed with a snap, and the Garthowen +cynos was over for the year. Afterwards the work of the farm went on +as usual, but there were many surreptitious naps taken during the day, +in hay loft or barn, or behind some sunny hedgerow or stack. + +Gwilym Morris and Will did not return that day, as had been expected. + +"Wilt stay a little later, Morva?" said Ann; "they may come by the +carrier at seven o'clock, and I will want to prepare supper for them." + +Morva's heart sank, but she made no outward sign; she had been full of +restless excitement all day, and had looked forward to the quiet of the +cottage under the furze bank, and to Sara's soothing company. + +All day she had been haunted by the memory of the sailor's hornpipe, +Gethin's flashing eyes, his handsome person, his supple limbs! She +tried to banish the vision and to turn her thoughts to Will, but found +it impossible! and she went about her work in a dream of happiness, +unwillingly recalling every word that Gethin had spoken, every hidden +compliment, and every look of tenderness. She avoided him when he +returned from the fields at midday, she trembled and blushed at the +sound of his name, and when he came home in the evening to his supper +she feigned some excuse and was absent from the evening meal; but when +at last Will's return was despaired of, and Morva took her way round +the Cribserth towards home, Gethin, no longer to be baulked, followed +her with rapid steps, and caught her up just as she turned the rugged +edge of the ridge. + +"Morva!" he called, and she turned at once and stood facing him in the +light of the full moon. + +She bent her head a little and let her arms fall at her sides, standing +like a culprit before his accuser. The attitude pained Gethin, whose +whole being was overflowing with tenderness. + +"Morva, lass! what is the matter? Where art going? Art running away +from _me_?" + +The girl raised her eyes to his, and in a low but firm voice answered, +"Yes." + +"Why? Why?" he asked, and taking her hands hastily he drew her away +from the path, and down to the shadow of a broom bush on the cliff side. + +She remembered it was the very bush behind which she had met Will two +evenings before. For a moment they were silent, both feeling too +agitated to speak. Beyond the shadow of the bushes the world lay +silent in the mellow moonlight, a soft breathing stole up to them from +the heaving sea below, a whispering breeze played on their faces, and +through it all the insidious glamour of the dance, which had enchanted +the simple rustic girl, wove like a silver thread. + +"Morva," he said at last, pressing the hand which he held in his, "thou +knowest well what I want to say. If I had learning like Will's now, I +would not be hunting for words like this, but indeed, lass, I am fair +doited with love of thee. Answer me, dost love me too? I think, +Morva," and he drew her closer, "I think thou dost not hate me?" + +"Oh, no," she whispered, "but--but--" and she slowly endeavoured to +withdraw from his detaining grasp, "but, Gethin, I am promised to Will." + +"What? What didst say, girl?" said Gethin, in an agitated voice. +"Thou hast promised to marry Will?" + +There was a long pause of silence, during which the lapping of the +waves on the beach, the rustle of the leaves in the bushes, together +with their own fluttering breaths, were distinctly audible. + +"Didst say that, Morva?" + +"Yes, indeed, 'tis true," said the girl, in a low voice. + +"But--but does Will love thee?" + +"Yes, he loves me," answered Morva sadly, but steadily, "and I love +him, and I must listen to no other man, for I have promised him." + +"Promised him! when?" said Gethin, trying to steady his voice. + +"Oh, many times, many times; two nights ago, here, under this very +broom bush, I promised to be true and unchangeable." + +"Is this true indeed, then? Hast promised thyself away from me?" said +Gethin, looking round as if dazed and stunned. + +"Yes," she answered again, in a low voice. "Will asked me if I loved +him, and I said 'Yes, I love thee with all my heart, and I love +everyone at Garthowen the same, and would willingly give my life for +them.'" + +"And what did he say to that?" asked Gethin in a scornful tone. + +"He said, 'twas right I should feel like that, for they had all been +kind to me, ever since the sea cast me up here, a little helpless baby; +and he said 'twould ill repay their kindness to break his heart." + +Gethin snatched at her hand hungrily. + +"Will I tell thee, lass, what I would have answered if I had been Will? +I would have said, 'Love me, Morva, _more_ than all the others at +Garthowen; love me more than all the world beside; love me as I love +thee, girl! Nothing less will satisfy me; no riches, no worldly goods, +no joy, no happiness will be of any account to me if I have not all thy +love.'" + +"Stop, Gethin, stop," said Morva, turning away. + +But Gethin continued, still detaining her hands in his, "That is what I +would have said, Morva, if I were Will. Canst say nothing to me, lass?" + +Morva had turned her face to the broom bush, and was sobbing with her +apron to her eyes. + +"Why didst thou promise him?" Gethin said again, in a fierce tone. + +"I promised him when I was a little girl, and ever since, whenever he +has asked me, I have said, 'Oh, Will, there is no need to say more, for +I have promised,'" and she turned slowly to move away; but Gethin drew +her back. + +"Thou shalt not go," he said; "I cannot live without thee; all through +the long years I too have loved thee, Morva, ever since that day when I +tore myself from thy clinging arms and heard thee crying after me; but +because I was away, and could not tell thee of my love, I have lost +thee." + +"I have promised," was all her answer. + +"Well, then, I suppose there is nothing else to be said, and I must +live without thee; but 'twill be hard, very hard, lass. I thought--I +thought--but there; what's the use of thinking? I suppose I must say +'Good-bye.' Wilt give me one kiss before we part? No? Well, indeed, +an unwilling kiss from Morva would kill me, so fforwel, lass! At least +shake hands." + +Morva turned towards him, placing her hand in his, and by the bright +moonlight he saw her face was very pale. + +"Fforwel!" he said once more, and dropping her hand, he left her +suddenly, standing alone under the night sky. She looked after him +until he had passed round the Cribserth, and then turned homewards with +a heavier heart than she had ever borne before. + +"'As the sparks fly upward!'" she whispered, as she reached the cottage +door, "Yes, mother was right, 'as the sparks fly upward!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +UNREST + +"Ach y fi!" said Ann one day as the autumn slipped by, "only a week +before Will goes; there's dull it will be without him!" + +"Twt, twt!" said Will, tossing his tawny mane, "'twill only be for +three months. Christmas will be here directly, and I will be home then +for the holidays--vacation, I mean." + +"Vacation; is that what they call it? Dear! dear! we must mind our +words now with a college man among us." + +Gethin seldom came into the house; from morning to night he worked hard +on the farm, and his father was obliged to confess that, after all his +roving, he showed more aptitude for steady work than Will did. When he +did enter the house, it was only to take his meals hurriedly and +silently, and if by chance he encountered Morva, as was unavoidable +sometimes in the day's work, he was careful not to look at her. The +girl, though conscious of his change of manner, showed no outward sign +of the acute suffering she was undergoing. Her whole life seemed +upturned, full of discordant elements and strained relations. To bear +Will's apparent indifference was not difficult, for she had been +accustomed to that all her life; but to know that she was bound to +him--that he still loved her, and would carry with him his faith and +trust in her, was a heavy burden. The change in Gethin's manner, the +averted look, the avoidance of her, the formal question or request, +were positively so many sharp thorns that pierced her like some +tangible weapon, and added to this was a deep regret that she was so +unworthy of Will's love. He did not ask her to meet him again behind +the broom bushes, and only one night in the old beudy,[1] where she had +carried a pail of grain to a sick cow, had he tried to speak to her +alone. Gethin, who watched his brother with eager interest, was +astonished at the indifference he showed towards her. + +Surely they must meet somewhere secretly! Well, what was it to him? +What was anything to him? For Morva's love he would willingly have +laid down his life; but now that that was denied him, nothing else was +of any consequence; and in troubled thought he sauntered out to cross +the farmyard on his way to Pont-y-fro. The moor beyond the Cribserth +he avoided carefully, and when his work led him along the brow of the +hill, he tried to avert his eyes as well as his thoughts from its +undulating knolls, a background, against which memory would picture a +winsome girl, red-cloaked and blue-kilted. + +Will had preceded him about a quarter of an hour, and had found Morva +pensively holding the empty pail before the cow, who had eaten up the +grain, and was licking round in search of more; she did not see him +until he was close upon her, and then she started from her dreams. + +"Oh, Will!" she said, and nothing more. + +"I wanted to see thee once more, lass, to say good-bye, and to remind +thee of thy promise." + +"You will be back before Christmas, Will, and we will be together +again." + +"Yes," he answered, "and then we must manage to meet sometimes, for I +find I cannot live without thee. I cannot break away from thee +entirely; but we must be careful, very, very careful. I would not have +anyone suspect our courtship for all the world. Thou wilt keep my +secret, Morva?" + +"Yes," she said wearily. + +"Come, cheer up, lass, 'twill soon be over. A year or two and I will +have a home for thee--I know I will. And now good-bye, I hear +footsteps. Good-bye, Morva." + +He clasped her once to his heart, and whispered a word of endearment in +her ear; but she stood like a statue, and only answered "Good-bye," and +even that he did not hear, for he had already slipped away, and by a +circuitous path reached the house. + +Crossing the farmyard, Gethin's approaching footsteps made but little +sound on the soft stubble; and Morva, thinking herself quite alone, +stood leaning just within the doorway, crying softly in the darkness, +for the flaring candle had gone out. + +"Who is there?" said Gethin. + +There was no answer, Morva checking her sobs, and standing perfectly +still. + +"Morva, is it thee crying here by thyself? What is it? Tell me, +child." + +"Oh! nothing," said the girl. "Only Will has been here." + +"Oh! I see," said Gethin bitterly, "to bid thee fforwel, I suppose. +Well, it won't be for long; he will be back soon, and then thou wilt be +happy, Morva." + +"Gethin, thee must promise me one thing." + +"And what is that?" he said. + +"Never to tell anyone what I told thee over yonder beyond the +Cribserth. Will wants it to be a secret." + +"Fear nothing," said Gethin, "I will never tell tales. Gethin Owens +has not many good qualities, but he has one, and that is, he would +never betray a trust, so be easy, Morva. I am going to Pont-y-fro. +Good-night!" + +"Good-night," echoed the girl, and, taking up her pail, she closed the +beudy door, and as she crossed the yard under the bright starlight she +recalled Gethin's parting words, "Be easy, Morva," and repeated them to +herself with a sorrowful smile. + + * * * * * * + +"'Tis Martinmas Fair to-morrow," said Ann, as Morva entered the best +kitchen. "Are you going, father?" + +"Yes," he said. "I have those yearlings to sell." + +"I will come with you," said Gwilym Morris, for they seldom let the old +man go alone. "I can see about Will's coat, and I want some books. +Come on, Ann, come with us; 'twill be a lively fair, I think." + +"Very well, I'll come and look after you both." + +"That's right," said the old man, rubbing his knees. "Twm will drive +the yearlings. Art coming, Will?" + +"No," he answered, "I have promised to go to Caer-Madoc to-morrow." + +And so Garthowen was empty next day, for Gethin did not return to the +midday meal. Morva, as usual in Ann's absence, took charge of the +house, and very sad and lonely she felt as she roamed from one room to +another, dusting a chair or table occasionally, and looking out through +the windows at the dull, leaden sea, for outside, too, the clouds were +gathering, and the wind whispered threatenings of change. + +Three nights ago! Was it possible? So lately as that was she bright +and happy, and was the world around her so full of light and warmth? + +She leant her elbows on the deep window-sill and mused. How long ago, +too, it seemed since she had taken down the old Bible and hunted up +Gethin's delinquencies. She saw it now in her mind's eye, and, getting +upon the table, she reached it down again, and turned to the disfigured +page. + +Now she knew how little harm there had been in those foolish, boyish +rhymes; now she knew the bright black eyes which had guided the pen in +those brown fingers were full of nothing but mischief. "Oh, no! no +harm," she said, "only fun and mischief." She read the lines again, +and a sad little smile came over her mouth, then she looked at the +signatures below. "Gethin Owens, Garthowen." "G. O." "Gethin." She +half-closed the old book, and then, with a furtive glance round the +room and through the window, opened it again, and, stooping down, +pressed her lips on the name, then, blushing a vivid red, she mounted +the table once more and replaced the Bible. + +It was a long, weary day, but it came at last to a close. She made up +the fire, prepared the tea, with piles of buttered toast and new-laid +eggs in plenty, and soon the jingling car drove into the farmyard, +Gwilym Morris lifting Ann bodily out, and both assisting the old man +with tender care, Morva hovering round. She was to sleep at the farm +that night in order to be ready for the early churning next day, so +when they were all seated at the tea-table she left the house with the +intention of seeing if Sara required any help. + +"I will be back before supper," she said, and hurried homewards over +the moor, where the wind was rising and sighing in the broom bushes. +The clouds were hurrying up from the north-west, and threatening to +overcast the pale evening sky, quivering flocks of fieldfares whirred +over her, and the gold and purple were fast losing their brilliant +tints. As she neared the cottage in the darkening twilight, a patch of +scarlet caught her eye, and a warm glow of comfort rushed into her +heart. It was Sara's red mantle and she knew the faithful heart was +waiting for her. + +"The dear old mother," she said, and hastening her footsteps soon +reached Sara, who stood leaning on her stick and peering over the moor. + +"Here I am, mother!" she said, as cheerfully as she could. + +"'Merch fach i!" said Sara tenderly, and they turned into the cottage +together. + +The tea was laid on the little round table in the chimney corner. + +"Did you expect me, then, mother?" + +"Yes; I thought thou wouldst come, child, to see how I fared as thou +art sleeping there to-night," and sitting down together they chatted +over their tea. + +At Garthowen there was much chat going on, too. Ebben Owens had not +sold his yearlings. + +"I wasn't going to give them away for half price, not I!" he said. +"I'd rather keep them till next fair." So Twm had driven them home +again, and was even now turning them into the old cowhouse. + +"Well! I have a wonderful piece of news to give you all," said Gwilym +Morris, leaning back in his chair and diving deep into his pocket. +Having pulled out a canvas bag he laid it triumphantly on the table +with a bang. + +"What is it?" said all, in a breath. + +Gwilym did not answer, but undoing the pink tape which tied it, he +poured out on the table forty glittering sovereigns. + +"There!" he said, "what do you think; old Tim 'Penlau' paid me the 40 +pounds he has owed me so long!" + +"Well, wonders will never cease!" said Ebben Owens. + +"How long has he had them?" asked Will. + +"Oh! these years and years. I had quite given them up, but he was +always promising that when he sold his farm he would repay me. Now +they have come just in time to furnish the new house, Ann." + +"But why didn't you put them into the bank?" asked Will. + +"'Twas too late, the bank was closed; but I will take them in +to-morrow." + +"I saw you talking to Gryny Lewis in the market," said Ebben Owens. +"What were you saying to him? You weren't such a fool as to tell him +you had received the 40 pounds?" + +"Well, yes, indeed I did," replied Gwilym. + +"Well, I wouldn't tell him. Don't forget how he stole from Jos +Hughes's till." + +"Well, indeed, I never remembered that. Oh, I'll take care of them," +he said, tying them once more in his bag, and returning them to his +pocket. "I'll put them in my drawer to-night, and to-morrow I'll take +them to the bank." + +When Morva returned they were still discussing the preacher's good +fortune in the recovery of the loan which he had almost despaired of. + +"Oh, there's glad I am!" said the girl; and Gethin put in a word of +congratulation as he sauntered out to take a last look at the horses. + +Long before ten the whole household had retired for the night. Ann and +Morva slept in a small room on the first landing, just beyond which, up +two steps, ran a long passage, into which the other bedrooms opened. + +Morva, who generally found the handmaid of sleep waiting beside her +pillow, missed her to-night. Hour after hour she lay silent and +open-eyed, vainly endeavouring to follow Ann into the realms of +dreamland. + +Tudor, too, who usually slept quietly in his kennel, seemed disturbed +and restless, and filled the air with mournful howling. + +The girl was in that cruellest of all stages of sorrow, when the mind +has but half grasped the meaning of its trouble. She had no name for +the deep longing which rebelled in her heart against the fate that was +closing her in; for she had as yet scarcely confessed to herself that +her whole being turned towards Gethin as the flower to the sun, and +that in her breast, so long calm and unruffled as the pools in the +boggy moor, was growing as strong a repulsion for one brother as love +for the other. And as she lay quietly on her pillow, endeavouring not +to disturb her companion's rest, a tide of sorrowful regrets swept over +her, even as outside, under the shifting moonlight, the bay, yesterday +so calm, was torn and tossed by the rising north-west wind. Through +all, and interwoven even with her bitter grief, was the memory of that +happy night--surely long ago?--when she had sat in the warm air of the +cynos, and Gethin had danced into her heart. Oh, the pity of it! such +love to be offered her, and to be thrust aside! "That is what I would +say if I were Will!" And all night every sorrowful longing, every +endeavour after resignation, every prayer for strength, ended with the +same refrain, "If he were Will! if he were Will!" + +Tick, tack, tick, tack! the old clock filled the night air with its +measured beat. "Surely it does not tick so loudly in the day?" she +thought. + +Ten, eleven, and twelve had struck, and still Morva lay wakeful, with +wide-open eyes, watching the hurrying clouds. At last she slept for an +hour or two, and her uninterrupted breathing showed that the +invigorating sleep of youth had at length fallen upon her weary +eyelids. For an hour or two she slept, but at last she suddenly +stirred, and in a moment was wide awake, with every sense strained to +the utmost. + +What had awakened her she could not tell. She was conscious only of an +eager and thrilling expectancy. + +She was about to relapse into slumber when a gliding sound caught her +ear, and in a moment she was listening again, with all her senses +alert. Was it fancy? or was there a soft footfall, and a sound as of a +hand drawn over the whitewashed wall of the passage? A board creaked, +and Morva sat up, and strained her ears to listen. After a stillness +of some moments, again there was the soft footfall and the gliding hand +on the wall. She rose and quietly crept into the passage just in time +to see a dark figure entering the preacher's room. + +Who could it be? + +Intense curiosity was the feeling uppermost in her mind, and this alone +prevented her calling Ann. Standing a few moments in breathless +silence, she heard the slow opening of a drawer; another pause of eager +listening, while the stealthy footsteps seemed to be returning towards +the doorway. + +At this moment the moon emerged from behind a cloud, and in her light +Morva saw a sight which astonished her, for coming from the preacher's +room a well-known form stood plainly revealed. It was Gethin! and the +girl shrank a little into the shadow of a doorway. But her precaution +was needless, for he walked as if dazed or asleep, and with unsteady +footstep seemed to stagger as he hurriedly gained his own room. + +Morva, frightened and wondering, returned to bed, and if the early +hours of the night had been disturbed and restless, those which +followed were still more so. + +What could it mean? What could Gethin want in Gwilym's room? She had +thought it was a thief, and if not a thief what was the meaning of +those stealthy footsteps and the opening of the drawer? and full of +unrest she lay awake listening to the ticking of the clock, and to +Tudor's continued howling. Should she wake Ann? No! for Gethin had +evidently desired secrecy, and she would not be the one to frustrate +his intentions, for whatever might be the object of his secret visit to +the preacher's room, she never doubted but that it was right and +honourable. + +All night she lay in troubled thought, rising many times to look +through the ivy-framed window towards the eastern brow of the slopes. +At length the pale dawn drew near, and Morva slept a heavy dreamless +sleep, which lasted till Ann called her for the churning. + + + +[1] Cowhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SARA'S VISION + +"Morva, lass," said Ann, "what's the matter to-day? No breakfast; +after thy work at the churn, too?" + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, "I drank so much butter milk that I don't +want much breakfast." + +"Come, lass," said Ebben Owens, "hard work wants good feeding." + +"Well," said Ann, "you are not eating much yourself. Did you sleep +well, father?" + +"Yes, of course," said the old man; "I always sleep like a top. Here's +Will; he'll satisfy thee in the eating line, whatever." + +"Yes; especially when there's fresh butter and new bread," said Will, +sitting down and cutting a thick slice for himself. "What was the +matter with Tudor last night? He was howling all night. Did you hear +him, father?" + +"Not I. 'Twas the moonlight, I suppose. Dogs often howl on a +moonlight night." + +"Tudor doesn't," said Ann. "I'm glad I didn't hear him, ach y fi! I +don't like it at all. But where's Gwilym and Gethin? There's late +they are." + +At this moment the former entered and took his seat silently at the +table, looking pale and flurried. + +"Where can Gethin be?" said Ann again; "not back from the mountain?" +and Magw was sent to the top of the garden to call him, which she did +with such stentorian tones that his name flew backwards and forwards +across the valley, but no Gethin came. + +Breakfast over, the big Bible was placed before Ebben Owens as usual, +and all the farm servants assembled for prayers. When they rose from +their knees and the wooden shoes had clattered out of the kitchen, +Gwilym said, as he drew his chair to the table: + +"Ann, we must wait a little longer for our furniture. My bag of +sovereigns is gone!" + +"Gone?" echoed everyone, and Morva, who was putting away the Bible, +turned white with a deadly fear, which seemed to freeze the blood in +her veins. In the excitement of the moment her change of countenance +escaped the notice of the other members of the family. + +"Gone," said Will, "gone where? What do you mean, man? Stolen?" + +"Yes, no doubt, for the window and the drawer were open." + +"The window?" said Ebben Owens. "Then the thief must have come in that +way." + +"And gone out, too, I suppose," said Gwilym. + +"Tis that devil, Gryffy Lewis," said Will. "He could easily creep up +from his cottage. You ought not to have told him." + +"No, I ought not," said the preacher; "but, indeed, I was so glad of +the money and to find that Tim 'Penlau' was honest after all our +doubts, and Gryffy Lewis seemed as glad as I was." + +"The deceitful blackguard!" said Ebben Owens. + +"Well, we don't know it was he after all," suggested Gwilym. "Poor +man, we must not blame him till we are certain. I hoped and believed +that he had taken a turn for the better, and this would be a dreadful +blow to me." + +"Blow to you!" said Will excitedly. "I'll go to Castell On for a +policeman, and it'll be a blow to Gryffy when he feels the handcuffs on +his wrists." + +"No--no," said Gwilym Morris, "that I will never allow." For in his +daily life the preacher carried out his Master's teaching in its +spirit, and forgave unto seventy times seven, and with curious +inconsistency abhorred the relentless anger which on Sundays in the +pulpit he unconsciously ascribed to the God whom he worshipped. "No, +let him have the money, it will bring its own punishment, poor fellow! +I have lived long enough without it, and can do without it still, only +poor Ann won't have mahogany chairs and a shining black sofa in her +parlour--deal must do instead." + +"Deal will do very well," said Ann soothingly, + +"Well," said Ebben Owens, "you take your trouble like a Christian, +Gwilym." + +"Like a Christian!" said Will. "Like a madman I call it! I think you +owe it to everyone in the house, Gwilym, to send for a policeman and +have the matter cleared up." + +"It wouldn't do," said Ebben, "to charge Gryffy without any proofs, so +we had better hush it up and say nothing about it before the servants." + +"Yes, that is the best plan," said the preacher, "and perhaps in time +and by kindness I can turn Gryffy's mind to repentance and to returning +the money." + +"But where's Gethin this morning?" inquired Will. "I hope nothing has +happened to Bowler." + +The morning hours slipped by, and yet Gethin did not appear. At dinner +in the farm kitchen there were inquiries and comments, but nobody knew +anything of the absent one. + +In the best kitchen the meal was partaken of in silence, a heavy cloud +hung over the household, and terrible doubts clutched at their hearts, +but no one spoke his fears. When, however, the shades of evening were +closing in, and neither on moor nor meadow, in stable nor yard, was +Gethin to be seen, a dreadful certainty fell upon them. It was too +evident that he had disappeared from the haunts of Garthowen. Will +swore under his breath, Gwilym Morris was even more tender than usual +to every member of the family, and Ebben Owens went about the farm with +a hard look on his face, and a red spot on each cheek, but nobody said +anything more about sending for a policeman. Ann cried herself to +sleep that night. Morva went home to her mother, white and dry-eyed, +her mind full of anxious questioning, her heart sinking with sorrow. + +Sara held out her wrinkled hand towards her. + +"Come, 'merch fach i, 'tis trouble, I know; but what is it, lass?" + +"Oh, mother, 'tis too dreadful to think of! How can such things be? +You say the spirits come and talk to you, they never come to me; ask +them to be kind to me, too, and to take me to themselves, for this +world is too full of cruel thorns!" + +Sara's kind eyes filled with tears. + +"Oh! that I could bear thy sorrow for thee, my little girl; but it is +one of the thorns of life that we cannot raise the burden of sorrows +from our dear ones and bind it on our own shoulders. God alone can +help thee, my child." + +"Mother, do you know what has happened?" + +"Yes," said the old woman. "I was quite failing to sleep last night, +so I got up and lighted the fire, and I read a chapter sitting here on +the settle. After I had read, looking I was at the flames and the +sparks that flew upwards, and a vision came before me. I was at +Garthowen in the dark, I saw a figure creeping quietly into a room; it +was a man, but I could not recognise him. He opened a drawer, and took +something out of it, and I did not see anything more. When I awoke the +fire had gone out, and I was very cold, so I went back to bed, and +slept heavily all night, and when I awoke this morning I knew thou +wouldst come to me in sorrow and fright." + +"Well, mother, can you gather some comfort from your vision? Oh! tell +me the meaning of it all. What did Gethin want in Gwilym's room?" + +"Gethin?" said Sara, in astonishment, "in Gwilym Morris's room!" + +"Yes, I saw him; and from there a bag of sovereigns has been stolen. +He has gone away without a word to anyone, and I know they all think +that he has done this dreadful thing? but I will _not_ believe it, +never! never! never!" + +"No, it is all dark, but one thing is plain to me and thee, Gethin did +not do this shameful thing. Let me be, child, and perhaps it will all +come before me again, or perhaps Gethin will come back. I know, +whatever, that my message to thee is Gethin is not guilty of this +wickedness." + +"Mother, I believe you," said the girl; "and though all the world +should swear it was Gethin, I should know better, for you know, mother. +We only see with our bodily eyes, but your spirit sees. Mother, I know +it--but he is gone! What is the meaning of that; he is gone like the +mist of the morning--like a dream of the night, and he will never +return, and if he did return it could never be anything to me!" + +And leaning on the table as she had done once before, her face buried +on her arms, she sobbed unrestrainedly, Sara sitting by her and crying +in sympathy. + +All day they discussed the unhappy event. + +"Who did it, mother? and why did Gethin go away?" + +"I don't know," said the old woman. "I shall never know perhaps who +did it, but I know it was not Gethin." + +"Why did I see him, mother? I awoke suddenly and went into the +passage, and there he was. I wish I had slept sounder, for that sight +will always be on my mind. When we came down to breakfast he was gone, +and every one will think he stole the money. Forty sovereigns, mother! +Will he ever come back and clear it up?" + +"Some day it will be plain, but now we must be satisfied to know it was +not Gethin." + +"No one else will believe us, mother." + +"Oh! I am used to that," said the old woman, with a patient smile; +"that makes no difference in God's plans. Thou must pluck up thy +heart, and have courage, child, for there is a long life before thee. +A dark cloud is shading thy path now, but 'twill pass away, and thou +wilt be happy again." + +"Never! unless Gethin comes back to clear his name. Oh! 'tis a cold +grey world. Only here with you, mother, is the comfort of love. When +I draw near the cottage I look out for your red mantle, and if I see +it, it sends a warm glow through me." + +And so they talked until, as the twilight gathered round them, Morva +said: + +"I must go; the cows must be milked. Poor Garthowen is a sad house +to-day! I wish I could comfort them a little, but 'tis all dark." + +And as she crossed the moor to the Cribserth, she looked round her, but +found no shred of comfort. The sea, all rough and torn by the high +wind, looked cold and cruel; the brow of the hill, which Gethin's +whistle had so often enlivened, looked bare and uninteresting; the moor +had lost its gorgeous tints; a rock pigeon, endeavouring to reach its +nest, was driven by the wind against a thorn bush. + +"Tis pricked and beaten like me," thought the girl, and struggling with +the high wind, she helped the bird with tender fingers to extricate +himself. + +When she entered the farmyard Daisy stood waiting, and Morva, knowing +that without her song there would be no milk, began the old refrain, +but her voice broke, and while she sang with trembling lips the tears +ran down her cheeks. + +The news of Gethin's absence was soon bruited abroad, and many were the +conjectures as to its cause. + +"He seemed so jolly at the cynos," said the farm servants; "who'd have +thought his heart was away with the shipping and the foreign ports?" + +"Well, well," said the farmers, "Garthowen will have to do without +Gethin Owens, that's plain; the roving spirit is in him still, and +Ebben Owens will have to look alive, with only Ann and Gwilym Morris to +help him." + +"Well, he needn't be so proud, then! Will a clergyman indeed! 