{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39539/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39539","id":"gutenberg_39539","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39539","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Wales","Legends -- Wales","Tales -- Wales"],"text":"This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler\n\n                            [Picture: Snowdon]\n\n\n\n\n\n                                   THE\n                          CAMBRIAN SKETCH-BOOK.\n\n\n                            _TALES_, _SCENES_,\n                       _AND LEGENDS OF WILD WALES_.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                    BY\n                             R. RICE DAVIES.\n\n        _Author of_ \u201c_The Handy Book on Tax Laws_,\u201d \u201c_Havelock_,\u201d\n           \u201c_Essay on Recreation Grounds for Swansea_,\u201d _etc._\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                 London:\n                         SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO.\n\n                                 Swansea:\n                   THE CAMBRIAN WELSH AND ENGLISH BOOK\n                            PUBLISHING COMPANY\n\n\n\n\nTo the Right Honourable\nTHE LADY LLANOVER.\n\n\nMADAM,\n\nAmong the illustrious men and women of Cambria it would be difficult to\nselect one to whom this book could be so appropriately inscribed as your\nladyship.  You are, and ever have been, the warm and sincere friend of my\ncountry; you are profoundly versed in her historic, poetic, literary, and\nlegendary annals; you are a liberal and munificent contributor to almost\nevery great movement designed to promote the social and intellectual, the\nmoral and religious, welfare of the people of our ancient Principality;\nand you have attained a high and imperishable fame as a graceful and\neloquent writer.  In these pages your ladyship will find depicted scenes\nconnected with the past history of the land; tales of years that are\ngone, which roll before us with their dark or splendid deeds, and\nspecimens of the wild but graceful legends which have shed a poetic charm\nupon almost every nook and corner of Wales.  I cherish the hope that\ntheir perusal will afford your ladyship delight and pleasure, while their\ncontents, possibly, may help to increase your ladyship\u2019s interest in and\nattachment to the land you so much love.\n\n                                                              I am, Madam,\n                                                        Very respectfully,\n                                         Your ladyship\u2019s obedient Servant,\n                                                           R. RICE DAVIES.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe history of the Cambrian race is interesting not only to the\nantiquarian, but also to all real lovers of traditional and legendary\nlore.  It is a race which had its origin in the mythical age, in the far\nback and remote past, in that period of the world\u2019s history when\nintellectual and moral darkness covered the earth, and when gross\ndarkness, like a black pall, enveloped the minds of the people.  The\ncountry which this race originally occupied is simply a matter of\nconjecture\u2014an unascertained fact; while the period when the Cambrian\npeople first left their own native soil, the land of their love and their\nfondest affection, and wandered over hill and plain, over mountain and\ndismal swamp, through woods and primeval forests, wading through mighty\nfordable rivers, and crossing stormy seas, until they reached the pebbled\nstrand of this our sea-girt isle, is still a matter of uncertainty\u2014one of\nthe mysteries of this mysterious world.  That they occupied this island,\nand were in undisturbed possession of it many hundred years before the\nappearance in our world of Him who is the true Light of humanity, there\nexists abundance of evidence; and it is not unlikely, but on the contrary\nhighly probable, that sections of this ancient people were _then_\nengaged, as _now_, in developing the mineral wealth of the country.\n\nComing down to a later date, a less remote period, we have actual\ndescriptive accounts of the Welsh people, of their manners and customs,\ntheir habits and mode of life, their religious rites and form of worship;\nand considering the then state of the world, we are astonished at the\ncomparative high state of civilization to which this ancient race had at\nthat time attained.  But to trace the history of their civilization down\nthrough the ages is foreign to my present purpose, however tempting the\ntheme.  The object I had in view in preparing this work for the press,\nwas not to place before the reader a consecutive narrative, but to select\ntopics with a view to illustrate some of the traits of character of this\nancient, singular, and extremely interesting people\u2014a people who, in\nspite of oppression, injustice, and isolation, have nobly clung to the\nold faith; who have ever as citizens been loyal, patriotic, and virtuous;\nand who, moreover, in the face of very serious disadvantages, have\nobtained a position of intellectual and moral manhood, which cannot fail\nto inspire us with admiration and wonder.  Let me say here, that if this\nwork deepens the Welshman\u2019s love of country, and induces the English\nreader to regard us in a more favourable light than that adopted by a\nclass of Saxon critics, I shall consider I have not laboured in vain.\n\nAs regards the tales and sketches of this volume, they are not ideal\npictures of Cambrian life and character, but are for the most part\nfounded on fact.  For example, the ascent of Snowdon was undertaken\nalone, some ten years ago, and by the most difficult, tedious, and\nhazardous route.  I often wonder at my want of prudence in ascending from\nCapel Curig, that glorious old Alpine height, on a cold, dank, and misty\nautumnal morning, without a guide or a friendly hand to point the way.\nAlone I accomplished the journey, without experiencing much difficulty,\nor meeting a single mishap.  The story of Dunraven Castle is founded on a\nhistorical fact.  It is one of the most painful of the many painful\nincidents of those terrible times.  Parson Jones is not an ideal but a\nreal character painted from life.  His fame as a charmer, a conjuror, and\nmagician, was celebrated far and wide.  I well remember farmers\u2019 wives\nand others visiting him in order to secure his assistance in driving away\nevil spirits from their dwellings.  A wonderful man was Parson Jones!  An\nable divine, a true preacher of the cross, a lovable and childlike man\nwas he.  When his body was consigned to the tomb, the people felt that\nthey had lost one of their best earthly friends.  As to the legends of\nLake Savathan and Elidorus, they have been handed down in written\nhistory.  The tale of Cadwgan is a real picture of Cambrian life.  The\nstory of Saint Winifred is founded on an old Welsh legend.  A marvellous\nwork has recently been written by one of England\u2019s greatest novelists; it\nis not impossible that the idea of the \u201cComing Race\u201d had its origin in\nthe tale of Elidorus.\n\nIn this work I have avoided the literary paths trodden by previous\nCambrian authors: writers who, in their own sphere of literature, have\nleft behind them imperishable names.  I believe that the mine of wealth I\nhave endeavoured to explore is new, while virgin is the soil.  Deeply\ninteresting are the legends which have been handed down from a people,\nwho, alas! alas! no longer tread the sacred ground of wild Wales.  In the\nselection of topics, I have only discovered for the theme of my pen a few\nprecious gems, having culled here and there a few fair and fragrant\nflowers, thus leaving for future literary labours, many others of tints\nequally beautiful and sweets equally delicious.  Almost every dell and\nhamlet, every sylvan glade and mountain side of wild Wales abounds with\nlegends and tales, stories of real life which are too interesting to be\nlost, and too important in the lessons they afford to remain hid in the\nbosom of members of our ancient race.\n\nIt is possible that exception will be taken to the ideal\npictures\u2014creations of the author\u2019s fancy\u2014of the fairies and fairy land,\nwhich form rather a prominent feature of this work.  For introducing to\nthe reader the people of the fairy kingdom beneath the bay of Swansea, I\nhave no apology to make.  In the thoughts they breathe and in the\nopinions they express they are very human, while the land in which they\ndwell bears witness to the presence of the energizing power and infinite\nbenevolence of the Supreme.  From our childhood we have been accustomed\nto listen to the wonderful tales relating to Lilliputian races, in which\nthe narrators described their sayings and doings, their gambols and\nfrolics, their pranks and merry-making, their sweet music and dulcet\nnotes; and in our wanderings, we have often gazed on the green rings\nwherein they danced on mead and meadow.  And are we not ready to confess\nthat those fairy stories possessed a special charm\u2014an interest which even\nreality itself hardly awakens?  I am aware that belief in the existence\nof those a\u00ebrial forms, those ghostly, impalpable, and ambiguous beings,\nhas been regarded as an evidence of mental blindness, and the absence of\nhigh culture and civilization.  This charge cannot be maintained.  The\npeoples of all European nations believe in the existence of those\nwonderful people, and, personally, I should regret to see their faith\nundermined.  Fairies are associated with the spiritual and super-human;\nwith virtue and purity; thus they help us to look upward to the\nspirit-world, where flesh and blood, where materialism and its unhallowed\nfruits have not, and can never have, even a temporary lodgment.\n\nShould this work meet with the approval of my fellow-countrymen, I shall\nin the early part of next spring issue a second volume of the Cambrian\nSketch-Book.  I shall include in that volume: Sir Rice ap Thomas, a\nhistorical romance, already written; and The Lost Son Found, a tale of\nthe Lowland Hundred.  A beautiful country was Cantref-y-Gwaelod, where\nnow roll the waters of the Atlantic\u2014a magnificent plain with fortified\ncities, and co-extensive with Cardigan Bay.  Several other legends and\ntales of North and South Wales will also appear in the intended volume.\n\nIt now only remains for me to express my hearty thanks to Charles Bath,\nEsq., of Fynone, for his kindness in placing at my service a very old\nview of Swansea, a faithful transcript of which has been made by the\nartist for the present volume.  I make this public acknowledgment to our\ntownsman for the reason that he is always ready to aid all efforts having\nin view the publication and circulation of works relating to dear old\nCambria.\n\n                                                           R. RICE DAVIES.\n\n   SWANSEA, _July_, 1875.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n                                                                  PAGE\nASCENT OF SNOWDON                                                    3\nA STORY OF DUNRAVEN CASTLE IN THE OLDEN TIMES                       21\nPARSON JONES                                                        79\nCADWGAN WYNN                                                       121\nTRADITIONS OF LLYN SAVATHAN                                        227\nTREFFYNON; OR, LEGENDS OF SAINT WINIFRED                           243\nTHE VISIT OF ELIDORUS TO THE FAIRY KINGDOM BENEATH THE BAY         269\nCEFN-Y-BEDD                                                        319\n\n\n\n\nASCENT OF SNOWDON.\n\n\n    \u201cHow high and swift flits the thin rack along,\n    Skirted with rainbow dyes; now deep below\u2014\n    While the fierce sun strikes the illumined top,\n    Slow sails the gloomy storm, and all beneath,\n    By vaporous exhalation hid, is lost\n    In darkness: save at once where drifted mists,\n    Cut by strong gusts of eddying winds, expose\n    The transitory scene.\n    Now swift on either side the gathered clouds,\n    As by a sudden touch of magic, wide\n    Recede, and the fair face of heaven and earth\n    Appears.  Amid the vast horizon\u2019s stretch,\n    In restless gaze the eye of wonder darts\n    O\u2019er the expanse,\u2014mountains on mountains piled,\n    And winding bays and promontories huge,\n    And lakes and wandering rivers from their source\n    Traced to the distant ocean.\u201d\n\n                                                           BINGLEY\u2019S TOUR.\n\nIt was a bright and glorious August morning, in the year 18\u2014, when,\nhaving a few weeks\u2019 freedom from the busy toils of official labour, I\nresolved to have an \u201cout,\u201d as they call it in the north of England, where\nI then resided\u2014a brief tour of pleasure.  Never in these northern\nlatitudes had I witnessed a more lovely morning.  The sun shone brightly,\nand with a dazzling splendour only surpassed by the gorgeous brilliancy\nof an Eastern clime.  When we looked upwards, not a cloud could be seen\nin the concave hemisphere above.  Far, far away, the most distant objects\ncould be plainly and distinctly seen.  In the forest not a spray moved,\nnor was there a sweet kiss of the leaves on that breezeless morn.\nNeither on river nor lake could there be discerned a single ripple.\nEverywhere, except in the adjacent grove, did quietude and stillness\nreign.  There, however, the birds sent forth their merry and joyous\nnotes, and the tone of their voices, and the songs they sung, told of\njoys, and proclaimed the existence of happy feelings, which but few among\nthe sons of men are permitted to realize.  Oh, how calm and how still was\nthe scene around!  Indeed, all nature, except the winged songsters of the\ngrove, appeared to repose quietly and peacefully on the bosom of its God.\n\nA grand morning this, said I, for starting on an \u201cout;\u201d but the pressing\nquestion was, whither should I go.  During my brief preparation, I\nfancied I heard the voice of the eagle, and the voice said, \u201cCome to me.\nCome and behold the high mountain whereon I dwell, and the great rocks in\nwhich I build my nest.  Come and see, from my high elevation and Alpine\nheights, the magnificent lochs whose waters spread far and wide in the\nbroad and expansive valleys.  Oh, come, and behold the land of the brave\nand heroic Wallace.\u201d\n\nA moment before deciding whether or not I should accept the invitation of\nthe king of birds, there was wafted on the gentle breeze that had just\nsprung up, the voice of a little bird which inhabits the far west; and\nthe little bird said, \u201cCome and visit the land in which I dwell.  In this\nland you will behold some of the greatest wonders of the world.  Were you\nto visit the North or the South, the East or the West, the sunny\nfountains of Africa, the coral strands of India, or the icy regions of\nthe frigid zone, yet in no part of the wide world could you discover\nobjects so grand and majestic as our Giant\u2019s Causeway; while Killarney is\nunrivalled for sublime and beautiful scenery.\u201d  Well, little bird, said\nI, I love your nation; your people have warm hearts and generous\nsympathies.  Just, however, as I was about saying \u201caye\u201d to the invitation\nof the little bird of the Green Isle, there came from the south\u2014o\u2019er\nmoorland valley, o\u2019er mighty rivers and hills, o\u2019er cities, towns, and\nvillages, the charming and enchanting voice of the lark, and its tones\nwere so winning and so sweet, that I was almost moved to shed tears of\njoy.  But what was the purport of her song?  The burden of her song was\nCambria! the beautiful and the blest; the land of Poetry and the Ideal.\n\u201cCome,\u201d carolled the lark, \u201cand behold some of the beauties of Wild\nWales.  In no land are glades so verdant, are rocks so rugged and bold,\nare cwms and dells so exquisitely beautiful and lovely as are to be seen\nhere.  Nowhere but here can you behold hill after hill, and mountain\nafter mountain, rise above each other, presenting a picture so awfully\nwild, so grand, and so majestically sublime.  Besides,\u201d said the lark,\n\u201cthis is your own land.  It is the place of your birth.  It is the home\nof your father\u2019s sepulchre.  Oh! come here, for here are generous hearts,\nready to bid you welcome.  In the border land is many an old friend who\nwill rejoice and kill the fatted calf when he sees you approach his\ndwelling.\u201d  I could no longer resist the irresistible voice, and replied\nto her, Oh, sweet songster of the moorland, thither will I go, and\nto-morrow I will listen to your heavenly strains among your own hills.\n\nI need not describe the journey from the North to Conway, as it is\nfamiliar to most travellers.  Nor shall I refer to the beautiful Menai,\nor the magnificent ruins and historic renown of the good old town of\nCarnarvon.  Nor shall I refer, with a view to depict the scene, to many\nother deeply-interesting spots, some of which I could not but gaze upon\nwith feelings of profound reverence, the rather as they told the tales of\nother times, which rolled before me with their deeds.  As I looked upon\nand contemplated these scenes, I was deeply affected, while my vision was\ndimmed by the tears that welled up from my heart.  Moreover, as I still\ngazed upon the historic fields of blood and battle, I thought I saw the\nshadow of my country\u2019s martyrs and heroes passing before my eyes\u2014the\nshadows of the great and heroic men who, strong in the righteousness of\ntheir cause, fought for the liberty of our brave, courageous, and\nlion-hearted ancestors, and for the independence and the freedom of the\nland of my love and my sympathies.  Since the days of that long and\nsanguinary struggle, time and the disposition of men and nations have\nimmeasurably changed for the better.  Happily for us, we have now a ruler\nwho loves her subjects, whose sway is the very opposite of that despotic\ntyrant\u2019s rule, who loved to imbrue his hands in the blood of contemporary\nprinces.  Edward, however, has gone to his _place_.  Oh that his memory\nand his deeds of blood had perished with him!  As I looked upon the scene\naround Conway, and viewed it in relation to and in connection with the\ndark deeds of Edward, the following lines of the poet Gray came to my\nremembrance:\u2014\n\n    \u201cHark how each giant oak and desert cave\n      Sighs to the torrent\u2019s awful voice beneath!\n    O\u2019er thee, O King, their hundred arms they wave,\n      Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe,\n    Vocal no more.\u201d\n\nFrom Conway I proceeded to Llanrwst, thence to Bettws-y-Coed, which is\nsituated in a lovely verdant cwm, and is the most charming and the most\nexquisitely beautiful spot I have ever beheld.  I have seen many an\nenchanting scene, but Bettws-y-Coed is incomparably finer, and surpasses,\nboth in magnificent boldness and soft and quiet grandeur, any other\nlandscape upon which I have been permitted to gaze.  As night was rapidly\napproaching, and as I had arranged to ascend Snowdon the following\nmorning, I had to tear myself away from so enchanting a scene.  From\nthere I proceeded to the Swallow Falls, thence to Capel Curig, a village\nwhich affords some of the most picturesque landscapes which can be met\nwith in Wales.  Of this prospect it might be truly said:\u2014\n\n    \u201cHere hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,\n    Here earth and water seem to strive again;\n    Not, chaos-like, together crushed and bruised,\n    But, as the world, harmoniously confused.\u201d\n\nHowever, I lingered not to contemplate the scene, but proceeded on my\njourney towards Penygwryd, which I reached just as the great king of day\ndisappeared behind the Cambrian Alps.\n\nThe next morning, after partaking of an early breakfast of ham and eggs\nand coffee, I proceeded to the hotel lawn to see whether the day was\nfavourable for an ascent of Yr Wyddfa, the \u201cuwch y mynydd uchaf\u201d of\nEngland and Wales.  Since the previous day I regretted to find that the\nweather had undergone a complete change; the summit of Eryri was now\nenveloped in dark clouds, the morning was cold, and the air was dank and\nchilly.  The moaning of the wind in the great mountain gullies and cwms\nrendered the scene both awful and sublime.  Meeting mine host on the\nlawn, I inquired if I might venture to ascend Snowdon without the service\nof a guide.  He strongly dissuaded me from attempting an ascent alone, as\nit would necessarily be attended with great risk.  However, after\ndebating the matter some time, I resolved to carry out my original design\nof going unattended.  When I reached the summit I was delighted beyond\nmeasure at having accomplished the ascent, by the longest and most\ndifficult route, without the aid of a guide.  Having wished Mr. Owen a\nhearty farewell, I commenced the ascent of Snowdon.  Proceeding up the\nroad towards the Pass of Llanberis so far as Pen-y-Pass, I branched off\nto the left, and soon came to Llyn Teyrn, thence taking the trackless\nmountain above Cwm Dyli, direct towards Llyn Glaslyn; and thence by a\ncircuitous and difficult route, which a kind mountain miner showed me, to\nthe highest point of the Mother of Hills.\n\nAlthough I found this route laborious, I was amply recompensed by\nbeholding \u201cscenes of extraordinary wildness and grandeur, over which\nsolitude seemed to brood with undisturbed silence, scarcely ever broken\nby the wing of bird or the voice of melody.\u201d  In every direction\nprospects the most magnificent opened to view, and every crag and rock\nwhich I surmounted was furnished with objects of picturesque effect or\ndeep and absorbing interest.  From many a crag I looked down upon the\ncwms and deep dells beneath, and I fancied I could pick out here and\nthere the very dingles to which our heroic ancestors were compelled to\nresort for protection, when pursued by numberless hosts of the enemy\nafter they had sustained defeat.  In these cwms they were, however, safe.\nEven proud and haughty Edward dared not follow the Britons to their\nmountain fastnesses.  To them Snowdon had ever proved a kind and guardian\nangel: hence the reason why they fled thither in the hour of their\ndefeat.  No wonder, therefore, that they loved the old mountain deeply\nand passionately; and no wonder, too, that they composed songs to her\nhonour and renown.\n\nWhen I attained the summit of the mountain, the sight presented to my\nview was awfully and majestically wild and grand.  The whole circuit of\nthe Snowdonian range was enveloped in a thick and dark mist, which was so\ndense that I fancied I could cut it with the finest edged tool.  The\nhowling of the winds in the cwms and dingles which run down the mountain\non every side was really appalling.  Indeed, the prospect was horrible to\ncontemplate.  It gave an idea, says a writer on the subject, of numbers\nof abysses concealed by a thick smoke furiously circulating around us.