By berwen banks

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Title:ByBerwenBanks
Author:AllenRaine

ReleaseDate:July4,2006[eBook#18758]
Language:English
***STARTOFTHEPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKBYBERWEN
BANKS***
E-textpreparedbyAlHaines

BYBERWENBANKS
aNovel
by
ALLENRAINE


Authorof"AWelshSinger,""TornSails,"etc.
111THTHOUSAND

London
Hutchinson&Co.
PaternosterRow


CONTENTS

I.BERWENBANKSII.THEHOUSEONTHECLIFFIII.THE
SASSIWNIV.THESTORMV.GWYNNEELLISARRIVESVI.
CORWENANDVALMAIVII.THEVICAR'SSTORYVIII.THEOLD
REGISTERIX.REUBENSTREETX.THEWEBOFFATEXI.THE
"BLACKDOG"XII.ACLIMAXXIII."THEBABIES'CORNER"XIV.
UNRESTXV.THESISTERSXVI.DISPERSINGCLOUDSXVII.HOME
AGAINXVIII.THEVELVETWALKXIX.THEMEREDITHSXX.
GWLADYSXXI.INTOTHESUNSHINE


BYBERWENBANKS.
CHAPTERI.
BERWENBANKS.

CaerMadocisasleepylittleWelshtown,lyingtwomilesfromtheseacoast.Far
removedfromthebusycentresofcivilisation,wherethebattleoflifebreeds
keenwitsanddeepinterests,itisstill,intheopinionofitsinhabitants,nextto
London,themostimportantplaceintheUnitedKingdom.Ithasitschurchand
threechapels,itsmayorandcorporation,jail,townhall,andmarket-place;but,
moreespecially,ithasitsfairs,andawakestospasmodicjollityonsuch
occasions,whichcomeprettyoften—quitetentimesintheyear.Intheinterims
itresignsitselfcontentedlytoitsnormalstateoflethargy.
Thedayonwhichmystoryopenshadseenthebusiestandmerriestfairofthe
year,andtheeveningfoundthelittletownlookingjadedanddisreputableafter
itsfewhoursofdissipation,thedustyHighStreetbeinglitteredwithscrapsof
paper,orange-peel,andsuchlikedébris.Themerry-go-roundsandthe"shows"
haddeparted,thelastdonkey-carthadrattledoutofthetown,ladenwithempty
gingerbreadboxes.
InthestableoftheRedDragonthreemenstoopedinconclaveoverthehindfoot
ofahorse.Deio,theostler,andRoberts,thefarrier,agreedintheirverdictfora

wonder;andCaradocWynne,theownerofthehorse,straightenedhimselffrom
hisstoopingposturewithanodofdecision.
"Yes,it'squiteplainImustn'tridehimto-night,"hesaid."Well,I'llleavehim
underyourcare,Roberts,andwilleithercomeorsendforhimto-morrow."
"Needn'tdothat,sir,"saidRoberts,"forIamgoingmyselfto
AbersethinonFriday;thatwillgivehimoneday'scompleterest,and


I'llbringhimupgentlywithmynag."
"Thatwilldobetter,"saidtheyoungman."Takecareofhim,Deio,"headded,in
good,broadWelsh,"andIwillpayyouwellforyourtrouble,"and,withapaton
Captain'sflankandadouceurinDeio'sreadypalm,heturnedtoleavetheyard.
Lookingbackfromunderthearchwaywhichopenedintothestreet,witha
partinginjunctiontoRobertsto"takecareofhim,"heturnedupthedustyHigh
Street.
"Pagh!"hesaid,"ithasbeenajollyfair,butithasn'tsweetenedtheair.However,
Ishallsoonhaveleftitbehindme,"andhesteppedoutbrisklytowardsthe
stragglingendofthestreet,whichmergedintoawildmoorlandcountry.
"There'sadifferencebetweenhimandhisfather,"saidDeiotohiscompanion,as
theyledCaptainbacktohisstall."Seetheold'Vicaredu'huntingbetweenhis
coppersforathreepennybit!Jâriman!youwouldthinkitwasasovereignhe
waslookingfor."
"Yes,"saidRoberts,"theoldVicareisakeenmanenough,butjust;alwayspays
hisbillsregularly;heisnotasblackastheymakehimouttobe."
"No,Idaresay!Theysaythedevilisn't,either,"saidDeio.
Itwasveryevidentthepersoninquestionwasnofavouriteofhis.
MeanwhileCaradoc,orCardoashewascalledalloverthecountryside,the
"Vicaredu's"onlyson,hadbegunhistramphomewardswithalightheartanda
briskstep.Hewasatall,broad-shoulderedman,withhealthandyouthfulenergy
expressedineverylimbandfeature,withjetblackhairandsparklingeyesto

match.Hisdark,almostswarthyface,waslightedupbyapleasantsmile,which
seemedeverhoveringaboutthecornersofhismouth,andwhichwouldmake
itselfevidentinspiteofthemoustachewhichthreatenedtohideit.
Thebandofthelocalmilitiawaspractisingintheopenmarkethallashepassed,
andanoldWelshairstruckfamiliarlyonhisear.
"They'llwonderwhat'sbecomeofmeathome,"hethought,"orratherBetto
will.Idon'tsupposemyfatherwouldnoticemyabsence,solongasIwashome
tosupper.Poorolddad!"headded,andagravelookcameoverhisface.