'tis at +home at the plough I'd keep him!" + +But nobody knew anything of the robbery, which added so much poignancy +to the sorrow at Garthowen. Ebben Owens seemed to take his son's +disappearance much to heart, and to feel his absence more in sorrow +than in anger. + +Will grew more and more irritable, so that it was almost a relief when +one day in the following week he took his departure for Llaniago, his +father accompanying him in the car, and returning next day with glowing +accounts of his son's introduction to the world of learning and +collegiate life. + +"If you were to see him in his cap and gown!" he said, "oh, there's a +gentleman he looks; in my deed there wasn't one in the whole college so +handsome as our Will! so straight and so tall, and everybody noticing +him." + +And so Will was launched on the voyage of clerical life with full sails +and colours flying, while Gethin was allowed to sink into oblivion; his +name was never mentioned, his place knew him no more, and the tide of +life flowed on at Garthowen with the outward monotonous peace and +regularity common to all farm life. Ebben Owens leant more on Gwilym +and Ann, and Twm took his own way more, but further than this there was +no difference in the daily routine of work. + +The grey house at Brynseion was nearing completion, but Ann put off her +marriage again and again, and even hinted at the desirability of +breaking off her engagement entirely, unless it could be arranged for +her and her husband to live on at Garthowen, and let the grey house to +somebody else. + +"Well!" said Gwilym, "'tis for you and your father to settle that. I +will be happy with you anywhere, Ann, and I see it is impossible for +you to leave the old man while both his sons are away; so do as you +wish, 'merch i, only don't keep me waiting any longer." + +And so it was settled, and Ann sat down to indite a letter to Will in +the fine pointed handwriting which she had learnt during her year of +boarding-school at Caer-Madoc, fine and pointed and square, like a row +of gates, with many capitals and no stops. The letter informed her +brother with much formality, "that having known Gwilym Morris for many +years, he and she had now decided to enter upon the matrimonal state. +Our father and mother," she continued, "having been married in Capel +Mair at Castell On, I have a strong wish to be married in the same +place, and Gwilym consents to my wish. We will fix our wedding for +some day after your return from Llaniago at Christmas, as we would like +you to be present as well as my father. Elinor Jones of Betheyron will +be my bridesmaid, and Morva and Gryffy Jones will be the only others at +the wedding." + +By return of post Will's answer came, requesting them not to count upon +him, as he might accept the invitation of a friend to spend part of his +vacation with him. "In any case," he added, "it would scarcely look +well for a candidate for Holy Orders in the Church of England to attend +a service in a dissenting chapel." + +Gwilym Morris folded the letter slowly, and returned it to Ann without +a word. + +"Well, well!" said Ebben Owens, "'tis disappointing, but Will knows +best; no doubt he's right, and thee must find someone else, Ann. I +wish Gethin was here," the old man said, with a sigh. + +It was strange, Ann thought, how tenderly and wistfully he longed for +Gethin, once so little cared for; and as the memory of the sinister +event which she believed caused his absence crossed her mind she +coloured with shame. + +"Oh, father," she said, clasping her hands. "Poor Gethin! how could I +have him at my wedding? I never thought one of our family could be +dishonest." + +"Nor I--nor I, indeed!" said Ebben Owens, shaking his head sorrowfully. + +"It is too plain, isn't it?" said Ann, "going away like that--oh! to +think our Gethin was a thief!" and throwing her apron over her face she +burst into a fit of sobbing, a thing so unusual with the placid Ann +that her father and Gwilym both watched her in surprise. + +Gwilym took her hand in silence, and the old man, leaning his elbow on +the table and shading his eyes with his hand dropped some bitter tears. +He had looked forward to Will's return with intense longing, had +counted the days that must elapse before that happy hour should arrive +when, great-coated and gloved, he should drive his son over the frosty +roads, and usher him like a conquering hero into the old home. Through +her own tears Ann observed the old man's sorrowful attitude, and +instantly she dried her eyes and ran towards him. + +"Father, anwl," she said, in an abandon of love, kneeling down beside +him, and throwing her strong white arm around him, "is it tears I see +dropping down on the table? Well, indeed, there's a foolish daughter +you've got, to cry and mourn, and make her old father cry. Stop those +tears at once, then, naughty boy," she said cheerily, patting the old +man's back; "or I'll cry again, and Gwilym will be afraid to enter such +a showery family." + +Her father tried to laugh through his tears, and Ann, casting her +sorrow to the winds, laid herself out with "merry quips and cranks" to +restore him to cheerfulness. + +"Now see," she cried, with assumed childish glee, "what a dinner I have +for you! what you've often called 'a dinner for a king' and so it is, +and that king is Ebben Owens of Garthowen!" and she placed before him a +plate of boiled rabbit, adding a slice of the pink, home-cured bacon, +which Gwilym was cutting with a smile of amusement at her playful ruse. + +"Now, potatoes and onion sauce, salt, cabbages, knife and fork, and now +the dear old king is going to eat a good dinner." + +Ebben Owens laughingly took his knife and fork, and in spite of the +previous tears, the meal was a cheerful one, even Tudor stood up with +his paws on the table with a joyous bark. + +Will's letters were the grand excitement of the farm, coming at first +pretty regularly once a week--read aloud by Ann in the best kitchen, +examined carefully by her father lest a word should have escaped the +reader, carried out to farm kitchen or stable or field, and read to the +servants, who listened with gaping admiration. + +"There's a scholar he is! Caton pawb! Indeed, Mishteer, there's proud +you must be of him!" And all this was incense to Ebben Owens's heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BIRD FLUTTERS + +In the first term of his college life Will fully realised his +pleasantest anticipations, and now, if never before, he acknowledged to +himself his deep indebtedness to Gwilym Morris; his own abilities he +had never doubted. The ease, too, with which he had matriculated much +elated him, and he began his studies with a light heart and a happy +consciousness of talent, which, coupled with a dogged perseverance and +a determination to overcome every obstacle in his path, ensured success +in the long run. He had one fixed and constant aim, namely, +advancement in the career upon which he had entered, and in furtherance +of this object, he was determined to let no hankering after the past +stand in his way. In his own opinion there were but two hindrances to +his progress, two shadows from the past to darken his path, and these +were his obscure birth and his love for Morva, for this he had not yet +succeeded in crushing. Before he left home his constant intercourse +with her and the ease with which they met had prevented the usual +anxieties which are said to beset the path of love. With innate +selfishness, he had taken to himself all the pleasure derivable from +their close companionship, without troubling himself much as to the +state of the girl's feelings. That she was true to him, he had never +had reason to doubt. Since he left home things had taken a different +aspect; true, the thought of Morva was interwoven with all he did or +read or studied, but there was an accompanying feeling of disquietude, +a shrinking from the memory of her simple rustic ways, which he began +to realise were incompatible with his new hopes and aspirations. It +was becoming very evident to him, therefore, that his love for her must +be banished, with all the old foolish ties and habits which bound him +to the past. A vision of the clear blue eyes, the winsome smile, the +lissom figure _would_ rise persistently before him, and alas! the +threadbare woollen gown, the wooden shoes, the pink cotton neckerchief, +were also photographed upon his brain. + +He heard from Ann of her approaching marriage, no longer deferred in +expectation of his presence, and he was much relieved by this +arrangement; but still, when the morning dawned clear and frosty, he +was cross and irritable, for he could not banish from his mind the +thought of the old ivy-covered homestead, with the few gnarled trees +overshadowing its gables, its bare sea front turned bravely to the +north-west, the elder tree over the back door, the farm servants, all +with white favours pinned on their breasts; the gentle bride, the +handsome thoughtful bridegroom, the dear old father excited and merry, +and above all, Morva decked out in wedding finery! How lovely she +would look! Why was it that this sweet picture of home filled Will's +heart only with discontent and an abiding unrest? The answer is plain, +because he had determined, come what would, to sever himself from that +homely, simple life, to cast the thought of it into the background, to +live only for the future, and that future one of success and +self-aggrandisement. Morva alone held him back; how could he hope to +rise in his career, while his heart was fettered by the memory of a +milkmaid, a cowherd, a shepherdess? No, it was very evident that from +her he must break away. "But not now," he said to himself, as he paced +round the quadrangle, "not yet." She was so sweet--he loved her so +much; not yet must the severance come. "It will be time enough," so +his reverie ended, "when my future is more defined and certain, then it +will be easy to break away from poor Morva." + +The invitation of which he had spoken had not been renewed, and though +he was far too proud to show his annoyance, the omission galled and +fretted his haughty nature, for the lowliness of his birth and +circumstances chafed him continually, and engendered a sensitiveness to +small annoyances which would not have troubled a nobler nature. In +spite of all this, he found himself, as the term drew near its close, +looking forward with pleasure to the old home ways, and the old home +friends, and when he climbed into the jingling car beside his father, +in the yard of the hotel, not even the rough country shabbiness of the +equipage could altogether spoil the pleasant anticipations of a first +vacation at home, although, it must be confessed, that as he drove out +of the town, he earnestly hoped he would escape the observation of his +fellow collegians. + +Ebben Owens's happiness should now have been complete, for he had his +much-loved son at home at his own hearth; but a shadow seemed to have +fallen on the old man's life, a haunting sadness which nothing seemed +to dispel. Ann rallied him upon it playfully, and he would laughingly +promise to reform. + +"Will at home and all," she said, "and everything going on so +well--except, of course, 'tis dreadful about Gethin; but we have been +used to his absence, father; and you never seemed to grieve about him." + +"No, no," said her father, "I have never grieved about him much, but +lately I had got so fond of him; he was so kind to me, so merry he was, +and so handsome, and always ready to help!" and again he would relapse +into silence. + +On market day he was very anxious to drive Will into Castell On. + +"Come on, 'machgen i; I will give you a new waistcoat. Come and show +yourself to Mr. Price and to all the young ladies. Be bound, if they +were to see you in your cap and gown, not the highest among them but +would be proud to shake hands with you!" + +But Will declined the offer. Later in the day, however, he walked in +alone, and only that sad angel, who surely records the bitter wounds +inflicted by children upon the tender parent hearts, knew how sharp a +stab entered the old man's soul; but next day he had "got over it," as +the phrase is. + +With a slow, dragging step Morva walked home on the evening of Will's +arrival. He had nodded at her in a nonchalant manner, with a kindly, +"Well, Morva!" in passing, just as he had done to Magw and Shan, but +further than that had not spoken to her again, though his eyes followed +her everywhere as she moved about her household duties. + +"Prettier than ever!" he thought. "My word! there is not one of the +Llaniago young ladies fit to tie her shoe!" + +As soon as the cows were milked and the short frosty day had ended, the +moon rose clear and bright over the Cribserth. + +"I am going to see Sara," said Will, taking his hat off the peg in the +blue painted passage. + +No one was surprised at that, for both Will and Gethin, ever since +their mother's death, had been accustomed to run to Sara for sympathy +with every pleasure or misfortune, and after being two months away it +was quite natural that he should want to see her; so Morva had scarcely +rounded the bend of the Cribserth before Will had caught her up. A +little shiver ran through her as she recognised the step and the +whistle which called her attention. It was Will, whom she once thought +she had loved so truly, and the coldness which she had felt towards him +of late was strangely mingled with remorse and tender memories as she +turned and walked a few steps back to meet him. + +"Stop, Morva; let me speak to thee. Give me thy hand, lass. After so +long a parting thou canst not deny me a kiss too." + +Ah, how sweet it was to return to the dear old Welsh, and the homely +"thee" and "thou"! + +"Art well, Will? But I need not ask. Indeed, there is life and health +in thy very face." + +"Yes, I am well," said Will, drawing her towards him. "I am coming +with thee to see Sara." + +"Yes, come," said Morva. + +"Art glad to see me, lass?" + +"Yes, indeed, I am very glad, whatever. Garthowen will be full again; +it has been very empty lately." + +She was thinking of Gethin, unconsciously, perhaps, and hung her head a +little guiltily when Will said: + +"Thou didst miss me, then?" + +"Of course we all missed thee--thy father especially." + +"More than thee, Morva?" + +She sighed. "'Tis this way, Will. I am tired of this secrecy. We +grew up like brother and sister. Can't we remain like that? Don't ask +me for more, and then thou canst rise as high as thou pleasest, and I +will be always glad to see thee, and so proud to hear of thy getting +on. Will, it will never do for a clergyman to marry his father's +milkmaid!" + +"Twt, twt," said Will, "let us not think of the future, lass--the +present is enough for me; and I promise thee not to allude to our +marriage if thou wilt only meet me like this whenever I come home, and +let me feel thee close to my heart as thou hast to-night." + +"But I will not," said the girl suddenly, withdrawing herself from the +arm which he had passed round her waist. + +"Why not?" he asked. + +"Because," said Morva, "'tis only my promise to marry thee that makes +me meet thee as I do, and deceive them all at Garthowen. Let me tell +them how it is between us, Will." + +"What! Morva talk about her sweetheart as the English girls do! No, +thou art too modest, lass." + +"That is quite different," said Morva. "I do not want to talk about +my--my--" + +"Lover," said Will. + +"Yes, but I don't want any longer to deceive my best friends. Let me +go, Will, or let us be married soon. I am willing for either." + +"Indeed, lass," said Will, beginning to hedge, "I would almost think +thou hadst found another sweetheart, only I know how seldom any other +man comes across thy path, unless indeed Gethin the thief has stolen +thy love from me. Morva, dost love any other man?" + +"Gethin is no thief," she answered hotly, "and thou knowest it as well +as I do. Thou knowest his nature; 'twould be impossible for him to do +a mean thing." + +"Thou hast a high opinion of him," said Will scornfully. "Is it he, +then, who hast stolen thine heart?" + +Morva walked with bent head, pulling at her apron-strings. + +"I am not saying that," she answered, in a very low tone, "but I wish +to be free, or marry thee soon." + +It was now Will's turn to be anxious. The possibility of Morva's +loving any other man had never before disturbed him, but now her words, +her attitude, all impressed him with a strong suspicion, and a flame of +anger and jealousy rushed through his veins. + +"Free!" he said, "after all thy promises to me--free to marry another +man! Is it that, Morva?" and as he spoke his hot temper gathered +strength. "Never!" he said, "I will never free thee from thy promise. +Thou canst break it an thou wishest, and break my heart at the same +time; 'twill be a fine return for all our kindness to thee, 'twill be a +grand ending to all thy faithful vows!" + +"I am willing to marry thee, Will," she said, "if thou wilt let it be +soon." + +"Marry thee soon! How can that be, Morva?--a student without home or +money, and a girl without a penny in the world! What madness thou art +talking. I only ask thee to have patience for a year or two, and I +will have a home for thee. And who is thy new sweetheart?" + +"I have no sweetheart; but, Will, I want to be free." + +"And I will never give thee back thy freedom. Take it if thou lik'st. +The absent are always forgotten. How could I expect thee to be true?" + +Morva began to cry silently. + +"I see I have set my heart upon a fickle, cruel woman, one who, after +years of faithful promises, forgets me, and wishes to take back her +vows. I have but to leave her for two months, and she at once breaks +her promises and forgets the past, while I," said Will, with growing +indignation and self-pity, "have found all my studies blurred by thine +image, and the memory of thee woven with all my thoughts. Oh, Morva! +had I known when we were boy and girl together that thou couldst be so +false, I would never have treasured thee in my heart, but would have +turned and fled as Gethin did, instead of clinging to thee, and for thy +sake stopping in the dull old home when the world was all before me. +And now to come home and find that thou art tired of me--art cold to +me, and hast forgotten me! 'Tis a hard fate, indeed!" + +"Oh, Will, no, no!" sobbed the girl, "'tis not so; indeed. God knows I +love thee still as much as ever I did. 'Tis only that I have grown +older, and wiser, and sadder perhaps, because it seems that knowing +much brings sorrow with it. I was so young when I made all those +promises." + +"Two months younger than thou art now!" scoffed Will. + +"Two months is a long time," she said, "when you begin to think, and I +have thought and thought out here at night when the stars are +glittering overhead, when the sea is sighing so sad down below, and +after all my thinking only one thing is plain to me, Will; let there be +no promises between us." + +"Never!" said Will, a vindictive feeling rising within him, "never will +I set thee free to marry another man, whoever he is!" + +"He is no one," interpolated Morva, in a low voice. + +"Whoever he is," repeated Will, as though he had not heard her, "I will +never set thee free, never--never, never!" + +All the dogged obstinacy of his nature was roused, and the feeling that +he was a wronged and injured man gave his voice a tone of indignant +passion which told upon the girl's sensitive nature. + +"Oh, Will," she said, stretching out her hand towards him, "I did not +think thou loved me like that! I cannot be cruel to thee; thou art a +Garthowen, and for them I have often said I would lay down my life. I +will lay down my life for thee, Will. Once more I promise." + +"Nay," he said, laughing, "I will never ask thee to do that for me, +lass; only be true to me and wait patiently for me, Morva;" and he drew +her towards him once more. + +"I will," she answered. + +They had reached the cottage, and Will passed round into the court, +leaving her standing with eyes fixed steadfastly on the bright north +star. + +"I will," she repeated, "for I have promised, and there are many ways +of laying down one's life." + +For a moment she stood alone in the moonlight, and what vows of +self-sacrifice she made were known only to herself. + +"Anwl, anwl!" said Sara, as Will entered, "will I make my door bigger? +Will I find a stool strong enough for this big man?" + +Will laughed and tossed back his hair. + +"Will I ever be more than a boy to thee, Sara?" + +"Well, indeed," said the old woman, "I am forgetting how the children +grow up. Sit down, my boy, and tell us all about the grand streets and +the college at Llaniago, and the ladies and gentlemen whom thou art +hand and glove with there--and so thou ought to be, too. Caton pawb! +I'd like to see the family whose achau[1] go back further than +Garthowen's!" + +Here Morva entered. + +"I thought thou hadst run away, lass!" said Will, with a double meaning +as he looked at her. + +She only smiled and shook her head. + +"Oh! 'twouldn't do for me," said Sara, "whenever Morva stops out under +the night sky to think she has run away; she often strays out when the +stars are shining." + +Gethin had always been Sara's favourite, and Will's visit therefore did +not give her so much pleasure as his brother's had done; but she would +have belied her hospitable nature had she allowed this preference to +influence the warmth of her welcome. + +Morva seemed to have regained her cheerfulness, and spread the simple +supper, sometimes joining in the conversation, while Will and Sara +chatted over the blaze of the crackling furze. It was quite late when +he rose to go. + +"Well," he said, "they will be shutting me out at Garthowen, and +thinking I have learnt bad ways at Llaniago. Good-night, Sara fach, I +am glad to see thee looking so well. Good-night, Morva. Wilt come +with me a little way? 'Twill be an excuse for another ten minutes +under the stars, Sara." + +And they went out together, their shadows blending into one in the +bright moonlight. + +Once more Will extracted the oft-repeated promise, and Morva returned +to the cottage, her chains only riveted more firmly, and her heart +filled with a false strength, arising from an entire surrender of self +and all selfish desires to an imaginary duty. + + + +[1] Pedigree. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +DR. OWEN + +It was New Year's Day, the merriest and most festive day of the year, +and Ebben Owens, sitting under the big chimney, seemed for a time at +least to have shaken off the cloud that had hung over him of late. + +Christmas Day in Wales is by no means the day of festivity that it is +in England, the whole day being taken up with religious services of +some kind; but the first day of the year is given up entirely to +pleasure and happy re-unions. For the children it is the day of days. +Before the sun has risen they congregate in the village streets, and +set out in the dark and cold of the frosty morning in noisy groups, on +expeditions into the surrounding country, with bags on their shoulders, +in which they collect the kindly "calenigs," or New Year's gifts, +prepared for them in every farm and homestead. 'Tis a merry gathering, +indeed, the tramp through the frost and snow under the bright stars in +the early morning, adding the charm of novelty and mystery to the usual +delight of an expedition. + +Ann and Morva had cut the generous hunches of barley bread and cheese +overnight, and well it was that they were thus prepared, for before the +hens and turkeys had flown down from their roosting-place, and before +the cows had risen from their warm beds of straw in the beudy, or the +sheep had begun to shake off the snow which had fallen on their fleeces +in the night, fresh young voices were heard in the farmyard singing the +old refrain familiar to generations of Welsh children: + + "Calenig i fi, calenig i'r ffon, + Calenig i fytta ar hyd y ffordd. + Un waith, dwywaith, tair!" + + _Translation._ + + "A gift for me and a gift for my staff, + And a gift to eat as I trudge along. + Once, twice, thrice!" + + +It is a peremptory demand, sung in a chanting kind of monotone, and +very seldom refused. A boy is chosen to knock at the farm door and +rouse the inmates, it being considered unlucky for the household if a +girl first crosses the threshold. + +The family at Garthowen had risen hurriedly, and with smiling faces had +opened the door to the children. Bags were filled, greetings were +interchanged, and the happy troop were sent on their way rejoicing, +shouting as they went, "A happy New Year to you all!" + +When the bread and cheese had come to an end, Ebben Owens had +distributed pennies from a large canvas bag which he had filled for the +occasion; and in the afternoon, when the calls were becoming less +frequent, he sat under the open chimney with an almost empty bag. + +Suddenly the doorway was darkened by a portly figure in black. A +genial face glowing from the frosty air, a voice of peculiar +mellowness, which always added a musical charm of its own both to +singing and conversation; a chimney-pot hat not of the newest, his +black clerical coat uncovered by greatcoat or cloak, a strong knobbed +walking-stick in the right hand, while the finger and thumb of the left +hand were generally tightly closed on a pinch of snuff, well-shined +creaking shoes, completed the costume of the visitor, who was no other +than Mr. Price, the vicar of Castell On. + +"I saw the children coming to the back door, and I am come with them," +said the vicar as he entered, pointing with his stick to a queue of +children in the yard. "How do you do, Owens?" and he shook hands +warmly with the old man, who rose hurriedly to greet his visitor. + +"Caton pawb, Mr. Price!" he said, flinging his remaining pence into the +yard, where the children scrambled for them. "Come in, sir, come in," +and he opened the door of the best kitchen, where the rest of the +family were sitting in the glow of the culm fire. + +Will started to his feet, exclaiming, "Mr. Price!" and for a moment he +hesitated whether to speak in English or in Welsh, but the visitor +settled the matter by adhering to his mother-tongue. + +Ann rose, calm and dignified, and held out her hand without much +empressement. Mr. Price was a clergyman, and a little antagonism awoke +at once in her faithful bigoted heart. + +"My husband," she said, pointing to Gwilym, who flung away his book and +came forward laughing. + +"My dear girl," he said, "although Mr. Price and I work apart on +Sundays, we meet continually in the week, and need no introduction, I +think." + +Mr. Price joined in the laugh, and shook hands warmly with the preacher +and Will, and the conversation soon flowed easily. Will's career was +the chief topic, the vicar appearing to take a personal interest in it, +which delighted the old man's heart. + +"I am very glad, indeed," said the former, with his pinch of snuff held +in readiness, "to hear such a good account of you from my friend, the +dean," and he disposed of his snuff. "He wrote to me, knowing I was +particularly interested, and also that we are neighbours. He says, +'There is every reason to think your young friend will be an honour to +his father, and to his college, if he goes on as he has begun. I have +seldom had the privilege of imparting knowledge to one whose early +teaching presents such well prepared ground for cultivation. Who was +his tutor?' I have told him," added the vicar, "how much you owe to +your brother-in-law." + +"It has been a pleasure to instruct Will," said the preacher. "For one +thing he has a wonderfully retentive memory. Of course it is useless +to pretend that I should not have been better pleased if he had +remained a member of 'the old body'; but, wherever he is, I shall be +very grateful if the small seeds I have sown are allowed to bear the +blossom and fruit of a useful Christian life." + +"Yes, yes! just so, exactly so!" said the vicar; "but having chosen the +Church of his own free will, I am very anxious he should get on well +and be an honour to her." + +He held out his silver snuff-box towards the preacher, who declined the +luxury, but Ebben Owens accepted it with evident appreciation. + +"There is one thing," said the vicar, turning to Will, "which I think +very necessary for your advancement. You must make your uncle's +acquaintance. Dr. Owen is a personal friend of the bishop's, and they +say no one to whom he is unfriendly gets on in the Church." + +"I hope he is not unfriendly to me," said Will, tossing his hair off +his forehead. "I have never troubled him in any way, or claimed his +acquaintance." + +"Have you never spoken to him?" + +"Only as a child," said Will haughtily. "He has not been here for a +long time, and when he came I did not see him for I was not at home." + +As a matter of fact Will had been ploughing on the mountain-side when +the Dr. had honoured his brother with a call. He was beginning to be +ashamed of the farm work and kept it out of sight as much as possible. + +"Well, well!" said his father apologetically, "we are three miles from +Castell On, you see, and it is uphill all the way, and Davy my brother, +never comes to the town except to some service in the church, and so I +can't expect him to spend his time coming out here." + +"No, no, perhaps not! He is a very busy man," said the vicar, who was +never known willingly to hurt anyone's feelings or to speak a +disparaging word of an absent person. "Well, now, he is coming to +lunch with me on Friday on his way to the archidiaconal meetings at +Caer-Madoc, and I want you to come too." + +"He won't like it, perhaps," said Will, "and I should be sorry to force +my company upon him." + +"Oh! you have no reason to think that," said the vicar. "I think when +he has seen you he will like you; anyway, I hope you will come." + +"Of course, Will, of course," said Ebben Owens. "He'll come, sir, +right enough." + +"You are very kind, sir," said Will, slowly and reluctantly. "I would +give the world if it could be avoided, but if you think it is the right +thing for me to do I will do it." + +"I am sure it is! I'm sure it is!" said the vicar, taking snuff +vigorously; "so I shall expect you. Well, Miss Ann, I beg pardon--Mrs. +Morris, I mean, I have not congratulated you yet. 'Pon me word, I am +very neglectful; but I do so now heartily, both of you. May you live +long and be very happy. In fact, my call was intended for the bride +and bridegroom as well as for my young friend here. And where is Morva +Lloyd? She works with you, does she not?" + +"She's at home to-day. 'Tis a holiday for her. + +"She is a great favourite of mine; what a sweet girl she is! I never +have a great beauty pointed out to me but I say 'Very lovely; but not +so lovely as Morva of the Moor.'" + +"Yes; she is a wonderful girl," said Ann, "for a shepherdess." + +"Well, yes!" said Gwilym Morris; "I think she owes her charm in a great +measure to her foster-mother. Do you know old Sara?" + +"Oh, yes!" said the vicar; "we have all heard of old Sara ''spridion.' +Something uncanny about the old woman, they say. But, 'pon me word, +there is something very interesting about her, too." + +"Yes," said Gwilym Morris, "she has a wonderful spiritual insight, if I +may call it so. She often shocks me by her remarks, but if I lay a +subject before her upon which I have been pondering deeply but have not +succeeded in elucidating, she grasps its meaning at once and explains +it to me in simple words, and I come away wondering where the +difficulty lay." + +After the vicar was gone, Will accompanying him half a mile down the +road, the whole family were loud in his praise. + +"There's a man now!" said Ebben Owens; "if every clergyman was like him +'twould be a good thing for the Church. No difference to him whether a +man is a Methodist, a Baptist, or a Churchman, always the same pleasant +smile and warm greeting for them all, and as much at home in a +Dissenter's house as a Churchman's." + +"Yes, a true Christian," said Gwilym Morris, "and so genial and +pleasant. At 'Bethel' on Wednesday night, when Jones 'Bethesda' was +preaching, he was there, and seemed much impressed by the sermon; and +well he might be! I have never heard such an eloquent preacher. +Wasn't he, Ann?" + +"Oh, beautiful!" she replied. "I wish Mr. Price could have stopped to +tea, but, of course, that meeting prevented him." + +Next day when Will, having rung the bell, stood waiting on the vicar's +doorstep, he was certainly not in as equable a frame of mind as his +outward demeanour would lead one to suppose. He was in a few moments +to meet face to face the man who of all others had interested him most +deeply, though his feeling towards him was almost akin to hatred. It +was a sore point at Garthowen that Ebben Owens' own brother had so +completely ignored his relationship with him; and Will's hopes of +success were greatly sweetened by the thought that in time he might +hold his head as high as his uncle's, and bring that proud man to his +senses; but to-day as he stood waiting at Mr. Price's door he called to +mind the necessity of hiding his feelings, and conciliating the great +man, who perhaps might have the power of helping him in the future. + +When shown into the hall he heard voices within; the vicar's jovial +laugh, and a pleasant voice so like his own, that he was startled. + +"Hallo! Owen, how do you do? so glad to see you," said the vicar in +English. + +And the tall man who was standing by the window received him with an +equally pleasant greeting. + +"My nephew, I am told. Well, to be sure, this makes me realise how old +I am getting." + +"Nay, sir," said Will, "you are many years younger than my father." + +The Rev. Dr. Owen looked over Will with secret surprise and +satisfaction. He had expected a raw country youth, his angles still +unrubbed off, his accent rough and Welshy, but Will was on his guard; +it was his strong point, and though the care with which he chose his +words was sometimes a little laboured and pedantic, yet they were +always well chosen and free from any trace of Welsh accent. Dr. Owen +was delighted; he had dreaded a meeting with his brother's uncouth +progeny, and had been rather inclined to resent the vicar's +interference in the matter, but when Will entered, well dressed, simple +and unaffected in manner, and yet perfectly free from gaucherie, a +long-felt uneasiness was set at rest, and the unexpected relief made +Dr. Owen affable and pleasant. + +Will was relieved too. He had feared a haughty look, a contemptuous +manner, and dreaded lest his own hot temper might have refused to be +controlled. + +The vicar was delighted; he felt his little plan had succeeded, and his +kind heart rejoiced in the prospective advantages which might accrue to +Will from his acquaintance with his uncle. + +"And how is my brother Ebben?" said Dr. Owen. "Well, I hope. I am +ashamed to think how long it is since I have called to see him; but, +indeed, I never come to Castell On except on important Church matters, +and I never have much time on my hands. You will find that to be your +own case, young man, when you have fully entered upon your clerical +duties. The Church in Wales is no longer asleep, and she no longer +lets her clergy sleep. I hope it is not with the idea that you will +gain repose and rest that you have entered her service, for if it is +you will be disappointed." + +"Certainly not, sir," answered Will; "my greatest desire is a sphere in +which I can use my energies in the services of the Church. I don't +want rest, I want work." + +"That being so," said the Dr., "we must see that you get it. I have no +doubt with those feelings and intentions you will get on. You will +take your degree, I suppose, before leaving college?" + +"I hope so," said Will, modestly; "that is my wish." + +"Your sister Ann," inquired his uncle at last, "how is she? And your +eldest brother? Turned out badly, didn't he?" + +"Well," said Will, "he is of a roving disposition, certainly; but that +is all. My sister is quite well." + +He intentionally left unmentioned the fact of her marriage, but the +vicar, whose blunt, honest nature never thought of concealment, +imparted the information at once. + +"She was married about a month ago, and I should think has every +prospect of happiness." + +"Married! Ah, indeed! To whom? A farmer, I suppose?" + +"No; to the minister of the Methodist Chapel at Penmorien. A very fine +fellow, and one of the best scholars in the county. You know his +'Meini Gobaith,' published about a year ago?" + +"Oh, is that the man?" said the doctor. "Ts! ts! you have left a nest +of Dissenters, William. I am glad you have escaped." + +"Yes," said Will, laughing; "a nest of Dissenters, certainly." + +"Well," said the vicar, "you owe a great deal to Gwilym Morris. You +would never have begun your college career on such good standing had it +not been for him. In fact, you have had exceptional advantages." + +"Yes," said Will; "he is a splendid teacher, and a good man." + +"Well, well," said his uncle, "let the superstructure be good, and the +foundation will soon be forgotten." + +"A good man's silent influence is a very solid foundation to build +upon, whatever denomination he may belong to," said the vicar. + +"Oh, certainly, certainly," agreed Dr. Owen. "My carriage is at The +Bear; perhaps you will walk down with me, both of you?" + +"Of course, of course," said Mr. Price; "if you must go." + +"Yes, I must go; I must not be late for the meeting at Caer-Madoc." + +The vicar hunted for his walking-stick, and Will helped his uncle to +get into his greatcoat. + +"Thank you, my boy," said the old man, almost warmly, for he was +beginning to feel the ties of blood awakening in his heart. + +In truth, he was so pleasantly impressed by his new-found nephew's +appearance and manners that already visions of a lonely hearth passed +before him, lightened by the presence of a young and ardent spirit, who +should look up to him for help and sympathy, giving in return the warm +love of relationship, which no heart, however cold and isolated, is +entirely capable of doing without. + +Will was elated, and conscious of having stepped easily into his +uncle's good graces, he walked up the street with the two clergymen, +full of gratified pride. + +On their way, to his great annoyance, they met Gryff Jones of +Pont-y-fro, a farmer's son holding the same position as his own. He +would have passed him with a nod, but the genial vicar, to whom every +man was of equal importance, whether lord or farmer, stopped to shake +hands and