\nNow and then, however, a strong gust of wind created an opening in the\nmist, which, for a moment, gave me a magnificent prospect of sea and\nlake, of deep chasms, and high and lofty mountains, of almost fathomless\ndingles and ravines; while towns and hamlets appeared in the distance\nlike small specks on the surface of the earth.  But the prospect was only\nmomentary.  The clouds of mist which were rent asunder by the strong\ncurrent of wind would, in the twinkling of an eye, again form and unite,\nand thus present a compact and complete whole, leaving me involved in a\ndarkness that might be felt.  In a minute it would again separate into a\nthousand parts, and fly in wild eddies up the gullies and dingles, thus\naffording me another opportunity of seeing the Isle of Mona, the mountain\nof Plynlimmon, Hell\u2019s Mouth, the Iraeth Bach, and that magnificent bay\nwhich once formed the rich and fertile plain of Cantref-y-Gwaelod, with\nits sixteen fortified cities and towns, whose inhabitants met with a\nwatery grave through the drunkenness of Seithenyn, who is styled in the\n\u201cTriads\u201d as one of the three notorious drunkards of the isle of Britain.\nContemplating the scene so strange, yet so grand, the following lines of\nthe poet Rogers struck me as extremely applicable to my then situation:\u2014\n\n                                              \u201cThe morning air\n    Plays on my cheek, how gently, flinging round\n    A silvery gleam; and now the purple mists\n    Rise like a curtain; now the sun looks out,\n    Filling, o\u2019erflowing with his glorious light,\n    This noble amphitheatre of hills.\u201d\n\nAfter spending nearly two hours on the summit in gazing upon the wild,\nyet the grand and majestic scene presented to my view, I felt, as I had\nto walk to Pont Aberglaslyn, and back to Penygwryd, a distance of nearly\ntwenty miles, that I dare not delay my departure longer; hence I made\ninstant preparation to descend.  I, however, left this Alpine top, and\nbade farewell to old Snowdon, with feelings of deep sorrow and poignant\ngrief.  On leaving this most prominent historic spot in the past history\nof my country, I could not but enter into the deep feeling of reverence\nwith which my forefathers regarded this mountain and its adjacent hills,\nvalleys, and plains.  Thought I to myself, was it a wonder that they\nalmost worshipped Yr Wyddfa?  Indeed they had every reason for paying\nhonour and homage to it.  To them it had ever been a never-failing\nfriend\u2014a sure and safe retreat when they suffered and sustained defeat in\nbattle.  To them it afforded a rich and never-failing refuge, in which\nthey lodged the young and the feeble and the non-combatants when they\nwent forth to fight the common foe\u2014the implacable enemies of their dear\nfatherland\u2014foes and enemies, too, who were strangers to generosity, but\nwho loved conquest for the sake of conquest, and who were alike\nindifferent to the sacrifice of human blood as they were to English\ntreasures.  When they followed our brave and heroic countrymen into the\nmountain fastnesses of Snowdon, they generally suffered terrible\nslaughter, and repented having left those fortresses and plains where\nthey so much loved to dwell.  Considering the many and the terrible\ndisasters which befell their marches in its fastnesses, no wonder they\npreferred residing at some distance removed from so impregnable a refuge.\nTo the Welsh warriors it had been a natural guardian angel: hence the\nreason why they loved it so deeply, so ardently, and with the whole\npassion of the soul.\n\nAfter I had descended some distance towards Beddgelert, I turned in order\nto take a parting farewell-look of this the mother of Cambrian mountains;\nand in viewing its high and lofty summit, now almost wholly enveloped in\nmist, I was forcibly struck with the wild, dreary, and boundless scene.\nFrom the point on which I stood this ancient hill appeared to be\nuntrodden by human foot, and tenanted only by wandering sheep and goats,\nexcept the hoarse-croaking ravens.  It was, indeed, sublime to stand, as\nI stood then, on that spot, and commune with solitude around\u2014to gaze upon\nSnowdon and her manifold adjacent hills, slumbering calmly beneath me.\nWith me there was no form, no human being, no living thing; but I\nrejoiced that there, amid this stupendous scene, I could commune freely\nand uninterruptedly with nature and nature\u2019s God, and with the spirits of\nmy brave and heroic forefathers, whose bones lie buried in that wild and\ndreary scene; and, as I finally parted from the scene, I sang the\nfollowing well-known lines, and so my voice re-echoed through the dales\nand caverns:\u2014\n\n    \u201cRest, ye brave dead, \u2019midst the hills of your sires.\n    Oh, who would not slumber when Freedom expires?\n    Lonely and voiceless your halls must remain,\n    The children of song may not breathe in the chain.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nA STORY OF DUNRAVEN CASTLE IN THE OLDEN TIMES;\nOR,\nGOD\u2019S JUDGMENT AGAINST WRECKERS.\n\n\nTHE PROEM.\n\n\nOn the southern coast of the county of Glamorgan, and situate at the back\nof a high rocky promontory commanding a magnificent view of the Bristol\nChannel, and just opposite the little sea-bathing village of\nSoutherndown, which appears desolate amid its desolation, stands the\nmodern Castle of Dunraven, which was built by the late Mr. Thomas\nWyndham.  This castle is erected on the site of a very ancient structure,\nwhich, in the olden times, was called Dindryfan.  The old castle is in\nsome respects the most interesting in the Principality.  It was there one\nof Cambria\u2019s greatest warriors and one of her purest patriots lived and\nreigned.  Dunraven was the centre of those wonderful military movements\nwhich gained for their author wide-spread fame and imperishable renown.\nIt was there that the great commander and war-tactician delivered those\neloquent harangues, which not only inspired confidence in so great and\nskilful a leader, but also nerved the patriot\u2019s arm, enabling his trusty\nfollowers to go forth to meet the foe fearlessly, courageously, and with\na resolute resolve to conquer or to die for their country\u2019s welfare and\nthe independence of their fatherland.  Caractacus, or as he is generally\ncalled by Cambrian writers, Caraddwg, was a great man and an illustrious\nwarrior, celebrated no less for his heroism than for his many other\nvirtues.  Hence, when one visits Dunraven, the scenes of his childhood\nand riper years, one seems to imbibe his spirit, to be inspired with the\nhighest admiration for his genius, and to feel the profoundest reverence\nfor the man who, though vanquished in his encounter with the\nwell-disciplined forces of Octavius yet was not ashamed\u2014rather in it did\nhe glory\u2014after many years of exile from the land of his birth, of his\nlove, and of his deepest and fondest affection, to return to the very\nscenes of his childhood and princely rule, in order to proclaim the good\nnews of the gospel, the truths and glories of which he had learned and\nrealized during his residence in the far-famed city of Rome.\n\nSubsequent to the death of Caraddwg, Dunraven continued to be the seat of\nthe Reguli of Glamorgan until the Norman Conquest.  When Robert\nFitz-Hamon divided the country he and his armies had conquered, he\nassigned this castle and manor to William de Londres, who, in consequence\nof their worthless value, gave them to his butler, afterwards Sir Arnold\nButler.  When the male issue of the Butler family became extinct, the\ncastle and manor fell to Walter Vaughan, who was a descendant of the\nfemale branch of the Butlers.  It is to this person our story relates.\nOh that his crimes had never been recorded by the pen of the historian!\nOh that his life and its deeds of horror and loathing, which, when we\ncontemplate, makes one\u2019s blood run cold, had remained unwritten!  As,\nhowever, these have been handed down to this distant age, I will\nendeavour to depict the scene, though I can form but a very dim and hazy\nconception of the barbarities and cruelties practised by that evil man in\nthose distant times.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n_THE LOVERS_.\n\n\nIt was a lovely autumn evening, when a young man and young woman might\nhave been seen walking hand in hand along the carriage drive which led\nfrom the village of St. Bride\u2019s to Dunraven Castle.  The young man was in\nhis usual buoyant and cheerful mood, happy and joyous, but his companion\nwas pensive and sad.  From childhood John ap William and Myfanwy\nGwenllian had been companions.  In childhood they had pledged themselves\nto be true to each other.  In childhood they had walked together, day\nafter day, either on the rocky headland below the village of\nSoutherndown, or on the sands of Dunraven Bay, picking off the rocks\nflowers of various tints and hues, or gathering in the little haven or\nbay beautiful stones or pebbles, or seaweeds and shells.  Besides, during\nthose childish excursions they were often seen gazing on the ocean\nsurges, or on the bright blue waves, now almost quiet and still, now\ndashing up in awful and appalling fury against the high and stupendous\nrocks surrounding the bay.  Often, too, might they have been seen\nwatching the ships as they sailed up and down the channel.  John\nespecially, loved the sea and its pebbly shore.  He was never so happy as\nwhen, with his beloved Myfanwy, he was watching the tidal eddies, or\nviewing the frail barques as they rode so majestically o\u2019er the briny\nwaves, carrying in their laps, as it were, the merchandise and the wealth\nof the world\u2014the products of the earth\u2019s richest blessings from shore to\nshore and from clime to clime.  John contemplated this scene as a\nChristian philosopher.  He looked upon commerce between nation and nation\nand between peoples and peoples as one of the greatest agents in\nadvancing the world\u2019s civilization, as it necessarily carried to distant\nlands those products of industry which so much contribute towards the\ncomfort and the material happiness and the general welfare of the race.\nBut while he looked upon commercial enterprise as a channel through which\nmaterial blessings might be conveyed, he moreover regarded it as tending\ndirectly to unite nation with nation, to realize and cement in the bonds\nof a holy brotherhood different races and separate nations and kingdoms;\nthus rendering war almost impossible.  Happy would it be if the statesmen\nof the world would act up to these high principles!\n\nBesides, though John had never been from home\u2014Bridgend being the furthest\nextent within the range of his geographical knowledge\u2014nevertheless, from\nhis reflection on the beneficial results flowing from commercial\nenterprise, and his strong passion for a roving life, and being,\nmoreover, desirous to follow his father\u2019s profession, who was commander\nof a merchant vessel, he had resolved, in his early years, to go to sea\nwhen he grew old enough, if a favourable opportunity offered itself.\nMyfanwy, however, used all her powers of argument and suasion with a view\nto prevent him from following so hazardous a calling; but without\nsuccess.  Upon a seafaring life he was resolved.  To visit distant lands,\nand to behold strange peoples and countries, was the all-prevailing and\nthe constant desire of his heart\u2019s deepest emotion.  Hence on attaining\nhis thirteenth year, he was apprenticed to his father.  When, however,\nthe day arrived for leaving home, and for bidding adieu to his beloved\nmother and his darling Myfanwy, the grief he felt on parting with those\nhe so deeply and tenderly loved, almost broke his heart.  At last he tore\nhimself from their embraces and fond caresses, and on the following day\nhe joined his father\u2019s ship at Bristol, which was even then a city of\nconsiderable commercial importance.\n\nAs young ap William was a joyous and spirited boy, always full of fun and\njoviality, and was never so well pleased as when he collected around him\na number of the sailors, and told them tales of other times, especially\ntales connected with the lives of the great warriors and heroes of his\ncountry he, in consequence, became a great favourite with his father\u2019s\ncrew, who loved him for his own and his father\u2019s sake.  During this time\nhe did not, however, neglect his studies; nor was he lacking in acquiring\na thorough knowledge of his profession.  He studied navigation, paid\ngreat attention to charts; while in a short time he gained such an\nintimate acquaintance with the management of the vessel, that before two\nyears elapsed the chief mate pronounced him to be the best and ablest\nsailor on board.\n\nBefore he attained his eighteenth year he could steer and manage a vessel\nwith any captain in the mercantile marine; and as the first mate then\nretired from the service, John was appointed, by the owners of the ship,\nas his successor, with a promise that on the first vacancy he should have\nthe command of one of their largest vessels.  During those years John had\nsaved several hundred pounds.  This sum his father invested in the\npurchase of a small freehold estate in his native parish, to which John\nintended to retire after he had saved enough to secure a sufficient\ncompetency for himself and his beloved Myfanwy.  To that day he looked\nforward with feelings of longing anticipation.  On that day he had often\nsaid he would forget the past, would recall to his mind neither sorrow\nnor human woes; but would for once live a day wholly devoted to pleasure\nand to joy, looking on from then to a still more bright and happy future.\nAlas! alas! how different often are results from our expectations.\nWeeping cometh in the morning as well as at night.  When we are most bent\non pleasure, when we fancy we are about to realize, according to our\nanticipations, its fullest fruition, a dark cloud, charged with mournful\ntidings, bursts on our head.  The day on which he led Myfanwy to the\naltar was the day on which he himself became an orphan.  Indeed, he had\nnot left the churchyard before being apprised of the sad intelligence\nthat a father whom he loved so much was now a mangled corpse.  He went\nhome to weep and to grieve, though he did not sorrow as one who had no\nhope.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n_A NOBLE RESOLVE NOBLY CARRIED OUT_.\n\n\nIt was morning.  Walter Vaughan and his heir were partaking of an early\nmeal before going to the chase.  Just previous to their departure,\n\u201cfaithful Evan,\u201d as he was called by the neighbours, entered the hall,\nand handed his master a letter, which he received with a trembling hand.\nMr. Vaughan hastily broke the seal, and commenced perusing its contents,\nbut before he had concluded its perusal, he became as pale as death, he\nshook like an aspen leaf, and his hand trembled violently.  The young\nlord, seeing his father\u2019s distress and mental agony, became seriously\nalarmed, and, in a paroxysm of anguish and grief, exclaimed in weeping\ntones:\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, father, my dear and fond parent! what is the matter?  Are you ill?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy boy,\u201d replied the lord, \u201cI am a ruined man!\u201d\n\n\u201cRuined, did you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, completely and, I fear, irretrievably ruined.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow, and by what means has so great a calamity befallen you?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis I will explain in a few words.  Some time ago I placed my affairs\nin the hands of an attorney, whom I then believed to be an honest man.\nHe has, however, proved himself to be a faithless friend and an arrant\nrogue.  This is his letter, in which he informs me that the lawsuit has\nbeen decided in favour of my opponent, who is my bitterest foe.  This\nvagabond lawyer further tells me, that the costs are so enormous that I\nshall be compelled to sell my estates in order to meet the liability.  He\neven doubts whether the castle and manor of Dunraven will realize\nsufficient, over and above the present encumbrance, to meet the debt.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you need not, dear father, dispose of the estate to satisfy the\nclaims of these lawyers.  There is the twenty thousand pounds my uncle\nleft me in the bank.  I will send an authority to the manager to pay you\nthat sum.  Surely, that will be sufficient to meet all claims.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear and noble-hearted boy, it almost breaks my heart to be obliged\nto tell you that your money, even to the last shilling, has already been\nspent.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely, you have not raised the whole of that sum?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, every penny has gone; and now, dear Walter, your patrimony in a few\nweeks will, I fear, become the possession of others.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is sad news, my father,\u201d replied Walter junior.  \u201cIt is, indeed, a\nterrible disaster.  But don\u2019t grieve.  What\u2019s done can\u2019t be undone.  I am\nresolved yet to redeem it, if time be granted me.  I am now penniless;\nbut I will make my own fortune.  I will yet gain for myself a name and a\nrank which shall be equal to, if it does not surpass, that of my\nillustrious ancestors.  Now being bereft of all, the poorest of the poor,\nand dependent upon my own powers and will, I will repair the ruin.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy what means will you accomplish this, Walter?\u201d inquired the father.\n\n\u201cOh, father, by means which are honourable; and by pursuits which lead to\nfortune.  By work, by labour, by industry, by indomitable plodding, and\nby engaging in the calling of men who have thereby accumulated untold\nwealth, and are possessed of unbounded riches.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not, my son, understand you.  To what pursuit do you refer?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be plain, then, this is my resolve: to engage at once in commercial\nundertakings, thus following in the footsteps of my late lamented uncle.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, considering the position we occupy in society as the lords of\nDunraven, for you to enter upon such an undertaking would be a\ndegradation.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, father, is it not a greater degradation to be poor\u2014to see our lands\nin the possession of others, to be provided with bread by the toil and\nlabour of others\u2014in short, to see men work, while we refuse to lift up a\nhand to help them, when we are dependent upon their industry?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is hard to do this, my noble boy; but to me it is still more painful\nto part with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou, dear father, have ever been kind and indulgent to me.  Believe me,\nfor I speak from my heart of hearts, that to leave you, though it be but\nfor a season, is to me a matter of deep sorrow.  It is, however, a stern\nnecessity that compels my departure.  I shall, nevertheless, leave you,\nthough with sadness, yet with a buoyant hope, destined, I doubt not to be\nrealised, to return to the home of my fathers laden with gold.  The\nprospect of that day will cheer me in my labour, will nerve my arm, and\nhelp me to surmount any difficulties which may pass athwart my path.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod grant you success, my son, for which I will pray fervently during\nyour forced absence.  But whither will you go?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think, dear father, that I can secure immediate employment\u2014an\nemployment, too, which will in no way be degrading to me as your heir.\nYesterday I received a letter from my old friend and companion, Mr.\nJones, of Marseilles, who is one of the greatest merchants of that famous\ncity, in which he has asked me to look out for a gentleman to act as\nconfidential clerk.  He further says, that if the right man secures the\nappointment, and proves to be one who can be trusted, with business\nhabits, tact, and energy, he holds out the prospect of an advantageous\npartnership.  As he is in immediate want of a young man possessing those\nqualities, which I fancy I possess, I will write him offering my\nservices, which, considering my altered circumstances, I think he will\nonly feel too proud to accept.\u201d\n\nYoung Walter was indeed just the kind of youth Mr. Jones wanted.  He had\nreceived the best education which the Oxford of those times afforded.  He\nhad the bump of order largely developed.  He was persevering,\npainstaking, energetic, and an indomitable plodder; whatever his hand\nfound to do, he did it with all his might.  Anything he undertook he\nwould not give up until he had thoroughly mastered it.  Moreover, he was\nthoroughly conscientious.  In this virtue he followed his mother\u2019s rather\nthan his father\u2019s family.  Indeed, the old lord was regarded, and was\njustly considered, as an unprincipled, grasping, and unscrupulous man;\nand it was his greedy love of gold, and his insatiable thirst for larger\npossessions, which he sought to secure by unjust means and foul play,\nthat had, in consequence of non-success, brought about his ruin.  He had\nset up a claim to the heirship of another gentleman\u2019s estate, though its\nowner\u2019s ancestors were in its possession and enjoyment when Vaughan\u2019s\nforefathers were menials.  The court, happily, decided the suit in favour\nof the rightful owner, and to mark their sense of the wrong the lord of\nDunraven intended doing, ordered him to pay the costs of ten years\u2019\nlitigation.  It was this final decision of which his lawyer had apprised\nhim in the letter previously alluded to.  His son, on the other hand, was\nan upright and an honourable man, who would rather suffer wrong than do\nan unjust act.  Mr. Jones was well aware of these noble qualities with\nwhich young Walter was endowed; hence, on the receipt of the letter\noffering his services, he wrote him a note full of kindly feeling and\nsympathy, and further pressing his old friend and correspondent to join\nhim in London the following week, as he should be over in England for a\nfew days on important matters connected with his business.  On the\nreceipt of this communication from Mr. Jones, young Walter commenced\npreparing for leaving home.  At last the day arrived for his departure,\nand bidding his father an affectionate adieu, he went forth into the\nbroad world, either to be carried on the tide which leads to fortune, or\nto sink beneath its devouring crests.\n\nOn Walter\u2019s arrival in London, his old friend and earliest companion was\nwaiting at his hotel ready to receive him.  His reception was most\ncordial on the part of Mr. Jones.  