Intruthitwasnotaverycheerfulhometowhichhewasreturning,butitwas
home,andhadbeenhisfromchildhood.Ithadbeenthehomealsoofhis
ancestorsforgenerations,which,toaWelshman,meansagreatdeal,fortheties
ofhomeareintheveryrootsofhisbeing.Homedrawshimfromthefurthermost
endsoftheearth,andleavingit,addsbitternesseventodeath.
Hismotherhaddiedathisbirth,sothatthesacredword"mother"hadnever
beenmorethananametohim,andhehadtaughthimselftobanishthethought
ofherfromhismind;infactanindescribableuneasinessalwaysleaptupwithin
hisheartwhenhernamewasmentioned,andthatwasveryrarely,forhisfather
neverspokeofher,andoldBetto,theheadservant,butseldom,andthenwith
suchevidentsadnessandreticence,thatanundefined,thoughnonetheless
crushingfear,hadhauntedhimfromchildhoodupwards.Ashesteppedoutso
bravelythissoftspringevening,thelookofdisquietudedidnotremainlongon
hisface.Attwenty-fourlifehasnotlostitsrosytints;heart,mind,andbodyare
freshandfreetotakeashareinallitsopeningscenes,moreespeciallyif,asin
Cardo'scase,love,thedisturber,hasnotyetputinanappearance.
Ashereachedthebrowofthehillbeyondthetown,thewhitedustyroad
stretchedlikeasinuoussnakeoverthemoorbeforehim,whileontheleft,the
sealaysoftandgreyinthetwilight,andthemoonrosefullandbrightonhis
right.Theeveningairwasverystill,butanoccasionalstrainofthebandhehad

leftbehindhimreachedhisears,andwithamusicalvoicehehummedtheold
Welshairwhichcamefitfullyonthebreeze:
"ByBerwen'sbanksmylovehathstrayed,
Formanyadayinsunandshade;
Andwhileshecarolsloudandclear,
Thelittlebirdsflydowntohear.
"ByBerwen'sbanksthestormrosehigh,
Theswollenriverrushingby!
Beneathitswavesmylovewasdrowned
Andonitsbanksmylovewasfound!"
Suddenlyhewasawareofacloakedfigurewalkingaboutahundredyardsin
frontofhim."Who'sthat,Iwonder?"hethought,andthen,forgettingits
existence,hecontinuedhissong:


"I'llne'erforgetthatleafyshade!
I'llne'erforgetthatwinsomemaid!
Buttherenomoreshecarolsfree,
SoBerwen'sbanksaresadtome!"
Byandby,atacurveintheroad,heagainnoticedthefigureinfrontofhim,and
quickenedhissteps;butitdidthesame,andthedistancebetweenthemwasnot
lessened,soCardogaveitup,andcontinuedhissong.Whenthestraincametoa
naturalending,helookedagainwithsomeinterestatthegreyfigureever
movingon,andstillseemingtokeepatthesamedistancefromhim.Oncemore
hequickenedhissteps,andagainthefiguredidlikewise."Diwssanwl!"hesaid.
"Iamnotgoingtorunafteranoldwomanwhoevidentlydoesnotwantmy
company."Andhetrampedsteadilyonunderthefastdarkeningsky.Forquite
threemileshehadfollowedthevanishingform,andashereachedthetopofthe
moor,hebegantofeelirritatedbythepersistentmannerinwhichhisfellowtravellerrefusedtoshortenthedistancebetweenthem.Itrousedwithinhimthe
spiritofresistance,andhecouldbeverydoggedsometimesinspiteofhiseasy

manner.Havingoncedetermined,therefore,tocomeupwiththemysterious
pedestrian,herapidlycoveredthegroundwithhislongstrides,andsoonfound
himselfabreastofaslimgirl,who,afterlookingshylyasideathim,continued
herwalkatthesamesteadypace.Thetwilighthaddarkenedmuchsincehehad
leftthetown,butthemoonlightshowedhimthegracefulposeofthehead,the
light,springytread,andthemassofgoldenhairwhichescapedfromthered
hoodcoveringherhead.Cardotookoffhiscap.
"Good-nighttoyou,"hesaid."IhopeIhavenotfrightenedyoubyso
persistentlytryingtocatchyou."
"Good-night,"saidthegirl."Yes,indeed,youhave,whatever,becauseIamnot
usedtobeoutinthenight.Therabbitshavefrightenedmetoo,theyarelooking
solargeinthislight."
"Iamsorry.ItisverybraveofyoutowalkallthewayfromCaer
Madocalone."
"ToAbersethinitisnotsofar,"saidthegirl.
"DoyouliveatAbersethin?"


"Yes,notfaroff;roundtheedgeofthecliffs,underMoelHiraethog."
"Oh!Iknow,"saidCardo;"themillinthevalley?"
"No,roundthenextshore,anduptothetopofthecliffisourhouse."
"TraethBerwen?ThatiswhereIlive!"
"Well,indeed!"
"Yes,IamCaradocWynne,andIliveatBrynderyn."
"Oh!areyouCardoWynne?Ihaveheardplentyaboutyou,andaboutyour
father,the'Vicaredu.'"
"Ah!poorolddad!Idaresayyouhavenotheardmuchgoodofhim;thepeople
donotunderstandhim."
"Well,indeed,theworstIhaveheardofhimisthatheisnotverykindtoyou;
thatheismakingyoutoworkonthefarm,whenyououghttobeagentleman."

"Thatisnottrue,"saidCardo,flushinginthedarkness;"itismywishtobea
farmer;Ilikeitbetterthananyotherwork;itismyownfreechoice.Besides,
canInotbeafarmerandagentlemantoo?WherecouldIbesohappyashereat
home,wheremyancestorshavelivedforgenerations?"
"Ancestors?"saidthegirl;"whatisthat?"
"Oh!mygrandfatherandgreat-grandfather,andallthelongdeadofmyfamily."
"Yes,indeed,Isee.Ancestors,"sherepeated,withasortofschedulingtone,as
thoughmakingsureofthefreshinformation;"IdonotknowmuchEnglish,but
there'sgoodyouarespeakingit!CanyouspeakWelsh?"
"Ha!ha!ha!"laughedCardo,andhisvoicewoketheechoesfromMoel
Hiraethog,thehillwhichtheywerenearing,andwhichtheymustcompass
beforereachingthevalleyoftheBerwen."Ha!ha!ha!CanIspeakWelsh?Why,
IamWelshtothecore,Cymroglangloyw![1]Whatareyou?"
"Oh!Welsh,ofcourse.Youcanhearthatbymytalk."