make kindly inquiries. + +Will and the doctor moved on, and John Thomas the draper, standing at +his shop-door, turned round with a wink at his assistant and a knowing +smile. + +"Well, well," he said, "Will Owens Garthowen _is_ a gentleman at last. +That's what he's been trying to be all his life." + +At the door of the Bear Hotel they came upon a knot of ladies, who at +once surrounded Dr. Owen. He was a great favourite amongst them, his +popularity being partly due to his good looks and pleasant manners, +partly to his good position in the Church, and in some measure +certainly to his reputed riches. + +Soon after entering the Church he had married a lady of wealth and good +position, who was considerably older than himself, and who, having no +children, at her death had bequeathed to him all her property. Many a +net had been spread for the rich widower, but he had hitherto escaped +their toils, and appeared perfectly content with his lonely life. + +Will was almost overwhelmed with nervousness and shyness as they +reached the group of ladies; but, true to his purpose, he put on a look +of unconcern which he was far from feeling. + +"How do you do, Mr. Owen?" said one of the girls, holding out her hand +with a shy friendliness, "I am Miss Vaughan, you know, whom you saved +from that furious bull." + +"Yes, of course," said Will, shaking hands. + +"I thought perhaps you had forgotten me," she said. + +Will had flushed to the roots of his hair from nervousness, but he +quickly regained his self-possession. He looked down the side of his +leg and pondered his boot. + +"Would that be possible, I wonder?" he said, half aloud. + +"I don't see much difficulty," said the girl laughingly. + +Will laughed too, and his laugh was always charming, the ice was +broken, and the chat was only disturbed by the Dr.'s hurried good-bye. + +"Good-bye, ladies," he said, as he stepped briskly into his gig. "I am +grieved to have to leave you, but that meeting calls. Good-bye, Will, +I shall see you at Llaniago, and you, Miss Vaughan, I hear I am to have +the pleasure of meeting you at Llwynelen." And the Dr. drove off +amongst a flutter of hands and handkerchiefs. + +And now Will would have been in a dilemma had not the vicar arrived on +the scene. Again there were many "How do you do's?" and much shaking +of hands, while Will was debating within himself what he should do. + +The vicar at once introduced him to each and all of the young ladies, +some of whom would have drawn back in horror had they known that the +young man who addressed them with such sang-froid was the son of a +farmer, and a brother-in-law of a dissenting preacher. + +Will knew this obstacle in his path, and was determined to overcome it. +Gwenda Vaughan, he thought, was delightfully easy to get on with, and +their conversation followed on uninterruptedly until they reached the +vicarage door, where they parted, the ladies separating, and Will +staying to bid the vicar good-bye. + +"Who on earth was that handsome man, Gwenda?" asked Adela Griffiths +before parting. "I don't know how it is, but you always manage to get +hold of handsome men. + +"And nothing ever comes of it," whispered Edith Williams. + +"Why, he's Dr. Owen's nephew," said Gwenda; "didn't you hear Dr. Owen +introduce him?" + +And she said no more, but carried away with her a distinct impression +of Will's handsome person and charming smile. + + * * * * * * + +About this time a strange thing happened at Garthowen. It was midday. +Ann had just laid the dinner on the table, and Ebben Owens had lounged +in. + +"Well, the threshing will be done soon," said the old man; "Twm is a +capital fellow. Don't know in the world what I should do without him." + +"What is that noise?" asked Morva, pushing back her hair to listen, as +a curious sound as of shaking and thumping was heard by all. + +"'Tis upstairs, and in your room, Gwilym," said Ann. + +Suddenly there was a jingling sound and rolling as if of money, +followed by a satisfied bark. + +"Run up Morva and see," said Ann; "what is that dog doing?" + +The girl ran up, passing Tudor on the stairs, who entered the kitchen +with waving tail and glistening eyes carrying in his mouth a canvas bag +from which hung a draggled pink tape, and at the same moment Morva's +voice was heard calling, "Oh, anwl! come up and see!" + +Ann and Gwilym hurried up, followed by Ebben Owens and Will, to find +Morva pointing to the floor which was strewn with pieces of gold. + +"My sovereigns!" said Gwilym, "no doubt! and Tudor has emptied the bag. +Where could they have come from?" and everyone looked through the open +window down the lane to where in the clear frosty air the blue smoke +curled from a little brown thatched chimney. + +Ebben Owens jerked his thumb towards the cottage. + +"There's no need to ask that," he said. "'Twould be easy to stand on +the garden wall and throw it in through the window." + +Ann was busily counting the sovereigns which had rolled into all sorts +of difficult corners. + +"Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty!" + +"Every one right," said Gwilym; "how fortunate! but how I should like +to tell Gryffy Lewis I forgive him, and that he has done right in +returning the money." + +"I expect fear as well as a guilty conscience made him return them, the +blackguard!" suggested Will. + +"No doubt; no doubt," said the old man. + +As for Morva, she was so overcome with joy at this proof of Gethin's +innocence that she was scarcely able to hide her agitation from those +around her. + +When all the money had been gathered into Ann's apron they returned to +their dinner to find Tudor occupying the mishteer's chair, with a +decided expression of satisfaction on his face, the canvas bag lying +beside him. + +"Well," said Ebben Owens, ousting Tudor unceremoniously from his seat, +and speaking in an agitated and tremulous voice, "one thing has been +made plain, whatever, and that is that poor Gethin had nothing to do +with the money. You all see that, don't you?" + +"Well I suppose he hadn't," said Will; "but why then did he go away so +suddenly? That, I suppose, must remain a mystery until he chooses to +turn up again." + +"Yes, it is strange," said his father, with a deep sigh. + +"Well, thank God!" said Gwilym; "'tis plain he never took the money, +Ann. There is no more need for tears." + +"No, indeed," she said, "but will he ever come back? Oh! father, anwl! +no more sighs. Will is a collegian and getting on well. Gethin is an +honest man wherever he is. He will come back suddenly to us one day as +he did before, and there is no need for heavy hearts any longer at +Garthowen. Morva, lass, art not glad?" + +"Yes, indeed," said the girl, "but I never thought it was Gethin." + +Ebben Owens looked up at her quickly. + +"Who then?" he said. + +"Oh, I didn't know," said the girl, "but I thought God would make it +plain some day." + +"I don't think there is much doubt about it," said Gwilym. "Poor +Gryffy; we know he must have suffered much remorse before he threw that +bag in at the window again." + +"'Twas not Gethin, and that's all we need trouble our heads about now," +said the old man rising from the table. + +The frosty wind was scarcely more fleet than Morva's flying footsteps +as she crossed the moor that evening. + +"Mother, mother!" she called, even before she had reached the doorway. +"Mother, mother! the money is found and everyone knows now that Gethin +is innocent!" and the whole story was poured into Sara's ears. + +Tudor, who sat beside the girl on the settle, her arm thrown round his +neck, looked from one face to another as the story proceeded, +interpolating a bark whenever there was a pause. + +"So the clouds roll by," said Sara. "Patience 'merch i! and the sun +will shine out some day!" + +"How can that be, mother, when I am bound to Will? A milkmaid to a +clergyman; and he already ashamed of her!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +GWENDA'S PROSPECTS + +"I am going to walk into town," said Dr. Owen one morning as he turned +over the sheets of his newspaper; "is anyone inclined for a walk?" + +He was sitting in the sunny bay-window of the breakfast-room at +Llwynelen, a large country house about a mile out of Llaniago. + +"I am," answered Gwenda Vaughan, who sat at work near him. "Such a +lovely day! I was longing for a walk." + +"And I too," said Mrs. Trevor, their hostess. "I have some shopping to +do, and will come with you." + +"Do. Will you be ready in half an hour, ladies? I am going to call +upon my nephew; I can go to his rooms while you are doing your +shopping." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Trevor, "and bring him back to lunch with us. I shall +be glad to make his acquaintance. I hear he is a very promising young +man." + +"Thank you. I am sure he will be delighted to come. I think you will +like him; but I forgot that you, Miss Vaughan, have already seen him." + +"Oh, yes!" said Gwenda. "He once saved my life; so of course I am very +grateful." + +"Saved your life, child; how," asked Mrs. Trevor. + +And Gwenda related the story of the runaway bull, and the manner in +which Will had gone to her rescue. + +"Dear me," said Dr. Owen, "he never mentioned it to me! Well! I'll go +and look him up today." + +Noontide found Will seated at lunch at Llwynelen, Mr. Trevor plying him +with questions concerning his studies and college life; Dr. Owen not a +little pleased with his nephew's self-possessed, though unobtrusive, +manner. He was pleased, too, to see that he made a favourable +impression upon the genial host and hostess. + +Gwenda was as delightfully agreeable as she knew how to be, and that is +saying a good deal. Her naive remarks and honest straightforward +manner had made her a favourite with Dr. Owen, and it gratified him to +see an easy acquaintance springing up between her and his nephew. + +"It is Will's twenty-fourth birthday to-day, he tells me," he said. + +"How odd!" said Gwenda; "it is my twenty-second." + +"That is strange," said Mrs Trevor; "and you never let me know! But +you need not tell everyone your age." + +"Why not?" + +"Oh! well, young ladies don't usually tell their ages; but you are not +quite like other girls." + +Gwenda laughed; and Will thought how charming were the dimple in her +chin, the perfect teeth, the sparkling black eyes! Yes, she was very +pretty, no doubt! + +"Is that remark meant to be disparaging or complimentary?" asked the +girl. + +"Oh! a little of both," said Mrs. Trevor; "girls are odd nowadays." + +"Yes; I think the days are gone by when they were all run into the same +mould," remarked Dr. Owen. + +"And I'm afraid the mould got cracked before I was run into it," +replied Gwenda. + +"Well, you are not very misshapen," said the Dr. warmly, "and if you do +run into little irregularities, they are all in the right direction." + +"Let us hope so," said the girl. + +Will said nothing; but Gwenda, catching the look of ardent admiration, +blushed vividly, and looked down at her plate. + +"In the meantime," she remarked, "no one has wished me or Mr. Owen many +happy returns of the day." + +"Bless me, no!" said Mr. Trevor; "but I do so now, my dear, with all my +heart." + +"And I--and I," echoed the others. + +"Let us drink the health of the two young people," said the host. + +"Thank you very much for your kind wishes," said Will. + +"Yes, thank you very much," echoed Gwenda. Will was in danger of +losing his head as well as his heart. To have his name (from which, by +the by, he had dropped the plebeian "s") bracketed with Miss Gwenda +Vaughan's was a state of things which, though occasioned only by a +simple coincidence, elated him beyond measure. He had indeed, he +thought, stepped out of the old order of things and made his way into a +higher grade of life by an easy bound. He was careful, however, to +hide his gratified pride entirely from those around him. + +After lunch, Mrs. Trevor proposed a stroll through the conservatories, +and while the elders stopped to admire a fern or a rare exotic, Will +and Gwenda roamed on under the palms and greenery to where a sparkling +fountain rose, and flung its feathery spray into the air. + +"Will you sit down?" said Will, pointing to a seat which stood +invitingly near. "You must be tired after your long walk." + +"Tired? Oh no, I love walking, and am very strong, but we can rest +till the others come up." + +And sitting down together they watched the gold fish in the fountain's +rustic basin. Through the glass they could see the sparkling frosty +branches outside against the pale blue sky of a winter's day, the sun +shining round and red through the afternoon haze. + +"What a glorious day," said Gwenda at last. + +"Yes," answered Will, adding a little under his breath, "one I shall +never forget." + +There was something in the tone of his voice which caused a little +flutter of consciousness under Gwenda's fur necklet. She made no +answer, and, after a moment, changed the subject, though with no +displeasure in her voice. + +"Do you see those prismatic colours in the spray?" + +"Yes, beautiful!" answered Will, rather absently. + +He was wondering whether all this was a dream--that he, Will Owen of +Garthowen Farm, was sitting here under the palms and exotics with Miss +Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny. At last Gwenda rallied him. + +"You are dreaming," she said playfully. + +"I am afraid I am." + +At this moment the rest of the party appeared, and they all returned to +the house together. + +Will looked at his watch. + +"I think I must go," he said. "I have a lecture to attend." + +"Well," said his uncle, "we won't detain you from that. Quite right, +my boy, never neglect your lectures. I shall see you again to-morrow." + +"Now, don't wait for an invitation," said Mrs. Trevor hospitably, "but +come and see us as often as you can. Your uncle is quite at home here, +and we shall be delighted if you will make yourself so too!" + +"I shall only be too glad to avail myself of your kindness." + +"I will come with you to the gate," said his uncle, and Will went out +in a maze of happiness. + +"My dear boy," said Dr. Owen, taking his arm as they passed together up +the broad avenue, "I have done a good thing for you to-day. I have +introduced you to the nicest family in the neighbourhood. Keep up +their acquaintance, it will give you a good standing." + +"You are very good to me, sir," said Will. "I don't know how to thank +you." + +"By going on as you have begun, William. I am very pleased to find you +such a congenial companion. I mean to be good to you, better than you +can imagine. I am a lonely old man, and you must come and brighten up +my home for me." + +"Anything I can do," said Will warmly. + +"Well, well, no promises, my dear boy. I shall see how you go on. I +believe we shall get on very well together. Good-bye, I shall see you +tomorrow." + +"You evidently take a great interest in your nephew," said Mrs. Trevor, +on the Dr.'s return to the house, "and I am not surprised. He seems a +very nice fellow, so natural and unaffected, and so like you in +appearance; he might be a son of yours." + +"Yes," said Dr. Owen thoughtfully, "I am greatly pleased with him. You +see I am a lonely man. I have no one else to care for, so I shall +watch the young man's career with great interest. He will be +everything to me, and with God's help I will do everything for him." + +"He is a lucky fellow indeed," said Mrs. Trevor. + +"Well, yes, I think he will be." + +Gwenda was sitting quietly at work in the bay window, where not a word +of this conversation was lost upon her. Was it possible that bright +hopes were dawning even for her, who had been tossed about from early +girlhood upon the sea of matrimonial schemes? Schemes from which her +honest nature had revolted; for Gwenda Vaughan had within her a fund of +right feeling and common sense, a warmth of heart which none of the +frivolous, shallow-minded men with whom she had come in contact had +ever moved. Attracted only by her beauty, they sought for nothing +else, while she, conscious of a depth of tenderness waiting for the +hand which should unseal its fountain, turned with unsatisfied +yearnings from all her admirers and so-called "lovers." She had felt +differently towards Will from the day when he had, as she thought, +saved her life, and when he had ridden home with her foot in his hand. +A strange feeling of attraction had inclined her towards him, all the +romance in her nature, which had been stunted and checked by the +manoeuvres and manners of country "society," turned towards this +stalwart "son of the soil" who had so unexpectedly crossed her path. +She had not thought it possible that her romantic dreams could be +realised; such things were not for her! In her case everything was to +be sacrificed to the duty of "making a good match," of settling herself +advantageously in the world, but now what did she hear? "I will do +everything for him," surely that meant "I will make him my heir!" For +wealth and position for their own sakes she cared not a straw, but +Will's "prospects," the sickening word that had been dinned into her +ears for years, began to arouse a deep interest in her mind. Her heart +told her that he was not entirely indifferent to her, and experience +had taught her that when she laid herself out to please she never +failed to do so. All day she was very silent until at last Mrs. Trevor +said: + +"You are very quiet to-day, love; I really shall begin to think you +have fallen in love with Dr. Owen's nephew. A charming young man, +certainly, and I should think his prospects--" + +"Oh, stop, dear Mrs. Trevor! _Prospects_! I am sick of the word. +Shall I play you something?" And in the twilight she sat down to the +piano. + +"Do, dear; I love to see you on that music stool," said the good lady; +and well she might, for Gwenda was a musician from the soul to the +finger tips, and this evening she seemed possessed by the spirit of +music, for long after the twilight had faded into darkness, she sat +there pouring her very heart out in melody, and when she retired to +rest her pillow was surrounded by thoughts and visions of happiness, +more romantic and tender than had ever visited her before. + +As the year sped on its course, Will's college life became more and +more absorbing. The greater part of his vacations were always spent at +Isderi, his uncle's house, situated some twenty miles up the valley of +the On. Invited with his uncle to all the gaieties of the +neighbourhood, he frequently met Gwenda Vaughan. Their attraction for +each other soon ripened into a deeper feeling, and in the opinion of +her friends and acquaintances Gwenda was a fortunate girl, Will being +regarded only as the nephew and probable heir of the wealthy Dr. Owen, +very few knowing of or remembering his connection with the old +grey-gabled farm by the sea. + +A hurried scrap-end of the time at his disposal was spent at Garthowen, +where his father was consumed alternately by a feverish longing to see +him, and a bitter disappointment at the shortness of his visit. He was +beginning to find out that the love--almost idolatry--which he had +lavished upon his son did not bring him the comfort and happiness for +which he had hoped. + +Will was affable and sometimes affectionate in his demeanour while he +was present with his father; but he showed no desire to prolong his +visits beyond the time allotted him by his uncle, who seemed more and +more to appropriate to himself the nephew whose acquaintance he had so +lately made. This in itself chafed and irritated Ebben Owens, and he +felt a bitter anger against the brother who had ignored him for so +long, and was now stealing from him what was more precious to him than +life itself. He tried to rejoice in his son's golden prospects, and +perhaps would have succeeded had Will shown himself less ready to drop +the old associations of home and the past, and a more tender clinging +to the friends of his youth; but this was far from being Will's state +of feeling. More and more he felt how incongruous were the simple ways +of Garthowen with the formal and polished manners of his uncle's +household, and that of the society to which his uncle's prestige had +given him the entree. He was not so callous as to feel no pain at the +necessity of withdrawing himself entirely from his old relations with +Garthowen, but he considered it his bounden duty to do so. He had +chosen his path; he had put his hand to the plough, and he must not +look back, and the dogged persistence which was a part of his nature +came to his assistance. + +"_I_ could pay all your expenses, my boy," said his father, with a +touching humility unnoticed by Will. "I have been saving up all my +money since you went to college, and now there it is lying idle in the +bank." + +"Well, father, it would only offend my uncle if I did not let him +supply all my wants; and as my future depends so much upon him, would +it be wise of me to do that?" + +"No, no, my boy, b'tshwr, it wouldn't. I am a foolish old man, and +must not keep my boy back when he is getting on so grand. Och fi! Och +fi!" and he sighed deeply. + +"Och fi!" laughed Ann and Will together. + +"One would think 'twas the downward path Will was going," said the +former. + +"No, no!" replied the old man, "'tis the path of life I was thinking +of, my children. You don't know it yet, but when you come to my age +perhaps you will understand it," and he sighed again wearily. + +He had altered much of late, a continual sadness seemed to have fallen +on his spirit, the old pucker on his forehead was seldom absent now, he +was irritable and ready to take offence, and if not spoken to, would +remain silently brooding in the chimney corner. + +On the contrary, Ann's whole nature seemed to have expanded. Her happy +married life drew out the brightness and cheerfulness which perhaps had +been a little lacking in her early girlhood. + +Gwilym Morris was an ideal husband; tender and affectionate as a woman, +but withal firm and steady as steel; a strong support in worldly as +well as spiritual affairs. Latterly the extreme narrowness of the +Calvinistic doctrines, which had made his sermons so unlike his daily +practice, had given place to broader views, and a more elevating +realisation of the Creator's love. Many hours he spent with Sara in +her herb garden, on the moor, or sitting by the crackling fire, +conversing on things of spiritual import; and the well-read scholar +confessed that he had learnt much from the simple woman, the keen +perception of whose sensitive soul, had in a great measure separated +her from her kind, and had made her to be avoided as something uncanny +or "hyspis." + +And what of Morva? To her, too, time had brought its changes. She was +now two years older, and certainly more than two years wiser, for upon +her clear mind had dawned in unmistakeable characters of light, the +truth, that her relations with Will were wrong. She knew now that she +did not love him--she knew now it would be sinful to marry him, and she +sought only for a way in which she could with the least pain to him, +sever the connection between them. She saw plainly, that Will had +ceased to love her, and she rejoiced at the idea that it would not be +difficult therefore to persuade him to release her from her promise. +When one day she met him on the path to the moor, and he tried as of +old to draw her nearer and imprint a kiss on her lips she started from +him. + +"No, Will," she said, "that must not be. You must let me go now. Do +you think I do not see you have changed, that you have ceased to love +me?" + +Will noticed at once the dropping of the familiar "thee" and "thou"; +and in his strange nature, where good and bad were for ever struggling +with each other, a fierce anger awoke. That she--Morva! a shepherdess! +a milkmaid! should dare to oppose the wishes of the man who had once +ruled her heart, and at whose beck and call she would have come as +obediently as Tudor--that she should now set her will in opposition to +his, and dare to ruffle the existence which had met with nothing but +favour and success, was unbearable. + +"What dost mean by these words, lodes?[1] how have I ever shown that I +have forgotten thee? Dost expect me, who have my studies to employ me, +and my future to consider--dost expect me to come philandering here on +the cliffs after a shepherdess?" + +"No," said Morva, trying to curb her hot Welsh temper, which rushed +through her veins, "no! I only ask you to free me from my promise. I +have sworn that I would keep it, but if you do not wish it, He will not +expect me to keep my vow. I see that plainly. It would be a sin--so +let me go, Will," and her voice changed to plaintive entreaty; "I will +be the same loving sister to you as ever--set me free!" + +"Never," said Will, the old cruel obstinacy taking possession of him, a +vindictive anger rising within him against the man whom he suspected +had taken his place in the girl's heart. Gethin--the wild and roving +sailor! No! he should never have her. + +"Thou canst break thy promises," he said, turning on his heel, "and +marry another man if thou wilt, but remember _I_ have never set thee +free. I have never agreed to give thee up;" and without another word +he passed round the broom bushes, leaving Morva alone gazing out over +the blue bay. + +As he returned to the farm he was filled with indignation and anger. +The obstinacy which was so strong a trait in his character was the real +cause of his refusal to give Morva her freedom, for the old love for +her was fast giving place to his new-born passion for Gwenda Vaughan, +which had grown steadily ever since he had first met her. + + + +[1] Girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ISDERI + +Three miles above Llaniago, the river On, which had flowed peaceably +and calmly for some miles through fair meadows and under the spanning +arches of many a bridge, seemed to grow weary of its staid behaviour +and suddenly to return to the playful manners of its youth. In its +wild exuberance it was scarcely recognisable as the placid river which, +further in its course, flowed through Llaniago and Castell On. With +fret and fume and babbling murmurs it made its way through its rocky +channel, filling the air with the sound of its turmoil. Both sides of +its precipitous banks down to the water's edge were hidden in woods of +stunted oak, through whose branches the sound of its flow made +continual music, music which this evening reached the ears of a +solitary man, who sat at the open window of a large house standing near +the top of the ravine, its well-kept grounds and velvet lawn reaching +down to the very edge of the oak wood, and even stretching into its +depths in many a green glade and avenue. There was no division or +boundary between the wood and the lawn, so that the timid hares and +pheasants would often leave their leafy haunts to disport themselves +upon its soft turf. It was Dr. Owen who, contrary to his usual careful +habits, sat at that open window in the gathering twilight, dreaming +dreams which were borne to him on the sound of the rushing waters, +which lulled his senses, and brought before him the scenes of his past +life. The twilight darkened into gloom, and still he sat on in +brooding thought, letting the voice of the river bear to him on its +wings sweet memories or sad retrospect as it chose. The early days of +his childhood came back to him, when with a light heart he had roamed +over moor and sandy beach, or over the grassy slopes of Garthowen. The +river still sang on, and before him rose the vision of a man of homely +and rustic appearance, who urged and encouraged his youthful ardour in +the pursuit of knowledge, who rejoiced at his successes, and supplied +his wants, who laid his hand upon his young head with a dying blessing. +How vividly the scene returned to him! The dismay of the household +when that rugged figure disappeared from the scene, the difficulties +which had crowded his path in the further pursuance of his education, +the arduous steps up the ladder of learning, the perseverance crowned +with success! Still the rushing river filled his ears and brought +before him its phantom memories--his successful career in the +Church--his prosperous marriage, the calm domestic life which +followed--the wealth--the honour--the prestige--what had they led +to?--an empty home, a solitary hearth, no heir to inherit his riches, +no young voices to fill the house with music and laughter--no--it had +all turned to dust and ashes--there was no one to whom he could confide +his joys or his sorrows--he was alone in the world, but need it always +be so? and again he listened, deep in thought, to the spirit voices +which the roar of the river seemed to carry into his soul. What a +change would Will's presence bring into his life. How much ruddier +would be the glow of the fire! how much more cosy the lonely hearth! +How pleasant it would be to see him always seated at the well-appointed +table! how the silver and glass would sparkle! how they would wake the +echoes of the old house with happy talk and merry laughter! and the old +man became quite enamoured of the picture which his imagination had +conjured up. + +"Yes," he said aloud, for there was no one to hear him, "I will no +longer live alone; I will adopt Will as my son and heir. I think he is +all I could wish him to be, and I believe he will reflect credit on my +choice." + +And when he closed the window and turned to his book and reading-lamp +it was with a pleased smile of content, and a determination to carry +out his plans without delay. Will should be fully informed of his +intentions. + +"It will give him confidence," thought the old man, and the feeling of +kinship which had so long slept within him began to awake and to fill +his heart with a warm glow which he had missed so long, though perhaps +unconsciously. + +In the following week Will came for a two days' visit, and Dr. Owen +looked forward to their evening smoke with eager impatience. When at +last they were seated in the smoking-room and Will had, with thoughtful +care, pushed the footstool towards him and placed the lamp in his +favourite position on the table at his back, he no longer delayed the +hour of communication. + +"Thank you, my boy, I quite miss you when you are away; you seem to +fall into your place here so naturally I almost wish your college life +was over so that I might see more of you." + +"It would be strange if I did not feel at home here, you are so +indulgent to me, uncle. If I were your own son I don't think you could +be kinder." + +"Well, Will, that is what I want you to become--my own son, the comfort +of my declining years, and the heir to my property when I die. Does +that agree with your own plans for the future, or does it clash with +your inclination?" + +"Sir! Uncle!" exclaimed Will, in delighted astonishment, "how can I +answer such a question? Such a change in my prospects takes my breath +away. What can I say to you? I had never thought of such a thing," +and he rose, with a heightened colour and an air of excited surprise, +which left Dr. Owen no doubt as to the reality of his feelings. They +were not, however, altogether real, for Will had latterly begun to +suspect the true meaning of his uncle's kindness to him. + +"There is only one thing to be said, sir. Did it clash with my own +plans there would be no sacrifice too great for me to make in return +for your kindness. But you must know, uncle, that not only the ties of +gratitude compel me, but the bonds of relationship and affection (may I +say love) are strong upon me, and I can only answer once more that I +accept your generosity with the deepest gratitude. I little thought a +year ago that I should ever feel towards you as I do now. I felt a +foolish, boyish resentment at the enstrangement between you and my +father, but now I am wiser, I see the reason of it. I know how +impossible it would be to combine the social duties of a man in your +position with continued intimate relations with your old home. The +impossibility of it even now hampers me, uncle, and I feel that it will +be well for me to break away from the old surroundings if I am ever to +make my way up the ladder of life. Your generous intentions towards me +smooth this difficulty, and I can only thank you again, uncle, from my +heart. I hope my conduct through life may be such that you will never +regret the step you have taken, certainly I shall endeavour to make it +so." + +"Agreed, my boy!" said the Dr., holding out his hand, which Will +grasped warmly, "we understand each other, from this time forward you +are my adopted son; the matter is settled, let us say no more about +it," and for a few moments the two men followed the train of their own +thoughts in silence. + +"How plainly we hear the On to-night," said Will, "it seems to fill the +air. Shall I close the window?" + +"Yes," said Dr. Owen, "if you like, Will; I have never heard it so +plainly before. There is something solemn at all times in the sound; +but to you it can bring no sad memories from the days gone bye, you +have so lately left that wonderful past, which, as we grow older, +becomes ever more and more bathed in the golden tints of imagination, +'that light which never was on sea or land.' You owe something to +those rushing waters, Will, for while I sat here alone one evening, +they flooded my soul with old and tender memories, and bore in upon me +the advisability of the offer which I have just made you, and to which +you have agreed." + +Not a word was said as to the possibility of Ebben Owens objecting to +the arrangement, in fact, neither of them thought of the old man, who +even now was sitting in the chimney corner at Garthowen, building +castles in the air, and dreaming dreams in which Will ever played the +part of hero. + +Later on, when the latter lay wakeful in the silent hours of night, the +distant roar of the river carried home to his heart too, the memory of +the old homestead, of many a scene of his careless and happy boyhood, +and of the old man, the warmth of whose affection for him he was +beginning to find rather irksome and embarrassing. + +On the following day Dr. Owen called all his servants together, and in +a few words but with a very decided manner, made them acquainted with +the important step which he had taken with regard to Will, and bade +them bear in mind, that for the future, his nephew would hold, next to +himself, the highest place in the household. Will had been careful to +ingratiate himself as much as possible with the old servants, whose +opinions he thought might weigh somewhat in their master's decisions, +the younger ones he treated with a somewhat haughty bearing. + +"You will be coming again next week," said the Dr., as they both sat at +dinner together; "the Trevors are coming, you know, to spend a few days +with me, a long promised visit. We shall have a day with the otter +hounds. Colonel Vaughan and Miss Gwenda are coming too, did I tell +you?" + +"No," said Will, "I did not know that. Do they often stay with you?" + +"No, they have never been here before. They were dining at the +Trevors. I included them in the invitation, and they promised to come. +Miss Gwenda is a great favourite of mine, and of yours, Will, eh? Am I +right?" + +Will's handsome face flushed as he answered with some embarrassment, +for he was not at all sure that his uncle would approve of the +entanglement of a love affair. + +"I--I. Well, sir, no one can be acquainted with Miss Vaughan without +being impressed by her charms both of mind and person, but further than +that, it would--I have no right to--in fact, uncle, it would be madness +for a young man in my station, I mean--of my obscure birth, to think