After spending a few days in town,\nthey took ship for Marseilles.  On arriving at their destination, the\nheir of Dunraven was at once installed in office; and before a week had\nelapsed, his employer saw that he had secured a valuable acquisition to\nhis establishment.\n\nAfter Mr. Vaughan had been in the establishment about six months, Mr.\nJones came to the office one morning earlier than usual.  Though none of\nthe hands had arrived, he found to his surprise and joy his new clerk at\nthe desk.  \u201cI am glad,\u201d addressing Walter, \u201cyou are here, for I want to\nconsult you on a matter of great importance.  I have been debating with\nmy junior partner,\u201d continued Mr. Jones, \u201cas to the wisdom or unwisdom of\nsending to the London market a new kind of silk, which a manufacturer has\njust introduced.  He strongly opposes its purchase, while I, on the other\nhand, am convinced it is just the thing that will take.  You are a good\njudge of quality and beauty, so give me your candid opinion as to whether\nit is wise or not to make a large or any purchase of this class of\ngoods.\u201d\n\n\u201cI presume you will not require an immediate answer,\u201d replied Walter.\n\u201cIf you will kindly give me an hour to think over it, I will then offer\nmy opinion.\u201d\n\nDuring that hour the young clerk was busily engaged in carefully\nexamining the material with the aid of a powerful magnifying glass, and\nwas struck with both the fineness of the texture and the beauty of its\ndesign.  On the return of his principal, he said that, in his opinion,\nthe silk was just the kind of goods which would command a ready sale in\nthe London market, and strongly recommended that the whole stock should\nbe bought up, and immediately shipped.  Mr. Jones acted on the opinion,\nwhich turned out to be the most fortunate speculation in which he had\never engaged.  The sum actually realized was \u00a320,000, of this sum he\npresented the young clerk with \u00a35000, and in addition offered\u2014an offer\nwhich was gladly and gratefully accepted\u2014a partnership in the business.\nAfter this, the house of Jones & Company rose higher and higher in the\ncommercial world, and the annual profits of the business were so great,\nthat at the expiration of the seven years of partnership the young lord\nof Dunraven had at his command a sufficient sum to pay off the\nincumbrance of the estate.  To that effect he wrote his father, and on\nthe receipt of the money, he called his creditors together and paid them\ntheir demands.  The lord of Dunraven thus became once more a free and\nindependent man; but, alas! he did not give up his calling, but, with new\nlife and renewed energy pursued the mission of the Evil One: being\nconstantly at the post of mischief, and with eager eyes and a longing\nheart, looking out on the stormy wavy channel for treasures which, by\nfoul play, he was resolved to bring into his meshes.  Prosper thou, lord\nof Dunraven, but in thy prosperity remember that the sword of justice is\nhovering over thy head, and in the midst of thy prosperity it will strike\nthee down.  The day of vengeance tarries; but it will come, and when it\narrives, oh, how terrible will be thy doom!\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n_THE ALLIANCE OF THE LORD OF DUNRAVEN WITH MAC THE DEVIL_, _AND SOME\nOFITS RESULTS_.\n\n\nIt was about three years subsequent to the departure of the son and heir\nof Dunraven, that the old lord resolved to take into his service MacLean,\n_alias_ Mac the Devil.  He knew that this man was a desperate character\nand a thorough daredevil, who neither feared God nor regarded man; in\nshort, that for money and Scotch whisky, he would do the devil\u2019s work\naccording to his satanic majesty\u2019s own special plan.  There was no crime\nof which Mac was not guilty, but, by reason of the stealthy way in which\nhe carried out his doings of iniquity, he always succeeded in avoiding\ndetection.  Though blood was on his hands, though he had robbed the\nfatherless, and murdered, for the sake of pelf, the innocent, yet he\nwalked the earth with head erect as a guiltless person, little dreaming\nof the terrible doom awaiting him.  However, his cup of iniquity was not\nyet full, though daily it was nearing the brim.  He was in the act of\nplanning some new crime when he received a message from the lord of\nDunraven to attend him at the castle.  Mac, with trembling hands and a\nsinking heart, at once attended to the commands of Mr. Vaughan, though,\non his way there, he had many misgivings as to the prudence of the step\nhe was taking.  He, however, soon convinced himself that were he to\ndisobey the summons he must quit for ever the neighbourhood, as he dare\nnot confront the lord of Dunraven if guilty of disobedience to his\nlordship\u2019s commands.  To the castle, therefore, he repaired, and on his\narrival he was ushered by the faithful Evan into the library, where Mr.\nVaughan was awaiting him.  On Mac\u2019s entering he was requested to take a\nseat, when Mr. Vaughan, with a degree of sternness he seldom manifested,\nreproached him for leading a life so fraught with danger.\n\n\u201cI do not, my lord,\u201d said Mac, touching his head, \u201cunderstand your\nmeaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you don\u2019t, don\u2019t you?  If then I say you are deeply steeped in\ncrime, that you are a murderer, a thief, a rogue, and a villain, should I\nnot speak the truth, and would you not understand my charge?\u201d\n\n\u201cSaying so, and proving its truth, are, I ken, two very different things,\nmy lord.  You can\u2019t prove that I am otherwise than an innocent man.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you be too sure of that, Mac.  Indeed, I already possess evidence,\nwhich, if necessary, can at any moment be produced, completely\nsubstantiating my charge; and, Mac, I have a great mind to produce that\nevidence to the authorities.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou dare not do that, my lord,\u201d replied Mac.\n\n\u201cYou scoundrel! dare you threaten me in my own castle?  If you say\nanother word, and use that language to me, I\u2019ll send for the bum-bailiff\nat once, and, as a magistrate, order you into his custody.\u201d\n\n\u201cI say again, my lord, that you daren\u2019t carry out your threat.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy daren\u2019t I, I should be glad to know?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause if you were to do so I\u2019d peach.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would do what, Mac?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019d peach; that is, I\u2019d tell all about your lordship\u2019s doings.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe d\u2014d, you would?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who would believe you, you scoundrel?\u201d\n\n\u201cMe they may not, my lord of Dunraven; but they\u2019d believe the evidence of\nothers.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut can you or your friends, you vagabond, bear any evil testimony\nagainst me?  I live in my own castle, and never mix with the world.  It\nis well known to all around, that my life and my time is devoted to\nstudy, to the practice of virtue, and to acts of piety.  Me they know as\na model citizen and a Christian man and a gentleman.  Therefore, my\ncharacter would be proof against insinuations, or charges patched up by\nyou or your hellish crew.  You and your criminal companions might say,\nand even swear\u2014you are capable of anything bad\u2014you saw me in the act of\ncommitting a crime, but neither your word nor your oath would have any\nweight with those who know you, were the life of a dog only involved.\u201d\n\n\u201cDinna you be too sure of that, my lord,\u201d rejoined Mac; \u201cI ken, and\nSquire Jones knows too, the sad fate of the ship _Bristol_, of the\n_Elizabeth_ of Swansea, and of the _City of Paris_.  He and I know also\nby whose hands the false light was hung out on Dunraven Head, and by\nwhose hands the captains and the crews were murdered\u2014who afterwards\nseized the wrecks, who sent them to market to be sold, and who received\nthe money.  If I may be so bold, I could tell further that, within this\ncastle, and in a cell beneath this room, there is a poor unfortunate man,\nwho was put into an iron cage, and locked there by you,\u2014the lord of\nDunraven castle,\u2014and that he is daily fed by crumbs from your table.  If\nthis man were free, he could tell a tale at which humanity would shudder.\nYou, my lord, think I sleep with my eyes shut, that I tremble at sight of\nthe sea, that I\u2019m afraid of the darkness and the tempests; and you knew\nnot that when those vessels went down, and when all the hands on board\nperished, except this poor man in the cage, I was near you, my lord,\u2014even\nclose by your side, though unperceived.  Knowing these facts, I now dare\nyou, my lord, to molest me or breathe a word injurious to my character.\nIf you do so, I\u2019ll peach, and I\u2019ll take care that the lord of Dunraven\nshall be my fellow-prisoner.  You have called me a scoundrel.  Doesn\u2019t\nthat foul term apply equally to you, my lord?  But your sin will yet find\nyou out.\u201d\n\nFor these terrible revelations Mr. Vaughan was wholly unprepared.  During\ntheir recital he shook as a man having the palsy.  He uttered, too, the\nmost awful imprecations, and cursed and swore like a man possessed of the\ndevil.  These, however, had no influence over the mind of the hard-headed\nand hard-hearted Scotchman, who continued his tale heedless of the\nfoaming rage of Mr. Vaughan.  _He_ never dreamt that his crimes were\nknown to mortal, beyond the circle of his demoniac companions.  He had so\ncautiously arranged his plans, and had carried them out so stealthily,\nthat he fancied the knowledge of his rascality was confined to those\ndesperadoes whom he had specially hired to carry out his nefarious\ndesigns.  Now, however, his deeds were known not only to Mac, but to his\ngreat enemy, Squire Jones; thus the man whom he sought to rob of his\nrightful possessions was also cognizant of those deeds.  Mr. Vaughan\u2019s\nfirst thought, when Mac had finished his tale, was to take away, there\nand then, either his life or his liberty.  But a moment\u2019s reflection\ncompelled him to hesitate in adopting so dangerous a course, as it was\nknown in the village of Southerndown that Mac had been summoned to the\ncastle.  Considering the matter more seriously, he came to the conclusion\nthat there was only one course open to him: namely, to take Mac into his\nservice, and make him captain of the crew.  By pursuing this course, he\nwould completely shut the mouths of Mac\u2019s friends, and by securing the\nservices of so skilful and so daring a wrecker, richer and more abundant\nharvests might yet be reaped.  Drawing himself to his full height, he\nsaid to his defiant visitor,\u2014\n\n\u201cI do not, Mac, admit your charges, and I say further that they are\nincapable of proof; but as I sustained so heavy a loss by law, and as\ndrowning men will not stand on ceremony, but will accept the assistance\nof their bitterest foe when they feel themselves sinking beneath the\ndevouring waves, I am therefore prepared to take you into my employ, and\nif you prove faithful to my interests and obedient to my orders, you may\nrise to wealth and to honour.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut in what way, my lord, do you intend me to serve you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know, Mac, your special calling, and not wholly unknown to me,\u2014don\u2019t\nbe alarmed,\u2014is the success which has followed your labours.  Being under\nmy protection, by being in my service, you may well look forward to still\ngreater results.  I need not say you are well aware that your present\nposition is fraught with danger, and that one word from me would put a\nstop to your career.  If your words be true, _our_ interests clash.\nBesides, Mac, the stealthy and criminal vagabond, prowling about in\nsearch of prey, is in a very different position to Mac, the servant of\nthe lord of Dunraven.  With that sentiment you agree, do you not?\u201d\n\n\u201cI must admit, my lord, you have put the case very clearly, and your\nreasons in favour of my accepting your offer are strong.  I can\u2019t\nwithstand them, so I\u2019ll say Aye to your proposal.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have acted like a man of sense, Mac, as I always took you to be.\nTo-night, work will have to be done; so go home and tell Molly, your\nwife, of your engagement, and don\u2019t fail to meet me at the Watch Tower at\nfour o\u2019clock.\u201d\n\nNo sooner had Mac left the castle to pay a visit to his wife, with a view\nto apprise her of his engagement, than Mr. Vaughan also took his\ndeparture, and immediately afterwards joined the watcher at the Tower,\nwhich was situate on the highest point of the promontory.  On entering\nthe observatory, he inquired for the result of the day\u2019s observations,\nwhich, on being put into his hand, made him remark that matters did not\nlook very bright.\n\n\u201cWhen things are at the worst,\u201d replied the watcher, \u201cthey generally\nmend.  I think we shall have some work to do before to-morrow morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour reason for that opinion, my faithful Duncan.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou see yonder flag hoisted on St. Donat\u2019s Watch Tower?  That flag has\nnever yet deceived me.  Depend upon it, it is the harbinger of good news.\nThe wind, too, blows hard from the south, and, if I\u2019m not mistaken, there\nwill be a fearful gale before midnight, and the ships coming down channel\nmust necessarily be driven towards our coast.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour information, my Duncan, is cheering: I, too, am bearer of good news\nto you.  I have just engaged Mac the Devil, and shall appoint him to the\noffice of captain of the beach and boatmen.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so glad you\u2019ve taken my cousin into your service.  Mac is a smart\nman, he is well up in the trade, he is fearless, and, what is still more\nimportant, will not stick at trifles in obtaining his end.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou approve then, Duncan, of my arrangement?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost certainly, sir.  In our line of business Mac has no equal.  He has\nthe strength of a giant, while he is a stranger to fear, and fortunately\nhas no conscience.  I never heard of his failure in accomplishing his\nobject by fair means or foul.  When he fails to thrash a dozen sailors\nwith his fists, and to pitch them into the sea, he resorts to the pistol,\nwhich, in his hand, never misses in its aim.  In our calling, my lord, I\nyield to none but Mac.  He is my superior in everything, except in this\nobservatory.  Oh, were he here to-night!  We shall want a man of his\nmetal.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis time your wish will be gratified.  I expect Mac here every moment.\nLook, he\u2019s coming down the road from Southerndown, in our direction.  *\n*  *  Call up the men from the beach, Duncan; I wish them to be present\nwhen Mac arrives, so as to inform them of the appointment.\u201d\n\nThe men were duly summoned by the head watcher.  On arriving at the\ntower, they stood in a row, in front of the entrance, to await their\nmaster\u2019s commands.  Presently he appeared, accompanied by Duncan and Mac,\nand, addressing his men, spoke of their fidelity to his interest, called\ntheir attention to the many splendid victories achieved over the enemy,\nof the rich laurels already reaped from wrecks, and, further, that there\nwas the strongest ground for hoping that their past gains were but as a\ndrop of the bucket to those they might expect to realize hereafter.  \u201cBut\nyour success,\u201d said Mr. Vaughan, \u201cwill depend wholly upon yourselves.\nYou must be united, there must be harmony in your ranks, hearty\nco-operation; while all must cheerfully bow to the order of the\ncommander-in-chief.  To that office I have selected a man after your own\nheart.  You who are in favour of having Mac for your captain, hold up\nyour hands.\u201d\n\nTo this request every hand was held up, whereupon Mac took his post at\nthe head of the wreckers.  They were then regaled with a liberal supply\nof whisky, and when each one had taken his fill they repaired again to\nthe beach.  No sooner, however, had they departed than there were seen\ncoming down the channel two fine vessels.  The wind now blew a frightful\ngale, raising up the waters into waves like mountains, on whose crests\nthe ships were carried at their mercy.  Everything appeared favourable to\nthe wreckers.  In the west the sun had declined.  The shades of night\nwere falling fast.  Every minute the darkness thickened.  The tempest\nincreased in fury, while the roar of the ocean and the winds howling in\nthe rocks and caverns around Dunraven Head, were most appalling.\nNotwithstanding the tempest, neither Mr. Vaughan nor Duncan moved from\nthe spot of observation.  As the vessels neared the point, the fatal\nlight was placed in the tower.  The captains of both ships now fully\nrealised their danger: that there was no hope of saving either their\nships or their own lives.  The crews, too, were well aware of being on\nthe enemy\u2019s ground, and, informing their commanders of their\napprehension, at once unanimously resolved, if they must perish by\ntreachery so base and devilish, that others should also perish at their\nhands.  On their ships being driven into the bay they heroically prepared\nthemselves for the combat.  Each one armed himself with a cutlass, and\nwhen the vessels were dashed against the rocks of Dunraven Head, they, as\none man, leaped into the boiling surge, and swam for the shore.  But in\nthis heroic attempt to save their lives, several received severe\ninjuries, while others sank to rise no more.  However, the greater\nportion of them arrived safely on the beach, but no sooner had they\nlanded than they saw, creeping along the shore, under the shelter of the\nrocks, a strong body of men well armed.  The sailors, however, were in no\nway alarmed at the appearance of the enemy.  Before quitting their\nvessels they were well aware that the lord of Dunraven was on the alert.\nOf this the light on the Watch Tower was a sufficient proof.  Hence, when\nthey saw the wreckers approaching they placed themselves on the\ndefensive, and patiently awaited the attack.  They had not long to wait,\nfor the Dunraven men immediately came up and called upon the sailors to\nsurrender.  To that call, however, they paid no heed, but drawing out\ntheir daggers, fell with terrible force upon the wreckers, who, however,\nstood their ground manfully.  The battle was a desperate one, while the\nslaughter was most appalling to witness.  Many a brave man on both sides\nfell, mortally wounded.  For a time the sailors had the best of the fray.\nTheir arms were nerved, too, by the consideration that, if beaten, death\nwould be the lot of each.  Just, however, when they thought their victory\nwas sure, there came up to the rescue of the wreckers their captain, who,\nwith his own hand, killed six of the sailors.  The work of butchery now\ncommenced in earnest.  One after another of the sailors fell, never to\nrise again.  Indeed not one single man of their number survived to tell\nthe tale.  When the work of slaughter was completed, the captain ordered\nall the bodies to be carried to the adjoining cavern, where they were\nburied in a large chasm in the rock.  After interring the dead, Mac and\nthe survivors returned to the beach, and watched there for the morning\ndawn.  During the night both vessels were broken to atoms by the fury of\nthe waves, and as daylight appeared, the shore, for half a mile, was\nliterally covered with articles of great value, which on being sold,\nrealised a large sum.\n\nThe deeds of that terrible night spread far and wide.  The owners of the\nvessels and merchants pressed the Government to send down a special\ncommission of inquiry.  For several weeks these commissioners carried on\ntheir investigations; but, while collecting a large amount of evidence,\nyet in consequence of the absence of one witness, whose evidence was\nessential to bring the charge home to the lord of Dunraven, they failed\nin substantiating the case against Mr. Vaughan.  A week subsequent to the\ndeparture of the commissioners, that witness was found; but he could tell\nno tale, being a mangled corpse.  The body had been washed ashore near\nPorthcawl.  The remains were those of Captain ap William, the father of\nJohn.  The news of this discovery was at once carried to his widow, who\nwas busily engaged in preparing her son\u2019s wedding dinner when the\nmessenger arrived.  After breaking the fatal news to Mrs. ap William, the\nmessenger continued his journey to the little village of St. Bride\u2019s,\nand, going up to the church, he met at the porch the newly-married pair.\nTo Captain John, as he was generally called, the messenger told his sad\ntale.  Both John and his wife were deeply affected on being apprised of\ntheir bereavement.  They returned to their home to weep and to mourn; so\nJohn\u2019s bridal day, which he hoped would be a day of unclouded joy, proved\nto be one of sadness, of sorrow, and of death.  He thus fully realized,\nby personal experience, the truth of the inspired saying, that we know\nnot what a day may bring forth.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n_THE TERRIBLE DOOM_.\n\n\nDuring the progress of the inquiry into the circumstances connected with\nthe wreck, every effort was made by the authorities to discover the\nwhereabouts of those who were believed to be engaged in the affair; but\nthose inquiries were, unfortunately, unattended with success.  The usual\nhaunts of the wreckers were repeatedly searched, their dwellings were\nwatched, and even guarded night and day.  The villages and the\nneighbouring hamlets were visited on several consecutive days, yet they\nfailed to find a single individual able to afford any intelligence or\ninformation as to the hiding-place of the desperadoes.  The non-success\nof these inquiries was considered as most singular, no less than\ninexplicable.  On the morning following the sad occurrence, several of\nthe wreckers, including Mac the Devil, had been seen on the beach below\nDunraven Castle, but it appeared that no sooner had they completed the\npacking and loading of the treasures collected, than they all disappeared\nin a most sudden manner from view, and that disappearance was effected in\na most unaccountable way.  Whither they went, or how they left the beach,\nno one could tell.  They were distinctly seen, and in a moment afterwards\nthey were lost to view, as if the earth had opened and swallowed them up.\n\nOwing to their non-discovery, speculation was rife as to their probable\nhiding-place.  