"Indeedno,"saidCardo."IdidnotknowanyoneatTraethBerwencouldspeak
Englishaswellasyoudo."
Hewaslongingtofindoutwhohisfellow-travellerwas.Hesawinthedimlight
shewasslimandfair,andhadawealthofgoldenhair;hesawherdresswasgrey
andherhoodwasred.Somuchthemoonlightrevealed,butfurtherthanthishe
couldnotdiscover,andpolitenessforbadehisasking.Asifinanswertohis
thoughts,however,hernextwordsenlightenedhim.
"IamValmaiPowell,thenieceofEssecPowell,thepreacher."
Along,lowwhistleescapedfromtheyoungman'slips.
"ByJove!"hesaid.
Thegirlwassilent,butcouldhehaveseenthehotblushwhichspreadoverher
faceandneck,hewouldhaveknownthathehadrousedthequickWelshtemper.
Hewasunconsciousofit,however,andstrodeoninsilence,untiltheyreacheda
rough-built,moss-grownbridge,andheretheybothstoppedasifbymutual

consent.Leaningtheirelbowsonthemossystonewall,theylookeddowntothe
depthsbelow,wherethelittleriverBerwenbabbledandwhisperedonitswayto
thesea.
"There'sanicenoiseitismakingdownthere,"saidValmai."Butwhydoyousay
abadwordwhenItellyoumyuncle'sname?"
"Abadword?Inyourpresence?Notfortheworld!ButIcouldnothelpthinking
howshockedmyfatherandyourunclewouldbetoseeuswalkingtogether."
"Yes,Ithink,indeed,"saidthegirl,openingalittlebasketandspreadingits
contentsonthelowwall."See!"shesaid,inalmostchildishtones,andturning
herfacestraighttothemoonlight.
Cardosaw,ashelookeddownather,thatitwasabeautifulface.
"See!"shesaid,"gingerbreadthatIboughtinthatoldstreettheycall'The
Mwntroyd.'Hereisasilvership,andhereisagoldwatch,andagoldengirl.
Whichwillyouhave?"
"Well,indeed,Iamashungryasahunter,"saidCardo."Iwillhavethelassie,if


youaresureyouhaveenoughfortwo."
"Anwl!anwl!Ihavealambandasheepandsomelittlepigsinmybasket."And
sheproceededtospreadthemoutanddividethem;andtheycontinuedtochatas
theyatetheirgildedgingerbread.
"Supposeyouruncleandmyfatherknewwewerestandingonthesamebridge
andlookingatthesamemoon,"saidCardo,laughing.
"Andeatingthesamegingerbread,"addedValmai.
"Myword!Therewouldbewrath."
"Wrath?"saidthegirl,lookingthoughtfullyupinhercompanion'sface;"whatis
that?"
"Oh,somethingnoonecouldfeeltowardsyou.'Wrath'isanger."
"Myuncleisangrysometimeswithme,and—too—with—with—"
"Myfather,Isuppose?"saidCardo.

"Yes,indeed,"saidthegirl;"thatistrue,whatever.EveryWednesday
eveningattheprayer-meetingheisprayingforthe'Vicaredu,'and
BettotoldmelastweekthattheVicareisprayingformyuncleon
Tuesdayevenings."
"Oh,Lord!hasitcometothat?"saidCardo."ThenI'mafraidwecanneverhope
forpeacebetweenthem."
Theybothlaughed,andthegirl'sripplingtonesmingledmusicallyin
Cardo'searswiththegurgleoftheBerwen.
"Itisgettinglate,"shesaid,"wehadbettergoon;butImustsaygood-night
here,becauseitisdownbythesideoftheriverismywaytoDinas.Youwillbe
nearertokeepontheroadtillyoucrossthevalley."
"No,indeed,"saidtheyoungman,alreadypreparingtohelphiscompanionover
thestonestile."IwillgodownbytheBerwentoo."


"Anwl,"saidValmai,claspingherhands;"itwillbeamilefurtherforyou,
whatever."
"Amileisnothingonsuchanightasthis."
Anddowntothedepthsofthedarkunderwoodtheypassed,byasteep,narrow
path,downthroughthetangledbriersandbendingferns,untiltheyreachedthe
banksofthestream.Thepathwasbutlittledefined,andevidentlyseldom
trodden;thestreamgurgledandlispedunderthebrushwood;themoonlooked
downuponitandsparkledonitsripples;andasValmailedtheway,chattingin
herbrokenEnglish,astrangefeelingofhappycompanionshipawokeinCardo
Wynne'sheart.
Afterthreadingthenarrowpathwayforhalf-a-mileorso,theyreachedasudden
bendofthelittleriver,wherethevalleybroadenedoutsomewhat,untiltherewas
roomforagrassy,velvetmeadow,atthefurthercornerofwhichstoodtheruins
oftheoldparishchurch,latelydiscardedforthenewchapelofeasebuiltonthe
hillsideabovetheshore.

"Howblacktheruinslookinthatcorner,"saidCardo.
"Yes,andwhatisthatwhitethinginthewindow?"saidValmai,inafrightened
whisper,andshrinkingalittlenearertohercompanion.
"Onlyawhiteowl.Hereshecomessailingoutintothemoonlight."
"Well,indeed,soitis.Fromherewecanhearthesea,andatthebeginningofthe
shoreIshallbeturninguptoDinas."
"AndIsupposeImustturnintheoppositedirectiontogetto
Brynderyn,"saidCardo."Well,IhaveneverenjoyedawalkfromCaer
Madocsomuchbefore.Willtheybewaitingforyouathome,doyou
think?"
"Waitingforme?"laughedthegirl,andherlaughwasnotwithoutalittletraceof
bitterness;"whoistheretowaitforme?Noone,indeed,sincemymotheris
dead.Perhapsto-morrowmyunclemightsay,'WhereisValmai?Shehasnever
broughtmemybook.'Hereitis,though,"shecontinued,"safeunderthecrumbs
ofthegingerbread.IboughtitintheMwntroyd.'Tisafunnynamewhatever."