of +a young lady like Miss Vaughan." + +"Oh, that you can leave out of your calculations henceforth, I imagine. +I know the world better than you do, Will, and I shall be much +surprised if the advantages of being my adopted son and my heir will +not far outweigh the fact of your rustic birth. Money is the lever +which moves the world now-a-days. That has been my experience, and, if +you act up to the position which I offer you, your old home will not +stand in your way much. Of course I need not tell a young man of your +sense and shrewdness that it will not be necessary for you to allude to +it. Let the past die a natural death." + +This was exactly what Will meant to do, but, expressed in his uncle's +cold, business-like tones, its callousness jarred upon him, and he felt +some twinges of conscience, and a regretful sympathy with his old +father rose in his heart, which brought a lump in his throat and an +unwonted moisture in his eyes. But he mastered the feeling, and +assumed an air of pleased compliance which for the moment he did not +feel. + +"As for Gwenda Vaughan," continued his uncle, "you could never make a +choice that would please me better; and, if she is at all inclined +towards you, I fancy you will find your stay together here will mark a +new era in your acquaintance." + +"I do not think she dislikes me," said Will; "but more than that it +would be presumption on my part to expect." + +"H'm. Faint heart never won fair lady," laughed the Dr. + +Will left Isderi much elated by his good fortune. Fortunately for him, +he was possessed of a full share of common sense which came to his aid +at this dangerous crisis of his life and prevented his head being +completely turned by the bright hopes and golden prospects which his +uncle's conversation suggested to him. It had been settled between +them that it would be advisable not to make Ebben Owens at once +acquainted with their plans, but to let the fact dawn upon him +gradually. + +"He will like it, my dear boy," said his uncle, when Will a little +demurred to the necessity of keeping his father in the dark; "he will +be proud of it when he sees the real and tangible advantages which you +will gain by the arrangement. You will go and see him sometimes as +before, and it need make no difference in your manner towards him, +which, I have no doubt, has always been that of a dutiful son." + +One day in the following week, Will returned to Isderi; and it was with +a delightful feeling of prospective proprietorship that he slipped into +the high dog-cart which his uncle sent for him. He took the reins, +naturally, into his own hands, and the servant seemed to sink naturally +into his place beside him; and if, as he drove with a firm hand the +high-stepping, well-groomed horse along the high-road, he felt his +heart swell with pride and self congratulation, can it be wondered at? + +On reaching the drive, which wound through the park-like grounds, he +overtook his uncle and Colonel Vaughan. Alighting, he joined them; and +Dr. Owen introduced him to his visitor. + +"Ah! yes, yes, your nephew of course--we have met before," said the old +man awkwardly, and he shook hands with Will in a bewildered manner. +"Of course, of course; I remember your pluck when you tackled that +bull. Pommy word I think Gwenda owes her life to you. I shall never +forget that, you know." + +"Well, you must give me a fuller account of that affair some day," said +Dr. Owen. "You are come just in time, Will. Colonel Vaughan suggests +that a break in those woods, so as to show the river, would be an +improvement, and I think I agree with him. What do you say to the +idea?" + +"I think Colonel Vaughan is quite right, uncle; the same thing had +already struck me." + +"That's right; then that settles the matter," said Dr. Owen, who had +determined to leave no doubt in his guest's mind of his nephew's +importance in his estimation, and of his generous intentions towards +him. + +Gwenda was sitting alone in the drawing-room when Will entered, and it +was a great relief to him that this was the case, for he was not yet so +completely accustomed to the small convenances of society as to feel no +awkwardness or nervousness upon some occasions. Free from the +restraint of Mrs. Trevor's presence, however, he made no attempt to +hide the pleasure which his meeting with Gwenda aroused in him. She +was looking very beautiful in a dress of some soft white material, and +as she held out her hand to Will a strange feeling came over him, a +feeling that that sweet face would for ever be his lodestar, and that +firm little white hand would help him on the path of life. He scarcely +dared to believe that the blush and the drooping eyes were caused by +his arrival, but it was not long before he had conquered his +diffidence, and remembering his golden prospects had recovered his +self-confidence sufficiently to talk naturally and unrestrainedly. + +"Never saw such a thing," said the old colonel, later on in the day, to +his niece, sitting down beside her for a moment's talk, under cover of +a song which Mrs. Trevor was singing. "Dr. Owen seems wrapped up in +his nephew, and the fellow seems to take it all as naturally as a duck +takes to the water. Pommy word, he's a lucky young dog." + +And naturally and quietly Will did take his place in the household, +never pleasing his uncle more than when he sometimes unconsciously gave +an order to the servants, and so took upon himself the duties which +would have devolved upon him had he been his son instead of his nephew. + +Gradually, too, Colonel Vaughan became accustomed to the change in the +"young fellow's" circumstances, and accepted the situation with +equanimity. Will left no stone unturned to ingratiate himself with the +old man, and was very successful in his attempts. So much so, that +when he and Gwenda would sometimes step out of the French window +together, and roam through the garden and under the oak trees side by +side, her uncle noticed it no more than he would have had Will been one +of the average young men of On-side society. + +Meanwhile, for the two young people, the summer roses had a deeper +glow, the river a sweeter murmur, and the sky a brighter tint than they +had ever had before; and while Gwenda sat under the shade of the +gnarled oaks, with head bent over some bit of work, Will lying on the +green sward beside her in a dream of happiness, Mrs. Trevor watched +them from her seat in the drawing-room with a smile full of meaning, +and Dr. Owen with a look of pleased content. + +"You must find it a very pleasant change from hard study to come out +here sometimes," said Gwenda, drawing her needle out slowly. + +"Yes, very," said Will; "I never bring a book with me, and I try to +banish my studies from my mind while I am here." + +"Do you find that possible? I am afraid I have a very ill-regulated +mind, as an interesting subject will occupy my thoughts whether I like +it or not." + +"Well, of course," said Will, plucking at the grass, "there are some +subjects which never can be banished. There is one, at all events, +which permeates my whole life; which gilds every scene with beauty, and +which tinges even my dreams. Need I tell you what that is, Miss +Vaughan?" + +Gwenda's head bent lower, and there was a vivid glow on her cheek as +she answered: + +"Your life here must be so full of brightness, the scenes around you +are so lovely, it is no wonder if they follow you into your dreams. +But--but, Mr. Owen, I will not pretend to misunderstand you." + +"You understand me, and yet you are not angry with me? Only tell me +that, Miss Vaughan, and I shall be satisfied; and yet not quite +satisfied, for I crave your love, and can never be happy without it." + +There was no answer on Gwenda's lips, but the eyes, which were bent on +her work, grew humid with feeling. + +"I love you, but dare I have the presumption to hope that you return my +love? You know me here as my uncle's nephew, but it is not in that +character that I would wish you to think of me now." + +What was it in the girl's pure and honest face which seemed to bring +out Will's better nature? + +"I am only William Owens" (he even added the plebeian "s" to his name) +"the son of the old farmer Ebben Owens of Garthowen; 'tis true my uncle +calls me his son, and promises that I shall inherit his wealth, but +there is no legal certainty of that. He might die to-morrow, and I +should only be William Owens, the poor student of Llaniago College, and +yet I venture to tell you of my love. I think I must be mad! I seek +in vain for any possible reason why you should accept my love, and I +can find none." + +"Only the best of all reasons," said Gwenda, almost in a whisper. + +"Gwenda! what is that?" said Will, rising to his feet, an action which +the girl followed before she answered. + +"Only because I love you too." + +"Gwenda!" said Will again. + +They had been resting on the velvet lawn that reached down to the oak +wood, and now they turned towards its shady glades, and Mrs. Trevor, +who had been watching them with deep interest, was obliged to control +her curiosity until, when an hour later, they entered the house +together, Will looking flushed and triumphant, and Gwenda with a glow +of happiness which told its own tale to her observant friend. + +"It's all right, my love, I see it is! I needn't ask any questions, he +who runs may read! You have accepted him?" + +"I don't know what my uncle will say, it all depends upon that." + +"Never mind what he says, my dear. You and I together will manage him, +we'll make him say just what we please, so _that's_ settled!" + +In fact, Will's wooing seemed to belie the usual course of true love. +Upon it as upon everything else connected with him, the fates seemed to +smile, and Colonel Vaughan was soon won over by Gwenda's persuasions. + +"Well! pommy word, you know, Gwenda, I like the young fellow myself. +Somehow or other he has taken us by storm. Of course, I should have +been better pleased if he were Dr. Owen's son instead of his nephew." + +"Well, he is next thing to it, uncle," said the girl coaxingly. "He is +his adopted son, and will inherit all his wealth, and you know how +necessary it is for me to marry a rich man, as I haven't a penny +myself. Of course I will never marry him without your consent, uncle +dear, but then I am going to get it," and she sat on his knee and drew +her soft hands over his bald head, turning his face up like a cherub's, +and pressing her full red lips on his wiry moustache. + +"Not a penny yourself! Well! well! we'll see about that. Be good, +girl, and love your old uncle, and I daresay he won't leave you +penniless. But, pommy word! look here, child, we must ask him here to +stay a few days. He won't be bringing old Owens Garthowen here, I +hope; couldn't bear that, you know." + +"I am afraid he doesn't see much of his old father and sister," she +said pensively. + +"Afraid! I should think you would be delighted." + +"No, I should prefer his being manly enough to stick to his own people, +and brave the opinion of the world. _I_ should not be ashamed of the +old man; but, of course, I would never thrust him upon my relations." + +"Well! well! you are an odd little puss, and know how to get over your +old uncle, whatever!" + +And so all went smoothly for Will. At the end of two years he took his +degree, and another year saw him well through his college course; +complimented by his fellow students, praised and flattered by his +uncle, and loved by as sweet a girl as ever sprang from a Welsh stock. + +Before entering upon the curacy which his uncle procured for him with +as little delay as possible, he spent a few days at Garthowen, during +which time he was made the idol of his family. Full of new hopes and +ambitions, he scarcely thought of Morva, who kept out of his way as +much as possible, dreading only the usual request that she would meet +him by the broom bushes; but no such request came, and, if the truth be +told, he never remembered to seek an interview with her, so filled was +his mind with thoughts of Gwenda. + +He had been studiously reticent with regard to his engagement to her, +at her special request. She knew how much gossip the news would +occasion, and felt that the less it was talked about beforehand the +less likelihood there would be of her relations being irritated and +annoyed by ill-natured remarks. She was happier than she had ever +hoped to be, and if she sometimes saw in her lover a trait of character +which did not entirely meet the approbation of her honest nature, she +laid the flattering unction to her soul, "When we are married I will +try to make him perfect." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +GWENDA AT GARTHOWEN + +On the slope of the moor, where the autumn sun was burnishing the furze +and purpling the heather, Morva sat knitting, her nimble fingers outrun +by her busy thoughts. + +She was sitting half way up the moor, an old cloak wrapped round her +and its hood drawn over her head, for the wind was keen, blowing fresh +from the bright blue bay, which stretched before her to the hazy +horizon. Her eyes gazed absently over its azure surface, flecked with +white, as though with scattered snowflakes, and dotted here and there +with the grey sails of the boats which the herring fishery called out +from their moorings under the cliffs. She sat at the edge of a +rush-bordered pool in the peaty bog, occasionally bending over it to +look at her own image reflected on its glassy surface. Between the +folds of the old cloak glistened the necklace of shells which Gethin +had given her. It was her twentieth birthday, so she seized the excuse +for wearing the precious ornament which generally lay locked in its +painted casket on the shelf at her bed head. It was not at herself she +gazed, but the ever-changing gleam of the shells was irresistible. How +well she remembered that evening when in the moonlight under the elder +tree at Garthowen, Gethin had held them out to her, with a dawning love +in his eyes, and her heart had bounded towards him with that strong +impulse, which alas! she now knew was love!--love that permeated her +whole being, that drew her thoughts away on the wings of the wind, over +the restless sea, away, away, to distant lands and foreign ports. +Where did he roam? What foreign shores did his footsteps tread? In +what strange lands was he wandering? far from his home, far from the +hearts that loved him and longed for his return! The swallows flew in +fluttering companies over the moor, beginning to congregate for their +departure across the seas. Oh! that she could borrow their wings, and +fly with them across that sad dividing ocean, and, finding Gethin, +could flutter down to him and shelter on his breast, and twitter to him +such a song of love and home that he should understand and turn his +steps once more towards the old country! + +Will never troubled her now, never asked her to meet him behind the +broom bushes. He had ceased to love her, she knew, and although he had +never freed her from her promise, Morva had too much common sense to +feel bound for ever to a man who had so evidently forgotten her. If +sometimes the meanness and selfishness of his conduct dawned upon her +mind, the feeling was instantly repressed, and as far as possible +banished, in obedience to the instinct of loyalty to Garthowen, which +was so strong a trait in her character. + +She turned again to look at her necklace in the pool, and caught sight +of a speck of vivid scarlet on the brow of the hill--another and +another. They were the huntsmen returning from their unsuccessful run, +for she had seen the breathless panting fox an hour before when he +crossed the moor and made for his covert on the rocky sides of the +cliffs. Once there, the hunters knew the chase was over. And there +were the tired hounds for a moment appearing at the bare hill-top. In +a few moments they had passed from sight, leaving the moor to its usual +solitude and silence. But surely no! Here was one stray figure who +turned towards the cliffs, and, alighting, led her horse down the +devious paths between the furze and heather. Such an uncommon sight +roused Morva from her dreams. + +"Can I come down this way?" said a clear, girlish voice, as Gwenda +Vaughan drew near. She spoke in very broken Welsh, but Morva +understood her. "Does it lead anywhere?" + +"It leads nowhere," said Morva, "but to the cliffs; but round there +beyond the Cribserth," and she pointed to the rugged ridge of rocks, +"is Garthowen; up there to the right is nothing but moorland for two +miles." + +"Oh, then I will turn this way," said Gwenda. "Will they let me rest +at the farm a while, do you think? I am very tired and hungry." + +"Oh, of course," said Morva, her hospitable instincts awaking at once. +"Come into mother's cottage," and she pointed to the thatched roof and +chimney, which alone were visible above the heathery knoll. + +"Is that a cottage?" + +"Yes--will you come?" + +"Yes, just for a moment, and then perhaps you will show me the way to +the farm. That Cribserth looks a formidable rampart. Are you sure +there is a way round it?" + +"Oh, yes; I will come and show you," said Morva. "Here is mother," and +Sara approached from her herb garden with round, astonished eyes. + +"Well, indeed!" she said; "this is a pleasant sight--a lady coming to +see us, and on Morva's birthday, too! Come in, 'merch i, and sit down +and rest. The horse will be safe tied there to the gate." + +And Gwenda passed into the cottage with a strange feeling of happiness. + +"Now, what shall I give you?" said Sara. "A cup of milk, or a cup of +tea? or, I have some meth here in the corner. My bees are busy on the +wild thyme and furze, you see, so we have plenty of honey for our meth." + +"I would like a cup of meth," said Gwenda; and as she drank the +delicious sparkling beverage, Sara gazed at her with such evident +interest that she was constrained to ask: + +"Why do you look at me so?" + +"Because I think I have seen you before," said the old woman. + +"Not likely," replied Gwenda, "unless in the streets at Castell On." + +"I have not been there for twenty years," said Sara. "It must be in my +dreams, then." + +"Perhaps! What delicious meth! Who would think there was room for +house and garden scooped out on the moor here; and such a dear +sheltered hollow." + +Sara smiled. + +"Yes; we are safe and peaceful here." + +Morva had taken the opportunity of doffing her necklace and placing it +in the box. + +"I am going to show the young lady the way to Garthowen, mother." + +"Yes; it is easy from there to Castell On," said Sara; "the farm lane +will lead you into the high road. But 'tis many, many years since I +have been that way." + +The chat fell into quite a friendly and familiar groove, for Sara and +Morva knew nothing of the restraints of class and conventionality. + +"I am so glad I came; but I must go now," said Gwenda, rising at last. +"My name is Gwenda Vaughan," she added, turning to Morva. "What is +yours?" + +"Mine is Morva Lloyd; but I am generally called Morva of the Moor, I +think. Mother's is Sara." + +"Good-bye, and thank you very much," said Gwenda, and Sara held her +hand a moment between her own soft palms, while she looked into the +girl's face. + +"You have a sweet, good face," she said. "Thank you for coming, 'merch +i; in some way you will bring us good." + +And again that strangely happy feeling came over Gwenda. Rounding the +Cribserth, the two girls soon reached Garthowen. It was afternoon, and +drawing near tea-time. Ebben Owens was already sitting on the settle +in the best kitchen, waiting for it, when the sound of voices without +attracted his attention. + +"Caton pawb!" he said, "a lady, and Morva is bringing her." + +Ann hastened to the front door, and Morva led the horse away, knowing +well that she was leaving the visitor in hospitable hands. + +"I am Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny! I have been out hunting today, and on +the top of the hill I felt so tired that I made up my mind to call here +and ask if you would let me rest awhile." + +"Oh, certainly! Come in," said Ann, holding out her hand, which Gwenda +took warmly. + +"Miss Owen, I suppose?" + +"I was Ann Owens," she said, blushing. "I am Mrs. Gwilym Morris now +these three years. This is my little boy," she added, as a chubby, +curly-headed child toddled towards her. She had already opened the +door of the best kitchen. "There is no fire in the parlour," she +apologised, "or I would take you there." + +"Oh, no; please let me come to your usual sitting-room. Is this your +father?" + +And she held out her hand again. There was something in her face that +always ensured its own welcome. + +"Yes, I am Ebben Owens," said the old man, "and very glad to see you, +though I not know who you are." + +"I am Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny, come to ask if you will let me rest +awhile. I have been out with the fox-hounds; we have had a long run, +and I am so tired." + +She had no other excuse to give for her inroad upon their hearth; but +in Wales no excuse is required for a call. + +"Well, indeed," said the old man, rubbing his knees with pleasure, +"there's a good thing now, you come just in time for tea. I think I +have heard your name, but I not know where. Oh, yes. I remember now; +'twas you the bull was running after in the market, and my boy Will +stop it; 'twas good thing, indeed, you may be kill very well!" + +Gwenda stopped to pat Tudor to hide the blush that rose to her cheek as +she answered: + +"Yes, indeed, and of course we were very grateful to him!" + +"Oh, yes; he's very good fellow. Will you take off your hat? 'Tis not +often we're having visitors here, so we are very glad when anybody is +come." + +"I was afraid, perhaps, I was taking rather a liberty," said Gwenda, +laying her hat and gloves aside, "but you are all so kind, you make me +feel quite at home." + +"That's right," said the old man; "there's a pity now, my son-in-law, +Gwilym Morris, is not at home. He was go to Castell On to-day to some +meeting there. What was it? Let me see--some hard English word." + +"I can speak Welsh," said Gwenda, turning to that language. + +"Oh! wel din!" said the old man, relieved, and continuing in Welsh, +"'tisn't every lady can speak her native language nowadays." + +"No. I am ashamed of my countrywomen, though I speak it very badly +myself," said Gwenda. + +"There's my son Will now, indeed I'm afraid he will soon forget his +Welsh, he is speaking English so easy and smooth. Come here, Ann," the +old man called, as his daughter passed busily backwards and forwards +spreading the snowy cloth and laying the tea-table. "The lady can +speak Welsh!" + +"Oh! well indeed, I am glad," said Ann; "Will is the only one of us who +speaks English quite easily." + +"Oh! there's Gwilym," said her father. + +"Yes, Gwilym speaks it quite correctly," said Ann, with pride, "but he +has a Welsh accent, which Will has not--from a little boy he studied +the English, and to speak it like the English." + +"Will is evidently their centre of interest," thought Gwenda, "and how +little he seems to think of them!" + +Here the little curly pate came nestling against her knee. + +"Hello! rascal!" said the old man, "don't pull the lady's skirts like +that." + +But Gwenda took the child on her lap. + +"He is a lovely boy," she said, thus securing Ann's good opinion at +once. + +The little arms wound round her neck, and before tea was over she had +won her way into all their hearts. + +"I am sorry my sons are not here," said the old man; "they are good +boys, both of them, and would like to speak to such a beautiful young +lady." + +"Have you two sons, then?" asked Gwenda. + +"Yes, yes. Will, my second son, is a clergyman. He is curate of +Llansidan, 'tis about forty miles from here; but Gethin, my eldest son, +is a sailor; indeed, I don't know where he is now, but I am longing for +him to come home, whatever; and Will does not come often to see me. He +is too busy, I suppose, and 'tis very far." + +And Gwenda, sensitive and tender, heard a tremble in the old man's +voice, and detected the pain and bitterness of his speech. + +"Young men," she said, "are so often taken up with their work at first, +that they forget their old home, but they generally come back to it, +and draw towards it as they grow older; for after all, there is nothing +like the old home, and I should think this must have been a nest of +comfort indeed." + +"Well, I don't know. My two sons are gone over the nest, whatever; but +Ann is stopping with me, She is the home-bird." + +Gwenda thought she had never enjoyed such a tea. The tea cakes so +light, the brown bread so delicious; and Ann, with her quiet manners, +made a perfect hostess; so that, when she rose to go, she was as +reluctant to leave the old farmhouse as her entertainers were to lose +her. + +"Indeed, there's sorry I am you must go," said Ebben Owens. "Will you +come again some day?" + +"I will," said Gwenda, waving them a last good-bye; and as she rode +down the dark lane beyond the farmyard she said to herself, "And I +_will_ some day, please God!" + +Reaching the high road, she hurried down the hill to the valley below, +where Castell On lay nestled in the bend of the river. It was scarcely +visible in the darkening twilight, except here and there where a light +glimmered faintly. The course of the river was marked by a soft white +mist, and above it all, in the clear evening sky, hung the crescent +moon. The beauty of the scene before her reached Gwenda's heart, and +helped to fill her cup of happiness. Her visit to the farm had +strengthened her determination to turn her lover's heart back to his +old home. It was all plain before her now; she had a work to do, an +aim in life, not only to make her future husband happy, but to lead him +back into the path of duty, from which she clearly saw he had been +tempted to stray. There was no danger that she would take too harsh a +view of his fault, for her love for Will was strong and abiding. There +was little doubt that in that wonderful weaving of life's pattern, +which some people call "Fate" and some "Providence," Gwenda and Will +had been meant for each other. + +When she reached home she found a letter awaiting her--a letter in the +square clear writing which she had learned to look for with happy +longing. She hastened to her room to read it. It bore good +tidings--first, that Will had acceded to Mr. Price's request to preach +at Castell On the following Sunday; secondly and chiefly, that the +living of Llanisderi had been offered him, and had been accepted. + + +"The church is close to my uncle's property, and as he has always +wished me to make my home at Isderi, he now proposes that we should be +married at once, and take his house off his hands, only letting him +live on with us, which I think neither you nor I will object to. There +is no regular vicarage, so this arrangement seems all that could be +desired. Does my darling agree?" etc., etc. + + +Of course "his darling" agreed, stipulating only that their marriage +should take place in London, for she thought this plan would obviate +the necessity for inviting her husband's relations to her wedding, and +still cause them no pain. + +Will was delighted with the suggestion, for he had not been without +some secret twinges of compunction at the idea of being married at +Castell On, and still having none of his people at the wedding. That, +of course, in his own and his uncle's opinion was quite out of the +question; and so the matter was settled. + + * * * * * * + +One day there was great excitement at Garthowen. + +"Well, Bendigedig!" [1] said Magw under her breath, as crossing the +farmyard she met Mr. Price the vicar making his way through the stubble +to the house-door, "well, Bendigedig! there's grand we are getting. +Day before yesterday a lady on horseback, to-day Price the vicare +coming to see the mishteer! Well, well! Oh, yes, sare," she said +aloud, in answer to the vicar's inquiry, "he's there somewhere, or he +was there when I was there just now, but if he is not there he must be +somewhere else. Ann will find him." + +And she jerked her thumb towards the house as Mr. Price continued his +way laughing. + +"I am come again," said the genial vicar, shaking hands with Ebben +Owens, whom he found deeply studying the almanac, "I am come to +congratulate you on your son's good fortune. I hear he has been given +the living of Llanisderi, and I think he will fill it very well. You +are a fortunate man to have so promising a son and such an influential +brother, and I expect you will be still better pleased with the rest of +my news. He is going to preach at Castell On next Sunday." + +Ebben Owens gasped for breath. + +"Will!" he said, "my son Will? Oh! yes, he is a good boy, indeed, and +is he going to preach here on Sunday? Well, well, 'twill be a grand +day for me!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Price, "I hear he is a splendid preacher, and I thought +'twas a pity his old friends in this neighbourhood should not hear him, +so I asked him, and he has agreed to come. You must all come in and +hear him--you too, Mrs. Morris, and your husband." + +"My husband," said Ann, drawing herself up a little, "will have his own +services to attend to; but on such an occasion I will be there +certainly." + +"Well, you must all dine with me," said the hospitable vicar. + +"No, no, sir," said Ebben Owens, "I'll take the car, and we'll bring +Will back here to dinner. We'll have a goose, Ann, and a leg of mutton +and tongue." + +"Yes," said Ann, smiling, "Magw will see to them while we are at +church." + +Mr. Price stayed to tea this time, and satisfied the old man's heart by +his praises of his son. On his departure Ebben Owens sat down at once +to indite a letter to Will, informing him of the great happiness it had +given him to hear of his intention to preach at Castell On. + + +"Of course, my boy," he went on to say in his homely, rugged Welsh, "we +will be there to hear you, and I will drive you home in the car, and we +will have the fattest goose for dinner, and the best bedroom will be +ready for you. These few lines from + +"Your delighted and loving father, + + "EBBEN OWENS, + + "Garthowen." + + +Will crushed the letter with a sigh when he had read it, and threw it +into the fire, and the old Garthowen pucker on his forehead was only +chased away by the perusal of a letter from Gwenda, whose contents we +will not dare to pry into. + +Never were there such preparations for attending a service, as were +made at Garthowen before the next Sunday morning. Never had Bowler's +harness received such a polish, every buckle shone like burnished gold. +Ebben Owens had brushed his greatcoat a dozen times, and laid it on the +parlour table in readiness, and had drawn his sleeve every day over the +chimney-pot hat which he had bought for the occasion. + +When the auspicious morning arrived Ann arrayed herself in her black +silk, with a bonnet and cape of town fashion; and in the sunny frosty +morning they set off to Castell On, full of gratified pride and +pleasant anticipations. + +Leaving the car at a small inn near the church, they entered and took +their places modestly in the background. No one but he who reads the +secrets of all hearts knew what a tumult of feelings surged through the +breast of that rugged, bent figure as Will passed up the aisle, looking +handsomer than ever in his clerical garb. Thankfulness, pride, love, a +longing for closer communion with his son, were all in that throbbing +heart, but underneath and permeating all was the mysterious gnawing +pain that had lately cast its shadow over the old man's life. + +During the service both he and Ann were much perplexed by the +difficulty of finding their places in the prayer-book, and they were +greatly relieved when at last it was over and the sermon commenced. + +Mr. Price had not been misinformed. Will was certainly an eloquent +preacher, if not a born orator, and possessed that peculiar gift known +in Wales as "hwyl"--a sudden ecstatic inspiration, which carries the +speaker away on its wings, supplying him with burning words of +eloquence, which in his calmer and normal state he could never have +chosen for himself. Will controlled this feeling, not allowing it to +carry him to that degree of excitement to which some Welsh preachers +abandon themselves; on the contrary, when he felt most, he lowered his +voice, and kept a firm rein upon his eloquence. His command of +English, too, surprised his hearers, and Dr. Owen, himself a popular +preacher, confessed he had never possessed such an easy flow of that +language. As for Ebben Owens himself, as the sermon proceeded, +although he understood but little English, not a word, nor a phrase, +nor an inflection of the beloved voice escaped his attention; and as he +bent his head at the benediction tears of thankfulness, pride, and joy +filled his eyes. But he dried them hastily with his bran new silk +handkerchief, and followed Ann out of the church with the first of the +congregation. + +"We'll wait with the car," he said, "at the top of the lane. We won't +push ourselves on to him at the church door when all the gentry are +speaking to him." + +And Ann sat in the car with the reins in her hand, while the +congregation filed past, many of them turning aside to congratulate +warmly the father and sister of such a preacher. One by one the people +passed on, two or three carriages rolled by, and still Will had not +appeared. + +"Here he is, I think," said Ebben Owens, as two gentlemen walked slowly +up the lane, and watching them, he scarcely caught sight of a carriage +that drove quickly by. But a glance was enough as it turned round the +corner into the street. In it sat Will, accompanied by Dr. Owen, +Colonel Vaughan, and his niece. + +"Was that Will?" said Ann, looking round. + +"Yes," said her father faintly, looking about him in a dazed, confused +manner. He put his hand to his head and turned very pale. + +Ann was out of the car in a moment, flinging the reins to the stable +boy who stood at Bowler's head. + +"Come, father anwl!" she said, supporting the old man's tottering +steps, for he would have fallen had she not passed her strong arm round +him. "Come, we'll go home. You will be better once we are out of the +town," and with great difficulty she got him into the car. "Cheer up, +father bach," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, though her own +voice trembled, and her eyes were full of tears. "No doubt he meant to +come, or he would have written, but I'm thinking they pressed him so +much that he couldn't refuse." + +"Yes, yes," said the old man in a weak voice; "no doubt, no doubt! +_'tis all right_, Ann; 'tis the hand of God." + +Ann thought he was wandering a little, and tried to turn his thoughts +by speaking of the sermon. + +"'Twas a beautiful sermon, father, I have never heard a better, not +even from Jones Bryn y groes." + +"Yes, I should think 'twas a good sermon, though I couldn't understand +the English well; only the text 'twas coming in very often 'Lord, try +me and see if there be any wicked way in me,'" and he repeated several +times as he drove home "'any wicked way in me.' Yes, yes, 'tis all +right!" + +When they reached home without Will, Gwilym Morris seemed to understand +at once what had happened, and he helped the old man out of the car +with a pat on his back and a cheery greeting. + +"Well, there now! didn't I tell you how it would be? Will had so many +invitations he could not come back with you. There was Captain Lewis +Bryneiron said, 'You must come and dine with me!' and Colonel Vaughan +Nantmyny said, 'He must come with me!' and be bound Sir John Hughes +wanted him to go to Plasdu; so, poor fellow, he _had_ to go, and we've +got to eat our splendid dinner ourselves! Come along; such a goose you +never saw!" + +Ebben Owens said nothing, as he walked into the house, stooping more +than usual, and looking ten years older. + +There was dire disappointment in the kitchen, too, when the dinner came +out scarcely tasted. + +It is not to be supposed that by such observant eyes as Gwenda's, the +Garthowen car, with the waiting Ann and the old man hovering about, had +escaped unnoticed. Nay! To her quick perception the whole event +revealed itself in a flash of intuition. They were waiting there for +Will. He had disappointed and wounded his old father, but at the same +moment she saw that the slight had been unintentional; for as the +carriage dashed by the waiting car, she saw in Will's face a look of +surprise and distress, a hurried search in his pocket, and an unwelcome +discovery of a letter addressed and stamped--but, alas! unposted. The +pathetic incident troubled her not a little. An English girl would +probably have spoken out at once with the splendid honesty +characteristic of her nation, but Gwenda, being a thorough Welshwoman, +acted differently. With what detractors of the Celtic character would +probably call "craftiness," but what we prefer to call "tact and +tenderness," she determined not to ruffle the existing happy state of +affairs by risking a misunderstanding with her lover, but would rather +wait until, as a wife, she could bring the whole influence of her own +honest nature to bear upon this weak trait in his character. + +A few days later the announcement of his approaching marriage reached +Garthowen, in a letter from Will himself, enclosing the unposted +missive, which he had discovered in his pocket as he drove to Nantmyny +on the previous Sunday. + +It pacified the old man somewhat, but nothing availed to lift the cloud +which had fallen upon his life; and the intimation of the near approach +of his son's marriage with "a lady" coming upon him as it did +unexpectedly, was the climax of his depression of spirits. He sat in +the chimney-corner and brooded, repeating to himself occasionally in a +low voice: + +"Gone! gone! Both my boys gone from me for ever!" + +Ann and Gwilym's arguments were quite unheeded. Morva's sympathy alone +seemed to have any consoling effect upon him. She would kneel beside +him with her elbows on his knees, looking up into his face, and with +make-believe cheerfulness would reason with a woman's inconsequence, +fearlessly deducing results from causes which had no existence. + +"'Tis as plain as the sun in the sky, 'n'wncwl Ebben bach! Gethin is +only gone on another voyage, and so will certainly be back here before +long. Well, you see he _must_ come, because he wouldn't like to see +his old father breaking his heart--not he! We know him too well. And +then there's his best clothes in the box upstairs! And there's the +corn growing so fast, he will surely be here for the harvest." + +She knew herself it was all nonsense, realising it sometimes with a +sudden sad wistfulness; but she quickly returned to her argument again. + +"Look at me now, 'n'wncwl Ebben!