Some thought it most likely that they were hidden in the\ncellars under Dunraven Castle; others contended that Mr. Vaughan was too\nshrewd a man to place them there, especially as he himself was suspected\nof participating in the battle, and that that suspicion might lead to an\ninquiry which might be followed up by a personal search.  Others\nconcluded that they had quitted the neighbourhood, and were hiding in the\nwoods about Margam, or up the Ogmore Valley.  There was one old gentleman\nwho treated all these opinions with contempt.  Every village and parish\nhas its wise man, to whom, in an emergency, an appeal is made, and the\nold gentleman alluded to was the then wise man of Southerndown, as Hopkin\nLlewelyn is in our day.  He gave it as his opinion, that the wreckers\nwere neither in the woods of Ogmore Valley nor Margam, nor would they be\nfound in the Dunraven cellars, but were still in the neighbourhood, and\nwithin the sound of their voices; in short, that they were hid in some\nsubterraneous cavern in the bay, which had hitherto remained\nundiscovered, and hence was known only to the wreckers.  He further\npredicted that as soon as the storm should blow over, by the departure of\nthe commissioners, and the usual quietude of the locality assume its\ngeneral aspect, the wreckers would again return to their old haunts,\nhaving Mac at their head; and would be then found wandering from point to\npoint, having no special occupation, nor ostensible means of livelihood.\nThe prediction of the village seer was verified to the letter.  No sooner\nhad the commissioners left than the wreckers did return, and they\nappeared at their place of rendezvous, the Cups, as if nothing had\nhappened.  Here they spent the morning of each day in drinking beer and\nwhisky; and here they spent their money with as much prodigality as if\nthey were the owners of gold mines.  The landlord of the Cups received\ntheir money without even asking whether they came to it by honest or\nlawless means.  When asked how he could be so lost to every sense of\nright as to accept money from men who certainly had earned it by being\nengaged in a nefarious calling, he replied that he was perfectly\nindifferent, and that it was no concern of his how they came by their\nsilver and gold, so long as they paid him for what they drank.  In this\nreply we recognise the true philosophy of the trade.  Landlords, as a\nrule, care but little for the sorrows, the poverty, and the wants of\ntheir drinking clients and their families.  They want to sell drink, and\nhence never for a moment reflect whether or not their customers can\nafford to spend a shilling, or as to the manner by means of which it was\nearned.  He, of the Cups, was, in money matters, true to his calling; but\nwe cannot commend the wisdom, or rather unwisdom, of the wreckers in\nspending their money at the old house, when the children of some of them\nwanted bread.\n\nOn the morning following one of these carouses, Mac paid a visit to the\ntower to see his cousin Duncan.  Though they had met several times since\nthe day on which they came from their hiding-places, yet they had not\nbeen fortunate enough to secure an uninterrupted and unobserved\nconversation.  To this both had anxiously looked forward.  Fortunately,\nwhen Mac entered, ho found his cousin in the observatory alone.  Placing\nhis books and instruments on the table, Duncan turned his chair to the\nfire, and requested his visitor to be seated on the opposite side of the\nfire.  As the kettle was boiling on the hob, the host prepared two pints\nof excellent whisky toddy, one of which he handed Mac, who, on sipping\nthe mixture remarked that it was \u201ccapital stuff,\u201d and moreover inquired\nof Duncan where he obtained it.\n\n\u201cIt came, Mac, from the old country; imported direct from the distiller.\nThis is just the beverage for a stormy night, is it not, Mac?\u201d\n\n\u201cOn _that night_ I\u2019d have given a pound for a pint of toddy like this.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the bye, Mac,\u201d said Duncan, \u201cyou did the thing very neatly that\nnight.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m obliged to you, cousin, for your good opinion.  What did Mr. Vaughan\nsay about our doings?  He saw the whole scene.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy lord said to me, that unless you had been present, all would have\nbeen lost, as the sailors up to the time you came up had the best of the\nbattle.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Vaughan was right there, Duncan.  Had I not come up at the moment I\ndid, every wrecker would have been a dead man.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo my lord, who was on the rock above you, said.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Duncan, it was a sad sight!  I hope, cousin, I shall never be\ncompelled to witness a similar scene.\n\n\u201cIt is a sickening and a degrading calling, this of ours, in which\nvictory has no honour, and triumph no glory.  While it is a merry life\nand profitable to those engaged in it, it is surrounded with scenes which\nare shocking to behold.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs our master has such a large estate, Duncan, why does he carry on so\nhazardous and so dangerous a calling?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe secret is this, he loves gold, and his heart is set on attaining\nriches; and to secure them he\u2019ll take away any man\u2019s life if it stands\nbetween him and the prize he covets.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should think he shook in his shoes when those men were down here.  Was\nhe not alarmed, Duncan?\u201d\n\n\u201cOur master was, Mac, certainly alarmed; but, take my word, he\u2019ll go on\njust in the same way.  He is just like the little animal which, when once\nit tastes the blood of its victim, never gives up pursuit until it has\nsecured the prey.  The lord of Dunraven will, in my opinion, continue\nwrecking until some great calamity befalls his house or his family.\u201d\n\nThe subsequent doings of Mr. Vaughan fully established the opinion of\nDuncan.  Although he had been in imminent danger of having his crime\ndiscovered, yet, when those who conducted the inquiry had left the\nvicinity, the lord of Dunraven, with renewed energy and more resolute\ndetermination, carried on his nefarious calling.  In each succeeding\nwinter, vessels were wrecked in Dunraven Bay which had been decoyed\nthither by the false lights he had caused to be placed in the tower.\nFrom these wrecks he realized large sums.  Had he been permitted to\npursue his satanic designs for a few years longer, he would have become\nthe richest man in the vale of Glamorgan.\n\nIn consequence of the great losses ship-owners had sustained by reason of\nthese wrecks, and the terror which the scenes of Dunraven had inspired,\nboth owners and masters of vessels trading up and down the Bristol\nChannel were alarmed, and were in constant apprehensions lest they should\nexperience the same disaster which had unhappily befallen so many of\ntheir brethren.  Captain ap William, however, was not deterred from\npursuing his seafaring calling by these disasters, though his wife,\npreviously to his starting on every voyage, warned him of the danger of\nfollowing so hazardous a pursuit.  Yet, in spite of those warnings, and\nthe urgent solicitations of his wife to remain at home, he continued\ngoing to sea.\n\nIt was after one of these wrecks, when more than ordinary violence had\nbeen used by the men of Dunraven, that the captain and his wife were\nwalking from St. Bride\u2019s along the carriage way to Dunraven.  This was\ntheir favourite walk, and it was, moreover, associated with many a happy\nscene in days of yore.  After pursuing their walk for some time in\nsilence, Mrs. ap William began to weep.\n\n\u201cWhy those tears, Myfanwy?\u201d asked her husband.\n\n\u201cI weep, John,\u201d she replied, \u201cin thought of the prospect of our\nseparation.  Oh, you will not leave me again, will you?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, wife, I must.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut where is the necessity for you to risk your life again?  We have\nenough to keep us in independence and comfort.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have promised my employers to go on this one voyage.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t they get another captain to take charge of the ship?\u201d\n\n\u201cDoubtless they could, but they won\u2019t trust every man with my vessel.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I wish you would stay at home!  Indeed, indeed, I fear, if you leave\nme, I shall never see you again.  Last night I dreamt, and in my dream I\nfancied I saw your body being taken from the sea, your hair clotted, and\nyour face covered with blood.  Oh, I do fear, if you again leave me, I\nshall never see you alive!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not be alarmed for my safety, Myfanwy.  Life is as safe on the ocean\nas on the land.  The same Providence watches over the seaman as the\nlandsman.  He being at the helm, He controlling and guiding the destiny\nof us all, will be my friend, even should danger threaten me.  So cheer\nup, thou treasure of my heart, and since you are so urgent that I should\ngive up my calling, I now promise that on my return from this one voyage\nI will remain at home.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can urge you no further, John.  During your absence I\u2019ll pray for your\nsafe return.\u201d\n\nThe following morning Captain John ap William took his departure.  He\njoined his ship at Bristol, and from that port he sailed for the city of\nLisbon with a cargo of West of England goods.  From thence he sailed to\nLondon, thence to Hamburg, and after several voyages between the two\nlast-mentioned cities, chartered his ship to the Mediterranean, and took\na valuable cargo at Marseilles for Bristol.\n\nDuring her husband\u2019s absence, Myfanwy felt constant anxiety on his\nbehalf, an anxiety intensified owing to the sad havoc among shipping at\nDunraven Bay.  As it was now winter, her feeling of apprehension\nincreased in intensity, as she daily expected his return.  October had\ncome and gone, but he had not returned, nor had she received, for several\nweeks, a letter from him.  November had come in more than usually stormy.\nAll over the country trees had been uprooted, houses were blown down, and\non the rocks above Dunraven Bay, and below Southerndown, the winds were\nso terrible that persons were in the imminent risk of being blown over if\nthey went within even fifty yards of the precipice.  On Friday morning\nthe hurricane increased in its fury.  As the evening approached, the\nstorm became fearful, while the tumultuous waves increased in violence,\nfoaming, then wildly raving, then receding in circling eddies for awhile,\ninto their gloomy bosom; then, again, returning with renewed force and\naugmented fury.  Upon their tumultuous and angry surges a large vessel,\nheavily laden, was being driven towards the bay of Dunraven by the fierce\ntempest.  If that fine ship, which bore on her bosom the rich merchandise\nof continental skill and industry, be dashed against the desperate\nassemblage of rocks, crags, and shoals surrounding the bay\u2014imagination\nwith its utmost stretch could form but a very imperfect idea of so\ndireful and so appalling a spectacle.  As the villagers gazed upon the\ntumultuous billows, they saw the ship, which had battled many a stormy\nbreeze, uplifted on the briny surge, then plunging headlong down the\nrepelling rock.  In that terrible collision, a hole nearly three feet\nsquare, was made in the bottom, through which the sea rushed in with\nterrible force, on which she began to sink.  When this was discovered,\nthe crew, in wild despair, called to the men on the beach to come and\nhelp them.  They, however, moved not, but waited the issue with the most\nstolid indifference.  Amid that cry of despairing anguish the sea rolled\nin with increased violence and fury, the waves dashing over the\nfast-sinking ship, and carrying along with them the unfortunate crew.\nPresently there was seen clinging to a frail board a young man, comely in\nform and handsomely dressed.  Having fastened himself to this, the\nwreckers heard him beseeching them, in most piteous cries to come and\nhelp him.  However, to that cry no attention was paid.  Seeing this, he,\nwith a voice which moved even the hard hearts of the wreckers, called\nout, \u201cOh, my father, my father! if you love your son, who has been a\ndutiful and a faithful son to you\u2014if there be in your bosom any affection\nfor him who has only lived to promote your welfare and interest; who, in\nyour declining years, has laboured and striven, and thereby has succeeded\nin redeeming the manor of Dunraven from its heavy incumbrance\u2014send the\nmen to save me from a watery grave!\u201d  That cry the lord of Dunraven\nheard.  It pierced his very soul.  His countenance was marked with\nanguish, blended with despair.  All he could say was, \u201cIt is my own son\nWalter, and I have caused his death!\u201d  He then fell down in a fit.  When\nthe wreckers heard their master\u2019s exclamation they, as one man, took to\nthe sea.  Towards the drowning man they pressed forward with great\nenergy, and at last succeeded in touching the frail board.  At that\nmoment there was a terrible sea, which, in receding, carried away the\nyoung lord of Dunraven and the whole of the wreckers, except Mac the\nDevil, who succeeded in gaining the shore.  The Lord of Dunraven, when he\nrecovered from the swoon, learned all that had happened, even of his\nson\u2019s death.  From that night Mr. Vaughan was never seen at Dunraven\nCastle.  He went forth, bowed down with age and with sin, a wandering\nghost, seeking rest but finding none.  No one ever heard that he was\nsorry on account of the crimes he had committed against heaven and earth.\nIn a few years afterwards news came to Wales that in an encounter with a\nhighwayman, in the North of England, the once great lord of Dunraven was\nslain, and his body was thrown over the rocks into the sea.  In his\npockets were found papers which led to his identification.  As his money\nhad been taken by the robber, he was buried at the expense of the parish\nin which his body was found.  Such was the life and such the end of a man\nwho sought riches by robbery, and gold by the sacrifice of human life.\nIndeed, he lived a miserable life, and died a miserable death.\n\nAs regards the other persons of this history but little remains to be\ntold.  Mac, on that night, disappeared from the scene.  But every nook\nand corner of the coast was watched and carefully guarded night and day.\nThe people of the neighbourhood expressed their confidence that Mac was\nstill in the locality, in his old hiding-place.  After watching for a\nfortnight, during which there were no signs of his appearance, they were\nalmost persuaded to give up the affair.  However, they resolved still to\ncontinue guarding the coast for another week.  The day before that week\nexpired, one of the watchers saw in the sea, coming out from between two\nrocks, a man diving.  Evidently he had come from some subterranean\ncavern, with an outlet under the water.  This man was Mac the Devil.  He\nwas there and then taken, and lodged in gaol.  At the following assizes\nhe was found guilty of murder and was condemned to die.  Before his death\nhe confessed all, and left behind him a record of his exploits, and a\ndetailed account of his connection with the lord of Dunraven.  Before\nthat record was read, Mr. Vaughan had breathed his last.\n\nBut what became of Captain John?  It was his vessel that went down, and\nit was young Vaughan\u2019s cargo with which she was laden.  On the morning\nsubsequent to the wreck he was found on the seashore in Dunraven Bay,\nwith his body much bruised, and his face covered with blood.  He was,\nhowever, still alive, and thanks to the careful nursing of his wife and\nmedical skill, he soon recovered, and gave up going to sea.  Ever\nafterwards he lived at home.  He became an excellent farmer, and saved\nmoney.  He lived to a good old age, and left behind a numerous family,\nwho were as distinguished for their virtue as they were for their\nindustry.  In this world he moreover lived as he wished to die, leaving\nbehind him a pattern of religiousness which his children, and their\nchildren after them, followed.  Thus, while the end of the good captain\nwas happy and peaceful, that of the lord of Dunraven was full of anguish,\nwhile he met with a doom which it is terrible to contemplate.\n\n\n\n\nPARSON JONES,\nAND HIS CONQUESTS OVER THE ARCH-FIEND OF PANDEMONIUM.\n\n\n[The following strange stories of Cambrian life contain not an _ideal_\nbut a _real_ picture of society in days of yore.  For obvious reasons,\nsome of the names of the _dramatis person\u00e6_ are not given, but the family\nof Jones being so large, _the man_ will not be recognised by the\nretention of the name he actually bore.  Further, it is believed that the\nwhole of his relations are dead.  He had two nieces that survived him,\nwho on his death were by no means _young ladies_.  They then quitted\nWales, never more to return.  One more word only need be added, namely,\nthat Mr. Jones\u2019s fame as a preacher was universal, and the belief that he\nhad power over Satan was firmly entertained by all, though he himself\nrepudiated the possession of such power.  Mr. Jones lived to nearly a\nhundred years of age, and died about thirty years ago.]\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nHail! all hail! to thee, thou illustrious dead!  Though thy spirit has\nlong since left the regions of earth, and has passed into the _Gwlad\nwell_, yet thy memory is fresh and green, and thy deeds of charity, thy\nunassuming piety, thy faithful preaching of the Cross, thy example of\nsaintly resignation, as well as thy holy sanctitude, still live in the\nhearts and memories of those who were privileged to listen, sabbath after\nsabbath, to the glorious truths which fell from thy lips, and who,\nmoreover, were permitted to gaze upon and witness the holy ripening of\nthy nature for a bright and a glorious immortality.  Of thee might it be\ntruly said, that thy enemies were few, and thy friends and well-wishers\nlegion.  The reason of this was obvious.  While others laboured for\nearthly honour and a perishable renown, the aspiration and desire of thy\nsoul was to do the work of Him in whose armour thou wast clothed, and to\nbe recognised, and honoured, and acknowledged of thy Father at the\nJudgment of the Great Day.  Thy departure to that better land was to thee\na happy departure.  On thy spirit leaving its tabernacle of clay, it took\nits flight, amid the songs of angelic choirs, to that world wherein the\nLamb shall ever lead it to perennial springs and fountains of\nblessedness, and where every tear shall be wiped away by the Redeemer.\nBut though the change to thee was a welcome one, oh, how _un_welcome was\nit to thy sorrowing children on earth, who were left behind in the\nwilderness!  Though many, many years have passed away since the day of\nthy departure to join the choirs above, during which I have mixed much\nwith the busy world,\u2014have seen the upheaving of peoples, revolution\nfollowing revolution, and have witnessed parts of Europe deluged with the\nblood of some of its best and most patriotic sons,\u2014yet I well remember,\nas if it were but as yesterday, the sorrowful tidings of thy death, when\nall joined in saying, \u201cThat a prince and a great man had that day fallen\nin Israel.\u201d  Nevertheless, amid our pensive sorrow and grief, which\nalmost rent many a stout heart; all were yet cheered and solaced with the\nthought, that though the dark cloud of the future obscured our vision,\npreventing our beholding the face of the dear departed, nevertheless he\nwas reposing joyfully in the eternal sunshine, and reclining on the bosom\nof his Lord.\n\nNow, though Parson Jones was a good and holy man, yet young and old, rich\nand poor, the youth in his teens as well as those over whose heads\nseventy summers had passed, not only admitted, but actually declared,\nthat he was a strange mortal.  His life and character were to them an\nenigma.  While the outward\u2014the rational man\u2014was clear and plain, yet the\ninner life\u2014the hidden and mysterious workings of the intellectual and\nspiritual man\u2014was above their comprehension and beyond their ken.  Though\nthey owned that their beloved pastor held communion with Heaven, yet many\naffirmed, and positively believed, that he had constant intercourse with\nthe Evil One.  Though they devoutly entertained the opinion that he held\nuninterrupted converse with Him who was the desire of all nations, yet\nthey clung to the opinion that he had fellowship with him who reigns over\nthe abode of woe.  While they believed that their dear friend possessed\nthat faith by which mountains are removed, and by means of which the\nrolling and angry billows are hushed into calm repose on the bosom of the\nvast and mighty deep, nevertheless, the tale went from cottage to\ncottage, and from hamlet to hamlet, and was told and retold, with deep\nseriousness, in high and in low places, that Parson Jones could raise and\nlay the devil.  And if legions of ministering angels hovered round his\npath, imparting to him comfort, solace, and joy, it was almost\nuniversally believed that he had consultations with the grim spirits of\nthe nethermost regions.  Hence they concluded that he was not only\nall-powerful with Heaven, but that Satan himself, with all his servants\nand allies, would fly at his bidding.  In consequence of this belief,\nParson Jones had, at his parsonage, a constant succession of visitors.\nIf the busy housewife was unsuccessful in her churning, Parson Jones must\nbe at once consulted, as he only, in the vicinity, had power to break the\nspell, and drive to their place those evil spirits which interfered with\nthe beneficial operations of mankind.  If the farmer found his cattle\nailing, of course the good parson\u2019s advice was at once sought, which in\nall case was readily obtained, the belief being that he only in that\nneighbourhood could counteract and overcome the evil influence of the\nwitches, who, by their malevolence and wicked arts, sought to bring\ndestruction and ruin upon him and his household.  Again, if a house in\nthe locality were haunted, the sleepers being awakened from their\nslumbers of the night by unearthly cries, by groans and terrible noises,\nwe need hardly say the good vicar was sent for; and after one of his\nvisits, the simple-hearted people of the troubled dwelling believed, and\npositively affirmed, that he had put his imperial Satanic majesty in his\nsnuff-box!  