"Yes,arelicoftheoldFlemings,whosettledinCaerMadoclongago."
"Oh!Iwouldliketohearaboutthat!Willyoutellmeaboutitsometimeagain?"
"IndeedIwill,"saidCardoeagerly;"butwhenwillthatbe?Ihavebeen
wonderingalltheeveninghowitisIhaveneverseenyoubefore."
Theyhadnowreachedtheopenbeach,wheretheBerwen,afteritschequered
career,subsidedquietlythroughthesandandpebblesintothesea.
"Hereismypath,butIwilltellyou,"andwiththesoundofthegurglingriver,
andtheplashofthewavesinhisears,Cardolistenedtohersimplestory."You
couldn'tseememuchbefore,becauseonlysixweeksitissinceIamhere.
BeforethatIwaslivingfar,faraway.HaveyoueverheardofPatagonia?Well
then,myfatherwasamissionarythere,andhetookmeandmymotherwithhim
whenIwasonlyababy.SincethenIhavealwaysbeenlivingthere,tillthisyear
IcametoWales."

"Patagonia!"saidCardo."Sofaraway?Nowonderyoudroppeduponmeso
suddenly!Buthow,then,didyougrowupWelsh?"
Valmailaughedmerrily.
"GrowupWelsh?Well,indeed,Idon'tknowwhathaveIgrownup!Welsh,or
English,orSpanish,orPatagonian!Iammixedofthemall,Ithink.Wherewe
werelivingtherewasalargesettlementofWelshpeople,andmyfatherpreached
tothem.Buttherewere,too,agreatmanySpaniards,andmanySpanishgirls
weremyfriends,andmynursewasSpanish,soIlearnttospeakWelshand
Spanish;butEnglish,onlywhatIlearntfrommyfatherandfrombooks.Idon't
knowitquiteeasyyet,butIamcomingbettereverydayIthink.Myfatherand
motheraredead,bothofthem—onlyafewdaysbetweenthem.Anotherkind
missionary'swifebroughtmehome,andsincethenIamlivingwithmyuncle.
Heisquitekindwhenhenoticesme,butheisalwaysreading—readingtheold
booksabouttheDruids,andOwenGlendwr,andthoseoldtimes,andheis
forgettingthepresent;onlyImustnotgonearthechurchnorthechurchpeople,
thenheisquitekind."
"Howcurious!"saidCardo."Youhavealmostdescribedmyfatherandmy
home!Ithinkweoughttobefriendswithsomuchincommon."


"Yes,perhaps,"saidthegirl,lookingpensivelyouttosea,wherethesea-horses
weretossinguptheirwhitemanesinthemoonlight."Well,good-bye,"she
added,holdingoutherhand.
"Good-bye,"answeredCardo,takingtheprofferedhandinafirm,warmgrasp.
"Willwemeetagainsoon?"hesaid,droppingitreluctantly.
"No,Ithink,"saidValmai,asshebeganthesteeppathupthehill.
Cardostoodamomentlookingafterher,andassheturnedtolookback,he
calledout:
"Yes,Ihope."
Shewavedherhand,anddisappearedbehindabroombush.

"Valmai!Valmai!"hesaid,ashetrampedoffintheoppositedirection."Yes,she
isValmai!"[2]

[1]"ApureWelshman."AfavouriteexpressioninWales.
[2]"LikeMay."


CHAPTERII.
THEHOUSEONTHECLIFF.

TheRev.MeurigWynne,"yVicaredu,"or"theblackVicar,"ashewascalledby
thecountrypeople,inallusiontohisblackhairandeyes,andalsotohisblack
apparel,satinhismustystudy,ashehaddoneeveryeveningforthelasttwentyfiveyears,poringeverhisoldbooks,andoccasionallyjottingdownextracts
therefrom.Hewasabroad-shoulderedman,tallandstraight,aboutsixty-five
yearsofage.Hisclean-shavenfacewaswhiteasmarble,itscoldandlifeless
appearanceaccentuatedbyhisjet-blackhair,strongly-markedeyebrowsofthe
samedarkhue,andhisunusuallyblackeyes;hisnosewasslightlyaquiline,and
hismouthwellshaped,thoughwide;butthefirm-setlipsandbroadnostrils,
gavethewholefaceanexpressionofcoldnessandhardness.Infacthehada
peculiarlydouranddarklook,anditwasnowonderthatwhenhewalked
throughhisparishthelittlechildrenlefttheirgamesintheroad,andhurried
insidetheirgardengatesashepassed.
Hewasperfectlyconsciousofthis,anditpainedhim,thoughnooneguessedit
excepthisson,whofeltatenderpityforthemanwholedsoisolatedandsolitary
alife.
ThecauseofhiscoldreserveCardohadneverbeenabletodiscover;buthe
somehowconnecteditwithhismother'sname,andthereforeshrankfrom
inquiringintohisfather'spastlife,preferringtoletoldmemoriessleep,rather
thanhearanythingwhichmightbringsorrowandpainintohislife.
TheVicarwasevidentlyuneasy,ashelookeduplistening,withonethinfinger

markingtheplaceonthepagehewasreading.Cardowaslaterthanusual,and
notuntilhehadheardhisson'sfamiliarfirmstepandwhistledidhedroponce
moreintothedeepinterestofhisbook.
AsCardoapproachedthehousehesawthelightinhisfather'swindow,and