--Morva Lloyd, whom you saved from the +waves! Would I tell you anything that was not true? Of course, I +wouldn't indeed! indeed! and I'm sure he'll come soon. You may take my +word for it they will both come back very soon. I feel it in my heart, +and mother says so too." + +"Does she?" said the old man, with a little show of interest. "Does +Sara say so?" + +"Yes," said Morva; "she says she is sure of it." + +"Perhaps indeed! I hope she is right, whatever!" And he would lay his +hands on Morva's and Tudor's heads, both of whom leant upon his knees +and looked lovingly into his face. + + + +[1] "Blessed be!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +SARA + +For Gwenda and Will, from this time forward, all went "merry as a +marriage bell." Early in the spring their wedding took place in +London, and when one morning Morva brought from Pont-y-fro post office +a packet for Ebben Owens containing a wedge of wedding cake and cards, +he evinced some show of interest. On the box was written in Gwenda's +pretty firm writing, + +"With love to Garthowen, from William and Gwenda Owen." + +Ebben rubbed his knees with satisfaction. + +"There now," he said, "in her own handwriting, too! Well, indeed! I +thought she was a nice young lady that day she came here, but, caton +pawb! I never thought she would marry our Will." + +A second piece of cake was enclosed and addressed. "To my friends Sara +and Morva of the Moor," and Morva carried it home with mingled feelings +of pride and pleasure, but paramount was the joy of knowing that she +was completely released from the promise which had become so galling to +her. + +"I knew," said Sara, "that that face would bring us a blessing," and +she looked with loving inquiry into Morva's face, which was full of +varying expressions. + +At first, there was the pleasurable excitement of unfolding and tasting +the wedding cake, but it quickly gave way to a look of pensive sadness, +which somehow had fallen over the girl rather frequently of late; the +haunting thought of Gethin's absence, the cloud of suspicion which had +so long hung over him, (it was cleared away now, but it had left its +impress upon her life), her ignorance of his whereabouts, and above +all, a longing, hidden deep down in her heart, to meet him face to face +once more, to tell him that she was free, that no longer behind the +broom bushes need she turn away from him, or wrest her hands from his +warm clasp. All this weighed upon her mind, and cast a shadow over her +path, which she could not entirely banish. + +Sara saw the reflection of the sorrowful thought in the girl's +tell-tale eyes, and her tender heart was troubled within her. + +"A wedding cake is a beautiful thing," said Morva; "how do they make +it, I wonder? Ann said I must sleep with a bit of it under my pillow +to-night, and I would dream of my sweetheart, but that is nonsense." + +"Yes, 'tis nonsense," said Sara, "but 'tis an old-time fable; thee +canst try it, child," she added, smiling, and trying to chase away the +girl's look of sadness. + +"'Twould be folly indeed, for there is no sweetheart for me any more, +mother, now that Will is married. Oh! indeed, I hope that sweet young +lady will be happy, and Will too." + +"He will be happy, child; but for thee I am grieving. Thou art hiding +something from me; surely Will's marriage brings thee no bitterness?" + +"No, no," said the girl, "I am glad, mother, so thankful to be free; I +could sing with the birds for joy, and yet there is some shadow in my +heart. 'Tis for Garthowen, I think, 'n'wncwl Ebben is so sad--Gethin +has never come home, and that money, mother! who stole it and put it +back again? We used to be so happy, but now it seems like the +threatening of a stormy day." + +"Sometimes those stormy days are the end of rough weather, lass. +Through wind and cloud and lightning, God clears up the sky. Thee must +not lose patience, 'merch i; by and by it will be bright weather again." + +"Do you think, mother?" + +"Yes, I think--I am sure." + +"Well, indeed," said Morva, "you are always right; but oh! I am +forgetting my cheese, I set the rennet before I came out. I must run." + +And away she went, and in a short time had reached the dairy, where the +curdled milk was ready for her. First she went to the spring in the +yard to cool her hands and arms, and then with shining wooden saucer, +she broke up the creamy curds, gradually compressing them into a solid +mass, while the delicious whey was poured into a quaint brown earthen +pitcher. + +The clumsy door stood wide open, and the sunshine streamed in, and +glistened on the bright brass pan in which Morva was crumbling her +curds, her sleeves tucked up above her elbows, showing her dimpled +arms. With her spotless white apron, her neatly shod feet, and her +crown of golden hair, she looked like the presiding goddess of this +temple of cleanliness and purity. + +Round the walls stood shelves of the blue slaty stone of the +neighbourhood, upon which were ranged the pans of golden cream, above +them hanging the various dairy utensils of wood, polished black with +long use and rubbing. + +Morva's good spirits had returned, for she hummed as she rubbed her +curds: + + "Troodi! Troodi! come down from the mountain, + Troodi! Troodi! up from the dale! + Moelen and Trodwen, and Beauty and Blodwen, + I'll meet you all with my milking pail." + +Meanwhile at home in the thatched cottage on the moor Sara seemed to +have caught the mantle of sadness which had fallen from the girl's +shoulders. She went about her household duties singing softly it is +true, but there was a look of disquiet in her eyes not habitual to +them, an air of restlessness very unlike her usual placid demeanour. +For sixteen years her life and Morva's had been serene and uneventful, +the limited circle which bound the plane of their existence had been +complete and undisturbed by outward influences; but latterly unrest and +anxiety had entered into their quiet lives, there was a veiling of the +sun, there was a shadow on the path, a mysterious wind was ruffling the +surface of the sea of life. No trouble had touched Sara personally, +but what mattered that to one so sympathetic? She lived in the lives +of those she loved; and as she moved about in the subdued light of the +cottage, or in the broad sunshine of the garden, a thread of +disquietude ran through the pattern of her thoughts. The cause of +Morva's sadness she guessed at, but how to remove it, or how to bring +back the peace and happiness that seemed to have deserted the old +Garthowen homestead, she saw not yet. + +Suddenly she started, and standing still crossed her hands on her bosom +with a look of pleased expectancy; her lips moved as if in prayer, she +passed out into the garden, and gathering a bunch of rue, tied it +together and hung it to the frame of the doorway so that no one could +enter the house without noticing it. Then returning to the quiet +chimney corner, she sat down in the round-backed oak chair, and +clasping her hands on her lap, waited, while over her came the curious +trance-like sleep to which she had been subject at intervals all her +life. She was accustomed to these trances, and even welcomed their +coming for the sake of the clear insight and even the clairvoyance +which followed them. They were seasons of refreshing to this strange +woman's soul--seasons during which the connecting thread between spirit +and body was strained to the utmost, when a rude awakening might easily +sever that attenuated thread, when Morva knew that tender handling and +shielding care were required of her. In the evening when she returned +from the farm she came singing into the little court, where the gilly +flowers and daffodils were once more swaying in the wind, and the much +treasured ribes was hanging out its scented pink tassels. She stopped +to gather a spray, and then turning to the door, was confronted by the +bunch of rue, at sight of which she instantly ceased her singing and a +look of seriousness almost of solemnity came over her face, for the +herb had long been a pre-concerted signal between Sara and herself. + +She gently pulled the string which lifted the latch, and entered the +cottage, treading softly as one does where death has already entered. +The stillness was profound, for it was a calm day and the sea was +silent, the fire only crackling on the hearth. The old cat slept on +the spinning bench, and Sara lay there unconscious and dead to all +outward surroundings. Morva approached her softly, and pressed a kiss +on the marble forehead; she felt her hands, they were supple though +cold; the eyes were closed and the breathing was scarcely perceptible, +but Morva had no fear for Sara's safety. She gently raised her feet +upon the rush stool, and rested her head more comfortably; then bolting +the door and making up the fire, she took her supper and prepared for a +long night's vigil. + +And now came one of those seasons of contemplation and of wondering awe +which Sara's trances brought into Morva's simple life, which made her +somewhat different from the other girls of the neighbourhood, yet in no +way detracted from the brightness and cheerfulness of her character. +Magw, the house servant, was often out under the stars, but she paid +more attention to the stubble in the farmyard than to the glittering +spangled sky above her. Dyc "pigstye" often passed over the cliffs and +up the moor, but his own whistle, the bleat of the sheep, the lowing of +the herds, were more to him than the whispers of the sea or the singing +of the larks. Ebben Owens was out from morning to night, in the +brilliant sunshine, and under the mellow moon, but they taught no tale +to him, and brought no messages to his soul, save of crops, of work, of +harvests. But to Morva, every tint of broom or heather, every shade of +sea or sky, every flower that unfolded in the sunshine spoke and +stirred within her sentiments of love and wonder which she had no words +to express, but which left their impress upon her spirit. + +Sitting by the fire on her low stool, she kept a careful watch over the +still figure on the other side of the hearth. The night wind sighed in +the chimney, the owls hooted, and the sea whispered its mysterious +secrets on the shore below. The candle burnt low in its socket, and +Morva replaced it with another, for she would not be left in the dark +with this silent unconscious being, much as she loved her. + +Sometimes she ventured upon a gentle appeal, "Mother fach!" but no +answer came from the closed lips, and again she waited while the night +hours passed on. + +"Where is her spirit wandering, I wonder?" thought the girl, setting +her untaught and inexperienced mind to work upon the fathomless +mystery. "Perhaps in the land which we roam in our dreams. 'Tis pity +she cannot remember; 'tis pity she cannot tell me about it, for, oh, I +would like to know." + +But to-night, at all events, it seemed there was to be no elucidation +of this enigma of life. The night hours dragged on slowly, and still +Sara slept on, until in the pale dawn Morva gently opened the door and +looked out towards the east, where a rosy light was beginning to flush +the clear blue of a cloudless sky. Already the sun was rising over the +grey slopes, the cottage walls caught the rosy tints, and the ribes +tree, which alone was tall enough to catch his beams over the high turf +wall of the court, glowed under his morning kiss. Morva looked round +the fair scene with eyes and heart that took in all its beauty. A cool +sea breeze, brine-laden, swept over the moor, refreshing and +invigorating her, and she turned again to the cottage with renewed +longing for Sara's awakening. + +When she entered, she found that the rays of the rising sun shone full +upon the quiet face, on the placid brow, and the closed eyes, imparting +to them a look of unearthly spirituality. Moved by the sight, and by +the events of the night, the girl knelt down, and, leaning her face on +her foster-mother's lap, said her prayers, with the same simple faith +as she had in the days of childhood. The sunlight pouring in through +the little window bathed her in a stream of rosy light, and rested on +her bent head like a blessing. As she rose from her knees a quiver +passed over Sara's eyelids, a smile came on her lips, and opening her +eyes she looked long at Morva before she spoke, as though recalling her +surroundings. + +"Mother," said the girl, kissing her cheek, which was beginning to show +again the hue of health. "Mother fach, you've come back to me again." + +"Yes," said Sara, "I am come back again, child," and she attempted to +rise, but Morva pushed her gently back. + +"Breakfast first, mother fach." + +And quickly and deftly she set the little brown teapot on the embers, +and spread her mother's breakfast before her. + +"Now, mother, a new-laid egg and some brown bread and butter." + +And Sara smilingly complied with the girl's wishes, and partook of the +simple fare. + +"Mother, try and remember where you have been. Oh, I want to know so +much." + +"I cannot, 'merch i, already it is slipping away from me as usual; but +never mind, it will all come back by and by, and I hope I will be a +wiser and a better woman after my long sleep. It is always so, I +think, Morva." + +"Yes," said the girl, "you are always wiser, and better, and kinder +after your long sleeps, if that is possible, mother fach." + +Sara's ordinary cheerful and placid manner had already returned to her, +and in an hour or two she was quite herself again, and moving about her +cottage as if nothing had happened; and when Morva left her for the +morning milking she felt no uneasiness about her. + +"She's in the angels' keeping, I know, and God is over all," she +murmured, as she ran over the cliffs to Garthowen. + +She said nothing at the farm of the events of the past night, knowing +how reticent Sara was upon the subject herself. Moreover, it was one +of too sacred a character in the eyes of these two lonely women to be +discussed with the outside and unbelieving world. + +In the evening, when Morva returned from the farm, a little earlier +than usual, she was full of tender inquiries. + +"Are you well, mother fach? I have been uneasy about you." + +"Quite well, child, and very happy. 'Twill all be right soon, Morva. +Canst take my word for it? For I cannot explain how I know, but I tell +thee thy trouble will soon be over. How are they at Garthowen +to-night?" + +"Oh, well," said the girl; "only 'n'wncwl Ebben is always very sad. +Not even Will's marriage will make him happy. 'Tis breaking his heart +he is for the old close companionship. Will ought to come and see him +oftener. Poor 'n'wncwl Ebben! 'Tis sad to lose his two sons." + +"Gethin will come home," said Sara; "and Ebben Owens will be happy +again." + +Morva made no answer, but watched the sparks from the crackling furze, +as they flew up the chimney, and thought of the night when she had +stamped them out with her wooden shoe, and had dared the uncertainties +of the future. She was wiser now, and knew that life had its shadows +as well as its glowing sunshine. She had experienced the former, but +the sunshine was returning to her heart to-night in a full tide of joy, +for she had implicit confidence in her foster-mother's keen intuitions. + +"Mother, what did you see, what did you hear, in that long trance? I +would like to know so much. Your body was here, but where was your +spirit?" + +"I cannot tell, 'merch i. To me it was a dreamless sleep, but now that +I am awake I seem to know a great many things which were dark to me +before. You know it is always so with me when I have had my long +sleeps. They seem to brighten me up, and it appears quite natural to +me when the things that have been dark become plain." + +She felt no surprise as the scenes and events of the recent past were +unfolded to her. She understood now why Gethin had gone away so +suddenly and mysteriously. Morva's love for him she saw with clear +insight, and, above all, the cause of Ebben Owens's increasing gloom. +How simple all was now, and how happy was she in the prospect of +helping them all. + +"Mother," asked Morva again one evening, as they walked in the garden +together, "there is one question I would like to ask you again, but +somehow I am afraid. Who stole the money at Garthowen?" + +"Don't ask me that question, 'merch i. Time will unfold it all. 'Tis +very plain who took it, and I wonder we didn't see it before; but leave +it now, child. I don't know how, but soon it will be cleared up, and +the sun will shine again. Ask me no more questions, Morva, and every +day will bring its own revealment." + +"I will ask nothing more, mother. Let us go in and boil the bwdran for +supper." + +At the early milking next morning Ebben Owens himself came into the +farmyard. He stooped a good deal, and, when Morva rallied him on his +sober looks, sighed heavily, as he stood watching the frothing milk in +her pail. + +"See what a pailful of milk Daisy has, 'n'wncwl Ebben! Yesterday +Roberts the drover from Castell On passed through the yard when I was +milking, and oh, there's praising her he was! 'Would Ebben Owens sell +her, d'ye think?' he asked, and he patted her side; but Daisy didn't +like it, and she nearly kicked my pail over. 'Sell her!' I said. +'What for would 'n'wncwl Ebben sell the best cow in his herd? No, no,' +said I. 'Show us one as good as her, and 'tis buying he'll be, and not +selling.'" + +"Lol! lol!" said the old man; "thee mustn't be too sure, girl. I am +getting old and not fit to manage the farm. I wouldn't care much if I +sold everything and went to live in a cottage." + +"'Twt, twt," said Morva, "you will never leave old Garthowen, and +'twill be long before Roberts the drover takes Daisy away. Go and see +mother, 'n'wncwl Ebben; she is full of good news for you. She says +there is brightness coming for you, and indeed, indeed _she knows_." + +"Yes, she knows a good deal, but she doesn't know everything, Morva. +No, no," he said, turning away, "she doesn't know everything." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE "SCIET" + +"Art going to chapel to-night, Morva?" said Ebben Owens on the +following Sunday afternoon, as he sat smoking in the chimney-corner, +Tudor beside him gazing rather mournfully into the fire. He was +looking ill and worn, and spoke in a low, husky voice. He had sat +there lost in thought ever since he had pushed away his almost untasted +dinner. + +"Yes," said Morva, "I am going; but mother is not coming to-night; she +doesn't like the Sciet, you know." + +"She is an odd woman," said Ann. "Not like the Sciet indeed! If I +didn't love her so much I would be very angry with her." + +Morva flushed. + +"She is very different to other people, I know; but she is a good woman +whatever." + +"Yes, yes, yes," said Ebben Owens emphatically; "but why doesn't she +like the Sciet?" + +"Oh! that's what she is saying," answered the girl, "that she doesn't +see the use of people standing up to confess half their sins and +keeping back the other and the worst half. She has been talking to +Gwilym Morris about it, and he is agreeing with her." + +"Och fi!" sighed the old man, relapsing into his moody silence, from +which not even little Gwyl's chatter was able to rouse him. + +At last when the cheerful sound of the tea-things, and Ann's +oft-repeated summons, recalled him to outward surroundings, he rose as +if wearily, and drew his chair to the table, where, stooping more and +more over his tea, Ann detected a tear furtively wiped away. + +"You won't take little Gwyl to chapel to-night, will you? 'tis rather +damp," he said, though it was really a clear twilight. + +"No, no," said Ann, "Magw will take care of him at home." + +Gwilym helped the old man to change his coat. + +"Where are his gloves, Ann, and his best hat? There's grand he'll be!" + +But there was no answering smile on his father-in-law's face. + +"Twt, twt," he said, "there is no need of gloves for me, and I won't +wear my best hat, give me my old one." + +He sighed heavily as with bent head, and hands buried deep in his coat +pockets, he followed Ann and her husband down the stony road to the +valley where Penmorien Chapel lay. It was one of the unlovely square +buildings so much affected by the Welsh Dissenters, its walls of grey +stone differing little in appearance and colour from the rocky bed of +the hill which had been quarried out for its site. + +As the Garthowen family entered, led by the preacher hat in hand, there +was a little movement of interest in the thronging congregation, and a +settling down to their prospective enjoyment, for an eloquent sermon +possesses for the Welsh the intense charm of a good drama. The +familiar pictures of every-day life with which the sermon is frequently +illustrated, the vivid word-painting, the tender but firm touch which +plays upon the chords of their strongest emotions, all combine to +awaken within them those feelings of pleasurable excitement, denied to +them through the medium of the forbidden theatre. + +Gwilym Morris was heart and soul a preacher, full of burning zeal for +his mission, and, moreover, at this period of his ministry he was +passing through a crisis in his spiritual life--a crisis which left him +with a broader field of vision, and more enlightened views of God's +Providence than he had hitherto dared to adopt. As he passed up the +pulpit stairs and saw the thronging mass of eager faces upraised to +his, a subtle influence reached him, a fervour of spirit which he knew +was the answer to the expectancy depicted on his people's faces. It +was as though that waiting throng had formed itself into one collective +being, for whose soul he bore a message, and to whom he must unburden +himself, and there was a depth of meaning in his voice as he gave out +the words of an old familiar hymn which fixed his hearers' attention at +once. Ebben Owens had always led the hymns, but latterly he had +dropped that custom, and to-night he stood silent with eyes fixed upon +the evening sky, visible through the long chapel window. The hymn was +sung with fervour, and in that volume of sound his voice was not +missed. The old grey walls reverberated to the rich tones, which +filled the chapel, and pouring out through the open doors, flooded the +narrow valley with harmony. It was followed by a prayer, and another +hymn, after which the candles were lighted, one on each iron pillar +supporting the crowded gallery, one on each side of the "big seat" +under the pulpit, and one on each side of the preacher, who, leaning +his arms on the open Bible before him, began in low impressive tones to +deliver himself of the message which he bore to his people. Only the +old familiar words, "Come unto Me all ye that are weary and heavy laden +and I will give you rest." Only the message of a greater Preacher than +he--only the theme of a love unchanging and unfathomable, but told in +such vivid though simple language, that the sensitive Celtic hearts of +his audience, were enthralled and subdued, and there were few in that +large crowd who did not gaze at the preacher through eyes blurred with +tears. Sometimes his voice rose in indignant protest, and sometimes +fell in tender appeal, and when at last the sermon was over and the +last hymn had been sung, there was an evident feeling of regret and a +furtive drying of eyes. + +In curious almost ludicrous contrast to the preacher's mellow tones, +Jos Hughes's cracked voice broke the solemn silence, with the +information that there would be an "experience" meeting after the +service. One third of the congregation therefore, remained seated +while the rest poured out through the narrow doorways into the stony +road, up which the sea wind was blowing. Then the doors were closed +and the preacher came down and sat among the deacons in the "big seat." +Ebben Owens was asked for his usual opening prayer, but he declined the +request with a shake of his head. Jos Hughes gladly took his place, +and after a long-winded prayer from him, a hymn was sung again, and +then the business of the meeting commenced. + +From a dark corner pew a weak voice broke the silence, and every eye +turned to the speaker, a little shrivelled woman who was a frequent +confessor of sins, and was correspondingly respected. + +"I wish to say," said the quavering voice, "that I am daily and hourly +becoming less sure of my salvation, my past sins weigh heavily upon me, +and neither prayer nor reading bring a gleam of comfort into my heart. +I should be glad to see the preacher or one of the deacons if they will +trouble to come to Ffoshelig." + +"I will certainly," said the preacher; and again there was a pause, +till Jos Hughes stood up, and with great unction delivered his soul of +its burden. + +"My dear brethren," he said, with eyes upturned to the ceiling, his +stubby fingers interlaced over his waistcoat of fawn kerseymere, "I am +much perplexed and disheartened! I have been deacon of this chapel for +thirty years, and I am not aware that I have ever failed in my duty as +a member of this 'body.' I neglect no opportunity of prayer, or hymn +singing, or warning my neighbour. I teach in the Sunday School, and I +fulfil every duty as far as I am able--and yet, my friends, for two +whole days in the week that is past, I was as dry as--a paper bag! I +felt no fervour of spirit, no uplifting of soul; in fact, dear people, +it was low tide with me, the rocks were bare, the sands were dry, and I +was almost despairing. But thank the Lord! the tide turned, grace and +praise and joy flowed in upon me once more; I have received the +'Invoice' of good things to come, and I am filled with the peace and +content I generally enjoy." + +A few words of congratulation and sympathy were spoken by another +grey-headed deacon, after which a silence fell upon the meeting, the +preacher making no comment upon what he had heard. The tick of the +clock on the gallery, the distant swish of the waves, and the soft +sighing of the evening breeze alone were audible. + +At length another voice broke the silence. It was Ebben Owens, who was +standing up, and for a moment looking round at the old familiar faces +of his fellow worshippers. + +It had been a frequent custom of his to relate his religious +experiences at the "Sciets," so neither Ann nor her husband were +surprised; but Morva detected something unusual in the old man's +manner. At many a meeting he had confessed to the frailties of human +nature, with platitudes, and expressions of repentance, which had lost +all reality from constant repetition. But he had satisfied the +meeting, and at the end of it he had taken up his hat, smoothed his +hair down over his forehead, and walked out of the chapel in the odour +of sanctity. To-night it was a very different man who stood there. At +first his voice was low and trembling, but as he proceeded it gathered +strength, so that his words were audible even in the corner pew, whose +little shrivelled occupant was eagerly listening, in the hopes that +another person's experience--and he a good man--might throw some light +upon her own difficulties. + +"Good people all!" said the old man, "will you bear with me for a few +moments, while I unburden my mind of a weight that is pressing sore +upon me? and God grant that none of you may suffer what I have suffered +lately! but justly--remember justly am I punished. + +"You think you know me well, my dear friends. 'There is Ebben Owens +Garthowen,' you say, 'our deacon,' and perhaps you say 'an upright man +and honest!' But I am here to-night to tell you what I am in truth. I +have stood before you dozens of times, and told you of want of +faith--of cold prayers--and lack of interest in holy things. I have +asked for your prayers many times, and have gone home and forgotten to +pray myself! Yes, I have been your deacon for thirty years, and all +that time I have deceived you, and deceived myself. I never told you +about my real sins, but you shall know to-night what Ebben Owens is. I +have been weak and yielding in money matters--have lent and given my +money, not out of real charity, but because it brought me the praise of +man. I have lied and cheated in the market, and still my soul was +asleep, and you all thought well of me. I have pretended to be a +temperate man, but I have often drunk until my brain was dull, and my +eyes were heavy, and have flung myself down on my bed in a drunken +sleep, without thought and without prayer." + +He paused a moment, and the sea wind, coming in at the window, blew a +stray lock of his grey hair over his forehead. His tongue seemed +parched and dry, his voice husky and uncertain, but with a fresh effort +he continued: + +"Are you beginning to know me, my friends? Not yet, not yet, listen! +God gave me two brave boys, and how did I take his gift? I made an +idol of one, and was unjust, and often harsh, to the other. As the +years went on I continued in that sinful path, and in my old age the +Lord is punishing me. The boy I idolised and loved--God knows with a +love that effaced the image of the Almighty from my heart--has deserted +me, has grown ashamed of me, and my punishment is just and righteous. +The other--whom I treated harshly and thrust from me--has also deserted +me in my old age; this, too, is just and righteous. The sting of it is +sharp and hard to bear, for God has made me love that boy, and long for +his presence; and this, too, is just and righteous. Let no one pity +me, or think I am punished more than I deserve. And now, do you think +you know me? Not yet, my friends, for listen, your deacon, Ebben Owens +of Garthowen, is a thief! Do you hear it, all of you? A thief!" and +he looked round the chapel inquiringly. + +The men looked at him with flushed, excited faces, the women stooped +forward to hide theirs, some of them crying silently, but all moved as +by a sudden storm. Ann had bent lower and lower in her pew, and was +weeping bitter tears of shame, clasping Morva's hand, who stood looking +in frightened amazement from one to another. + +"A thief!" continued the old man, "and a cowardly thief! One who +sacrificed honour and truth and common honesty that he might gratify +his foolish pride. But to come nearer, my friends, hear what I have +done. By careless spendthrift ways I had wasted my money so that I had +not sufficient to send my son to college. This galled my pride, and I +stole from my son-in-law's drawer the sum of 40 pounds which I knew he +had placed there. I was too proud to borrow from a Methodist preacher +the money I required to get my son into the Church. When the theft was +discovered," and the old man held up his finger to enforce his +words--"are you listening?