And from that night their home was never disturbed by the\npresence of a spiritual visitor, and they congratulated themselves on\nhaving permanently got rid of the disturber of their peace and repose,\nfeeling certain that the possessor of the snuff-box would see to it that\nthe lid would be kept securely fastened.  These acts of Parson Jones were\nnot done in a corner; hence the news of his victory over the Evil One\nspread far and wide; but while a few gave no credence to the tales that\nwere told, yet the people\u2014the masses, both rich and poor, the wise and\nthe unlearned\u2014believed in the stories which were told of the good vicar\u2019s\ndoings.\n\nAs my father\u2019s residence was adjacent to the vicarage, as he and the\nworthy parson were sworn friends, and as the latter had a strong personal\nliking to me, as also a deep interest in my future welfare and prospects,\nI having on several occasions acquainted him with my strong aversion to\nmy father\u2019s pursuits, and that I intended to seek my fortune in the wide,\nwide world\u2014these and other matters brought me into frequent contact with\nour common friend, at whose house I was a constant and ever welcome\nvisitor.  There was, however, another reason why I was so often found at\nhis hospitable dwelling, which, in passing, I will just mention.  From my\nearliest school days I had imbibed a strong thirst for knowledge, while\nthe sciences of astronomy, algebra, Euclid, and trigonometry, had for me\npeculiar, and I might add, fascinating charms.  In pursuing those\nstudies, however, I often met with difficulties, which, unaided, and\nwithout the assistance of a teacher, I failed to overcome.  The good\nparson being well informed of my pursuits, and being anxious to render me\nall the assistance in his power, arranged that I was to spend every\nMonday evening at his residence, where, in his study, he would quietly\nexplain the problems and calculations I had failed to solve.  As a\nteacher he was so successful that, after going quietly over my\ncalculations, and explaining where I had gone wrong, he invariably\nmanaged to make the whole matter as clear to my perception as that two\nand two make four.\n\nMr. Jones was deeply read in the science of astronomy, and on his\nperceiving that I was weekly making considerable progress in a science he\nso deeply loved,\u2014a science, too, which he regarded as more sublime than\nany other, inasmuch as it proclaimed the power, the wisdom, and the\ngreatness of Him who binds the sweet influences of the Pleiades and\nloosens the bands of Orion, who can bring forth Mazzaroth in his season\nand guides Arcturus with his sons,\u2014it was no wonder, considering the\nidentity of our common feeling and inclination, that I became a nightly\nvisitor at the parsonage.  During those visits I learned much respecting\nother branches of knowledge with which, previously, I was but little\nacquainted.  Thus, wide fields of human knowledge appeared to open before\nme, the possession of which was the deep aspiration of my soul.\n\nBut I must own that my visits to the parsonage afforded me an interest\nbeyond that of scientific and literary pursuits.  Night after night there\nwere other visitors at the good man\u2019s house, who came there to tell tales\nabout apparitions, ghosts, the doings of the witches, and the various\nforms in which his imperial majesty of Pandemonium had appeared to them.\nTo these marvellous stories I always listened with deep interest, as from\nmy youngest days I had been taught by my nurse to believe in the\nexistence of ghosts.  The people of the neighbourhood believed that the\nparson had power over the evil spirits when they troubled men, hence the\nreason of his assistance having been so frequently sought.  Many a tale I\nhave heard in the vicar\u2019s little study; but for the present I shall only\nrecord the following strange stories.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nIt was a stormy night in the month of January, when I was with Mr. Jones\nin his study.  After sitting there some time, over a problem in the Sixth\nBook of Euclid, the door gently opened, and in walked Mrs. Lloyd, the\nwife of a neighbouring farmer, who, at the request of Mr. Jones, took a\nseat by the fire.  When she entered the room I observed that she was\ndeeply agitated, the cause of which we soon learnt.  As soon as she had\nwarmed herself and dried her garments, my friend and benefactor, in the\nkindest possible way, asked the reason of her having come out on so\nstormy and so boisterous a night.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m kum to see yoo, Mr. Jones,\u201d she said, \u201cand to tell yoo the sad\ncalamity which has happened at our house.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope Mr. Lloyd is not ill?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no, parson; leastwise he was well in body when I left whome, but\nsorely troubled in mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter, my good friend?\u201d inquired Mr. Jones.\n\n\u201cOh, sir! it\u2019s too dreadful.  I kunna tell yoo.  I s\u2019pose I must, for I\u2019m\nkum here on purpose.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnless you tell me the cause of your trouble, ma\u2019am, I cannot give you\nadvice.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know, parson, Moll McGee, of Cwmdu, dunna yoo?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, ma\u2019am; I know that person very well.\u201d\n\n\u201cYoo know, dunna yoo, Mr. Jones, that she\u2019s a witch.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is so reported, Mrs. Lloyd; but you must not believe all you hear.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, yoo do know very well she\u2019s a real witch, so dunna yoo deny it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no personal knowledge of the fact, ma\u2019am,\u201d replied the good\nparson; \u201cI have always found her a harmless and inoffensive woman, though\nsome persons say she has put her mark on certain families.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should think she has, indeed; so dunna yoo think she ought to be\nhanged and quartered, and her body and bones, and her heart and liver,\nburned by the common hangman, for causing so much trouble and loss to\npoor and innocent folks?\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely she has not paid you a visit, has she?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe ha, though; and, what is worse, she has spoiled a beautiful churning\nof milk, and killed our pony, which Lloyd was offered thirty pounds for\nat last May fair.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sorry to hear this of Mrs. McGee,\u201d observed Mr. Jones; \u201cbut, my\ndear madam, when and how did this happen?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen my daughter Mary was churning on Wednesday morning, who should kum\nup to the dairy door but Moll the witch.  She sez, sez she, \u2018Will you\ngive me some buttermilk, Mrs. Lloyd?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018No,\u2019 sez I; \u2018I\u2019ve no buttermilk to spare.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018But yoo must,\u2019 sez she, \u2018give me some.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I have sed the word, Mrs. McGee, that I\u2019ve none to spare; and if I had,\nyou shudna have any.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Why?\u2019 sez she.\n\n\u201c\u2018Why,\u2019 sez I; \u2018because yoo are a bad woman.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You had better give me som,\u2019 sez she agen; \u2018for if you won\u2019t it \u2019ul be\nthe worse for yoo.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018What will yoo do, Mary?\u2019 sez I.\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019ll mark yore cattle,\u2019 sez she, \u2018and I\u2019ll _leave_ the mark there too,\nfor your hard-heartedness.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Then,\u2019 replied I, \u2018I won\u2019t give yoo milk.  Yoo\u2019ll witch my things, will\nyoo?  Do thy worst Moll,\u2019 sez I, \u2018for I dunna fear thee.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Then,\u2019 sez she, \u2018may yur milk never turn into butter, may yur cows\ncease to give yoo milk, and may yoo find some of yur beasts in the black\nquarry before another week\u2019s gone, and may the curse of Mary of the Black\nDingle ever follow yoo and yours.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe old hag, when she finished her curse, turned upon her heel, and in a\nmoment afterwards my daughter and me saw her going through the gate in\nthe form of a large black monkey.  After she left, we continued to churn\naway with all our might and main, but the butter wouldna come, and since\nthat day the cows have refused to give us any milk.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what about the pony, Mrs. Lloyd?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I had almost forgotten to tell yoo about that.  Well, last night, as\nLloyd was coming whome from the fields, he saw a black monkey on the back\nof the pony.  The brute was urging the poor creature forward by sticking\nher devilish claws in the pony\u2019s side.  And will yoo believe it\u2014God ha\u2019\nmercy upon us! for we live in strange times,\u2014the monkey drove the pony\nstraight for the quarry.  Lloyd saw her fall over the rock, and running\nup to the edge of the quarry, saw the poor creature dashed to atoms at\nthe bottom, and Moll standing by grinning.  But p\u2019raps yoo wunna believe\nthe truth of my story, but it is as true as I\u2019m a Christian woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, Mrs. Lloyd,\u201d replied Mr. Jones with great firmness, \u201cI don\u2019t\nbelieve that Mary McGee, or any mortal, possesses the power which you\nevidently believe she does possess.  Heaven has not delegated to sinful\nmortal, nor even to any of His creatures, power to inflict injury\naffecting life or limb upon any of the creatures He has made, and by\nwhose power and goodness they are sustained.\u201d\n\n\u201cYoo are a learned man, and I\u2019m no scholard, tho\u2019 I kun read my Bible,\nthank God! and that book tells me that evil spirits did enter into man\nand beast; and parson, yoo cunna make me believe that the arch-fiend has\nnot entered into the heart of that woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! don\u2019t, I beseech you, my friend, give too much credence to idle\ntales and silly talk; and pray don\u2019t believe that she is the real cause\nof, and the instrument by which, this affliction has come upon you.  If\nyou were to sift thoroughly the evidence respecting Mary\u2019s malpractices,\nyou would discover, in the end, that the whole is based upon hearsay, and\non the inventions of persons who might have fancied it possible for such\nthings to exist.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Jones, Mr. Jones,\u201d replied Mrs. Lloyd, \u201cthese tales are not idle\ninvention; I wish they was.  But as true as God made Llandegley Rocks,\nand I s\u2019pose He made them, my cows wanna give no milk, and the cream\nwunna turn to butter, churn as much as we will; and it\u2019s a fact \u2019bout the\nold hag and our pony, as Lloyd witnessed the whole matter.  I believe,\nand Lloyd believes, and my daughter believes it too, that our calamities\nare the result of the evil influences of this witch, who has been\npractising upon our creatures her infernal and malignant arts.  I have\nnow told you my tale, parson, and I want your advice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you wish me to do, Mrs. Lloyd?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sir! there is only one thing yoo can do.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that, my friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that, yoo ask?  Ye know very well.  Why, break the spell, to be\nsure.  Until that\u2019s done we shall neither have butter nor milk, and then\nhow shall we be able to pay our rent?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, ma\u2019am, I don\u2019t see how I can assist you.  Oh, I do wish you\nwould not place any faith in this woman\u2019s power.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cunna help it, Mr. Jones.  But I do believe this, that yoo can master\nher, and yoo only.  I know yoo have power over these evil spirits and\nwitches, but especially over Moll McGee.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you think so, ma\u2019am?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d replied Mrs. Lloyd, \u201cshe\u2019s afeared of yoo.  Indeed, she said she\nwas afeared of yoo; and no wonder, for we know very well that yoo can\nmaster her master\u2014the great fiend himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray, Mrs. Lloyd,\u201d remarked the vicar, \u201cdon\u2019t for a moment entertain the\nbelief that such power belongeth to man, nor that I, one of the most\nsinful of God\u2019s creatures, have authority over the ruler of darkness.\nHowever, as your cattle are afflicted, I will step up in the morning, and\nexamine them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so thankful to yoo, Misther Jones, for your kindness.  I shall now\ngo whome with a lighter heart than I came, for I know you will break the\nwitch\u2019s spell.\u201d\n\nI thought Mr. Jones would give her a lecture about her faith in his\npower.  However, for this she waited not; for on securing his promise she\nrose from her chair, and took her departure, wishing us both a hearty\ngood-night.\n\nIn about a quarter of an hour after Mrs. Lloyd had left, who should walk\ninto the study but Mrs. McGee, who took possession of Mrs. Lloyd\u2019s seat\nwithout any invitation from the vicar.  When she had made herself\ncomfortable before the blazing fire of wood on the hearth, Mr. Jones\naddressed her:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhy are you out so late to-night, Molly?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve come to speak with you on business.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it is rather late for business now.  Why did you not come earlier?\u201d\n\n\u201cI couldn\u2019t do so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause Mrs. Lloyd had not visited you till to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what had her visit to do with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEverything; \u2019cause she come to tell you a tale \u2019bout me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear, Molly, she has a very just cause of complaint, against you\nespecially, if reports be true.\u201d\n\n\u201cBad luck to her, and all she has, Mr. Jones!\u201d\n\n\u201cWithdraw that word this moment, Molly; or,\u201d his piercing eye being fixed\non the woman, which appeared to enter her soul, \u201cI must use my power\u2014that\nis, I must request you to leave my house this instant.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut don\u2019t you think she was a hard-hearted woman not to give a poor body\na dhrop of buttermilk?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t say that, Molly; but if she be hard-hearted, there is no reason\nwhy any one should wish her ill.  I must, therefore, insist on your\nwithdrawing your wish.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I do so, Mister Jones, it wonnot be for her, but for your sake, who\nhas always been kind to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have spoken like a sensible woman, Molly.  I have one more request\nto make, Mrs. McGee; that is, promise me you won\u2019t go near Mrs. Lloyd\nagain.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear-a-me, you are a strange mon, parson.  Between you an\u2019 me and the\npost, I\u2019ve no wish to go near the likes of her, as she has no pity on a\npoor starving woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you have now promised me not to go near Mrs. Lloyd, just go into the\nkitchen and get some supper, and make haste home, for it is getting\nlate.\u201d\n\nWhen Mrs. McGee left us, I also left to depart.  On the ensuing afternoon\nI was informed, that before daylight next morning, Mr. Jones, before the\nfamily were up, had paid a visit to Mrs. Lloyd\u2019s cow-house, and had given\nto each beast a small ball made up of herbs.  When these were swallowed\nthe cattle appeared scarcely able to contain themselves for delight.  Mr.\nJones saw by their appearance that his medicine (?) had proved\nsuccessful; so calling up the family, he informed them that the spell was\nbroken.  The cows no longer refused to give milk, and Mrs. Lloyd even\ndeclared that it was superior in quality to what she previously had.\nSubsequently, she experienced no difficulty in her churning operations.\nThe fame of Mr. Jones spread, in consequence, far and wide, and,\nunfortunately for his own peace and comfort, applications to him for\nassistance, when the witches had afflicted man or beast, became\nincessant.\n\n\n\nPARSON JONES\u2019S TALE OF NAT THE SMITH AND THE THREE WISHES.\n\n\nIt was a dreary night in the month of December when there sat in the\nchimney-corner of the Jolly Fiddler\u2014which, as you know, is the chief\npublic-house in the little village of Nantglyn\u2014Nat the smith.  Nat, as\nyou are aware, is a real good fellow, and a hard-working man, but,\nunfortunately, he is terribly fond of his beer.  I have been told that he\nhas spent a little fortune at the Jolly Fiddler, and I can well believe\nit, for he pays nightly visits to the house, which he never leaves until\nhe has had two quarts of ale; and I fear that latterly he has not\nconfined himself to that quantity.  However, I am anticipating this part\nof my story, and must first narrate, as succinctly as possible, the\nincidents of Nat\u2019s life during the past seven years.  Besides, I am\nanxious to finish telling you the story to-night, though I am not sure I\ncan complete it, as there is a gap in the history of my friend Nat which\nhas not yet been made up.  With the above remarks by way of introduction,\nwe will now go back to the dreary night of December already alluded to.\n\nAfter Nat had sat for some time in the chimney-corner at the Jolly\nFiddler, he called out to the landlord,\u2014\n\n\u201cAnother quart, Bill; and mind it\u2019s from the barrel in the corner.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Nat,\u201d replied the landlord; \u201cyou shall ha\u2019 a quart of the\nbest.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s the sixpence, Bill,\u201d said Nat, when the ale was placed before him\non the table; \u201cand, upon my soul, I\u2019ve not another copper left.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind about the money, Nat; I\u2019ll trust you for as much as you like\nto drink.\u201d\n\n\u201cThee knows, Will, I never allow scoring for beer.  Ready money or no\nale, is my motto.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd a good motto it is, Nat.  Oh, I wish all my customers was like you;\nfor if they was, I should have no fear of being marched off to Lunnun\n(London) to be whitewashed.\u201d  (A provincialism implying the passing the\nBankruptcy Court.)\n\n\u201cThere is no danger of me going up there, Will,\u201d rejoined Nat.  \u201c\u2019Cause\nwhy, no one will trust me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDunna thee say that, Nat; for thee knows very well that I\u2019ll trust\nthee.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrust or no trust, Will, here goes,\u201d and putting the jug of foaming ale\nto his mouth he drank a good draught; and then smacking his lips, said,\n\u201cUpon my word, this is the real \u2018cwrw da.\u2019  A quart of this is worth a\ngallon of the last brewing.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it ought to be, Nat; for I put four bushels of best malt to this\nbarrel in the corner.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s no mistake, Bill, about its strength; and between us, as old\nfriends, my only fear is that I shall not be able to get my fair\nallowance of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! of that you need not be afraid, Nat; \u2019cause why, I only give this\nbeer to my constant and my very best customers, and\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cOf which I am one, I s\u2019pose you was going to say.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd if I had said so, Nat, I should ha\u2019 spoken the literal truth.\u201d\n\nDuring the above conversation a gentleman, unperceived by the landlord\nand his best customer, entered the kitchen of the Jolly Fiddler.  He was\nclad in a suit of black, over which he wore a long cloak of invisible\ngreen, the bottom of which trailed on the ground.  He had on his head a\nfelt wideawake, which was so inclined in front that his eyes were not\nperceptible, while the rest of his face was shut from view by an immense\nquantity of long, smooth, glossy hair, which descended over and below his\nshoulders.  He had entered the kitchen of the Jolly Fiddler silently, and\ntaking up a position between the door and chimney-corner in which the\nsmith was sitting, and at the landlord\u2019s back, his presence was\nunperceived by both.  On that spot he had stood during the conversation\nbetween Nat and Bill, to which he had listened with great attention.\nWhen the landlord turned away from his friend Nat, to attend to the\nduties of his house, he was astonished to find the presence of the\nstranger, whose strange appearance struck him with awe, and his tongue\nclove to the roof of his mouth.  However he summoned up his courage, and\ntaking a slanting direction, he escaped through a side door into the\nlittle back parlour of the inn.\n\nNat was not a spectator of this scene.  When Will left him, he took his\nquart of ale in his hand, and composing himself in the chimney corner, he\nsat there, intently watching the glowing wood-fire before him.  There he\nsat, now and then sipping his ale, as professed wine-drinkers sip their\nport, remarking to himself, after each succeeding draught, \u201cThis is\ncapital stuff! it warms the cockles of one\u2019s heart as it goes down; but,\npoor me! when, oh when, shall I have sixpence in my pocket to buy another\nquart?  Oh, it\u2019s a sad thing to be poor in this rich land of plenty!\nIt\u2019s not right for me and my class to starve for good ale, when our\nwealthy neighbours have their cellars full, and plenty of gold to buy\nmore.  If I was rich, the poor man should never want for a pint or a jug\nof the real \u2018cwrw da.\u2019  Ah, me! I sha\u2019 never be rich.  I\u2019m born to be\npoor, and to labour as them sparks fly up the chimney.  It\u2019s sad, very\nsad, and heart-breaking, to have an empty pocket when one\u2019s soul is\nthirsty.\u201d\n\nNat sat thus musing and talking to himself for nearly half an hour.  At\nlast he finished his ale, and then, taking his stick in his hand, rose to\ngo home.  There was no one in the kitchen now.  Nat thought this very\nstrange, as Bill was generally about; but he fancied, as he rose to\ndepart, that he saw the shadow of a human form on the wall.  