picturedtohimselfthecold,palefacebendingoverthemustybooks."Poorold
dad!"hemurmured.Somesonswouldhavetappedplayfullyatthewindow,but
Cardodidnot,heturnedroundthecornerofthehouse,passingbythefrontdoor,
whichwasclosed,anddidnotlookinviting,totheotherside,wheretheclatter
ofwoodenshoesandastreamoflightfromtheopendoorwaymadesomeshow
ofcheerfulness.AndtherewasBetto,hisoldnurseandhisfather'shousekeeper,
inloud,angrytones,reprovingtheshepherdboywhostoodleaningagainstthe
door-post.
"Hello!what'sthematter,Betto?"saidCardoinWelsh;"whatmischiefhas
Robinbeenuptonow?"
"Machgenbachi(mydearboy!),isthatyou?"saidBetto;"there'sglad
Iam!Youarelateto-night,andIwasbeginningtopuzzle."
"Hasmyfathermissedme?"
"Well,indeed,hehasn'tsaidanything,"saidBetto,huntingforthefrying-pan,
andbeginningtopreparethehamandeggsforsupper."Butwhere'sthatRobin?"
sheadded;"acloutortwowiththefrying-panwouldnothurthisaddlepate."
"Hehasbeenwise,andmadehimselfscarce;butwhathashedone,
Betto?"
"Whathashedone?thevillain!Well,youknowthesheeparegrazinginthe
churchyardthisweek,andthat'mwnki'iswatchingthemthere.Well—heseated
himselfyesterdayonatombstonewhenwewereinchurch,andwhit,whit,
whitted'MenofHarlech'onhisflute!andtheVicareprayingsobeautifulallthe
time,too!prayingagainstthewilesofthedevilandofEssecPowell!"
"EssecPowell!Whathashebeendoing?"

"Well,machgeni,youwillnotbelieve!theboldnessofthose'Methots'is
somethingbeyond!AndtheimpidenceofEssecPowell!Whatdoyouthink,
Caradoc?heisprayingforyourfather—outloud,mindyou!—intheprayermeetingeveryWednesdayevening!Butthere!themasterisbeforehandwith
him,forheisprayingforEssecPowellonTuesdays!"andshetossedthe
frizzlinghamandeggsonthedish."Cometosupper,myboy,"andCardo
followedhernothinglothintothegloomyparlour,lightedbyonehome-made
mouldcandle,forhewashungryinspiteoftheginger-bread.


"Ah,Caradoc!youhavecome,"saidtheVicar,asheenteredtheroompunctually
atthestrokeoften,"whatmadeyousolateto-night?"
"Well,"saidCardo,"whenDeio,'RedDragon,'ledCaptainoutofthestable,I
foundtheswellingonhisleghadrisenagain,soIlefthimwithRoberts,the
farrier.HewillbringhimhomeonFriday."
"Youhaveriddenhimtoosoonafterhissprain,asItoldyou,butyoungmen
alwaysknowbetterthantheirelders."
"Well,youwererightanywaythistime,father."
"Yes,"saidhisfather;"astheoldproverbsays,'Yrhênawyryrifancadebyg."
[1]
"Shouldn'twonderifitrainedto-morrow,thewindhasveeredtothesouth;it
willbebadforthe'Sassiwn,'won'tit?"saidCardo,afterapause.
"Thewhat?"saidtheVicar,lookingfullathisson.
"The'Sassiwn,'sir,astheycallit;theMethodistAssociation,youknow,tobe
heldherenextweek."
"Idon'twanttohearanythingaboutit;Itakenointerestinthesubject."
"Won'tyougothen,father?Therewillbethousandsofpeoplethere."
"No,sir,Iwillnotgo;neitherwillyou,Ihope,"answeredtheVicar,andpushing
hisplateaway,herose,andwalkedstifflyoutatthedoorandalongthestone
passageleadingtohisstudy.
Hissonlistenedtohisretreatingfootsteps.

"Asbigotedasever,poorfellow!"hesaid;"butwhatafoolIwastomentionthe
subject."Andhecontinuedhissupperinsilence.WhenBettocameintoclear
awayhehadflunghimselfdownonthehardhorse-hairsofa.Themouldcandle
lightedupbutasmallspaceinthelarge,coldroom;therewasnofireinthe
grate,nobooksorpaperslyingabout,tobeguilethetedioushourbefore
bedtime.Wasitanywonderthathisthoughtsshouldreverttotheearlierhoursof
theevening?thatheshouldhearagaininfancythesoftvoicethatsaid,"Iam


ValmaiPowell,"andthatheshouldpicturetohimselftheclusteringcurlsthat
escapedfromtheredhood?
Theoldhouse,withitslongpassagesandlargerooms,wasfullofthose
namelesssoundswhichfilltheairinthequietofnight.Heheardhisfather's
footstepsashepacedupanddowninhisstudy,heheardthetick-tackoftheold
clockonthestairs,thebureaucreaked,thecandlespluttered,buttherewasno
humanvoicetobreakthesilence,Withayawnherose,stretchinghislonglegs,
and,throwingbackhisbroadshoulders,madehiswayalongthedarkpassage
whichledintothekitchen,wherethefarmservantswereseatedatsupper.Betto
movedthebeehivechairintoacosycornerbesidethefirefortheyoungmaster,
themen-servantsalltuggedtheirforelocks,andthewomenrosetomakea
smilingbob-curtsey.
"Havesomecawl,[2]Ser!"saidBetto,selectingashiningblackbowlandspoon.
"Notto-night,afterallthatfriedham;butanothernightIwantnothingbetterfor
supper."
"Well,there'snothingwillbeatcawl,that'scertain,"saidEbben,thehead
servant,beginningwithlong-drawnnoisysupstoemptyhisownbowl.
"Finishedtheturnipsto-day?"askedCardo.
"Oh,yes,"saidEbben,withaslighttoneofreproofinhisvoice;"theworkgoes
onthoughyoumaynotbeathome,Ser.Iconsiderthereisnopieceoflandon
thisearth,no,noronanyotherearth,betterfarmedthanBrynderyn.Eh?"andhe

lookeddefiantlyatBetto,betweenwhomandhimselftherewasacontinualwar
ofwords.
"Well,Isupposeso,indeed,"saidBetto;"yousaysooftenenough,whatever,and
whatyousaymustberight."
Therewassuchaninsidiousmixtureofflatteryandsarcasminherwordsthat,
foramomentEbbenwasatalosswhattoanswer,soMalen,themilkmaid,took
theopportunityofchangingthesubject.
"There'stonsofbreadwillbebakedonMonday,"shesaid,"readyforthe
Sassiwn.Jini'bakkare'hastwosacksofflourtobake,andthere'ssevenother
womeninAbersethinwillbakethesamequantity."