--when the theft was discovered I tried at +first to throw the blame upon a member of this congregation, whom, of +course, I knew to be innocent; later on, when circumstances seemed to +point more directly to my dear eldest son, I gladly let the suspicion +rest upon him, and I did everything in my power to give colour to the +idea of his guilt. There I am, dear friends. That is Ebben Owens. +You know him now as what he is--a liar--a sot--a thief! You will turn +me out of your 'Sciet.' You are right; I am not worthy to be a member +of it. I don't want anyone's pity, I only want you to know me as I am, +and may God forgive me." + +And he sat down amidst breathless silence, his hands sunk deep into his +pockets, his chin resting on his chest. Shame, repentance, and sorrow +filled his heart, and it required all the strength of his manhood to +keep back the tears which would well up into his eyes. It was all so +still in the chapel, not a word of sympathy; even a word of reproach +would have been acceptable to the miserable man, who could not read +beneath the surface, the tumult of varied feelings which were surging +through the hearts of the congregation. + +Suddenly two heavy paws were resting on his knee, and Tudor's warm +breath was on his face as he tried to lick the old man's bare forehead. +The touch of sympathy was more than he could bear, he rose hastily to +his feet, and, followed by the dog, passed out of the chapel, leaving +Gwilym Morris, with a tremble in his voice, to bring the meeting to a +close. + +Although he had sometimes strayed into the chapel Tudor had never +before been known to invade the sanctity of the "big seat," and what +brought him there on this particular evening was one of those mysteries +which enshroud the possibilities of animal instinct. Perhaps he had +been struck by the dejected attitude of his master, as he followed his +daughter and son-in-law through the farmyard; at all events the loving +and loyal heart had felt that over that bent head and stooping figure a +cloud of trouble hung low, and as he followed his master through the +silent congregation he hung his head and drooped his tail as though he +himself were the delinquent. + +"Come, Ann, let us follow him," whispered Morva. + +"No," answered Ann, withdrawing her hand from Morva's warm clasp, "I +cannot. Go thou and comfort him. I will wait for Gwilym." + +And Morva did not hesitate, though it required some courage to make her +way through that shocked and scandalised throng. + +Gaining the door, where the fresh night air met her with refreshing +coolness, she saw the tall, stooping figure moving slowly up the stony +road, followed by the dejected Tudor, and in a moment was at his side. +Taking his hard, rough hand in both her warm palms she lifted it to her +cheek and pressed it to her neck. + +"'N'wncwl Ebben dear, and dear, and very dear! my heart is breaking for +you! To think that while we knew nothing about it you were bearing all +the burden of your repentance alone. But there is plenty of love in +all our hearts to sink every sin you ever committed in its depths, for +the sake of all the good you have done and all the kindness you have +shown to me and to every one who came near you, and you know God's +forgiveness is waiting for every sinner who repents." + +The old man said nothing for some time, but trudged heavily beside her. + +"_Thou_ art tender and forgiving, whatever," he said at last; "but Ann, +where is she? Will she ever forgive me?" + +"She is waiting for Gwilym," answered Morva. + +"She is right; but come thou with me, lass; thou must help me to-night, +for I have only done half my task," and as they passed under the elder +tree at the back door he hurried before her into the house. + +"Now, 'merch i, bring me pen and ink and some paper." + +Now was the time, he felt, when he must make a clean breast of all his +guilt, and drink his bitter draught of expiation to the dregs. He +seized the pen eagerly and with trembling hands began to write, "My +beloved son." The letter was to Will, of course. A clergyman! a +gentleman! with a lady to wife! What would he say when he heard that +his father was a thief? + +He made a full and ample confession, adding no extenuating +circumstances and making no excuses. He wrote slowly and laboriously, +Morva meanwhile rifling Ann's work-box for a seal. + +"There's beautiful writing for an old man," she said at last, as Ebben +Owens toiled through the address, his tongue following every movement +of the pen. "Now, here's the seal, and I will put the letter in the +post at once, and then your mind will be easy." + +"Easy!" he said, leaning his head on his folded arms; "'tis my son, +girl, my beloved son, whose love and respect I am cutting off from me +for ever. Tell thy mother, too; let them all know what I am. Here +come Ann and Gwilym; perhaps they will be as hard upon me as I deserve." + +Here Tudor again laid his soft head on the table beside his master's, +and the old man passed his arm round the dog's neck. + +"Yes--yes, 'machgen i, I know I have thee still. Go, Morva, post my +letter at Pont-y-fro, though 'tis Sunday night. Good-night, girl, thou +hast an old man's blessing. For what it is worth," he added, under his +breath, as the girl passed out of one door, while Gwilym and Ann +entered at the other. + +On their way home through the clear starlight, Gwilym had endeavoured +to soothe Ann's distress, to point out to her how real a proof of +repentance was her father's confession. He reminded her of the joy +amongst the angelic host over one sinner that repenteth! but his words +failed to make their usual impression upon her. Shame, and contempt +for her father's weakness were uppermost in her heart, and expressed +upon her countenance, when she entered the kitchen. One glance, +however, at the bowed grey head and the dejected attitude, banished +every feeling of anger to the winds; with a bound she was at her +father's side, her arms round his neck, her head leaning with his on +the table, Tudor laying his own beside them. + +Ebben Owens's departure from the chapel had been followed by a few +moments of breathless silence. No more experiences were told, no hymn +was sung, but a short and fervid prayer from the preacher alone +preceded the dismissal which sent the astonished and deeply-moved +congregation pouring out into the roadway. + +Jos Hughes had trembled with fright when Ebben Owens had alluded to his +want of money at the time of Will's entering college, and had expected +nothing less than an exposure of his oft broken promises and the long +delayed payment of his debt; but as the old man proceeded without +allusion to his shortcomings, he had regained his courage, and his +usual smug appearance of righteous peace and content. + +"Well!" he said to his fellow-deacons, as they followed the rough road +to Pont-y-fro, "did you ever think we had such a fool for a deacon?" + +"'Ts--'ts! never indeed," said John Jones of the "Blue Bell." + +"Well, indeed," said old Thomas Morgan, the weaver, "I didn't know we +had such a sinner amongst us; but fool! perhaps it would be better if +we were all such fools." + +But no one took any notice of his remark, for he was never considered +to have been endowed with his full complement of sense, though his pure +and unblemished life had caused him to be chosen deacon. + +"Well," said Jos again, as he reached his own shop door, "I always knew +Garthowen's pride would come down some day; but I never, never thought +he was such a fool!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE + +It was nearly midnight, and still Sara and Morva sat over the fire in +earnest conversation. The March wind roared in the chimney, the sound +of the sea came up the valley. Outside, under the night sky, the furze +and broom bushes waved and bowed to each other, and in the sheltered +cwrt the daffodils under the hedge nodded and swayed in the wind; but +the two women inside the cottage were too much engrossed in their +conversation, and with their thoughts, to notice the wildness of the +night. Often they sat in silence, broken by occasional words of sorrow. + +"Oh, poor 'n'wncwl Ebben! No wonder he was sitting thinking and +thinking in the chimney-corner!" + +"No, no wonder indeed, och i! och i! But now he has done the best +thing for his own peace of mind." + +"Peace of mind!" said Morva. "I am afraid he will never have that, +mother. He said when we were walking home together that he wished he +could die; and I'm afraid he will before long. He is breaking his +heart for his two sons." + +Sara did not answer; she was gazing at the glowing fire, whose flames +and sparks chased each other up the chimney. At last she straightened +herself. + +"Garthowen shall not die while I can help him, Morva," she said. "I +have seen all this coming, 'merch i, and I know now what my dreams have +meant lately. _They_ are calling me, Morva; _they_ have been calling +me since the turn of the year, and I have closed my ears. But +now"--and she stood up, though still leaning on her stick--"but now I +must go." + +Morva looked at her in astonishment, for the aged form seemed to grow +young again with the strength of purpose within it. The gentle face +appeared to lose the wrinkles of age. In the fitful light of the fire, +it took again the lines of beauty and youth which had once belonged to +it. + +"Thou must not be surprised, child," she added, "if some evening when +thou com'st home from the farm thou shalt find the house empty. The +key will be on the lintel, and thou must come in and wait in patience +till I return. I thought there was nothing more for me to do, but I +see it now," and with her stick she pointed into the dark corner where +the spinning-wheel stood, and the red earthen pitcher which went so +often to the well. "I see it, 'merch i; 'tis a journey for me. I +don't see quite where it ends, but I will be safe, Morva, for God is +everywhere. _They_ are calling me, and they will bring me safe home +again. Let me go, child; 'tis to fetch a blessing for Garthowen and +for thee, so don't thee fret, lass. Then my work will be done; there +will be only one more journey for me--the last! and from that thou wilt +not see me return. But I will be with thee, and thee must not sorrow +for me." + +"Oh, mother," said the girl, burying her face in her apron, "are you +going to die? How can I live in this world without you?" And swaying +backwards and forwards, she cried bitterly. + +"Not yet, my child, not yet; I have work to do and there are happy days +in store for us both; but some day, Morva, it must come, and when it +comes thou must not grieve for me. Come, 'merch i, 'tis late; let us +go to bed." + +And the girl, somewhat comforted, dried her eyes and closed the rickety +door. She slept heavily after her late watching, so heavily that she +did not hear when Sara rose in the grey of the dawn. At her usual time +Morva rose too, and immediately missed her mother. A wild fear +throbbed through her heart as she searched in and out of the cottage. + +"Mother!" she called up the step ladder which led to the loft, out in +the cwrt and in the garden. "Mother fach! where are you?" But there +was no answer, and she realised that Sara had gone, and that she was +alone! + +After the first pang of fright, a calmness and even happiness entered +her heart; she had learnt to put implicit trust in her strange +foster-mother, and a feeling of complete reassurance and content began +to take possession of her mind. + +It would be well with Sara, for whatever she attempted she never failed +to accomplish, and it would be well with Garthowen too! "Her ways are +blessed," said the girl, clasping her hands, and returning to her +solitary breakfast. "The spirits have her in their keeping, that I +know, and she will come back and bring us joy and happiness!" + +Whether in the depths of her heart it was dawning upon her what +blessing she expected from Sara's pilgrimage is difficult to know; +perhaps unconsciously she already nourished the hope which was to grow +with every day of her mother's absence, until it gilded her whole life +with a rapturous expectancy; at all events, it was a very blithe and +joyous maiden who brushed the dew off the sheep path to Garthowen in +time for the milking that morning. She would have sung one of Sara's +old Nature songs, had not the remembrance of the sorrow at the farm +kept her silent. The March wind blew keen and crisp around her, the +air was filled with the quivering songs of the larks, the furze was +bursting into bloom, even the bare blackthorn put on its speckled +mantle of white; what wonder was it in a world so fair, that Morva's +heart sang for joy? But as she turned round the Cribserth, a sudden +shadow came upon her, for here was Ebben Owens coming towards her, with +bent head and slow dragging step. She hurried forward to meet him. + +"I thought thee wouldst turn back, lass, or make an excuse to pass me +by," he said. + +"But no! no! no!" said the girl, linking her arm into the old man's, +and turning back with him, "'tis closer and closer we must cling +together, 'n'wncwl Ebben, dear, the further we go on the path of life. +Did you think that Morva could pass you by? Ach y fi! no indeed! But +where are you going so early?" + +"To see Sara," said the old man--"to see if she will still be my friend +when she knows how bad I am." + +"She knows it all," said Morva; "I told her last night, and her heart +was torn with sorrow and love for you; and now turn back with me to +Garthowen, for Sara is gone; the cottage is empty!" + +"Gone!" said the old man, with a gasp, "Sara gone!" + +"Yes--gone! 'Garthowen shall not die of grief while I can help him,' +she said; 'I am going a long journey, child, and ye must not grieve for +me; I will come back and bring joy and comfort with me.' That's what +she said," and Morva nodded her head emphatically. "Oh, she will come, +she will come, as she has promised, and bring you comfort; what it will +be I cannot tell," and leaning her head coaxingly on the old man's arm +she asked, in a playful tone of mystery, "now what can it be, this +great blessing she is going to bring you?" + +"I don't know," said the old man, taking scant interest in her +surmises; he was thinking how he would bear this fresh loss! + +"But what do you think?" + +"A Bible, perhaps." + +"A Bible!" said Morva impatiently, "no--no, not a Bible; Sara knows you +have plenty of them at Garthowen, and she has too much sense to bring +you another--no! 'tisn't that! but oh, what will it be, I wonder?" + +And day after day this was the question that ran through her thoughts, +"What will it be, I wonder?" + +Sitting down to her milking she sang with full voice once more the old +song which Daisy loved. Of late her voice had been very low, and the +song scarcely reached beyond Daisy's sleek sides, but to-day it came +back, and the farmyard was filled with happy melody. + +Everything went on as usual in the farm. Ann tried to let no +difference be seen in her manner to her father, unless indeed she was a +little more tender and loving. The farm servants, who, if they had not +been at the Sciet, had yet heard the tale of disgrace, were unanimous +in their endeavours to comfort the old mishteer whom they loved with so +much loyalty. + +"Pwr fellow bach!" they said to each other, "'twas for his son after +all, and if he had kept it to himself nobody would have known anything +about it!" + +He alone was altered, going about with a saddened mien and gentler +voice than of old, and apparently finding his chief solace in the +company of his little grandson, who followed him about as closely and +untiringly as Tudor did. + +"Ah, we are brave companions, aren't we, Gwil?" he would sometimes ask +with a tremble in his voice. + +"Odin (Yes, we are)," said the child. + +"And thou lov'st thine old grandfather with all thine heart, eh?" + +"Odw (Yes, I do!)," said the child, impatient to be gone. + +They were sitting under the elder tree in the farmyard. + +"Stop a minute," said the old man, in a husky, anxious voice, "if da-cu +(grandfather) had done anything wrong, wouldst love him still the same?" + +"Oh, more!" said the boy, "because then we'd be two naughty boys!" + +And while they sat under the elder tree, and Morva helped Ann with her +churning, five miles away, on the wind-swept high road, a bent figure +was trudging along, with slow but steady footsteps, with the thought of +them all in her mind, and the sweet memory of home in her heart, but +with an earnest purpose in her eyes; to bring happiness and hope to her +old friend, to the man who in the days gone by had jilted her, and torn +her heart strings, who had won her love, but had married another woman, +and regretted it ever after. + +It was Sara, who had risen with the first streak of dawn, and snatching +a hurried breakfast had left her foster-daughter asleep. She had +lifted the lid of the coffer and had taken out the best half of her +scarlet mantle, leaving the worn and faded half hanging Over the +spinning wheel. "Morva would understand," she thought, "and would wash +it and lay it away in the coffer until her return." A gown too she +wore, instead of her peasant dress, a gown of red and black homespun, +which had been her best when she was first married. On her head a +black felt hat, with low crown, and slouching brim over her full +bordered cap of frilled muslin. Strong shoes with bows on the instep, +her crutch stick in her hand, and a little bundle of clothes tied up in +a cotton handkerchief completed her outfit, and thus equipped she stole +silently to the bedside where Morva lay, flushed with the heavy sleep +of youth and health. + +"My little daughter!" was all she said, but her eyes were full of tears +as she passed through the cwrt and took the sheep path which led to the +top of the moor. Reaching the brow of the hill she turned into a +narrow lane, over which the thorn bushes, just showing signs of their +budding greenery, almost met together. Under their branches she made +her way, to where the lane opened out to a grassy square, on which +stood a tiny whitewashed cottage. The thatch reached low over the +door, and its one window no bigger than a child's slate. There were no +signs of life, but Sara did not hesitate to raise the wooden latch and +open the door, which she found unbolted. + +In the murky gloom of the cottage it was difficult at first to see +where the bed lay, but as space was circumscribed she had not far to +look; in fact, one curtained side of the bed made the wall of the +passage, and she had but to turn round this to see an old and wrinkled +face asleep on the pillow. + +"I must wake her, pwr thing," said Sara, and she began to call softly, +"Nani, Nani fach!" + +The sleep of age is easily put to flight, and Nani opened her eyes. + +"Sara ''spridion'!" she said, in astonishment. "Sara Lloyd, I mean, +but I was dreaming, Sara dear. What is it?" and she sat up not a +little disturbed, for Sara's name alone sufficed to arouse the latent +fear of the "hysbis" or occult, always lurking in the Celtic mind. + +Sara only smiled as the word "'spridion" escaped the frightened woman's +lips. + +"Is it time to get up?" she said, beginning to rub her eyes. + +"No, no," said Sara, taking a seat by the bedside, and leaning upon her +stick. "Lie still, Nani fach, and forgive me for awaking you, but I am +going a journey, and a journey that won't wait." + +"Oh, dear!" said Nani, "are you going by the old tren, then? As for +me, I'm too frightened of it to go and see my own daughter. She's +asked me many times, and I would have good living there, but I wouldn't +venture in the tren for the whole world!" + +"I'm not afraid of it," said Sara, "but I have never seen it. 'Twould +be strange to me, and the shipping comes more natural, so I'm going to +Caer-Madoc, for I know the steamer sails from there to Cardiff every +Tuesday. I hope I will be there in time; but tell me, Nani, about +Kitty your daughter." + +"She is married again, and such a good husband she has. John Parry +nearly killed her, pwr thing, and then he died, and she married this +man--his name is Jones." + +"But I want to know," said Sara, "did she say anything about Gethin +Owens when she was here?" + +"She said she was never seeing him, and she didn't know why he was +keeping away from her, and the sailors were often seeing him about the +docks, but she didn't know where he was lodging now. There's glad I +was to see her; but indeed, Sara fach, it cost me a lot of money, 'cos +she's got a good appetite, whatever. 'Tis a great waste to come all +that long way by the tren. She wants to come again, and if it wasn't +for the money--" + +Sara, who had no sympathy with the parsimony of many of her class, rose +to go. + +"Well, I won't stop longer, Nani fach; good-bye and thank you." + +When she saw her visitor was really going, Nani was profuse in her +offers of hospitality. + +"Going! Caton pawb! not without breakfast?" + +But Sara was gone, and already making her way to the high road which +led along the brow of the hill to Caer-Madoc. It was twenty years +since she had last been in the town, and even in this remote place +twenty years had brought changes--the busy streets, the shops, the +cries of the vendors of herrings and cockles, would have bewildered and +puzzled her had she not been possessed by a strong purpose and +sustained by that faith which can move mountains. Aided by old +memories she found her way to the quay and to the small steamer with +the long English name, which plied twice a week between the ports of +Caer-Madoc and Cardiff. + +"Are you going to Cardiff?" she asked the master, who stood on the quay. + +"Why, yes, of course this is the day, and we are starting in a quarter +of an hour. Who are you?" he said, looking with amused curiosity at +the quaint figure with her crutch stick and black bundle. + +"I am Sara Lloyd of Garthowen Moor, and I want to go with you to +Cardiff. Will you take me?" + +"Of course, little woman, if you can pay." + +"Oh, yes," said Sara, undoing the corner of her pocket-handkerchief, +"how much is it?" and she held out a half-sovereign. + +"Eight shillings--you pay in there," and he pointed to a red painted +shed, "but look you here, little woman, that big pocket doesn't suit +such a place as Cardiff, 'tis too easily got at; tie your money up +tight and put it inside the breast of your gown." + +"Yes," said Sara, obeying, "and thank you." + +"Look alive, then, and I will take you on board." + +Sara found a seat near the prow of the ship. + +"We'll have to tie a few weights to you by and by, I'm thinking, or +you'll be blown away," said the captain, as he kindly arranged some +boxes and baskets so as to shelter her a little from the strong March +wind. + +"Am I the only passenger?" + +"Yes. 'Tis mostly goods we carry, but sometimes we have a stray +passenger. And where would you be going now so far from Garthowen Moor +in your old age?" + +Welsh curiosity is a quantity that has to be taken into account. + +"I am going to Cardiff." + +"Yes, yes; but when you get there?" + +"I don't know for sure." + +The captain looked grave. + +"You have a daughter, perhaps, or a son at Cardiff?" + +"No, neither," said Sara. "'Tis the oldest son of Garthowen I am +seeking for--Gethin Owens, have you ever seen him?" + +"Gethin Owens!" said the captain, in a tone of surprise. "What? the +dark brown chap with the white teeth and the bright eyes like a +starling's?"--Sara nodded--"and gold rings in his ears?" + +"That's him," said Sara. "Do you know him?" + +"Caton pawb! as well as if he was my own son. He's mate of the +_Gwenllian_, trading to Monte Video and other foreign parts. The +_Gwenllian_ sailed about four months ago and would be back about now. +Is that what you are expecting?" + +"Yes," said Sara, "Ebben Owens Garthowen is wearing his heart away +longing for his son, and I think if I can see him I have news for him +that will bring him to the old home." + +"Well, well," said the captain, "little did I think the mate of the +_Gwenllian_ was the son of my old friend Ebben Owens Garthowen! Why! +long ago I have been stopping with him, when he was a young man and I +the same. I remember he was courting a handsome girl there, the finest +lass you ever set your eyes upon, straight she was, and tall, with +brown hair and dark blue eyes, like the night sky with the stars in it; +oh! she was a fine lass, and she carried her pail on her head as +straight as a willow wand," and the old captain clasped his own waist +above the hips, and strutted about with an imaginary pail on his head. +"Well, I heard afterwards that Ebben Owens treated her shocking bad, +and married another girl, with money, but they say he never cared for +her, and was never happy with her; and serve him right, say I. Dear! +dear! how the time slips by!" + +"Yes," said Sara, "he is an old man now, and in sore trouble. I live +on his land, and I want to bring happiness back to Garthowen." + +"Of course, of course!" said the captain, "but indeed; little woman, +I'm afraid you'll have hard work, for there's something strange about +that lad lately; he's keeping with the English sailors when he's in +port and avoiding all his old companions. I have heard my son tell of +him too, and how altered he is, and how angry the Welsh sailors are +with him, but I believe he is stiddy and upright." + +"Well," said Sara, "if I can only have a word with him 'twill be all +right." + +"Jar-i! you have pluck, little woman, and 'tis well to have a friend +like you. Well, I'll do my best for you. I'll find you a night's +lodging and somebody to show you the way about next day. Mrs. Jones, +Bryn Street, would take you in; it's where I go myself when I do spend +a night ashore." + +"A hundred thanks. That's where I'd like to go because I know her and +her mother." + +When the captain left her she fell into a reverie, her sweet, patient +face, with its delicate complexion, lighted up by the images of +retrospection; the dark blue eyes, which held so much insight and +purpose in their depths, were still beautiful under their arched +eyebrows, the soft, straight fringe of hair combed down over her +forehead like a little child's showed the iron-grey of age, and the +mouth, a little sunken, told the same tale, but the spirit of love and +peace within preserved to Sara a beauty that was not dependent upon +outward form. It was felt by all who came in contact with her, and +perhaps was the cause of the curious feeling of awe with which her +neighbours regarded her. + +As the little puffing steamer ploughed her way through the clear, green +water, the ever-changing sky of a March day overhead, the snow-white +wreaths of spray, the clear white line of the horizon, the soft grey, +receding shore, all unheeded by the captain and his three subordinates, +aroused in Sara's mind the intense pleasure that only a heart at peace +with itself and with Nature can feel, and as she leant her soft veined +hands on her crutched stick, resting her chin upon them, a little +picturesque figure on the commonplace, modern steamer, the romance of +life which we are apt to associate only with the young, added its charm +to the thoughts of the woman of many years. The beauty of the world, +the joy of it, the great hopes of it, all filled her soul to +overflowing, for she believed her journey would bring light and +happiness to Ebben Owens. This had been the desire of her young life, +and would now be granted to her in her old age. Yes! Sara's heart was +full of joy and gratitude, for she knew neither doubt nor fear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE MATE OF THE "GWENLLIAN" + +"There!" said Mrs. Jones next morning, as she gave Sara's toilet a +finishing touch, consisting of sundry tugs of adjustment to the red +mantle and an encouraging pat on the shoulders; "there! go 'long with +you now and find your precious Gethin, and give him a good scolding +from me. Tell him he is the last man in the world I would expect to +desert an old friend as he has done lately. There! the sight of such a +tidy, fresh-looking little country woman will do our pale-faced town +people good. Oh, anwl! I wish my Tom was alive; he'd have piloted you +straight to the _Gwenllian_. He knew every ship that came into the +docks. His heart was with the shipping though he could do nothing but +look at them, poor boy!" and drying her eyes with her apron she +dismissed Sara, who started with a brave heart. + +Up the grimy, uninteresting Bryn Street, which the bright morning +sunlight scarcely improved, and soon into a wide, busy thoroughfare +where hurrying footsteps and jostling crowds somewhat disconcerted her. + +The gay shops, especially the fruit shops, interested her greatly, as +well as the vehicles of every description, from the humble +costermonger's to the handsome broughams bearing their wealthy owners +to their offices for the day; the prettily-dressed children who toddled +beside their busy mothers to their early shopping; and, above all, the +strains of a brass band which was enlivening the morning hours with its +familiar _repertoire_. Each and all were a revelation of delight to +the simple peasant. Straight from the gorse and heather, a woman +exceptionally endowed with the instincts of a refined nature, one whose +only glimpses of the world had been gathered from the street of a small +provincial town, was it to be wondered at that to her the varied sights +and sounds around her seemed like the pageantry of a dream? + +"'Tis a blue and gold world," she murmured, "and I'm glad I have seen +it before I die, but I can't think why the people look so dull and +cross." + +Although she was unconscious of it, she was herself an object of +interest to the hurrying passers-by. Many of them turned round to look +at the picturesque peasant woman, with her country gown and quaint +headgear. + +"A woman come down from the hills," said a lady to her companion, as +Sara passed them, for a moment raising her eyes to theirs. + +"And what a sweet face, and what wonderful eyes, so dark and blue. +There is something touching in that smooth fringe of grey hair." + +But Sara passed on unheeding. She was now in a quieter street, and as +she passed under the high grey walls of the jail, the prison van +crossed her path. The heavy iron doors opened and it passed out of her +sight; the doors closed with a soft click and a turn of the key, and +Sara went on her way with a sigh. + +"There are grey and black shadows in the making of it, too," she said, +and hurried on. + +Once or twice she stopped to ask her way of a passer-by. + +"The docks this way? Yes, go on, and turn to the left." + +At the end of the road she came upon a crowd of boys who were playing +some street game with loud shouts and laughter, and Sara, who had +hitherto braved all dangers, shrank a little. + +"Hello, mother! where are you going? There's a penny to pay for +passing through this way," and they crowded clamorously around her. + +She looked at them calmly, disregarding their begging. + +"Iss one of you will show me the docks, then shall he have a penny. +You," she said, pointing to one with a round pale face, and honest +black eyes. + +"Yes 'll I," said the boy, and he turned down a corner, beckoning to +her to follow. + +"Go on, old witch!" cried the disappointed ones; "where's your broom?" + +"Can't you speak Welsh?" she asked, as she came abreast with her guide. + +"Yes, that can I," said the boy in his native tongue. + +"Oh, very good, then. 'Tis the _Gwenllian_ I am wanting--Captain +Price--can you find her?" + +"Oh, yes, come on," said the boy. "I was on board of her yesterday +morning, but she was about sailing for Toulon with a cargo of coal. +Most like she's gone." + +Sara's heart sank, and as they came in sight of the forests of masts, +the bales of goods, the piles of boards, of pig iron, of bricks and all +the other impedimenta of a wharf, for the first time her heart was full +of misgivings. + +"Stop you there," said the boy, "and I will go and see," and he darted +away, leaving Sara somewhat forlorn amongst the rough crowd of sailors +and dockmen. + +"Hullo, mother!" said a jolly-looking red-faced man who had nearly +toppled over the little frail figure; "what you doing so far from home? +They are missing you shocking in some chapel away in the hills +somewhere, I'm sure." + +"Well, indeed, 'tis there I would like to go as soon as my business is +ended. 'Tis Gethin Owens I am looking for, mate of the _Gwenllian_." + +"Oh, ho," said the man, "you may go back to chapel at once, little +woman; you won't find him, for he sailed yesterday for France." + +At this moment the boy returned with the same information, and Sara +turned her face sorrowfully away from the shipping. + +"I will give you two pennies if you will take me back to Bryn Street." + +"Come on," said the boy. + +He did not tell her that his home lay in that identical street, and +that he was already due there. + +Once more the little red mantle passed through the busy crowd. Not for +years had Sara felt so sad and disappointed, the heavy air of the town +probably added to her dejection. + +Mrs. Jones was loud in her sympathy as Sara, faint and weary, seated +herself on the settle. + +"Oh, Kitty Jones fach!" she said, leaning on her stick and swaying +backwards and forwards. "I am more sorry than I can say. To go back +without comfort for Garthowen or my little Morva. He's gone to France, +and I suppose he won't be back for a year or six months, whatever, and +I have no money to stop here all that time." + +"Six months!" said Mrs. Jones; "there's ignorant you are in the +country. Why, he'll be back in a fortnight, perhaps a week. What's +the woman talking about?" + +"Yes, indeed?" said Sara, in delighted astonishment. "Yes, I am a very +ignorant woman, I know, but a week or a fortnight, or even three weeks, +I will stop," and the usual look of happy content once more beamed in +her eyes. + +Every day little Tom Jenkins, upon whom Sara's two pennies had made a +favourable impression, went down to the docks to see if the _Gwenllian_ +had arrived. When a week, a fortnight, and nearly three weeks had +passed away, and still she was not in port, Mrs. Jones suggested that +probably she had extended her voyage to some other port, or was perhaps +waiting for repairs. + +At last one sunny morning Tom Jenkins came in with a whoop. + +"The _Gwenllian_ is in the docks!" he cried, and Sara prepared at once +for another expedition in that direction. + +"Wait a bit," said Mrs. Jones. "You can write, Sara?" + +"Yes, in Welsh," said the old woman. + +"Well, then, send a letter, and Tom will take it for you." + +Sara took her advice, and, putting on her spectacles, wrote as follows: + + +"Sara Lloyd, Garthowen Moor, is writing to thee, Gethin Owens, to say +she is here at Mrs. Jones's, No. 2 Bryn Street, with good news for +thee. All the way from Garthowen to fetch thee, my boy, so come as +soon as thou canst." + + +The writing was large and sprawly, it was addressed to "Gethin Owens, +mate of the _Gwenllian_,--Captain Price," and when Tom had departed, +with the letter safe in his jacket pocket, the two women set themselves +to wait as patiently as they could; but the hours dragged on heavily +until tea-time. + +"Gethin was fond of his tea," said Mrs. Jones, "and I wouldn't wonder +if he'd be here before long." + +The tea table was laid, the cakes were toasted the tea brewing was +delayed for some time. It was Mrs. Jones's turn now to be anxious, and +even irritable; but Sara had quite regained her composure. + +"He'll come," she said. "I know he'll come. I know my work is nearly +over." + +"There's missing you I'll be," said Mrs. Jones. "I wish my poor old +mother was as easy to live with as you, Sara; but 'tis being alone so +long has made her cranky. And the money--oh, she loves it dearly. +Indeed, if I can get Davy to agree, we will give up this house and go +home and live near her; 'tis pity the old woman should grow harder in +her old age." + +"Yes," said Sara. "'Tis riper and softer we ought to be growing in our +old age, more ready to be gathered. I will go and see her sometimes; +oftener than I have." + +Their conversation was interrupted by a shadow passing the window, and +a firm footstep in the passage. + +"Hoi, hoi!" said a loud, breezy voice, "Mrs. Jones!--how is she here?" +and Gethin Owens clasped her hand with a resounding clap. + +"Much you care how I am, Gethin Owens. Never been to see me for so +long." + +"Well, you look all the better for my absence, I think. But what you +want with me? Tom Jenkins said an old woman wanted to see me shocking, +and I gave him a clatch on his ear, to teach him not to call a young +woman like you an old woman. Why, you look ten years younger than when +I saw you last." + +"Go 'long, Gethin Owens," said Mrs. Jones. "Didn't you have the +letter?" + +"No. Tom said the boys in the streets had torn it in a scrimmage they +had; but he gave me your message." + +"Well, come in and look on the settle then." + +In the shadow of the settle, Sara sat listening to the conversation, +with a look of amusement in her eyes. + +Gethin looked a moment into the dark corner, and, recognising her, took +two steps in advance, with extended hands and a smiling greeting on his +lips; but suddenly the whole expression of his face changed to one of +anxiety and distrust. + +"What is it," he said, "has brought you so far, Sara? Is the old man +dead?" + +"Nonsense, no!" said Sara. + +"Well, you wouldn't come so far to tell me Will was married." + +"Indeed I would, then," she said, rising. "Come, thou foolish boy, +didn't I say it was good news? Oh! but thou hasn't had my letter." + +Gethin took both her hands between his own. + +"Tis very kind of thee, Sara fach, but a letter would have brought me +the news quite as safely. Well! I wish him joy. 