Of this he\ntook no particular notice at the time; but, on listening to Will\u2019s story\nthe following day, Nat felt that the supposed shadow was a terrible\nreality.\n\nNat left the inn with a heavy heart.  It is true he had had his quart of\ngood ale, but he thought that, as work was slack, he would have\nconsiderable difficulty \u201cin raising the wind\u201d for several days, and this\naffliction had a depressing influence on his spirits.  At last he reached\nthe little wicket gate leading from the highway to his cottage; but on\nhis opening it, he was awe-struck on seeing coming from his house along\nthe garden-path, a gentleman clad in deep mourning.  As there was\nsomething in the appearance of the gentleman Nat did not like, he\nattempted to avoid him by leaving the path free; but when Nat turned out\nof the path the figure turned too, and came up, meeting the smith face to\nface, and addressed him thus:\u2014\n\n\u201cYou are rather late to-night, Mr. Smith.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I be late, sir,\u201d retorted Nat, \u201cI do not see it\u2019s any business of\nyours.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be angry with me, friend, I meant no harm, for my object in\nmeeting you here is to afford you help and counsel.\u201d\n\n\u201cI need, sir, no man\u2019s help,\u201d replied Nat; \u201cand when I require advice\nI\u2019ll seek it at the house of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, friend Vulcan, I can give you the help which no _man_ can.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive it then, sir, to those who seek; as for me I desire it not.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are poor, friend, and penniless.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is poverty, sir, a crime?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no, friend, poverty is not a crime; but you must own, Mr. Smith, that\nan empty pocket is very inconvenient for a thirsty soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you know, sir, that my pocket\u2019s empty?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy knowledge of the fact, friend, is derived from your own confession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, sir, I never confessed to you, \u2019cause why, I never saw you before.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak truly on that point, friend Vulcan; nevertheless, I must tell\nyou I heard your confession to-night at the Jolly Fiddler.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not see you there, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps not.  I was there, notwithstanding; and I heard you declaring to\nWill, the landlord, that you then parted with the last sixpence.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I\u2019ve spent all, sir, I can work and earn more.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sir, you can work: but I know you do not like work; and if you will\ncomply with my wishes, you shall have all you require without working\nanother hour.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your wish, sir, and the nature of your service?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you, Mr. Vulcan, in a few words.  But, first, let me say\nthat I take a deep interest in you, and am supremely anxious to promote\nyour welfare.  Now, if you will consent to become my son, at the\nexpiration of seven years from this hour, I will grant you any three\nthings you might desire, whatever they may be.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll do what, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll grant you any three things\u2014riches, wealth, possessions, or anything\nelse.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd for these benefits, what do you require from me?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll I require, Mr. Nat, is that, at the expiration of seven years, you\nwill acknowledge me as your master.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, sir,\u2014that is, I don\u2019t know what to say to your proposal.  Now\nI\u2019m a free man, and I\u2019d rather be my own master than be the slave of\nanother.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, friend, when you have plenty of money you will be your own master,\nand besides, with a full pocket you can drink as much as you like of\nWill\u2019s best beer.  I shall guarantee in the bond your pockets shall be\nalways full.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow night, if you will meet me, I will give you an answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow, friend, it will be too late.  Your decision must be now or\nnever.  If you desire a merry and a jolly life, having a full pocket and\nplenty of good ale, sign this bond, which read for yourself.\u201d\n\nNat took the document from the hand of the stranger, which he carefully\nread twice over.  When completing its second perusal, he remarked that it\nappeared all right, though not wholly satisfactory as it contained no\nsentence _securing the blessings_ for which he had to wish _during the\nseven years_.\n\n\u201cWill it be satisfactory to you then, friend, if words to that effect are\nadded?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir,\u201d replied Nat.\n\nThe stranger then wrote upon the bond the words Nat desired should be\nadded, and presenting it to the smith, he at once signed the document,\nwhen, on its being done, the stranger vanished out of his sight, leaving\nNat there in darkness and alone.  However, he ultimately found the door\nof his cottage, and, on entering, went at once to bed.\n\nIt was noon on the succeeding morning before Nat awoke.  He had, like all\nbeer and spirit drinkers, slept himself sober.  When he was aroused from\nhis slumbers, he began to think over the previous night\u2019s scene, and,\nstep by step, he was at last able to trace the whole of his doings from\nthe time he left home until his return, and then he fully realized his\npresent position.  The sad fact that he had sold himself body and soul to\nthe arch-fiend was now a terrible reality.  \u201cI have been a fool, and no\nmistake,\u201d said he to himself; \u201cbut what\u2019s done can\u2019t be helped.  Here is\nthe bond, the conditions of which I\u2019m bound to carry out.\u201d  He then got\nup, and dressed himself, and going downstairs, he found his dinner, which\nconsisted of potatoes and milk, on the table.  After partaking of a\nportion of the dinner his too-indulgent wife had prepared for him,\naddressing his faithful Betsy he unconsciously exclaimed:\n\n\u201cI wish, old girl, we had fried bacon with the potatoes.\u201d\n\nNo sooner had the words escaped his lips than there appeared before him\non the little round table a plateful of savoury bacon, on which he was so\nenraged with his own want of prudence, that he wished it and its contents\nunder the grate, when it was removed thither by some invisible hand.\nNat, on witnessing this, foamed with passion, and danced and cursed and\nswore like one possessed with the evil one.  He carried on his ravings\nfor some time to the astonishment of his wife, as she could not divine\nthe cause of his strange conduct; and amid one of his fits of rage he\nexclaimed, \u201cOh, that I had a jug of Will\u2019s best beer, for my mouth and my\ntongue are on fire!\u201d  In a moment the foaming ale was placed on the\ntable, and Nat swallowed it at a single draught.  When he placed the\nempty jug on the table, he said, addressing his wife:\n\n\u201cO Betsy! what a fool I\u2019ve been.  I was promised riches, possessions, and\nhonours, if I\u2019d do a particular thing, but my only reward is a jug of\nale.\u201d\n\nFrom that day Nat was an altered man.  He ceased his visits to the Jolly\nFiddler.  Occasionally he was to be found in his shop, but more\nfrequently he might be seen walking up and down the mountain-side alone,\nwith an air of pensive sadness on his brow.  As years rolled on he became\nmore dejected and depressed in spirits, the cause of which was known to\nno mortal.  He did not even tell his wife the terrible secret of his\nunhappiness.  Years and years passed on with this heavy load on his\nheart.  At last it came to the very day but one when he had to fulfil the\ncondition of the bond.  Why or wherefore I do not know, but the thought\nstruck him about me, and thinking, perhaps, that I could afford him some\nlittle aid, he started off yesterday morning, and he spent several hours\nwith me here last night.  He told me the whole of his tale, and when he\nhad completed its recital, I said to him very kindly, but firmly,\u2014\n\n\u201cYou have done, my friend, a very wicked thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cO sir, I know I have; but my heart is so depressed, pray do not,\ntherefore, upbraid me now, but try and afford me some assistance.\u201d\n\n\u201cI really can\u2019t see my way to help you, especially as your enemy is so\nsubtle.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, my dear pastor, I think you can break the net in which he has\ncaught me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is only one way of defeating him, Nat; that way is, by prayer and\nsupplication for Divine help and guidance when the hour of your doom\ncomes.\u201d\n\n\u201cO sir, I have poured out my whole soul to my Redeemer, but I\u2019ve received\nno answer to my prayer.\u201d\n\n\u201cRelief, Nat, may yet come.  Oh, don\u2019t cease in your petitions to the\nthrone of mercy.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m terribly afraid, sir, that my sins are so black, there is no hope\nfor me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhile there is life, friend, there is hope; and even yet, at the\neleventh hour, a way of escape may be opened to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHeaven be praised if there be, sir; but this bond is too explicit in\nterms, and he who holds the counterpart is too exacting, for me to hope\nfor an escape.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have the bond, then, Nat?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir! here it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you received the benefits of its conditions?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe only benefit I received was one jug of beer.  As for the bacon, that\nwas devoured by the flames.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a line, which appears as an afterthought, added to the bond,\nnamely, guaranteeing the security of the blessings wished for during a\nperiod of seven years.  Do you now say, Nat, that you have not\nparticipated in the benefits of the wishes during the seven years?\u201d\n\n\u201cI declare, sir, in the most solemn manner, that the only benefit I had\nwas the jug of ale already referred to.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Nat, I think I can help you out of your difficulty, and I will pray\nHeaven to succour and assist you in the terrible encounter awaiting you.\nBut to insure success you must observe to the letter my directions.  Will\nyou promise me?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost solemnly I promise to obey you to the letter.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must fulfil your engagement with the enemy, and if he insists on\nyour carrying out the condition of the bond, then tell him to his face\nthat you will not do so, unless he will first carry out _his_ conditions\nabout the seven years.  If he refuses, then demand another wish, and as\nyou have received no benefit from the previous ones, he will, I think,\nconcede the point.  If so, then let your wish be that something terrible\nmight happen to him.\u201d\n\nNow, said the parson to me, I can proceed no further with my tale.  Every\nmoment I am anxiously waiting news, or the return of Nat.  If he comes\nyou shall hear the rest of the story from his own lips,\u2014whereupon Nat\nentered, and throwing up his hat to the top of the room, cried out, \u201cHe\nis conquered! he is conquered!  Hurrah for Parson Jones!  Hurrah for the\ngood Vicar of Llan! before whom both witches and devils flee.\u201d  At last\nNat became calm and composed, when he proceeded to complete the tale,\nwhich I tell in his own words:\u2014\n\n\u201cI met the old chap at the appointed time and place, when he produced the\nbond, and asked me if I was ready to accompany him.\n\n\u201cI said, said I, \u2018Not yet, my lord.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Why?\u2019 said he.\n\n\u201c\u2018Because,\u2019 said I, \u2018you have not fulfilled the conditions of the bond.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018In what have I failed?\u2019 asked he.\n\n\u201c\u2018In this,\u2019 said I, \u2018I was, by the bond, to enjoy the blessings for seven\nyears, and I\u2019ve had only one jug of beer.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018But that was your fault,\u2019 said he.\n\n\u201c\u2018Whether it be my fault or not,\u2019 said I, \u2018I will not come with you\nunless you fulfil your conditions.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I will not wait for you another seven years,\u2019 said he; \u2018but I will\npermit your having one more wish.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You\u2019ll do what?\u2019 said I.\n\n\u201c\u2018I will grant you the privilege of one more wish.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You really will?\u2019 said I.\n\n\u201c\u2018Yes; but, mind, my only reason for granting it,\u2019 said he, \u2018is that you\nappear to feel that I have taken an advantage of you.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Well, then,\u2019 said I, \u2018I wish you on the back of your fiery dragon; and,\nthen, that the dragon carry you straight to Llynfan, and that you both be\ndrowned in that lake, and never appear to disturb me more.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhen I had finished my wish there was a terrible clap of thunder, which\nshook the earth beneath me to its very foundation, and it was followed by\na vivid flash of lightning which lit up the whole mountain; and, looking\nacross the valley, I then saw both the dragon and its rider disappear in\nthat fathomless llyn.  When I saw this I dropped down upon the cold\nground, and then poured forth my heart\u2019s thanksgivings to Him who had\nwrought me, through you, my dear pastor, so great, so glorious a\nvictory.\u201d\n\n                       [Picture: Pont Aberglaslyn]\n\n\n\n\nCADWGAN WYNN;\nOR THE\nLOST INHERITANCE REGAINED.\n\n\n    Fled are the fairy views of hill and dale;\n    Sublimely throned on the steep mountain brow.\n    Stern nature frowns: her desolating rage\n    Driving the whirlwind, or swoln flood, or blast\n    Of fiery air imprisoned, from their base\n    Has wildly hurled the uplifted rocks around\n    The gloomy pass, where Aberglaslyn\u2019s arch\n    Yawns o\u2019er the torrent.  The disjointed crags\n    O\u2019er the steep precipice in fragments vast\n    Impending, to the astonished mind recall\n    The fabled horrors by demoniac force\n    Of Lapland wizards wrought; who, borne upon\n    The whirlwind\u2019s wing, what time the vex\u00e8d sea\n    Dashed \u2019gainst Norwegia\u2019s cliffs, to solid mass\n    Turned the swoln billows, and the o\u2019erhanging waves\n    Fixed e\u2019er they fell.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n_SHADE AND LIGHT\u2014SORROW\u2014BUT HOPE IN SORROW_.\n\n\nIn the enchanting vale below Pont Aberglaslyn there stood, many many\nyears ago, a small villa, which at the time of which we write was covered\nover with ivy.  Surrounding this beautiful rural retreat were gardens and\npleasure grounds, which were designed and laid out with great artistic\ntaste and skill in the arrangement of walks, shrubs, rose-trees, flowers,\nand evergreens.\n\nAt the time our story commences, the villa was occupied by a gentleman\nwhose family had seen better days; but, through the prodigality of\nancestors and the vast sums they had squandered in horse-racing,\ncock-fighting, and gambling, the rent-roll of their estate which\napproached \u00a312,000 a year, now scarcely reached a hundredth part of that\nsum after the interest had been paid.  Indeed, when the then owner came\ninto possession of his patrimony on the death of his father, his net\nincome barely reached \u00a36 a week.  On discovering his pecuniary position,\nhe felt he could no longer afford to occupy the family mansion, and like\na wise man he prudently resolved to leave it, and remove to the villa we\nhave already described.  During the residence of the family at the old\nHall, Mrs. Wynn\u2014that being the name of the family\u2014left her household\naffairs to her servants, who unfortunately paid but little regard to\ndomestic economy.  However, when she took up her residence in her new\nabode she wisely undertook the chief management of her household; while\nMr. Wynn devoted his time to the cultivation of the garden and\nsuperintending the education of his son and daughter.  Both proved apt\nlearners; what they learned they remembered.  Whatever book they read,\nthey retained its contents in their singularly retentive memories.  In\npursuing their studies, fortunately they had this great advantage in\ntheir favour,\u2014namely, that their parent was a ripe scholar and an eminent\nman of letters, while as a teacher he possessed abilities of the highest\norder.  Having such an instructor, no wonder his beloved pupils made such\nrapid progress.  After teaching them thoroughly the rudiments, Mr. Wynn\nled on his children step by step to higher grounds; but in all his\nlessons he sought to instil into their young minds a strong and\npassionate desire, a longing thirst, for knowledge, the possession of\nwhich had afforded him some of the happiest and the most pleasurable\nhours of his life.  Thus occupied, year after year came and rolled by,\nand each revolving year brought increased happiness to the little family\nof the villa.  Truly did they live in each other\u2019s love.\n\nWhen their son Cadwgan had attained his fifteenth year, his sister\nGwenfan being two years younger, their father was on one Saturday called\naway to the ancient town of Carnarvon, in order to transact some special\nbusiness with the family solicitor.  When he left home in the morning he\npromised to return the same evening, but though his wife and children\nwaited his return until midnight, he came not.  At last, sick and weary\nat heart, they retired to rest; but during the remainder of the night\nthey were not roused by his well-known knock at the hall-door.  Early on\nthe ensuing Sabbath morning, a special messenger arrived at the villa\nfrom Carnarvon, with the sorrowful intelligence that Squire Wynn had been\nseized with a virulent attack of small-pox, a disease which was then\nfearfully raging in the town and neighbourhood, and the messenger urged\nMrs. Wynn to hasten to the bedside of her husband, if she desired to see\nhim alive.  With an aching heart she kissed and bade adieu to her son and\ndaughter, and hastened to the bedside of the almost lifeless form of him\nwho had ever been the light of her eyes and the joy of her heart.  She\nsaw at the first glance that the hour of his departure had come.  She\nthrew herself on the bed by his side, when he tenderly embraced her,\nsaying, \u201cHeaven bless you, my angel!\u201d and then pointing his finger\nupwards, \u201cMeet me there, and bring our dear ones with you.\u201d  He then\nheaved a deep sigh, and his spirit took its flight to the _gwlad well_\n(the better land).  Before that day\u2019s sun had descended into the western\nsea, Mrs. Wynn was attacked with the same fatal malady; and before the\ndawn of the following morning, her gentle and loving spirit had fled its\nearthly tabernacle for the land of eternal and ethereal joy.  Thus were\ntheir children bereft of both father and mother in a single day, and\nbefore they were made acquainted with the terrible loss they had\nsustained, the forms they loved so well had been placed in the same tomb.\n\nTo the children the Monday and Tuesday following were days of anxious\nthought.  No tidings had reached them of the sad event that had happened.\nIt was late on Tuesday evening that a kind friend arrived from the\nsolicitor bringing the sad intelligence of their parents\u2019 decease.  They\nwere overwhelmed with sorrow on account of their loss.  Days and days\nelapsed before they could realize their position.  At last they were\npainfully impressed with the fact that they were alone in the world.  No\nloving word now, in welcome and joyous voice, greeted them on entering\ntheir home.  The arm-chair in which their father sat evening after\nevening, when he was used to tell them tales of years that had gone, and\nthe couch on which their mother reclined before retiring to her bedroom,\nwere both unoccupied.  The sudden death of both, taken in connection with\nthe responsibilities of the present and their anxieties pertaining to the\nfuture, nearly broke their young and tender hearts.  But they sorrowed\nnot as those who had no hope.  From childhood they had been taught to\nlove the dear Name which is above every name, and confident of His\nfavour, and with full reliance on the promise that He would be a father\nto the fatherless, their gentle spirits became calm and peaceful.\nMoreover, they looked forward to a bright immortality, when they would\njoin those whom their souls loved.  Thus, as day after day came and\ndeparted, they became more resigned to their lot.  Their griefs were\nassuaged by night voices from the world above.  Often, in the evening\ntwilight, they heard whispers from the spirits of the dear departed ones.\nAnd the spirits said, after a few more years of toil, of labour, of\nsorrow, of anxiety and trouble, you will come up hither, and then you\nshall mingle your voices with ours, in praising Him, who has washed us\nfrom our sins in His own blood.  That day there will be a joyous reunion\nin this spirit world where parting is no more.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n_AN INHERITANCE LOST_, _BUT A FRIEND FOUND_.\n\n\n\u201cIs not this a lovely April morning?\u201d remarked Cadwgan to his sister, as\nthey walked hand-in-hand across the lawn.\n\n\u201cIt is, indeed, a most lovely morning, brother.  And is not the scene\naround most enchanting?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou, Gwenfan, have always been a great admirer of the spring.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you, dear Cadwgan, have been its enthusiastic admirer.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have loved it, my dear sister, because it is the season of the year\nwhen nature puts on its most joyous apparel.  The trees and flowers, the\nhedgerows and forests, the cornfields and meads, all all are decked in\ntheir green robes.  When spring comes, after the deathlike appearance of\nwinter with its cold and chilling air, nature springs into new life; the\ntrees send forth their green leaves, the rose its blossom, the meadows\nput on their usual dress, and Nature appears to say to all, Come, come,\nand behold my triumphant resurrection from the death of winter.