"AtMorfa,"saidShanw,"theyhavekilledacowandasheep;andthetongues,
andfowls,andhamswillfilleveryovenintheparish."
Bettosniffedandtossedherheadscornfully."Theymaywellgivethembread
andmeat,"shesaid,"forIdon'tseewhatelsetheyhavetogivethem."
"Whatelse,indeed,"saidShanw,readyforthefrequentfray."Theywon'thave
yourhum-drumoldchurchfregot[3],perhaps,butyoucomeandsee,andhear
HughesBangor,PriceMerthyr,JonesWelshpool.Nothingtogivethem,indeed!
Why,PriceMerthyrwouldsendyouroldredvelvetcushionatchurchflyinginto
smithireensinfiveminutes.Haven'tIheardhim.Hebeginssoftandlow,likea
catpurringonthehearth,andthenhegetslouderandlouder,tillheendslikea
roaringlion.Andourownpreacher,EssecPowell,tobeginandfinishthe
meeting.There'sbusyValmaimustbe.MargedHughesistheretohelp,andshe
says—"
"Oh,bequiet,"saidBetto,"andgoalongwithyourValmai,andyourPrice
Merthyr,andyourhams,andlions,andthings.Achyfi!Idon'twanttohear
aboutsuchthingsinaclergyman'shouse."
"Valmaiisabeauty,whatever,"saidDye,theploughboy."Ikiwked[4]ather
overthehedgethismorningwhenshewasgoingtoCaerMadoc;she'saspretty

asanangel.Haveyoueverseenher,Ser?"
"Valmai,"saidCardo,prevaricating,"surelythatisanewnameinthis
neighbourhood?"
"Yes,sheisEssecPowell'sniececomehomefromoverthesea.Sheisan
orphan,andtheysaytheoldmaniskeepingherreadingandreadingtohimall
daytillsheisfairtired,poorthing."
"Well,itisgettinglate,"saidCardo,"good-night."Andhisrisingwasthesignal
forthemalltodisperse,themenservantsgoingtotheirbedsoverthehayloftor
stable;whilethewomen,leavingtheirwoodenshoesatthebottom,followed
eachotherwithsofttreadupthecreakingbackstairs.
InthestudytheVicarpouredoverhisbooks,ashetranslatedfromEnglishinto
Welshthepassageswhichinterestedhimmost.Hewas,likemanyofthe
inhabitantsoftheSouthWalescoast,adescendantoftheFlemings,whohad
longagosettledthere,andwhohaveleftsuchstrongandenduringmarksoftheir


presence.
TheirlanguagehaslonggivenplacetoasortofdoggerelEnglish,buttheyhave
neverlearnedtospeakthelanguageofthecountryexceptinsomeofthe
stragglingbordervillages.
Pembrokeshire,inparticular,retainsacompleteseparateness,sotospeak,from
therestofthecountry,andisoftencalled"LittleEnglandbeyondWales."Thusit
wasthattheEnglishlanguageseemedalwaysmorenaturaltoMeurigWynne
thantheWelsh.Hissermonswerealwaysthoughtoutinthatlanguage,andthen
translatedintothevernacular,andthis,perhaps,accountedinsomedegreefor
theirstiffnessandwantoflivinginterest.HisdescentfromtheFlemingshadthe
disadvantageofdrawingalineofdistinctionbetweenhimandhisparishioners,
andthusaddedtohisunpopularity.Inspiteofthis,Cardowasanimmense
favourite,hisfrankandgenialmanner—inheritedfromhismother,whowas
thoroughlyWelsh—makingitswayeasilytothewarmWelshhearts.Therewas

adeepwelloftenderness,almostofpity,withinhimforhiscoldsternfather,a
longingtobreakthroughhisreserve,ahankeringafterthelovingwaysofhome
life,whichhemissedthoughhehadneverknownthem.ThecoldFleminghad
verylittlepartinCardo'snature,and,withhisenthusiasticWelshsympathies,he
waswonttoregretanddisclaimhisconnectionwiththeseancientancestors.His
father'spedigree,however,madeitveryplainthattheGwynnesofBrynderyn
weredescendedfromGwayn,aFlemishwoolmerchantwhohadsettledtherein
thereignofHenryI.—thesesettlersbeingprotectedandencouragedbythe
Englishking,whofoundtheirpeaceable,industrioushabitsagreatcontrastto
theturbulenceandrestlessnessoftheWelshundertheirforeignyoke.Timehas
donebutlittletosoftenthedifferencebetweentheWelshandFlemish
characters;theyhaveneverreallyamalgamated,andtothisdaythedescendants
oftheFlemingsremainaseparatepeopleinlanguage,disposition,and
appearance.InPembrokeshire,Gower,andRadnorshire,wefindthemstill
flourishing,andforsomedistancealongthecoastnorthwardsfrom
Pembrokeshiretherearestillfamilies,andevenwholehamlets,descendedfrom
them,exhibitingtraitsofcharacterandpeculiaritiesofmannereasilydiscernible
toanobservanteye.
BeforetheVicarretiredtoresthetookdownfromashelfanold
Bible,fromwhichhereadachapter,and,closingthebook,kneltdown
topray.Asherosefromhisknees,thelastwordsonhislipswere,
"Caradoc,mybelovedson!"