'Tisn't Gethin Owens +is going to turn against his brother, because he has been a fortunate +man, while I have been unfortunate. Yes, I wish him joy, and sweet +Morva every blessing under the sun." + +"Twt, twt!" said Sara, "thee art all wrong, my boy. 'Tisn't Morva he +has married at all! and that's how I thought a letter could not explain +everything to thee as I could myself, and bring thee home to the old +country again." + +Gethin shook his head. + +"No, no; I have said good-bye to Garthowen, I will never go there +again." + +"Well! why?" said Sara, still holding his hands, and looking into his +face with those compelling eyes of hers. + +"There is no need to tell thee, Sara," said the sailor, a dogged, +defiant look coming into his eyes. "I have said good-bye to Garthowen, +and will never darken its doors again." + +"And yet thou hast been very happy there?" + +"Ah! yes," said Gethin, a tender smile chasing away the angry look on +his face. "I was very happy there indeed, when I whistled at my +plough, with the song of the larks in my ears, and the smell of the +furze filling the air. But now--no--no! I must never turn my face +there again." + +"Wilt not, indeed?" asked Sara. "Wait till I've told thee all, my lad. +And now I have a strange story to tell thee, 'tis of thy poor old +father, Gethin." + +"My father? what's the matter with him? Thou hast said he's alive, +what then? Is he ill? Not ill? What then, Sara?" and his face took a +frightened expression; "what evil has come upon the old man?" + +His voice sank very low as he clutched the old woman's hand and wrung +it unconsciously. + +"What is it? not shame, Sara--say, woman, 'tis not shame that has come +upon him in his old age!" + +Sara was embarrassed for the first time. + +"Shame," she said, "in the eyes of men, is sometimes honour in the eyes +of God! Listen, Gethin--Dost remember the night of thy going from +Garthowen?" + +He nodded with a serious look in his eyes. + +"That night I had a dream; only, I was awake when I saw it. I was at +Garthowen in my dream, and I saw a dark figure entering Gwilym Morris's +room; he stooped down and opened a drawer, and took something out of +it. I could not see the man's face, but it was not _thee_, Gethin, +though thy sudden disappearance made them think at first, that thou +wert the thief; only Morva and I knew better. She heard a footstep +that night, and when she went out to the passage, she saw thee coming +out of that room. But she and I knew that it was not thou who took the +money. What dreadful sight met thee in that room, Gethin bach, we did +not know, but it was something that made thee reel out like a drunken +man." + +"It was, it was," he answered, shuddering and covering his eyes with +his hands, as though he saw it still. + +"'Twas a sight that shadowed the whole world to me, and has altered my +life ever since. Dei anwl! 'twas a sight I would give my whole life +not to have seen." + +"I know it all now, my boy, and I know what thou must have suffered. +_'Twas thy father who took Gwilym Morris's money_. Sorrow and bitter +repentance have been his companions by day, and have sat by his pillow +at night, ever since he was tempted to commit that sin. He has become +thin, and haggard, and old. He confessed it all at the Sciet. And +think how hard it must have been for him to bring himself to tell it +all before the men who had thought so highly of him. 'Twas for Will's +sake, but 'twas you that he wronged, Gethin, and that is what is +breaking his heart." + +"Me!" said Gethin. "Me? He is not grieving for me, is he? Poor old +man! he did me no wrong; 'twas I by going away, brought the dishonour +upon myself. And he confessed it all!" + +"Yes," said Sara, "and made it all as black as he could. Canst forgive +him, Gethin?" + +"Forgive him? Fancy Gethin Owens _forgiving_ anyone! as if he was such +a good man himself! especially his own father! I have nothing to +forgive; he did me no harm, poor old man. And if all the world is +going to turn against him because his love for his son did prove +stronger than his honesty, why! it's home to Garthowen I'll go, to +cheer him and to love him, and to show the world that I for one will +stick to him, weak or strong, upright or sinful!" + +"Gethin bach! thou know'st what real love is! Love that no folly or +weakness, or even sin, in the dear one can alter. That is what I have +come to fetch; a son to support and comfort my old friend in his latter +days. Gwilym Morris is good and kind to him, and Ann--thou know'st +they are married these four years?" + +"Yes, Jim Brown told me, and I was very glad." + +"But 'tis his own son he is longing for. ''Tis my boy Gethin I want to +see,' he says; 'he was so kind to me.'" + +"Did he say that?" + +"That did he." + +"Diwss anwl! I never knew he cared a button for me." + +He was longing to ask for Morva. + +"Thee hasn't asked for Morva yet," said Sara. + +"Is she well?" + +"Oh! well--quite well, and as happy as a bird since Will is married." + +"Since Will is married! How can that be if he has deserted her and +married another woman? I never thought Will would do that! And who +has he married? + +"A lady, Gethin! Miss Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny--didst ever hear such +a thing?--and as sweet a girl as ever lived!" + +"Well, well, and so Will has married a lady? Well, that's his choice, +mine would never lie that way; a simple country lass for me, or else +none at all, and most likely 'twill be that. Well, we may say good-bye +to Will. I suppose we sha'n't see much more of him." + +"Perhaps not." + +"But 'tis Morva I'm thinking of, Sara; how does she bear it? She is +hiding her grief from you--she loved him, I know she loved him! and for +him to turn from her and give his love to another must have been a +cruel grief to her." + +"Gethin," said the old woman, "she never loved him. She promised to +marry him when she was a child, before she knew what love meant, but +since she has grown up her heart has been refusing to keep the promise +which bound her to Will. She has tried over and over again to get her +freedom; like those poor birds we see caught in the net sometimes, she +has fluttered and fluttered, but all in vain; and when the letter came +from Will to Garthowen telling his father of the wonderful marriage +that was coming so near, 'twas as if someone had broken the net and let +the bird go free. And there's Morva now, happy and bright like she was +before she found out that her promise to Will was galling her sore. +'Tis only one thing she wants now, Gethin. 'Tis for Garthowen to be +happy, and that will never be till thou art home once more. Come, +Gethin bach, come home with me; our hearts are all set upon thee." + +"Halt!" said Gethin, and he pushed his fingers through his hair until +it stood on end. "Phew! Mrs. Jones was never stinting with her fire; +'tis stifling hot here," and he turned away to the doorway, and stood a +moment looking out into the street. "Will married--and not to Morva!" +What wild hopes were rising again within him? but he crushed them down, +and turned on his heel with a laugh. "How you women can live day after +day with a roaring fire I can't think--but come, Sara, on with your +story." + +"Well!" she said, "all the way from Garthowen I have come to fetch +thee, Gethin, and thou must come home with me." + +"Would Morva like to see me?" he said, in a low, uncertain voice. + +"Oh! Gethin, thou art a foolish man, and a blind man! Morva does not +know what I have come here for; but if thou ask'st me the question, +'Would Morva be glad to see me?' I answer 'Yes.'" + +"D'ye think that--that--" + +"Never mind what I think, come home and find out for thyself." + +"Sara, woman," said Gethin, bringing his fist down with a thump on the +table, "take care what you are doing. I tell you it has taken me three +long years to smother the hopes which awoke in my heart when I was last +at home. Don't awake them again, lest they should master me; unless +you have some gleam of hope to give me." + +Sara laughed joyfully. + +"Well, now, how much will satisfy thee?" + +"D'ye think, Sara, she could ever be brought to love me?" + +"Well," she said mischievously, "thee canst try, Gethin. Come home and +try, man!" + +"What day is it to-day? 'Tis Tuesday; I'll only stop to settle with +Captain Price, and I'll come home, Sara. Wilt stop for me?" + +"No, no, I have been too long from home. Tomorrow the _Fairy Queen_ is +going back, and I will go with her. I can trust thee, my boy, to +follow me soon." + +"Dei anwl! Yes! the ship's hawser wouldn't keep me back! I'll be down +there one of these next days. I'll cheer the old man up--and Sara, +woman, I have money to lay out on the farm. 'Tis too long a story to +tell thee now, how a man I helped a bit in the hospital at Montevideo +died, and left me all his money, 500 pounds! I didn't care a +cockleshell for it, but to-day I am beginning to be glad of it. +There's glad I'll be to see the old place again! Mrs. Jones," he +shouted, "come here and hear the good news. Didn't I tell you years +ago I was going home to Garthowen, to the cows and the sheep and the +cawl! and so I am then, and it is this good little woman who has +brought it about!" and clasping his arms round Sara, he drew her from +the settle, and twisted her round in a wild dance of delight, Sara +entreating, laughing, and scolding in turns. + +"Caton pawb! the boy will kill me!" but he seated her gently on the +settle before he went away. + +"I'll be on the wharf to meet you to-morrow, Sara, and see you safe on +board the _Fairy Queen_. Good-night, woman, 'tis a merry heart you are +sending away to-night!" and as he passed up the street they heard his +cheerful whistle until he had turned the corner. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +GETHIN'S STORY + +True to his promise, Gethin was early at the docks, and as he sat +dangling his legs over a coil of rope, he laughed and slapped his knee, +when amongst the crowd of loiterers on the wharf-side he saw Sara's red +mantle appear. + +"Didn't I say so?" he exclaimed, crossing to meet her, "didn't I say +you'd be here an hour and a half too soon? Just like a country woman! +why, the ship must wait for the tide, Sara fach. But I'm glad you're +come, we shall have time for a chat; there's some things I want you to +know before I see you again." + +"Afraid I was, 'machgen i," said Sara, "that the steamer would start +without me, and I will be quite happy to sit here and wait. Dear, +dear! how full the world is of wonders that we never know of down there +in the gorse and heather! all these strange people, different faces, +different languages. Gethin bach, those who roam away from home see +much to open their minds." + +"Yes," said Gethin, "and much to make them sick of it all; 'tis glad +I'll be to say good-bye to it, and to settle down in the old home +again. But the time is passing, Sara fach, and I wanted to tell thee +what I have never told any one else, why I left Garthowen so suddenly. +I can tell you now, since my father has let every one know of it; but I +couldn't talk about it before Kitty Jones last night, for 'tis a bitter +thing to know your father has been dishonourable, and has lost the +respect of his neighbours. Well--'twas a night I never will +forget--that night when Gwilym Morris lost his bag of gold; 'twas a +night, Sara, that made a deep mark on me, a blow it was that nearly +drove me to destruction and ruin. I may as well tell thee everything, +Sara, and make a clean breast of it all. I had grown so fond of Morva, +Diwss anwl! she was in my thoughts morning, noon, and night, and I +thought she cared for me a little; but there I was mistaken, I suppose, +for when I asked her, she told me she was promised to Will. 'Here +behind this very bush,' she said, 'only two nights ago, I met him, and +I promised him again that I would be true to him.' I have been in +foreign lands when an earthquake shook the world under my feet, and at +those words of Morva's I felt the same, as if the world was going to +pieces; but I had to bear it; 'tis wonderful how much a man can bear!" + +"And a woman too, 'machgen i," said Sara, laying her soft hand upon +his, "'twas a bitter time for Morva too." + +"I didn't know that," said Gethin, "or 'twould have been worse to bear. +Well, when I went to bed that night, there was no sleep for me, no more +sleep than if I was steering a ship through a stormy sea. Well, that +dreadful night, the old house was very quiet, no sound but the clock +ticking very loud, and the owls crying to the moon; there was something +wrong with Tudor too, he was howling shocking all night, and 'twas a +thing I never heard him do before, perhaps because I slept too sound. +I tossed and turned till the clock struck twelve, and then I began to +feel drowsy; but all of a sudden I was as wide awake as I am now. I +thought I could hear a soft footstep in the passage, as if someone was +walking without shoes; I listened so hard I could hear my heart +beating. I thought 'twas a thief, or perhaps a murderer, and I +determined to rush upon him, but somehow I could not move, for I heard +a hand rubbing over the wall; 'tis whitewashed and rough you know, +Sara, and the hand was a rough hand--I could hear that; then somebody +passed my door, and in to Gwilym Morris's room. I was out of bed in a +minute, and across the passage in the dark, for there were black clouds +that night, and the moon was hidden sometimes. Just as I reached the +door of Gwilym's room, whatever, she came out and lighted up the whole +place, and there, Sara, I saw a sight that made my heart leap up in my +throat. Indeed, indeed, 'twas a sight that I would give my life never +to have seen, but I did see it, Sara, plain enough, and now you know +what it was, and I can't bring my lips to put it into words. I turned +back to my bed with my hands over my eyes, as if I could tear away the +horrid sight. And if 'twas like an earthquake when Morva refused me, +'twas worse--oh, much worse--when I saw what I did. My old father had +always been so dear to me--so much I loved him, so highly I thought of +him, although, I knew he was over fond of a drop sometimes; but caton +pawb! I would have staked my life on his honour, and more upon his +honesty. I lay awake of course that night--yes, and many a night +after, going over my troubles--worse than that, my shame; and through +all my tossing and turning, one thought was clear before me, 'twould be +better for me to bear the blame than for old Ebben Owens Garthowen to +be known as a thief. I thought I would be far away in foreign lands or +on distant seas, and so I would not hear the whispering, nor see the +pointing of the fingers. What did it matter what people said about me? +Morva would not have me, so what was the use of a good name to me?" + +"I got up before the sun rose, and I pushed a few things into my canvas +bag, and went quiet down the stairs. I stopped a minute outside Ann +and Morva's room. I could hear them breathing soft and regular, and so +I hoped they had slept all night. Then I went into the dairy and cut +enough bread and cheese to last for the day, and before anyone was up +at Garthowen, I was far on my way towards Caer-Madoc. + +"I sailed from there to Cardiff, and there on the docks I saw many of +my old friends--Tom Powell and Jim Bowen, and many others; but diwss +anwl! I was ashamed to look them in the face, so I avoided them all, +and went amongst the English and the foreign sailors; and in every port +I was avoiding the Welsh sailors, and when I came to Cardiff I never +went to Kitty Jones's any more. + +"Well, then, I took ship for South America, and I didn't come home for +two years. All that time I led a wild and reckless life, Sara fach. +Wasn't a fight but I was in it--wasn't a row but Gethin Owens was +there, drinking and swearing and rioting. I didn't care a cockle-shell +what became of me; and if ever a man was on the brink of destruction, +it was Gethin Owens of Garthowen during those two years. I tried +everything to drown my sorrows. + +"'Twas just then in Monte Video I caught a fever--the yellow fever they +call it--and I was in the hospital there for many weeks. They told me +afterwards that I had a very bad turn of it. The doctors said they'd +never seen a man so ill and yet recover. I took their word for it. +But I knew nothing about it myself, for I was as happy as a king those +weeks, roaming about Garthowen slopes, dancing in the mill, and +whistling at the plough, and Morva at my side always. Dei anwl! When +I came to myself, and saw the bare, whitewashed walls of the hospital, +the foreign nurses moving about--very kind and tender they were, too, +but 'twasn't Morva--Garthowen slopes, Morva, the mill and the moor had +all gone, and when I saw where I was, what will you think of me, Sara, +when I tell you I cried like a little child, like I did the day when I +tore myself away from little Morva long ago, when I ran away from home, +and heard her calling after me, 'Gethin! Gethin!' + +"The nurse was very kind to me. She saw my tears were falling like the +rain. ''Tis weak you are, poor fellow,' says she, for she could speak +English. God bless her! I will never forget her. And she did her +best to strengthen me with good food and cheering words; and in time I +got well, but 'twas many months before I felt like myself again. + +"Well, in the next bed to mine was a man, brought in when I was at my +worst, or my best, having that jolly time on Garthowen slopes with +Morva. When I came to myself, he was there, poor fellow, as yellow as +a guinea, with black shadows under his eyes, and the parched lips that +showed he was having a hard fight for his life. But singing he was all +through the long nights in that strange place, though his voice was so +weak and husky you could scarcely hear him; but the words, Sara fach! +I almost rose up in my bed when I heard them. What d'ye think they +were but, 'Yn y dyfroedd mawr a'r tonau'?[1] My heart leapt out to him +at once, and I tried hard to speak to him, but he couldn't hear me; and +when I was getting better he was getting worse, till one day the black +vomit came on, and then I thought 'twas all over with him. But instead +of that, it seemed to do him good, for he got better after that, and +very soon I was able to sit a bit by his bedside, and to talk to him +about the old country. His name was Jacob Ellis, and he had been +captain of the _Albatross_ trading between Swansea and Cardiff and +Monte Video. He hadn't a relation in the world that he knew of. He +had got on well, and had saved five hundred pounds. They were safe in +the bank at Cardiff, and when he found he was not going to get better +after all--for he hadn't the same healthy constitution that I +had--well, nothing would do for him but he must make his will and leave +all he had to me. 'Twas all right and proper, Sara, and the nurse and +the doctor witnessed it. + +"Caton pawb! he thought I had done a lot for him, poor fellow; when, if +he only knew, the Welsh hymns and the talks about Wales had helped me +to get well. I had my hand on his, just like you have yours on mine +now, when he died. He said a few serious words to me before he went, +Sara. I will keep them to myself, but I can tell you they often come +back to my memory. Well, he died and I got well, and as soon as I was +strong enough I hired on board a ship bound for Cardiff. I went at +once to a lawyer to see about my 500 pounds, and I felt a rich man, I +can tell you, but there was no pleasure in it, Sara. + +"I would willingly have thrown it over the docks, if that would blot +out one evening behind the broom bushes at Garthowen, and one night +when I saw a sight which spoilt my life. It's twenty minutes to the +starting time yet, Sara. Art tired, or will I tell the rest of my +story?" + +"Go on, 'machgen i," said Sara, "tell it me all today, and there will +be no need for us ever to have any more talk about it." + +"No; that is what I wish," said Gethin. "Well, with my pay in my +pocket, and 500 pounds at my back, I thought I would enjoy myself as +much as I could, and smother the hiraeth[2] that was so strong upon me, +the longing to go home to see Morva, and you, and the moor, Sara; my +father, Ann, and Will, and all of them were dragging sore at my heart, +so I threw myself in with a lot of roystering fellows, who were bent +upon having as many sprees as they could while their money lasted. I +was keeping away from the Welsh sailors entirely, and my friend, Ben +Barlow, and I were having what they call in English a jolly time. We +went together to a low place near the docks, where there was singing +and dancing every night for sailors. I saw many of my old companions +there and amongst them was a girl called Bella Lewis, who used to come +often to see Kitty Jones in Bryn Street. She wasn't a bad sort +altogether, very kind-hearted and merry. She was altered a good deal +since I saw her last, she looked older and thinner, but she was +laughing and dancing as lively as ever. As soon as she caught sight of +me, she came to me, and I think she was real glad to see me, because +she thought I had been kind to her once when she was ill and very poor. + +"'Gethin Owens, I do believe,' she says, 'where have you been all this +long time? Kitty Jones will be glad to see you, whatever.' + +"I saw the foreign sailor she had been dancing with looking very black +at me, and I began to laugh, and talk, and joke with Bella, just to +plague him, and we danced and drank together, and I soon saw that the +two years I had been away had not improved her. She was more noisy, +and her talk was more coarse, and many an oath was on her lips. I saw +it, but I didn't care, because I had become quite reckless, and my +laugh and my jokes were louder than anyone's in the room. + +"'Well, wherever you have been,' says Bella, 'you're very much +improved, Gethin.' + +"'Am I that?' says I. 'And how, then?' + +"'Oh, well, you are not afraid of a joke, and you've not got that hard +look on your mouth when you hear a light word. Oh, anwl! I was afraid +of you those days; but I will say you had a kind heart, Gethin Owens.' + +"'Well,' I says, 'that's alright still, whatever.'" + +"'Well then,' she says, 'if it is, you'll take me to the Vampire +Theatre to-night. Come on, Gethin Owens, for the sake of old times,' +she says; and I was glad to see her, certainly, 'twas so long since I +had met an old friend, and the brandy had got in my head a little, +though I hadn't had so much as Bella. + +"'Come on, then,' sez I, for I couldn't refuse her when she said 'for +the sake of old times'; and I looked round for Ben Barlow to tell him I +was going, but I couldn't see him anywhere. Well, off we went +together, and when we got out in the street, in spite of the flaring +gas-lamps, you could see 'twas a beautiful night. The moon was shining +round and clear above us, and I never could see the full moon, Sara, +even far away in foreign countries, without thinking of Garthowen +slopes and the moor. Well, this night they came before me very plain, +but I shut them out from my thoughts, with the music from The Vampire +sounding loud in nay ears, and Bella Lewis hanging on my arm. + +"All of a sudden, when we reached the door of the theatre, Bella turned +round, and something glittered on her neck in the moonlight. + +"'What is that?' I said, pointing to it. + +"''Tis my necklace that you gave me,' she said; 'twas in my pocket at +the dancing. I was so afraid it would drop off.' + +"And there it was hanging row under row, and the shells showing all +their colours in the bright moonlight. I don't know how can such +things be, Sara, but as sure as I'm here I saw Morva standing there, +just as I saw her that night when I gave her her necklace, standing +under the elder-tree, with the round moon shining full on her face. +Sara, woman, I nearly lost my breath, and had to lay my hand on the +doorpost to steady myself. Bella had hold of my arm, and I felt as if +a snake was hanging there that I wanted to throw off. The music came +full and loud into the street, and I hated it all. I cannot tell what +came over me, but my knees trembled and my hands--mine, remember, +Gethin Owens, the big, strong sailor!--my hands were shaking like a +leaf when I took the tickets. I tried to throw it off, and to laugh +and talk again with Bella. + +"'What's the matter?' she said; but I couldn't answer, for whenever I +looked at her that glittering necklace brought Morva's face before me +so plain as if she had been there herself; and when we sat down in the +theatre I couldn't hear the music and I couldn't see the stage, because +soft in my ears was Morva's voice calling me, like she called me that +day on the slopes when I tore myself from her little clinging arms: +'Gethin! Gethin! come back!' was plain in my ears. + +"I looked round me quite moidered. Lots of Bella's friends were there, +and lots of mine; but I could not stop. I stood up, determined to go +out, whatever the others might think of me, for all the time Morva's +voice was in my ears calling 'Gethin! Gethin!' + +"'I am going,' said I to Bella; 'somebody is calling me.' And there, +close to me, who should I see but Ben Barlow sitting alone. I pushed +the play bill in his hand. 'Look after Bella,' I said; 'I am going,' +and I went towards the door. I could hear Bella's friends laughing and +shouting, and the last thing I heard as I went out was a shower of bad +names and foul words that Bella was flinging after me. + +"The tide is nearly full, I see; she'll be starting directly, but I +have almost told you everything now. + +"I shipped for another long voyage after that, and only now I have come +back; but indeed, Sara fach, whether 'twas a dream or vision, or what, +I don't know, but never, in storms or wrecks or fine weather, on land +or sea, will I forget the strong hand that laid hold of me that night, +and turned my face away from the music, the lights, the sin and the +folly of the town. I have told thee all, Sarah fach. Wilt still be my +friend?" + +"For ever, 'machgen i!" + +"Then it is to the old country I'm going, Sara, back to the sea wind, +the song of the lark, and the call of the seagulls on the bay. I'll be +home one of these days; as soon as I can get things settled here. +Diwss anwl! I must make haste or the steamer will start with me +aboard. All right, captain, take care of her. She's a good friend to +me." + +"Don't I know it?" said the old captain, shaking hands warmly with +both. "Didn't she come up with me about a month ago, and didn't I +direct her to safe lodgings? 'Fraid I was, man, that with her innocent +face and her wide tick pocket, she would be robbed or murdered or +something. But here you are safe again, little woman. Going home to +the old countryside?" + +"Yes," said Sara, laughing. "I am quite safe, and I have spent a +pleasant time with Kitty Jones, but I am not sorry to leave your big +smoky town. Ach y fi! 'tis pity to think so many people live and die +there without sight of the sea and the cliffs and the moor. Poor +things! poor things!" + +"Well! 'tis well to be contented with one's lot," said the old man, +"but I don't know how I would be now without a sight of the docks and +the shipping, and a yarn with my old comrades on the waterside +sometimes, but I am going to try it, whatever. Marged is grumbling +shockin' because I don't stop at home in our little cottage. It's a +purty place, too, just a mile outside Carmarthen, but quiet it is, +shockin' quiet! And you, Gethin Owens, little did I think these two +years I bin meeting you about the docks and the shipping, that you wass +the son of my old friend, Ebben Owens of Garthowen! Why din you tell +me, man?" + +Gethin coloured with embarrassment, while he pretended to arrange a +sheltered seat for Sara, who came bravely to his assistance. + +"And how could he know, captain, that you were the friend of his +father?" she said in Welsh, for she had gathered the sense of the +English talk between the two sailors. + +"Well! that's true indeed," said the captain, scratching his head; "we +were both in the dark. But there's the bell! You must go, my lad, if +you won't come with us." + +"Not to-day," replied Gethin, "but one of these next days I'll be +following that good little woman." + +And when, from the edge of the wharf, he watched the little steamer +making her way between the river craft, Sara's red mantle making a +bright spot in the grey of the fog and smoke, his heart went with her +to the old homestead, his old haunts, and his old friends. + + + +[1] "In the deep waters and the waves," a well-known and favourite hymn. + +[2] Home sickness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +TURNED OUT! + +The first few days following the Sciet were days of anxious waiting for +Ebben Owens. He had laid his soul bare before his son, the idol of his +life, and he waited for the answer to his letter, with as intense an +anxiety as does a prisoner for the sentence of the judge. He rose with +the dawn as was always his custom, but now, instead of the active +supervision of barn or stable or cowshed, which had filled up the early +morning hours, his time was spent in roaming over the moor or the +lonely shore, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes bent on the +ground. Morva watched him from the door of her cottage, and often, as +the morning mists evaporated in curling wisps before the rising sun, +the sad, gaunt figure would emerge from the shadows and pass over the +moorland path. Then would Morva waylay him with a cheerful greeting. + +"There's a braf day we are going to have, 'n'wncwl Ebben!--" + +"Yes, I think," the old man would answer, looking round him as if just +awakening to the fact. + +"Yes, look at the mist now rolling away from Moel Hiraethog, and look +at those rocks on Traeth y daran which looked so grey ten minutes ago; +see them, all tipped with gold, and, oh, anwl, look at those blue +shadows behind them, and the bay all blue and silver!" + +"Yes," answered her companion, looking round with sad eyes, "'tis all +beautiful." + +"Well, now," said Morva, "I am only an ignorant girl, I know, and I +have many foolish thoughts passing through my mind, but this, 'n'wncwl +Ebben, isn't it a wise and a true one? 'Tis Sara has told me, +whatever." + +"What is it?" he asked. "If Sara told thee 'tis sure to be right." + +"Yes, of course," said Morva. + +The sun was gradually lighting up the moor with golden radiance. The +old man stood with his back to the light, the girl facing him, bathed +in the bright effulgence of the sunrise, her hair in threads of gold +blown by the sea breeze like a halo round her face, her blue eyes +earnest with the light of an inner conviction which she desired to +convey to her companion. + +"Look, now," she said, "how everything is bathed in light and beauty! +Where are the grey shadows and the curling mists? All gone! 'Tis the +same world, 'n'wncwl Ebben, dear, but the sun has come and chased away +the darkness. 'Tis like the grace of God, so mother says, if we will +open our hearts and let it in, it shines upon us like the sunlight. +His love spreads through our whole being, He blots out our sins if we +are sorry for them, He smiles upon us and holds out His loving arms to +us, and yet we turn our backs upon Him, and walk about in the shadows +with our heads bent down, and our eyes fixed upon the ground. Every +morning, mother says, when the sun rises, God is telling us, 'This is +how I love you, this is how I will fill your hearts with warmth and +light and joy.' Now, isn't that true, 'n'wncwl Ebben?" + +"What about the mornings when the mist does not clear away, lass, but +turns to driving rain?" + +"Oh, well, then," said Morva, not a whit daunted, "the rain and the +clouds are wanted sometimes for the good of the earth, and, remember, +'tis only a thin veil they make; the sunshine is behind them all the +time, filling up the blue air, and ready to shine through the least +break in the clouds. And, after all, 'n'wncwl Ebben," she added, in a +coaxing tone, "'tis very seldom the mornings do turn to rain and fog. +You and I, who are out on the mountains so early, know that better than +the townspeople, who lie in bed till nine o'clock, they say, and often +by that time the glory of the morning is shaded over." + +"Well, perhaps," he said. "Thou art more apt to count the clear dawns, +while I count the grey ones." + +"Twt, twt, you must leave off counting the grey ones. There's a verse +in mother's Bible that says, 'Forgetting the things which are behind, +and reaching forth unto those things which are before.'" + +"Yes, indeed, 'merch i, I've read it many times, but I never thought +much of the meaning of it before. 'Tis a comforting verse, whatever, +and I will look for it in my Bible." + +"Yes, I suppose 'tis in every Bible," said Morva, with a merry laugh; +"but, indeed, I feel as if mother's brown Bible was the best in the +world, and was full of messages to brighten our lives. Didn't I say I +was a foolish girl?" + +"Thee't a good girl, whatever; but 'tis time to milk the cows." + +"Yes, indeed. Let me shut the door and I will come back with you." +And as she ran over the dewy grass, he looked after her with a smile. + +"She's got the sea wind in her heels, I think," he said. + +He chatted cheerfully as they walked home together, and gladdened Ann's +heart by making a good breakfast. + +In the course of the morning Morva entered the best kitchen, bearing a +letter which Dyc "pigstye" had just brought from Pont-y-fro. + +"Tis from Will, 'n'wncwl Ebben," said the girl; "here are your glasses, +or will I call Ann to read it to you?" + +"Let me see, is it English or Welsh?" said Ebben Owens, opening it with +trembling fingers. "Oh! 