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd does not the animal creation, my brother, participate in the glories\nof spring?\u201d\n\n\u201cSister, oh, do listen to the joyous melody of the skylark, and see, see\nhow he mounts higher and higher, and sings as he ascends!  From yon\nthorny bush don\u2019t you hear the blackbird\u2019s sweet notes? while the mellow\nbullfinch answers those notes from yonder sylvan grove.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is love, my dearest brother, that creates this music; all this waste\nof melody is the heavenly voice of sweetest love.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t say, my dear sister, that this melody is wasted.  Music is never\nwasted when there are people listening to its soothing and joyous\nstrains.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut people, Cadwgan, do not always give ear to the charming voices of\nthese winged songsters.  And are there not hundreds, and perhaps\nthousands, who fail to appreciate, who are never moved by, their\nenchanting notes?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat there are persons, my wise sister, who listen unmoved to the melody\nof birds, I would be the last to deny; but is there not an equally large\nnumber of persons who see no beauty in verdant glades, in the bubbling\ncrystal fountain, in the rippling streamlet, and in the flowers as they\nopen their petals to draw in the morning dewdrop?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you have referred to flowers, come, dear Cadwgan, and look at my\nsmiling blushing roses.  Oh, they look so lovely!  Exquisitely beautiful\nare they, and their perfume fills the morning air with the most delicious\nfragrance.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are, my dear Gwenfan, most beautiful; but pray tell me the secret\nof your success in training them to so great a perfection.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I can explain in a few words.  I have nursed them well.  I have\npaid them as much attention as I have paid to my birds, and I love them\nalmost as much,\u2014don\u2019t I, pretty, smiling, blushing roses?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be hard for you to part with this lovely dwelling, won\u2019t it,\nGwenfan; especially as it is endeared to us by so many happy and hallowed\nassociations?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we shan\u2019t leave here, brother; shall we?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am afraid we shall be obliged to do so, sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am so sorry to hear you say so.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sorry too, to break the news to you.  The thought of leaving our\ndear home almost breaks my heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cI had hoped, Cadwgan, never to say adieu to the abode of our beloved\nparents, though the void created by our sad bereavement can never be\nfilled up.  But, if we must leave, whither shall we go?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt present, my darling sister, I know not where we shall have to pitch\nour tent; but our heavenly Father, in His good providence, will, if we\ntrust Him, provide for us a shelter.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do love and trust Him, my dear brother; but, oh, at this moment, the\nfuture appears to me dark and beamless.  I fail to see even a fringe of\nthe cloud with a silver lining.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut if we look to the light, our future may still be bright and joyous;\nas will be the appearance of yonder vale when the dark cloud you see up\nthere passes away.  In a few minutes this sylvan dell will be lighted up\nby the golden beams of the morning sun.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook, brother, look!  The cloud is rapidly moving on its journey.  The\nrays of the king of day will soon fall upon and penetrate both woodland\nand brake, warming and cheering the dwellers in mossy beds and grassy\nmounds, imparting hope and joy to all.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo may it be with us, dear Gwenfan.  When we least expect aid from on\nhigh, that aid comes, and at once the darkness and gloom are chased\naway.\u201d\n\nBut here his sister called her brother\u2019s attention to a lady driving a\npony carriage.  \u201cI declare,\u201d she said, \u201cthe lady is coming to the villa.\nSee! see! her servant has opened the entrance gate at the bottom of the\nlawn.  Oh, who can she be?  Do you expect any one to visit us, brother?\u201d\n\n\u201cI expect no one, but hope that she may be a messenger of good, not of\nevil; a harbinger of comfort, and not the bearer of bad tidings and thus\nincrease our affliction and sorrow.  Our cup of grief is already full and\noverflowing.\u201d\n\nAs the carriage approached nearer to the villa, the children saw that its\noccupant was clad in deep mourning, and that she resembled some one whom\nthey well knew, but whom they could not at the moment recollect.\nPresently, the carriage was driven up to the door, and the lady inquired\nof the orphans if the house was called Bryn Villa, and if they were the\nchildren of Mr. and Mrs. Wynn.\n\n\u201cI am, madam, their son,\u201d replied Cadwgan, \u201cand this is my sister\nGwenfan.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I presume to ask the name of the lady who takes care of you?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have no one taking care of us, madam,\u201d replied Gwenfan.  \u201cI look\nafter my brother, and he looks after me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut have you no one with you,\u2014no grown up person in charge of the house,\nand in charge of its management?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have only a maid-servant in the house, ma\u2019am,\u201d answered the brother;\n\u201cand she has been with us since we were little ones.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are then, my dears, left alone in the world.  Unless I have been\nmisinformed, you have lost both parents.\u201d\n\n\u201cBoth are dead, ma\u2019am,\u201d answered Gwenfan, weeping; \u201cand neither my\nbrother nor I am aware of having a single relative living.\u201d\n\n\u201cHad not your papa a sister?\u201d inquired the lady.\n\n\u201cWe never heard dear papa speak of a sister, or any relative,\u201d answered\nCadwgan.\n\n\u201cDear me, sir, that is certainly very strange; because I happen to know\nof his having a sister, whom he loved very dearly.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf her, ma\u2019am,\u201d replied the youth, \u201cpapa never spoke.  I remember\nhearing him say, he had no one left in the world to care for, except dear\nmamma and us.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the present we will say no more on the subject.  But having driven\nmany a long mile, my dears, since the morning, and still having a long\njourney before me, I must claim your hospitality for food for my servant\nand pony.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are heartily welcome, ma\u2019am, to partake of the best our house can\nafford,\u201d replied the children.  \u201cYour servant will perhaps drive the pony\ninto the yard, and he will find there our man servant who will attend to\nhis wants.\u201d\n\nThe lady then descended from her phaeton, and was conducted by the\nchildren into the house.  During the time refreshments were being\nprepared she made a minute inspection of the parlour.  When she had\nthoroughly surveyed it, and was about to take a rest on the sofa, she saw\nwhat appeared to be a picture, but the likeness was shut from view by a\ncurtain of green baize which hung over and covered both the picture and\nframe.  The lady\u2019s curiosity was aroused, but just then she heard the\nfootsteps of the servant and the children in the passage; but before they\nentered the room, she had succeeded in drawing aside the baize, and had a\nglimpse of the likeness beneath.  When the children entered they\nperceived that the lady appeared slightly agitated, though, necessarily,\nthey were wholly ignorant of its cause.\n\nDuring the time she was engaged in partaking of the refreshments which\nhad been provided her, she talked and chatted away on all manner of\ntopics, but studiously avoided making any allusion to herself.  She asked\nthe children many questions about people in the neighbourhood,\nparticularly about Mrs. Jones, of the Glen; her sons and daughters, if\nthey were all married, and did they reside in the locality.  She\nspecially asked if young Squire Jones were still a bachelor.\n\nThe children gave their visitor an account of the several families she\ninquired for, and informed her that Mr. Jones was still single, that he\nresided at the Glen, and had succeeded to his uncle\u2019s property, which\nbrought in some \u00a312,000 a year.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n\u201cAnd you never heard, my dears, your papa mentioning relatives either\nliving or dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, we don\u2019t recollect our papa making any allusion to relatives,\nexcept,\u201d said Cadwgan, \u201con one occasion, when he said to mamma, \u2018I am\nafraid she is dead; for were she alive she would certainly write to us.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI know, my dears, to whom he referred, and think I can satisfy you that\nshe is not dead, but still lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cAny information, ma\u2019am,\u201d replied the youth, \u201cwith which you can furnish\nus will place us under deep obligations to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you, my dears, ever seen the picture under the green baize?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, ma\u2019am.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you don\u2019t know whose likeness it is?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, ma\u2019am,\u201d replied the brother and sister, \u201cwe don\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, my dears,\u201d\u2014removing the covering,\u2014\u201ctell me if you have ever\nseen any one like that portrait.\u201d\n\nFor a moment the children hesitated; and after looking first at the\nportrait and then at the lady, said, \u201cThe picture, ma\u2019am, is very like\nyou; or you resemble the portrait.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are quite right, my loves.  Your dear papa was my brother, and you,\nmy dears, are my nephew and niece.  Come to my arms, and be assured that,\nas far as I can, I will make up for the loss you have sustained.  I will\nlove you deeply, fondly, ardently; and for my brother\u2019s sake, and that of\nyour kind, gentle, and loving mother, who was as dear to me as my dear\nsister Gwenfan, who was the light and joy of our homes, and for your own\nsakes, I will be your guide, your friend, your counsellor and stay.\u201d\n\nIn a moment the children were locked in the tender and loving embrace of\ntheir aunt.  They all wept, though their sorrows were mixed with joy.  To\nsome extent the discovery thus made relieved the sadness and gloom of the\nhour.  In the hour of gloom, when aid was least expected, a comforter had\nbeen found.  But upon this scene we must not dwell.  Their aunt was a\nwoman of action, and rest with her was impossible until she had\nthoroughly mastered the children\u2019s affairs.  Hence, as soon as she and\nher pony had had refreshment and an hour\u2019s rest, she, with her niece and\nnephew, started off for Carnarvon to see the family solicitor, and from\nthat gentleman learnt that the old family estate of the Wynns was\nmortgaged to its full value, and that the mortgagee had now given notice\nto foreclose unless the sum borrowed was repaid within a month.  \u201cTo do\nthis,\u201d said the solicitor, \u201cis, I fear, impossible, because the amount\nborrowed\u2014\u00a380,000\u2014is so large that in these times there are but few\ncapitalists who have it at their command.\u201d  He then gave it as his\ndeliberate opinion that the best thing was for the mortgagee to sell, and\nif he realized a sum beyond the encumbrance, it might be invested for the\njoint use of the children.\n\nThis advice was acted upon by the aunt and orphans.  A few weeks after\nthis conversation, Wynn Castle and its domain and estate were sold by\nauction, the fortunate purchaser being a London merchant of great wealth,\nwho during the first three years of its possession expended on\nimprovements \u00a320,000.\n\nWhen the affairs of Wynn Castle were all arranged, Cadwgan resolved to\nseek his fortune in the wide wide world.  His aunt and sister did their\nbest to dissuade him from leaving home, but he turned a deaf ear to their\narguments and entreaties.  At last they reluctantly acquiesced, and it\nwas finally arranged that his aunt and sister were to remain at the Villa\n(this house and grounds forming no part of the Wynn Castle estate), the\nformer promising to supply as far as she was able the void which death\nhad created.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n_THE WIDE WORLD_.\n\n\nIt was a beautiful summer morning when Cadwgan departed from the home of\nhis love, the place endeared to him by so many happy associations.  The\nparting scene between him and his sister was most painful.  From\nchildhood they had not been separate from each other a single day.\nGwenfan\u2019s love for her brother was deep, ardent, and tender.  Every want\nof his she anticipated, while she paid the minutest attention to his\nfeelings, even in small and trivial matters.  To part with her only\nbrother was indeed a sore trial; but she now felt she could no longer\nresist his wishes, though the thought almost broke her heart.  Then\nCadwgan\u2019s grief was equally intense.  He however felt that duty called\nhim away; and somehow there came into his soul a conviction that a day\nmight come when fortune would smile upon him, and on that day his sister\nwould bless him for having forsaken the joys of home with its smiles and\nsunshine, in obedience to what he regarded as a solemn duty.  At last he\ntore himself away from his sister\u2019s and aunt\u2019s tender and affectionate\ncaresses, leaving the home of his childhood; and before the sun was up,\ngrand old Snowdon, with its circumjacent hills and mountain-tops, had\ndisappeared from his view.  However, he lingered not on his journey, but\nwhen the last old friend of his youth had disappeared he put on new\nspeed, resolving to arrive at the metropolis of England and the world\nbefore the end of the following week.\n\nWe shall not attempt to describe the journey and the incidents which\noccurred by the way.  Suffice it to say, that in due course he reached\nthe great city, and during the first few days after his arrival he\nwandered from street to street, traversing its parks, alleys, and great\nthoroughfares; and during those days\u2019 wanderings he saw much of the busy\nscenes of city life, especially those places where merchant princes most\ndo congregate.\n\nAfter being in London about a week, faint, weary and worn, hungry and\nfootsore, he sat down one evening in one of the recesses of London\nBridge, and wept.  Though thousands passed by not a soul took any notice\nof the sorrowing and weeping boy.  As the shades of night began to fall\nfaster and faster on the scene, the bridge became less crowded, and as\nthe evening advanced, became almost deserted.  The poor youth now thought\nseriously on his lonely and forlorn condition.  To procure a bed was\nalmost impossible, as he knew not where to go; and even if he did know,\nhe could ill afford to spare two shillings\u2014the sum his landlord had\ncharged him the previous evening\u2014because his little purse was nearly\nempty.  When the few shillings which remained were gone, he saw no\nprospect before him but hunger and starvation, which he now considered\nwould be his inevitable fate.  He now repented of his somewhat rash act\nof leaving home before consulting with some one as to the best course he\nshould pursue.  But his repentance was too late.  He placed himself in\nthe hand of his heavenly Father, and prayed to Him for help and guidance.\nThat prayer brought peace to his troubled spirit.\n\nIt was a beautiful and balmy summer night, and he asked himself the\nquestion, why could he not make himself quite comfortable there for a\nsingle night?  Having resolved to sleep there for one night at least, he\nat once commenced to arrange his pillow, which consisted of his carpet\nbag.  Having placed the bag on the ledge between the parapet and the\nfootpath, he lay down to sleep.  Just as he was about to close his eyes a\ngentleman came up, and stepping on the ledge close to the youth\u2019s bag,\nlooked over the parapet on the ebbing tide below.  Having remained in\nthat position a few minutes, he turned round for the purpose of\ndescending to the regular path in order to continue his journey, but in\nhis descent he saw the youth apparently asleep.  He gazed on his\ncountenance for a few moments, and said,\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing there, my child, this time of night?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope, sir,\u201d replied Cadwgan, \u201cthat my sleeping here for a night will\nnot be wrong.  I\u2019m not in the way of any one, sir, and I won\u2019t do any\nmischief.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut have you no other place to go to, my child?  You can procure a bed\nsomewhere, can\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI might possibly do so, sir, but I can\u2019t well spare the money to pay for\na night\u2019s lodgings.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut have you no friends or relations in town, my boy, to whom you could\napply for assistance?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve no friends in London, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cI presume you have relations in the country who are in a position to aid\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve a sister, sir, but she is nearly three hundred miles from here.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere did you come from, my child?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom Wales, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs Wales your home\u2014I mean your native country?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cNorth or South Wales?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe North, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere in North Wales does your sister live?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe lives at Bryn Villa, near Pont Aberglaslyn.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely, your name, my child, is not Wynn, is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is my name, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you are the son of Squire Wynn, of Wynn Castle?\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Wynn was my father.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how is that dear good man?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father and mother, sir, are both dead.  I have no one left to care\nfor me but my sister, except my aunt.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am truly sorry to hear tidings so sad.  What is your aunt\u2019s name?\u201d\n\n\u201cHer name is Gwenfan Wynn, which is the name of my sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut are you not in error in calling her Wynn?  I heard she got married\nsome years ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy aunt was never married.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you sure of that, my child?\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite sure, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou greatly surprise me.  I was given to understand she married a Scotch\ngentleman, many, many years ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe did leave home with the intention of being married to a Mr. McDonel,\nbut finding, fortunately before it was too late, that the representations\nhe made of himself about his property, estate, and high connections, were\nall false, she broke off the match, and not wishing to return home then,\nwhen she would probably be subjected to perhaps unkind observations, took\na situation in a nobleman\u2019s family then about to visit Italy, with whom\nshe has lived until within the last few weeks.  The family only recently\nreturned to England, and on the evening after their arrival, my aunt saw\nin the _Times_ the announcement of my parents\u2019 death.  She immediately\nleft London, and came to us in Wales.  She is now with my dear sister\nacting as her guardian and friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank you, my child, for your information.  You must now accompany me\nto my residence.  You shall not want for a home and a friend as long as\nOwen Jones lives.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, sir, I do not wish, nor can I consent, to live on charity.  I\u2019ve\ncome up to London to work for my bread, and if Heaven smiles on my\nefforts I shall attain an honourable independency.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs to your future plans, my child, more anon.  For the present my home\nmust and shall be yours.  When you have recovered from the fatigue of\nyour journey, I will endeavour to obtain for you a situation in some\nrespectable mercantile house.  You must in the meantime be my guest.  I\nhope happy days are in store for you.\u201d\n\nThe youth then rose from his couch (Mr. Jones had, during the above\nconversation, been sitting on the ledge of the parapet by his side), but\nwhen he attempted to move he almost fell down from exhaustion.  His newly\nfound friend, who had intended to have walked home, hailed a coach, which\nsoon arrived at his house, which was a semi-detached villa, in Brixton.\n\nOn their arrival, Mr. Jones introduced the youth to his wife and only\ndaughter.  The former on being informed who he was, welcomed him with\naffectionate cordiality.  Mrs. Jones had known his father and mother\nyears ago, she being a native of a village but a few miles from Wynn\nCastle.\n\nIn his new home Cadwgan spent an exceedingly pleasant evening.  He had to\nanswer a thousand questions about people and families who resided in the\nvicinity of his far distant home among the mountains.  At last he was\npermitted to retire to his room, and having had no sound sleep for\nseveral nights, and being weary and tired, was soon asleep.  He awoke in\nthe morning feeling he was almost a new man.\n\nAt breakfast, Mr. Jones asked the youth what kind of employment would\nbest meet his wishes.\n\n\u201cI am indifferent, sir, as to the kind of situation; my object and most\nanxious desire is to earn my living by hard work.