Forthenextfewdaystheturnipsandmangoldsseemedevenmoreinteresting
thanusualtoCardoWynne.Hewasupwiththelark,andstridingfromfurrowto
furrowincompanywithDyeandEbben,returningtoahurriedbreakfast,and
outagainonthebreezyhillsidebeforethebluesmokehadbeguntocurlupfrom
thethatchedchimneyswhichmarkedtheclusterofcottagescalled"Abersethin."
Downthere,underthecliffs,thelittlevillageslumbered,therisingsunjust

beginningtotouchitswhitewashedwallswithgold,whileupabove,onthehigh
lands,the"Vicaredu's"fieldswerealreadybathedinthemorningsunlight.
AshecrossedfromridgetoridgeandfromfurrowtofurrowCardo'sthoughts
continuallyflewacrossthevalleytotheruggedhillontheotherside,andtothe
oldgreyhouseonthecliff—thehomeofEssecPowell,thepreacher.Invainhe
soughtforanysignofthegirlwhoseacquaintancehehadmadesounexpectedly,
andhewasalmosttemptedtobelievethatshewasnootherthanacreatureofhis
ownimagination,bornofthewitchingmoonlighthour,andabsorbedagaininto
thepassingshadowsofnight.Butcouldhehaveseenthroughthewallsofthat
oldgreyhouse,evennowatthatearlyhour,hewouldhaveunderstoodwhatkept
thepreacher'sniecesobusilyengagedthatneitherontheshorenoronthebanks
oftheBerwenwasthereasignofher.
InthecooldairyatDinas,andinandoutoftheramblingoldkitchen,shewas
busywithherpreparationsfortheguestswhowouldfillthehouseduringthe
Sassiwn.Shebustledabout,withMargedHughesinattendance,lookingvery
different,buteverybitascharming,inherneatfarmdressasshehadonhervisit
toCaerMadoc.Thesleevesofherpinkcottonjacket,pushedupabovethe
elbows,showedherwhite,dimpledarms;whileherblueskirtorpetticoatwas
shortenoughtorevealtheneatly-shodfeet,withtheirbowsofblackribbonon
theinstep.
Everyhouseintheneighbourhoodwasbusywithpreparationsofsomesort.At
thefarmhousesthewomenhadbeenengagedfordayswiththeircooking.Huge
jointsofbeefandham,boiledorbaked,stoodreadyinthecoolpantries;andin
thesmallestcottages,wheretherewasmorethanonebed,ithadbeenprepared
forsomeguest."John,mycousin,iscomingfrom'theWorks,'"[5]or"Mary,my
sister,willbehomewithherbaby."
Everywhereheartsandhandswerefullofwarmhospitality.Clergymenofthe
ChurchofEngland,thoughgenerallylookingaskanceatthechapelsandtheir

swarmingcongregations,now,carriedawaybytheenthusiasmofthepeople,
consentedtoattendthemeetings,secretlylookingforward,withtheWelshlove
oforatory,totheeloquentsermonsgenerallytobeheardonsuchoccasions.
Cardo,ruthlesslystridingthroughthedew-bespangledgossameroftheturnip
field,heardwithpleasurefromDyethattheadjoiningfield,whichslopeddown
tothevalley,hadbeenfixeduponfortheholdingoftheSassiwn.Ontheflatat
thebottomthecarpenterswerealreadyatworkatalargeplatform,uponwhich
thepreachersandmosthonouredguestsweretobeseated;whilethe
congregationwouldsitonthehillside,whichreacheduptotheVicar'sland.At
leastthreethousand,orevenfour,mightbeexpected.
AlldayCardolookedoverthevalleywithintenseinterest,andwhentheday's
workwasover,unabletorestrainhiscuriosityandimpatienceanylonger,he
determinedtotakeaclosersurveyoftheoldhouseonthehill,whichforso
manyyearshehadseenwithhisoutwardeyes,thoughhisinnerperceptionhad
nevertakenaccountofit.Atlast,crossingthebeach,hetookhiswayupthe
steeppaththatledtoDinas.Asheroundedalittleclumpofstuntedpinetreeshe
cameinsightofthehouse,grey,gaunt,andbare,notoldenoughtobe
picturesque,buttoooldtolookneatandcomfortable,onthatwind-swept,stormbeatencliff.Itsgreywalls,markedwithpatchesofdampandlichen,lookedlike
atear-stainedface,outofwhichthetwoupstairswindowsstaredlikemournful
eyes.Downstairs,inoneroom,therewasalittlesignofcomfortandadornment;
crimsoncurtainshungatthewindow,insidewhichafewflowersgrewinpots.
Keepingwellunderthehedgeofelderswhichsurroundedthecwrtorfront
garden,Cardopassedroundtotheside—thepineend,asitiscalledinWales—
andherealittlelatticewindowstoodopen.Itfacedthesouth,andawayfromthe
seaawhiterosetreehadventuredtostretchoutitsstragglingbranches.They
hadevidentlylatelybeendrawnbysomelovinghandtowardsthelittlewindow.
Amuslincurtainflutteredintheeveningbreeze,onwhichcamethesoundofa
voice.Cardoknewitatonce.ItwasValmaisingingatherwork,andhelonged
tobreakthroughtheelderbushesandcallherattention.Hewassonearthathe
couldevenhearthewordsofhersong,softlyastheyweresung.Shewas

interruptedbyaquerulousvoice.
"Valmai,"itsaidinWelsh,"haveyouwrittenthat?"
"Oh!longago,uncle.Iamwaitingforthenextline."