'tis Welsh, so read thou to me. My glasses +are not suiting me so well as they were." + +The truth was, he was too nervous to read the letter himself, a fact +which Morva quite comprehended. + + +"MY DEAR FATHER," began Will, "I daresay you are expecting to hear from +me, but I have had a good deal to do since we returned from our wedding +tour. The contents of this letter will surprise you, I am sure, but I +hope they will please you too. We are very happy in our new home, and +my uncle, though living under the same roof with us, is very kind and +considerate, and never interferes with our plans. He seems very fond +of Gwenda, and it would be strange if he were not, for she is as good +as she is beautiful. The church here is filled with a large +congregation, and they seem to appreciate my ministrations thoroughly. +There is, I am glad to say, very little dissent in the parish. You +know I never liked dissent, but Gwenda is broader in her views, and +wants to convert me to her way of thinking. Now this letter is really +more a message from her than from me. She wants to know if you will +have us at the farm for a week or a fortnight, when the spring is a +little more advanced. She wants to see the moor when the gorse is in +blossom. She would like to know you more intimately, she says, and +would enjoy nothing more than a taste of real farm life; she therefore +begs, that if you can have us you will not make any alteration in your +ways of living. She sends her love to Ann, and hopes she will put up +with her for a little while. If you will let us know when it will be +convenient to you, we will fix a time to come to Garthowen. I remain, +dear father, + + "Your affectionate son, + + "WILLIAM OWEN." + + +Ebben Owens had been gradually growing more excited, and at the last +word said with a gasp: + +"He has forgotten my confession, Morva; I am of no consequence to him!" + +"Yes--yes," said the girl, "here's another half sheet with 'P.S.' at +the top," and she continued to read: + + +"Dear father, Gwenda was looking over my shoulder, so I could not add +what I say now. Please ask Ann to put the best knives and forks on the +table, and to bring out mother's silver teapot when we come. I forgot +to refer to the contents of your last letter. You make too much of +your fault, dear father, you have made a cornstack of a barleymow. I +am only sorry you have published it abroad as you have done. You need +only have confessed to God, or if you wanted to do more, I am an +ordained priest. I can't imagine why you did not ask Gwilym to lend +you the money; at all events you returned it as soon as you could. Ask +Jacob the Mill to keep one of Fan's pups for me." + + +Ebben Owens was too excited by the rest of the letter to notice the +callousness of the postscript, and thought only of the kindness which +so easily forgave his sin. + +"Call Ann," he said, and Morva went joyfully. + +"Come, Ann fach!" she cried, at the foot of the stairs, "here's good +news for you. Will and his wife are coming to see you." + +Ann came down in a flurry, half of pleasure and half of fright. + +"Oh, anwl!" she said, as she entered the kitchen, "there's a happy time +it will be for us all. Oh! mustn't we bustle about and get everything +nice for them. I must rub up the furniture in the best bedroom and get +the silver teapot out and the silver spoons!" + +"Yes," said her father, rubbing his knees, "'twill be a grand time +indeed! When will they come, I wonder? Perhaps we have not quite lost +Will after all." + +"Twt, twt, no," said Morva; "didn't mother always say that they would +come back to you?" + +"Yes, indeed--do you think she meant Gethin too?" + +"I think she meant him too," said Morva, blushing. + +"When will the gorse and the heather be in full bloom, I wonder? Caton +pawb! I have never noticed it much," asked the old man. + +"Oh! in another month," answered Morva, "'twill be gold and purple all +over, with soft blue and brown shadows in the mornings, and in the +evenings grey and copper in all the little hollows. Oh, 'tis +beautiful! and I can show her where the plovers lay their eggs, and I +will take her to listen for the curlew's note coming out of the mist +like a spirit whistler, and I can take her down to the rocks by Ogo +Wylofen, too, where the seals are making their home. But, indeed, Will +knows it all as well as I do, and he will like to show them all to her +himself, I think." + +From that day light seemed to dawn upon the old man's soul; his step +grew firmer, he stooped less in the shoulders, he looked less on the +ground and more bravely on his fellow travellers on the road of life. +He did not flinch from the consequences of his confession, but seemed +to find some inward peace, which more than recompensed him for the +discredit which he had brought upon himself. From this time forward a +great change was observable in him, a change for which we can find no +better name than _conversion_. It is an old-fashioned word, all but +tabooed in modern polite society, but where will be found another which +so well expresses the complete transformation in the life and character +of a man who awakes from the sleep of selfish worldliness, to the +better and higher principles of spiritual life? To every human being +this awakening comes sooner or later. To some, gradually and naturally +as the dawning of morning, and the bright effulgence of its rays is not +recognised until the darkness and clouds have already rolled away, and, +lo, it is day. Upon others it bursts with the suddenness of a +thunderstorm, and the soul cowers under the threatening peals, and is +riven by the lightning flashes of conscience before it reaches the +haven of calm and peace. To some, alas, the awakening comes not at +all, until through the open door of death the soul escapes from the +veil of flesh which has hidden from it the true life. + +"Is there a 'Sciet' next Sunday?" asked Ebben Owens, as they all sat at +tea together one evening. + +"No--not till the Sunday after," said Gwilym, reddening. + +Ann's hand shook as she poured out the tea. + +"Father bach!" she said tenderly, looking at him with eyes in which the +tears welled up. + +"Oh! don't you vex about me," said the old man. "I must bear my +punishment like everyone else; 'twill not be so hard as I deserve." + +"I must not let my feelings influence me in this matter," said Gwilym, +"though you know, father, how it breaks my heart." + +And he held his shapely hand across the table and grasped the old man's +warmly. + +"Yes, yes, 'tis all right; you must do your duty, only I would like it +to be over soon. Gwae fi! that it could be next Sunday." + +"Well, I will give it out at the prayer-meeting tonight if you like, +and have a special meeting next Sunday." + +"Yes," said Ebben Owens, "the sooner I am turned out the better. I am +quite prepared. Perhaps they will take me back again some day, though +I was pretty hard upon Gryffy Lewis when he got drunk, and would not +agree to his being taken back again for months, when the other deacons +were quite ready to forgive him. Well, well! I must live a good many +years yet to repent of all my bad ways, and you must have patience with +me, my little children." + +"Well, next Sunday it shall be then," answered the preacher; "and may +God turn the bitter to sweet for you, father bach." + +"Oh, it will be all right for me!" said the old man again, and sitting +under the big chimney after tea, Tudor and Gwil both leaning on his +knees, the old peace and content seemed in some measure to have +returned to him. + +The following market day was a trying ordeal to him, but one from which +he did not flinch. + +At breakfast no one suggested the usual journey into Castell On, until +Ebben himself called to Magw as she passed through the kitchen. + +"Tell them to harness Bowler, and put the two pigs in the car. I'll +sell them to-day if I can." + +"I will come too," said Ann, "and take little Gwil to have a new cap. +He wants one shocking." + +She chatted volubly as they drove under the leafy ash branches which +bordered the road, her father answering only in monosyllables. + +When the pigs had been carried shrieking, in the usual unceremonious +ear-and-tail fashion into their pens, and Bowler had been led into the +"Lamb" yard, the old man looked rather forlorn and desolate as he gazed +after Ann, who was making her way with little Gwil down the busy street. + +"'Twill be hard to bear to-day," he thought. "They are all talking +about me; but 'tis not so hard as I deserve." + +Suddenly a hand was laid on his arm, and a kindly greeting reached his +ears. Mr. Price the vicar, standing at his window, had observed the +Garthowen car pass into the market, and had startled his housekeeper by +turning round suddenly with the question. + +"Didn't you say we wanted a pig, Jinny?" + +"That I did about six months ago, sare, but you never got one. We +wanted one then because we had so much milk to spare, but now Corwen is +drying up very much, and Beauty is not so good as she was." + +Mr. Price took snuff vigorously. + +"I think a little pig would look well in that stye, and he would be +company for you, Jinny and we could buy a little bran or mash or +something for him," he added, hunting for his stick and hat, and +hurrying to the front door, Jinny looking after him with a smile of +amused disdain. + +"'Ts-ts!" she said; "Mistheer, pwr fellow, is very ignorant, though he +is so learned. 'Tis a wonder, indeed, he didn't want to buy hay for +the pig!" + +But she went out pleased, nevertheless, and spread a bed of yellow +straw in readiness for her expected "company." + +"I wonder who is wanting to sell a pig now," she soliloquised. "I +daresay Mishteer saw an old 'bare bones' passing that nobody else would +buy, and is going to take pity on him." + +"Poor old Ebben Owens. 'Twill be hard for him to-day," thought the +vicar, as he made his way to the pig market, and in another moment he +was gladdening the heart of the lonely old man by his kindly greeting. + +"Well, well, Mr. Price, sir! Is it you indeed so early in the market?" + +"Yes, I have come to buy a pig," said the vicar, holding out his hand. + +Embarrassment and shame suffused Ebben Owens's face with a burning +glow, and he hesitated to place his own hand in the vicar's. + +"Have you heard about me, sir?" he asked, + +"I have heard everything," answered the vicar, grasping the timid hand +and pressing it warmly. + +"And yet you shake hands with me, sir? Well, indeed." + +"Yes, with more respect than I have ever done before. Not condoning +your sin, remember that, Ebben Owens; but honouring you for having the +courage to confess it. That is sufficient proof of your repentance." + +There were tears in the old man's eyes as he tried to answer; but Mr. +Price, seeing his emotion, hastened to change the subject. + +"Now let us see the pigs," he said, holding out his snuff box, from +which Ebben Owens helped himself with more cheerfulness than he had +felt since the meeting at which he had made his confession. + +They bent over the pen in conclave, during which the vicar exhibited +such lamentable ignorance of the points of a pig that, had it not been +for his previous kindness, he would have fallen considerably in the old +farmer's estimation. + +"This is the fattest," he said, prodding one with his stick, and trying +to look like a connoisseur. + +"Oh! he's too fat for you, sir; this is the one that would look well on +your table." + +"Poor thing," said the vicar, a shadow falling on his face, as he +realised that there would come a morning when the air would be rent +with shrieks, and he would wish himself in the next parish. "No doubt, +you're right, you're right, he looks a nice little pig; there's a nice +curl in his tail, and I like his ears; he'll do very nicely. And +here's Dyc 'pigstye.' Well, Dyc, how are you? Will you drive the pig +home to my yard, and tell Jinny to give him a good meal, and a glass of +beer for you, Dyc. And now we have settled that matter," he said, +turning to the farmer with a business-like air, "I want you to come +home with me, Owens, I won't keep you long, just that you may see a +very nice letter I have had from your brother, Dr. Owen; 'tis all about +your son and his bride, and the home they are coming to." + +"But, Mr. Price, sir, you haven't asked the price of the pig," said the +farmer, with a gasp. + +"Bless me! no!" said the vicar, "I quite forgot that," and he laughed +heartily at his own want of thought. "But I'm sure it won't be much. +Two or three pounds, I suppose!" + +"Two pounds I thought of getting for this one, and two pound ten for +the other." + +"Very cheap, too," said the vicar, drawing out the two sovereigns from +his waistcoat pocket. + +Leaving the pen in charge of a friend, Ebben Owens accompanied Mr. +Price in a state of joyful bewilderment. To walk up the street, in +friendly converse with the vicar, he felt would do more than anything +else to reinstate him in the good opinion of his neighbours, and as +they passed through the crowded market in animated and confidential +conversation, the hard verdict which many a man had passed on his +conduct was changed into one of pitying sympathy. + +"Well," they thought, "the vicar has forgiven him, whatever, and he is +a good man." + +Sitting in the vicarage dining-room, listening to the praises of his +beloved son, Ebben Owens became less depressed, and felt braver to meet +the consequences of his confession. + +Although he never discovered that the purchase of the pig was but a +blind of the vicar's to hide his plans for helping him to regain, in +some degree, the respect of his neighbours, Ebben Owens never forgot +the strengthening sympathy held out to him on that much dreaded +morning, and Price the vicar became to him ever after, the exemplar of +all Christian graces. + +"There's a man now," he would say, rubbing his knees as he sat under +the big chimney at home; "there's a man now, is fit to help you in this +world, and to guide you to the next; and there's the truth! But he +does not know much about pigs." + +The prospect of seeing Will once more in his old home shed a radiance +over everything, and in spite of the humiliation and contrition which +overshadowed him, a new-born calmness and peace gradually filled his +heart. + +To Morva too had come a season of content and joy--why, she could not +tell, for she was not free from anxiety concerning Sara's prolonged +absence. Certainly the longing for Gethin's return increased every +day, but in spite of this, life seemed to hold for her a cup brimming +over with happiness. Going home through the gloaming one evening, +singing the refrain of her milking song, she broke off suddenly and +began to run towards the cottage, for lo! against the brown hill across +the valley she saw the blue smoke rise from Sara's thatched chimney, +and in another moment a patch of scarlet showed bright against the +golden furze. + +"Mother anwl! Dear mother! you have come!" + +And she was folded in the tender loving arms. + +"My little daughter! I have missed thee!" said Sara, and together they +entered the cottage. + +Supper was on the table, and the crock of porridge hung over the +blazing furze fire on the hearth. + +"They called me into Penlau," said Sara, "as I passed through the yard, +and made me bring this oatmeal, 'for thee'lt want something quick for +thy supper,' they said; and there's asking questions they were about +what I had seen in Cardiff. Let us have our bwdran, child, for oh! I +am tired of the white bread, and the meat, and the puddings they have +in the towns. Kitty Jones was very kind, making all sorts of dainties +for me, but 'tis bwdran and porridge and cawl and bacon is the fittest +food for human beings after all, and the nicest." + +"Oh, mother, tell me what you have seen?" + +"My little girl, 'twill take many days to tell thee all. Ladies in +silks and satins--carriages and horses sparkling in the sun--men +playing such beautiful music through shining brass horns--little +children dressed up like the dolls you see at the fairs--fruit of every +kind--grand houses and gay streets--but oh, Morva, nothing like the +moor when the gorse and heather are in blossom, nothing like the sea +and the rocks and the beautiful sky at night when the stars are +shining; you couldn't see it, Morva, because of the lamps and the +smoke." + +"And the moon, mother, did you see her there?" + +"Well, yes, indeed, she was there, but she was not looking so clear and +so silvery as she is here. No, no, Morva, I thank God I have lived on +the moor, and I pray Him to let me die here." + +Morva was longing to ask whether success had crowned her mother's +mysterious journey, but refrained from doing so with a nervous shyness +which did not generally mark her intercourse with Sara. + +"'Twas a long journey; mother; are you glad you took it?" + +"Why, yes, child, of course, since I've gained my object. Gethin Owens +will be home before long." + +A crimson tide of joy rushed up into Morva's face, and an embarrassment +which she turned away to hide, but which was not lost upon Sara. + +"Well, indeed, then," said the girl, "there's glad 'n'wncwl Ebben will +be. Will I go and tell him when I have finished my bwdran?" + +"No, no, better not tell him anything till Gethin arrives. Lads are so +odd; he may not come for a week, and that would seem long waiting to +his father." + +It was long waiting for Morva too, but she hid the secret in her heart, +and flooded the moor with happy songs. + +On the following Sunday evening a special Sciet was held in the gaunt +grey chapel in the valley; an event of small importance to the outside +world, but to Ebben Owens and every member of his family one of +momentous interest. To them every event of life was brightened or +shaded by its connection with their religious life, and Penmorien +Chapel was almost as sacred in their eyes as the Temple of old was to +the Jews. + +The members dropping in one by one from moor, or village, or shore, +looked with sympathising curiosity as the Garthowen family entered, and +took their places in the corner pew, Ebben Owens sitting with them, and +for the first time for many years vacating his place amongst the +deacons in the square seat under the pulpit. + +A formal admission of sin is of frequent occurrence at an "experience +meeting," but the real confession of a sinful action is very rare. +Therefore the Garthowen family required strong moral courage to enable +them to pass through the trying ordeal of the Sciet, and its fiat of +excommunication, with dignified firmness. + +The doors were closed, the soft sea wind blew up the valley, and the +breaking of the waves on the shore below was distinctly audible. + +Sara and Morva did not attend the Sciet, but shut themselves up in +their cottage, cowering over the fire as if it had been winter. Sara +particularly, appeared to suffer acutely as the evening hours passed on. + +"There's the sun going, mother, 'tis seven o'clock, the Sciet is over. +Will I go and meet them? Oh! mother, I long to comfort 'n'wncwl Ebben." + +"No, child, leave him alone to-night; he has better help than thou +canst give him. To-night he will feel God's presence as he has never +felt it before, and what else will he want, Morva? Come and read our +chapter, 'merch i." + +And while they read by the light of their tiny candle, and the furze +crackled and sparkled up the open chimney, a bronzed and stalwart man +was tramping down the stony road towards the chapel. Looking down the +narrow valley, he saw the broad grey sea, its ripples tipped with the +crimson of the setting sun. To the left towered the high cliffs which +closed in the valley, and on the right stretched away the furze-covered +slopes leading to Garthowen and the moor, and the rough sailor heart +throbbed with the happiness of home-coming and the re-awakening of long +deferred hopes. His brown face lighted up with pleasure, as he waved +his hand towards the sunlit side of the scene, but he turned his face +and his footsteps into the grey shadowed court-yard of the chapel. It +was Gethin! He had sailed into Caer-Madoc harbour in the afternoon, +the ships being the only things considered free to come and go during +the Sabbath hours. He had met an Abersethin man in the town, who had +promised to bring his luggage home in his cart next day, and had +supplemented the promise by the information that on this particular +evening, Ebben Owens would be turned out from the Penmorien Sciet. + +"Jar-i! it's time for me to start, then," said Gethin; "will I be there +in time, d'ye think?" + +"Yes, if you walk sharp; but what will you do? You can't stop them +turning him out! There's a pity!" + +"No, no," said Gethin, "that's all right, I suppose; but I want to be +there to meet the old man at the door. He'll find he's got one son +that'll stick to him, whatever. God bless him!" and he started bravely +along the old familiar road. + +There were lights in the chapel windows as he approached, and outside +the closed doors one solitary friend already waited. It was Tudor, who +had sat there during the service, his eyes fixed on the blank closed +door, doggedly resisting the inviting barks of a collie who had caught +sight of him from the opposite hill. But when his long absent friend +appeared on the scene his self-restraint was thrown to the winds, and +Gethin in vain tried to check the joyous barks which accompanied his +frantic gambols of greeting. + +"Art come to guard the poor old man, lad?" whispered Gethin, holding up +a reproving finger. + +"Yes," said Tudor, as plainly as bark could speak. + +"Then hush-sh-sh," said Gethin, pointing to the closed door, and Tudor +smothered his barks. + +The murmur of voices inside the chapel was distinctly audible, blending +with the soft murmur of the sea. In a few moments the doors were +opened, and the congregation filed out with a more than usually solemn +look in their faces; some of the women dried their eyes, and actually +refrained from even a whispered remark until they had got fairly +outside the "cwrt." + +Gethin kept out of sight until he saw his father leave the chapel, +followed closely by Ann and Gwilym. The bent head and subdued +appearance of the old man went straight to the sailor's warm, impulsive +heart. With a single step he was at his father's side, taking his arm +and linking it in his own. + +"Who is it?" said Ebben Owens, his eyes blinded by tears and the +darkening twilight. + +"Gethin it is, father bach! come home to ask your forgiveness for all +his foolish ways, and to stick to you and to old Garthowen for ever and +ever." + +"Is it Gethin?" asked the old man, in a tone of awed astonishment; "is +it Gethin indeed? Then God has forgiven me. I said to myself: 'When I +see my boy Gethin at home again, then will I believe that God has +forgiven me.' Now I will be happy though I'm turned out of the Sciet. +God will not turn me out of heaven, now that Gethin my son has forgiven +me. Hast heard all my bad ways, lad?" + +"Yes," said Gethin, "and I will confess, father, it nearly broke my +heart. It made me feel there was no good in the world, if my old +father was not good. But when I heard how brave you were in telling +the whole world how you had fallen, and how you repented, my heart was +leaping for joy. 'Now there's a man,' says I to myself, 'a man worth +calling my father!' Any man may fall before temptation, but 'tisn't +every man is brave enough to confess his sins before the world!" + +Arm was already hanging on her brother's arm and pressing it +occasionally to her side. + +"Oh, Gethin!" she said, "Garthowen has been sad and sorrowful, but +to-night it seems as if you had brought back all the sunshine. There's +happy we'll be now." + +"'Tisn't my doing," said her brother, "'tis Sara Lloyd who has done it +all. God bless her! She came all the way to Cardiff to fetch me home. +And where is she to-night? I thought she and Morva would surely be at +chapel." + +"She has kept away for my sake, I think," said his father. "They call +her Sara ''spridion,' and they mean no good by it, but I think 'tis a +good name for her, whatever, for I believe the good spirits are always +around her, helping her and blessing her just as she is always helping +and blessing everybody around her." + +"To be sure they are," said Gethin; "I always knew it from a little +boy. Whether living or dying 'twould be well to be in Sara's shoes!" + +When they reached the old farmyard, and passed under the elder tree +where the fowls and turkeys were already roosting in rows on the +branches, little Gwil bounded out to meet them, Gwilym Morris at the +same moment caught them up from behind, and Ebben Owens felt that his +cup of earthly happiness was refilled almost to overflowing. Gethin +alone missed Morva. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A DANCE ON THE CLIFFS + +On the following morning Gethin was up with the dawn, and so was every +one else at Garthowen, for the day seemed one of re-birth and renewal +of the promise of life to all. Leading his son from cowhouse to barn, +from barn to stable, Ebben Owens dilated with newly-awakened pleasure +upon the romance of Will's marriage, and on his coming visit with his +bride to his old home, Gethin listening with untiring patience, as he +followed his father from place to place. The new harrow and pigstye +were inspected, the two new cows and Malen's foal were interviewed, and +then came Gethin's hour of triumph, when with pardonable pride he +informed his father of his own savings, and of the legacy which had so +unexpectedly increased his store; also of his plans for the future +improvement of the farm. Ebben Owens sat down on the wheel-barrow on +purpose to rub his knees, and Gethin's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but +he looked round in vain for Morva. Some new-born shyness had +overwhelmed her to-day; she could not make up her mind to meet Gethin. +She had longed for the meeting so much, and now that it was within her +reach, she put the joy away from her, with the nervous indecision of a +child. + +"Have the cows been milked?" asked Gethin, casting his eyes again over +the farmyard. + +"Oh, yes," said Magw, "while you were in the barn, Morva helped me, and +ran home directly; she said her mother wanted her." + +All the morning she was absent, and nobody noticed it except Gethin, +and Gwilym Morris, who, with his calm, observant eyes, had long +discovered the secret of their love for each other. An amused smile +hovered round his lips as, later in the forenoon, he entered the best +kitchen bringing Gethin with him from the breezy hillside. Morva was +tying Gwil's cap on when they entered, and could no longer avoid the +meeting; but if Gwilym had expected a rapturous greeting, he was +disappointed; for no shy schoolboy and girl ever met in a more +undemonstrative manner than did these two, who for so long had hungered +for each other's presence. + +"Hello, Morva! How art, lass, this long time?" said Gethin, taking her +hand in his big brown palm in an awkward, shame-faced manner, and +dropping it at once as if it had scorched him. + +"Well, indeed, Gethin. How art thou? There's glad we are to see thee. +Stand still, Gwil," and she stooped to unfasten the knot which she had +just tied. + +Apparently there was nothing more to be said, and Gwilym saw with +amusement how all day long they avoided each other, or met with feigned +indifference. + +"Ah, well," he thought, "'tis too much happiness for them to grasp at +once. How well I remember when Ann and I, though we sought for each +other continually, yet avoided each other like two shy fawns." + +In the evening, when the sun had set and given place to a soft round +moon, he was not at all astonished to find that Gethin was missing: nor +was he surprised, as he stood at the farm door, to see him rounding the +Cribserth and disappear on the moonlit moor. + +Reaching the broom bushes, Gethin waited in their shadows, recalling +every word and every look of Morva's on that well-remembered night, +when she had turned away from him so firmly, though so sorrowfully. +Waiting, he paced the greensward, sometimes stopping to toss a pebble +over the cliffs, and ever watching where on the grey moor a little +spark of light shone from Sara's window. + +Was he mistaken? Would she come to-night? Surely yes, for the broom +bushes grew close to the path to Garthowen, and over that path she was +constantly passing and repassing, whether in daylight or starlight or +moonlight. + +"'Tis very quiet here," he thought. "It makes me think of a night +watch at sea." + +The sea heaved gently down below, the waves breaking softly and +regularly on the beach. He heard the rustling of the grasses as they +trembled in the night breeze, the hoot of the owl in the ivied chimneys +of Garthowen, the distant barking of a dog, the tinkle of a chain on +some fishing boat rocking on the undulating waves; but no other sound +broke the silence of the night. + +"Jar-i! there's slow she is, if she's coming at all," said Gethin. +"Will I go and see how Sara is after her journey? 'Tis what I ought to +do, and no mistake, after all her kindness." + +And leaving the shadow of the bushes, he stepped out into the full +moonlight, only to meet Morva face to face. + +"Well, indeed, Gethin!" she exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting to see you +here so far from Garthowen." + +"No; nor I, lass," said Gethin, taking her hand, and continuing to hold +it. "I was so surprised to see thee out alone to-night; it gave me a +start. I was not expecting to see thee." + +"No, of course," said Morva, "and I wouldn't be here, only I was afraid +I had not fastened the new calf up safely and--and--" + +And they looked at each other and laughed. + +"Well, now, 'tis no use telling stories about it," said Gethin; "I will +confess, Morva, I came here to look for thee; but I can't expect thee +to say the same--or didst expect to see me, too, lass? Say yes, now, +da chi!" [1] + +Morva hung her head, but answered mischievously: + +"Well, if I did, I won't tell tales about myself, whatever; but, +indeed, I mustn't stop long. Mother will be waiting for me." + +"She will guess where thou art, and I cannot let thee go, lass. Dost +remember the last time we were here?" + +"Yes--yes, I remember." + +"Dost remember I told thee what I would say if I were Will? Wilt +listen to me now, lass, though I am only Gethin?" + +Is it needful to tell that she did stay long--that Sara did guess where +she was; and that there, in the moonlight, with the sea breeze +whispering its own love messages in their ears, the words were spoken +for which each had been thirsting ever since they had met there last? + + * * * * * * + +In the early sunrise of the next morning Ebben Owens, too, was crossing +the moor. He wanted to tell Sara of the happiness which his son's +return had brought him, and to thank her for her share in bringing it +to pass. He wanted, too, to tell her of the sorrow and repentance +which filled his heart, and the deep gratitude he felt for all she had +done for him. + +She was already in her garden attending to her bees. + +"Sara, woman," said the old man, standing straight before her with +outstretched hands. + +"Dear, dear, Ebben Owens, so early coming to see me! Sit thee down, +then, here in the sun," and she placed her hand in his, endeavouring to +draw him down beside her; but he resisted her gentle pressure and, +still standing, bent his head like a guilty child. + +"No, no," he said, with a tremble in his voice. "Tell me first, can'st +forgive me my shameful sin? Everybody is forgiving me too easy, much +too easy, I know. 'Tis only one will be always remembering, and that +is me." + +"I am not surprised at that, and I am glad to hear those words from +thee," said Sara, "but my forgiveness, Ebben bach, is as full and free +as I believe thy repentance is deep." + +And gradually the old man ceased to resist her gentle persuasions, and, +sitting down beside her, the bees humming round them, and the sun +rising higher and higher in the sky, they conversed together in that +perfect communion of soul which sometimes gilds the friendship of old +age. Together they had experienced the joys of youth, in middle age +both had tasted the bitterness of sorrow, and now in old age the calm +and peace of evening was beginning to shine upon one as it had long +shone upon the other. + +"I have never thanked thee," he said at last, "for all thy +loving-kindness to me; never in words, Sara, but I have felt it; and I +thank God that thou art living here so near me, where I can come +sometimes for refreshment of spirit, as my journey draws towards the +end, for I am a weak man, as thou knowest, and often stumble in my +path. Ever since that first mistake of my life I have suffered the +punishment of it, Sara, and thou hast reaped the golden blessing." + +"Yes," said Sara, looking dreamily over the garden hedge, "I have had +more than compensation, my cup is full and running over. No one can +understand how bright life is to me," and over her face there spread a +light and rapture which Ebben Owens gazed at with a kind of wondering +reverence. + + +"There's no doubt thou hast something within thee that few others +have," he said, with a shake of his head. + +Here Morva arrived from the milking, and finding them still sitting in +the sunshine in earnest conversation, held her finger up reprovingly, +and begged them to come in to breakfast. + +"Oh, stop, 'n'wncwl Ebben, and have breakfast with us. Uwd it is, and +fresh milk from Garthowen." + +"No, no, child," said the old man, rising. "Ann will be waiting for +me; I must go at once." + +"Well indeed, she was laying the breakfast. She doesn't want me +to-day, she says, so I am stopping at home with mother to weed the +garden." + +And as Ebben Owens trudged homewards, her happy voice followed him, +breaking clear on the morning air as she sang in the joy other heart: + + "Troodie! Troodie! come down from the mountain; + Troodie! Troodie! come up from the dale; + Moelen and Corwen, and Blodwen and Trodwen, + I'll meet you all with my milking-pail!" + +The echo of it brought a pleased smile to the old man's lips, as he +neared his home and left the clear singing behind him. + +The day had broadened to noontide, and had passed into late afternoon, +when Gethin Owens once more crept round the Cribserth. He crept, +because he heard the sound of Morva's voice, and he would come upon her +unawares--would see the sudden start, the shy surprise, the pink blush +rising to the temples; so he stole from the pathway and crept along +behind the broom bushes, watching through their interlacing branches +while Morva approached from the cottage, singing in sheer lightness of +heart, Tudor following with watchful eyes and waving tail, and a sober +demeanour, which was soon to be laid aside for one of boisterous +gambolling, for on the green sward Morva stopped, and with a bow to +Tudor picked up her blue skirt in the thumb and finger of each hand, +showing her little feet, which glanced in and out beneath her brick-red +petticoat. She was within two yards of Gethin, where he stood still as +a statue, scarcely breathing lest he should disturb the happy pair, his +eyes and his mouth alone showing the merriment and fun which were +brimming over in his heart. + +"Now, 'machgen i," said Morva, "what dost think of me?" and she +curtseyed again to Tudor, who did the same. "Dost like me? dost think +I am grand to-day? See the new bows on my shoes, see the new caddis on +my petticoat, and above all, Tudor, see my beautiful necklace! Come, +lad, let's have a dance, for Gethin's come home," and she began to +imitate as well as she could the dance which Gethin had executed, with +such fatal consequences to her heart, at the Garthowen cynos. Up and +down, round and across, with uplifted gown, Tudor following with +exuberant leaps and barks of delight, and catching at her flying skirts +at every opportunity. As she danced she sang with unerring ear and +precision, the tune that Reuben Davies had played in the dusty mill, +setting to it the words of one refrain, "Gethin's come home, bachgen! +Gethin's come home!" + +Little did she know that Gethin's delighted ears missed not a note nor +a word of her singing, or silence and dire confusion would have fallen +upon that light-hearted couple who pranked so merrily upon the green. + +But human nature has its limits, even of happy endurance; the +temptation to join that dance was irresistible, and Gethin, suddenly +succumbing to it, sprang out upon them. There was a little scream, a +bark, and a flutter, and Morva, clasped in Gethin's arms, was wildly +whirled in an impromptu dance, round and round the green sward, up and +down, and round again, until, breathless and panting, they stopped from +sheer exhaustion; and when Gethin at last led his laughing partner to +rest under the golden broom bushes, he cared not a whit that she chided +him with a reproving finger, for her voice was full of merriment and +joy. + +The sun was drawing near his setting, and still they sat and talked and +laughed together, Tudor stretched at their feet, and looking from one +to the other with an air of entire approval. + + + +[1] Do. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARTHOWEN*** + + +******* This file should be named 18778.txt or 18778.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/7/7/18778 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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