"Hereitisthen,child,andwellworthwaitingfor;"and,withoutstretchedarm
markingthecadenceofitsrhythm,hereadaloudfromabookofoldpoems.
"There'spoetryforyou,girl!There'sadescriptionofNature!Wherewillyou
findsuchrealpoetryamongstmodernbards?No,no!thebardsaredead,
Valmai!"
"Well,Idon'tknowmuchaboutit,uncle;butisn'titamodernbardwhowrites:
"'Comeandseethemistymountains
Intheirgreyandpurplesheen,
Whentheyblushtoseethesunrise
Likeamaidenofthirteen!'"
Thatseemsverypretty,whatever."
"Verypretty,"growledtheman'svoice,"verypretty;ofcourseitis—verypretty!
That'sjustit;butthat'sall,Valmai.Pwff!youhaveputmeoutwithyour
'blushingmaiden'andyour'purplesheen.'LetusshutupTaliesinandcometo
'DrychyPryfOesoedd.'Now,youbeginatthefifthchapter."
Therewasalittlesigh,whichCardohearddistinctly,andthenthesweetvoice
beganandcontinuedtoreaduntilthesunsanklowinthewest.
"It'sgettingtoodark,uncle.WillIgoandseeifthecakesaredone?"
"No,no!"saidtheoldman,"Gwenwilllookafterthecakes;youlightthe
candle,andcomeonwiththebook."
HowCardolongedtospringinthroughthelatticewindow,toflingtheoldbooks
away,andtodrawthereaderoutintothegoldandpurplesunset—outoverthe
breezycliffs,anddowntothegoldensands;butthestrongbondsof
circumstancesheldhimback.
Thecandlewaslighted,andnowhecouldseeintotheroom.OldEssecPowell

satbesidethetablewithonelegthrownovertheother,handsclasped,andchin
intheair,lostinthedeepinterestofthebookwhichhisniecewasreading.
"Helooksgoodfortwohourslonger,"thoughtCardo,ashesawtheoldman's
far-awaylook.


Therewasalittletoneofwearinessinhervoiceas,seatingherselfatthetableby
theopenwindow,Valmaidrewthecandlenearerandcontinuedtoread.
OutsideintheduskytwilightCardowasgazinghisfillatthefacewhichhad
hauntedhimeversincehehadseenitontheroadfromCaerMadoc.Yes,itwas
abeautifulface!evenmorelovelythanheimaginedittobeinthedimevening
light.Hetooknoteofthegoldenwavyhairgrowinglowonherbroad,white
forehead,herdarkereyebrowsthatremindedhimofthetwoarchesofabeautiful
bridge,underwhichgleamedtwoclearpools,reflectingtheblueoftheskyand
theglintofthesunshine,thestraight,well-formednose,thepensive,mobile
mouth,thecomplexionofapalepinkrose,andaddedtothistheindescribable
charmofgraceandmannerwhichspreadthroughherpersonality.
Theeveningshadowsdarkened,thesunsetglowfaded,andthemoonroseina
cloudlesssky.Thedistantsoundoftheregularplashofthewavesonthebeach
reachedCardo'sears.Hethoughtofthelongreachesofgoldensandlyingcool
andgreyinthemoonlight,andalltheromanticdreamsofyouthawokewithin
him.
WasitrightthatValmaishouldbebendingoveramustybookinadimly-lit
room?whileoutsidewerethevelvetturfofthecliffs,theplashingwaves,and
thesilvermoonlight.
Butthereadingstillwenton,thegentlevoicegrowingalittlewearyand
monotonous,andthewhiteeyelidsfallingalittleheavilyovertheblueeyes.
LongCardowatchedandgazed,andatlast,turningaway,hewalkedmoodily
home.Heknewhisfatherwouldexpecthimtosupperatteno'clockpunctually,
andhurriedhisstepsasheapproachedthehouse.Justintime,forBettowas

placingonthetableanappetisingsupperofcawlandbreadandbutter,whichthe
twomenweresoondiscussingsilently,fortheVicarwasmorepre-occupiedthan
usual,andCardo,too,wasbusywithhisownthoughts.
Suddenlytheformerspoke.
"Isthelongmeadowfinished?"hesaid.
"Yes;Dyeisasplendidfellowtowork,andEbbenandhetogethergetthrougha
gooddeal."


"To-morrowtheycanclearoutthebarn.Thenextdayisthemarketat
Llanilwyn;theymustgothereandbuyacowwhichJonesPantyrychisgoing
tosell.IhavetoldEbbenheisnottogivemorethan8poundsforher,andthatis
onepoundmorethansheisworth."
Cardowassilent.Toclearoutthebarnnextdaywaseasyenough,buttogetDye
andEbbentothemarketonthefollowingdaywouldbeimpossible.Itwasthe
openingoftheSassiwn,andheknewthatneitherofthemenwouldbeabsenton
thatoccasion,eventhoughdisobedienceshouldcostthemtheirplace.Theywere
bothMethodists,andithadgonehardwiththeVicarbeforehehadtakenthem
intohisservice;buttheexigenciesoffarmlifehadcompelledhimtodoso,as
therewasabsolutelynotoneyoungmanamongsthisowncongregation.
Todohimjustice,hehadforgottenforthemomentthatthemarketdayat
LlanilwynwouldalsobetheSassiwnday.
"Doyouremember,father,theSassiwnbeginsthedayafterto-morrow?"
"Ihadforgottenit,butIdon'tseewhatdifferencethatcanmaketomybuyinga
cow."
"ButEbbenandDyewillwanttobeatthemeetings."
Ashadowcrossedtheoldman'sface.Hemadenoanswer,butcontinuedtoeat
hissupperinsilence,andatlastrose,andwithashort"Good-night,Cardo,"
wentintohisstudy.Heknewaswellashissondidthatitwouldbeuselesstotry
andpersuadehisservantstobeabsentfromthemeetings,andtheknowledge

galledhimbitterly,toobitterlyforwords,sohewassilent;andCardo,knowing
hishumour,saidnothingtoDyeandEbbenofhisfather'swishes.
"Poorolddad!"hesighed,ashefinishedhissupper,"itishardforhimtoseehis
congregationdwindledawaytoamerehandful,whilethechapelsaroundhim
arccrowdedtooverflowing.ByJove!theremustbesomethingwrong
somewhere."
AsusualaftersupperhefollowedBettointotheoldkitchen,wheretheservants
wereassembledforsupper,andwhereShanwwasagainholdingforth,toher
owndelightandBetto'sdisgust,onthecominggloriesoftheSassiwn.
"To-morroweveningwillbethefirstmeeting."