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am extremely sorry, my young friend, that I have no vacancy for a\nyoung gentleman of your talents and education in my establishment.\nHowever, in the course of a few days I hope to succeed in procuring you a\nsituation in one of the great city houses.  In the meantime you are my\nguest.  My wife and daughter shall take you out during the day, in order\nto show you the lions of this great city; but in the evenings they must\nnot monopolize your whole attention, as I have much to say to you and\nmany inquiries to make about dear old friends in old Cambria, which has\nbeen to us a good and kind mother.\u201d  Then turning to his wife he\nsaid,\u2014\u201cBe sure to take particular care of our young visitor, and don\u2019t\nfail to bring him back without injury to health or limb.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou need be under no apprehension on that point, Owen,\u201d answered Mrs.\nJones.  \u201cNo harm shall befall him when under my charge.  I shall guard\nhim from harm as if he were one of my own children.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no doubt you will, wife.  I must now leave you.  I hope you will\nspend a very pleasant day.\u201d\n\nMr. Jones then left, and proceeded to his house of business; but during\nhis walk he thought, not of mercantile transaction or of his dear old\nnative land, oh, no: his thoughts were wholly occupied with the adventure\nof the previous evening.\n\nSoon after the departure of Mr. Jones, his wife and daughter and young\nWynn started off for the purpose of seeing some of the wonders of London,\nbut the day closed before they saw one hundredth part of its glories.\nDay after day they continued to drive about from one part of the\nmetropolis to another, and during these excursions Cadwgan had acquired a\npretty accurate knowledge of the geography of London.\n\nWhen at dinner on the following Sunday, Mr. Jones informed his young\nvisitor of his having at last succeeded in procuring for him a situation\nas clerk in the old established house of Messrs. Davies, Roberts &\nCompany, the celebrated tea merchants, and that he was to commence his\nduties on the following Monday.  This information was exceedingly\ncheering to the youth, as the certainty of employment was now assured.\nNot wishing to be under obligation to his friends longer than he could\npossibly help, he expressed a wish to procure lodgings in some\nrespectable family at once, and asked Mr. Jones if he knew of any place\nin the neighbourhood likely to suit him.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll talk on that matter, my boy, another time,\u201d replied Mr. Jones.\n\u201cFor the present, at least, you must remain with us.  If you do leave us\nin the way you propose, remember, be your stay in London long or short,\nyou must consider our house your home.  Before you can possibly make any\narrangements you must first see if the situation will suit you; whether\nyour employers like you, and you like them.  If you give them\nsatisfaction, and your position is likely to be permanent, why then we\nwill, if you wish, permit you to leave us; and I\u2019ve no doubt but that\nMrs. Jones and my daughter will find you comfortable apartments.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, sir, I\u2019m in your hands.  You have overpowered me with kindness\nwhich I shall never be able to repay.  When hungry, weary, and helpless,\nwhen friendless and without a ray of hope, you came to me as an angel of\nmercy, you took me into your house, and during my residence under your\nhospitable roof, Mrs. Jones and you have treated me as if I were your\nchild.  To you I shall always feel grateful; and come what may, your\nimage will ever repose in my heart of hearts.\u201d\n\n\u201cTut, tut! my boy, our kindness is nothing.  If we have succeeded in\nmaking you happy, and in giving you a start in life, is not that a\nsufficient reward?  But our little attention requites in a very small\ndegree the obligations which I am under to your noble father\u2019s family.  I\nam still their debtor to an amount I shall never be able to repay.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n_THE VICTORY OF INNOCENCE_.\n\n\nThe establishment of Messrs. Davies, Roberts & Company, was situated in\none of those narrow streets, and was one of those dark and dingy-looking\nbuildings, which were far from being uncommon in old London.  The\npremises, however, were large and commodious, and were specially adapted\nfor their important trade.  When Cadwgan saw it for the first time,\nnamely, on the morning succeeding the conversation between Mr. Jones and\nhimself recorded in the previous chapter, he was painfully struck with\nthe contrast it presented with his own light and airy home, surrounded as\nthat home was by rich fields of pasture land and trees of every kind and\nhue.  However, he was by no means disheartened, and was far from disposed\nto give up the contest in life\u2019s battle without a struggle, so he entered\nthe building with his friend Mr. Jones cheerfully, and presently was\nasked into the presence of Mr. Roberts, the head of the firm.\n\n\u201cAnd this is the young gentleman you spoke to me about, friend Jones?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.  Mr. Cadwgan Wynn.  I hope for the sake of our common country and\nour friendship, that you will not be unmindful of his interest.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis progress here, friend Jones, will depend wholly upon himself.  If he\nprove himself quick, painstaking, and honest, he shall not want a\nfriend.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis honesty and rectitude I will guarantee; and methinks as he comes\nfrom a shrewd stock, he will, with a few years\u2019 experience, prove a\nvaluable hand,\u2014one whom it will be difficult for you to do without.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware, Jones, that I can fully rely on your recommendation.  Now,\nMr. Wynn, when will you be ready to go into harness?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am prepared, sir, to commence my duties at once.  If convenient for\nyou to make arrangements, I\u2019ll remain here to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy all means remain.  Come, follow me, and I will introduce you to Mr.\nMcLiver, our chief cashier, in whose department you will be engaged for\nthe present.\u201d\n\nMr. McLiver was a Scotchman, who had been in the service of the firm many\nyears.  From almost the lowest place, he had risen step by step until he\nattained the most important post in the house.  In him the firm had\nunbounded confidence, and as he apparently managed his department with\nskill and economy Mr. Roberts permitted him to select nearly the whole of\nthe clerks attached thereto.  In less than two years from the date of his\nappointment to his present post he had managed, by hook or by crook, to\nget rid of nearly the whole of the old hands, and their places he\nsupplied with Scotchmen of his own kith and kin.  From the first day of\nentering the office, Mr. McLiver regarded Cadwgan as an intruder, an\ninterloper; hence he looked upon the youth with aversion, and availed\nhimself of every opportunity to vex and annoy him.  But this was not all.\nAny little mistake Mr. Wynn might make in his books or accounts, was\ncarried to Mr. Roberts.  But to these complaints he turned a deaf ear,\nwhile at the same time he strictly enjoined upon Mr. McLiver to take all\npossible care to have Cadwgan thoroughly instructed in all business\nmatters; above all, that he should be made a good accountant.  Though the\nScotchman faithfully promised to carry out to the letter his employer\u2019s\ninstructions, yet he intentionally refrained from doing so; while he\ncontinued to annoy the youth by making personal allusions to his country,\nand on more than one occasion he called him a Welsh blockhead.  Of his\nconduct Cadwgan never made any complaint, nor did he make the slightest\nallusion to it, even to Mr. Jones.  He worked on, was constantly\nlabouring at his books and accounts, and in spite of the cashier he soon\nbecame a first-rate accountant.  Before he had been in the establishment\nfive years, he was the best man in the house as regarded profound\nknowledge of intricate details.\n\nOn the afternoon of the fifth anniversary of his official life, Mr.\nRoberts called Cadwgan into his private office, and expressed to him the\nhigh opinion he had formed of his ability and character; and to his great\nsurprise informed him that being about to rearrange the work of the\noffice, he had resolved to divide the office work into sections, and that\nit was his (Mr. Roberts\u2019) intention and wish that he should take the\nposition of chief accountant in the establishment, and that there would\nbe a number of clerks under him; that for the future Mr. McLiver would\nsimply receive moneys due to the firm, and pay all demands against it,\nbut all accounts must pass through the hands of the accountants, which\nshould bear the chief\u2019s signature as being correct.\n\nCadwgan\u2019s eyes filled with tears on being apprized of his promotion to so\nimportant a post, and he thanked Mr. Roberts from his heart of hearts for\nhis confidence and kindness.\n\nThe morning on which Mr. Wynn was to commence his new duties, Mr. McLiver\nrepaired to Mr. Roberts\u2019 private office, where he found that gentleman\noccupying his usual seat, engaged in reading the money article of that\nmorning\u2019s _Times_.  Addressing that gentleman in a somewhat peremptory\nmanner, he said he had just stepped in to ask if it was really true that\nthe young Welshman was to be placed in such an important and responsible\nposition in the establishment.\n\n\u201cIt is quite true, Mr. McLiver.  The appointment has already been made,\nand in the opinion of my son and myself Mr. Wynn has richly earned the\npost assigned him.  We are of opinion that, of all the clerks, he is by\nfar the best qualified to discharge the duties of the office.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut consider, sir, my many years of faithful service in your house.  I\nthink that service merits some consideration from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what is your wish, Mr. McLiver?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy wish, sir, is, that you confer this appointment upon my cousin.  He\nhas been longer in your employ than Wynn, and I am sure he possesses\nability far superior to that of this young man.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is quite impossible, Mr. McLiver.  Mr. Wynn\u2019s appointment has\nalready been made, and he has been duly informed of my resolve.  In fact\nhe has accepted our offer.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case, sir, I fear I must send in my resignation.  I could not\nthink of having my books and accounts overhauled by this intruder.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may leave, sir, if you wish; and I will give you a cheque for your\nquarter\u2019s salary.\u201d\n\n\u201cAm I right then in concluding you have lost confidence in me?  Are you\ndesirous that the connection between us be severed?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy no means, sir.  If you leave, it will be your own act and deed.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you wish me to remain in your service?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I do, Mr. McLiver.  But you will bear in mind that all my\narrangements and plans must be carried out to the letter.  There must be\nno divided authority here, so long as I\u2019m master.  I desire you to\nconfine yourself, wholly, to the duties of your department, which require\nyour undivided attention; and I will be answerable for the proper\ndischarge of the duties of the new accountant\u2019s office.\u201d\n\n\u201cI bow to your decision, Mr. Roberts, and hope you will not have any\ncause to regret the arrangements you have made.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf that, sir, time will tell.  You, Mr. McLiver, will not have to make\nup my loss.\u201d\n\nMcLiver, finding it was useless to press the matter further, wished his\nchief good morning, and returned to his own office in a very bad humour.\n\nOn entering, he uttered the most awful imprecations against Welshmen in\ngeneral, and Mr. Wynn in particular.  He swore that he would be revenged.\nHe turned to his cousin, and thus addressed him:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is owing to you, you d\u2014d scoundrel, that I owe my present disgrace.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo me, sir!  What the d\u2014l do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean, Donald, that if you had been steady and honest and plodding,\nthis calamity would not have befallen our clan.\u201d\n\n\u201cA fellow must have a spree, McLiver, now and then.  That is human\nnature.\u201d\n\n\u201cD\u2014n human nature!  Donald, you talk like a fool.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry for you, cousin.  I\u2019m truly sorry for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a d\u2014d bad job for me, that you have indulged in dissipation to the\nextent you have.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut old Roberts has paid the piper, Mac, though he little suspects it.\nHe is little aware where the money comes from to keep up your grand\nestablishment.  If he knew all wouldn\u2019t there be a jolly blow up!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou son of paupers, you parish \u2019prentice, if you talk to me in that way\nI\u2019ll knock your b\u2014y head off your shoulders, by G\u2014d I\u2019ll do it, though\nyou be my father\u2019s brother\u2019s son.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come, cousin; it won\u2019t do for thee and me to quarrel and fall out\nnow.  We\u2019ve sailed too long in the same boat\u2014I mean, we\u2019ve dipped our\nfingers too deeply in the same till to peach upon each other, or to\nquarrel.  Methinks our present duty is to guard against being found out.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour advice is good, Donald; but that our delinquencies will come to the\nknowledge of old Roberts, d\u2014n him, is a matter of certainty.  That young\nWelsh nincompoop imp has his eyes everywhere; his ears are always open.\nI should not be at all surprised even if our present talk reached him.\nFor us it was an evil day when he came here.  If I were sure of not being\nfound out, I\u2019d soon put an end to his presence.\u201d\n\n\u201cBad as I am, cousin, I\u2019d not commit murder.  That we must not do.  Our\nbest plan is to concoct some scheme to dethrone this upstart.  Old\nRoberts has willed he should reign over us; be it our mission to bring\nhim to the dust.\u201d\n\n\u201cA good suggestion, Donald.  By gam! we must take care, though, to lay\nthe snare well so as to be certain of our bird.\u201d\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nDuring several months succeeding the above conversation the business of\nthe house of Davies, Roberts & Company went on in its usual quiet way,\nbut in those months the young Welshman and his staff had succeeded in\noverhauling the books of the firm for several years.  At the accounts\nthey had worked night and day.  When the investigation had been completed\nhis clerks knew nothing about the result, nor indeed of the object which\nthey had in view in making so strict an investigation.  So far Mr. Wynn\nhad discovered defalcations amounting to nearly \u00a320,000, though the\nbottom of the peculation had not yet been reached.  The books showed that\nMcLiver had carried on his swindling in a regularly systematic manner,\nand had escaped detection for the reason that all his subordinates, which\nmade up nearly the whole staff, were creatures of his own\u2014principally his\nown kith and kin.  When Cadwgan had completed his labours, he had\nascertained, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the amount abstracted was\n\u00a324,500.  During the months he had been engaged in auditing the books,\nCadwgan had made certain inquiries of houses with which his employers had\nhad business transactions, so he was in a position to prove by written\nevidence the particulars and the exact sum of each fraudulent\ntransaction.  These inquiries had been carried on privately; neither to\nMr. Roberts, nor to any member of his staff, had he let fall a word\ncalculated to awaken suspicion.  It was late on a Saturday night when\nCadwgan finished his labours.  When descending from his office down to\nthe large entrance hall, with his papers in his hand, he was surprised to\nfind Mr. McLiver and his cousin Donald there.  They did not stop to\nspeak, but passed on into their own office.  As they heard Mr. Wynn,\nbefore he descended, shut his office door and lock it, they naturally\nconcluded he was the last person in the buildings.  Presently, McLiver\nand Donald left the house together, the porter closing the door on their\ndescending into the street.\n\nThat evening was anxiously spent by Mr. Wynn.  He retired to rest late,\nbut slept not.  That the facts he possessed would be most damaging to his\narch-enemy there could be no doubt; that he might possibly be the means\nof saving his employers from being ruined, was in his judgment equally\ncertain.\n\nOn the following Sunday morning Cadwgan paid a visit to his friend Mr.\nOwen Jones, to whom he revealed the state of affairs of the firm.  Mr.\nJones was a man of the world, and, moreover, was a wise and sagacious man\nof business.  After talking over the matter, it was arranged that Mr.\nJones should accompany his young friend to the establishment of Messrs.\nDavies, Roberts & Company the next morning, when the whole facts should\nbe placed before Mr. Roberts.\n\nOn their arrival at the establishment on Monday morning, Mr. Jones and\nCadwgan at once went to Mr. Roberts\u2019 private office, when that gentleman\nlooked at Mr. Wynn with a hard and scowling brow.  As Mr. Jones had\nalways experienced the greatest kindness from Mr. Roberts (they had been\nmore like brothers than friends), he was surprised and astonished in\nobserving his altered look, and boldly asked the cause of his seeming\ndispleasure.\n\n\u201cCause, sir!\u201d exclaimed Mr. Roberts.  \u201cDid you say cause!  There is\nmethinks enough of cause!  To be robbed of \u00a33000 by this young man, whom\nyou introduced to me, for whom I have done so much, whose interest and\nwelfare I have done so much to promote\u2014\u2019tis enough to make me curse the\nday on which I was weak and foolish enough to comply with your pressing\nrequest to take him into my service.  Cause, indeed!  To be robbed thus\nis a sufficient cause for my anger.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you say, sir,\u201d remarked Cadwgan, \u201cthat I had robbed you of \u00a33000?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, I said so.  And you don\u2019t deny it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI emphatically deny your charge, sir, and demand the name of my\naccuser.\u201d\n\n\u201cI accuse you, sir.  Is not that enough?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Mr. Roberts, you are a just man, and I presume you will not condemn\nme before placing in my possession the evidence upon which your judgment\nrests.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy informant, sir, is my confidential clerk, Mr. McLiver.  He is\nprepared to swear to the fact of your being the robber, and his cousin\nDonald will corroborate his statement.\u201d\n\nMcLiver was then summoned by Mr. Roberts; and in reply to his inquiries\nstated, that on the previous Saturday evening he and his cousin had\nsecreted themselves in the house, that during the time they were in their\nhiding-place Mr. Wynn came down from his own room and went into the\ncashier\u2019s office, and by means of false keys opened the safe and rifled\nthe drawers of their contents, which he put into a bag, then retired.  He\ncontinued to say, that he and his cousin waited there some time, that Mr.\nWynn went back to his own office, and afterwards came down stairs with\nthe bag in his hand, which was so heavy that he was almost weighed down.\nHe left the office taking the bag of gold with him.  Donald corroborated\nhis cousin\u2019s statement.\n\nMr. Jones, as was natural, appeared much excited during the Scotchman\u2019s\nnarrative.  He almost believed in his young friend\u2019s guilt, because the\nevidence was so direct and circumstantial.  Mr. Wynn stood calm and\ncollected; he never moved during the few minutes which the delivery of\nthe evidence against him occupied, though his dark piercing eye, intently\nfixed upon McLiver, made that man quail beneath its penetrating glance.\nWhen they had finished their story, Mr. Wynn asked his employer\u2019s\npermission to call evidence in his favour,\u2014a request which was readily\nacceded to, because he really loved the youth.  He then called into the\noffice, one by one, six of his confidential clerks, the gentlemen who had\nbeen specially engaged with him in investigating the old accounts, who,\nin reply to his question, said that Mr. Wynn never left the office until\nhis final departure, which was very late, and that they watched him going\nout though unperceived.  The care-taker gave evidence that Mr. Wynn did\nnot return after his departure.  When they had completed the evidence,\nMr. McLiver asked, \u201cAnd what were you doing at the office that time of\nnight?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe were engaged in making copies of important documents for Mr. Wynn.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat became of those?\u201d asked Mr. Roberts.\n\n\u201cThey were all put, sir, into Mr. Wynn\u2019s bag.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho put them into the bag?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe did, sir,\u201d replied Mr. Williams.\n\n\u201cWas the bag locked, Mr. Williams?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, it was locked; and the key has been in my possession since.\u201d\n\n\u201cBefore we examine the contents of the bag I wish to know if you are\nquite sure that Mr. Wynn did not leave the office during any portion of\nthe evening, that is, before his final departure; and that you and your\nfellow-clerks saw him out.\u201d\n\nThey replied, that they were prepared to make oath on the point.\n\n\u201cWhy did you watch his departure?\u201d asked Mr. Roberts.\n\n\u201cI had overheard a conversation,\u201d said Mr. Williams, the clerk of Mr.\nWynn\u2019s department, \u201cbetween Mr. McLiver and his cousin Donald, in which\ncertain threatening words were used towards Mr. Wynn.  We watched his\ndeparture, thinking it quite possible that they might be lurking about\nthe buildings in order to effect his ruin.\u201d\n\nWhen McLiver and Donald heard the above evidence they became agitated,\nand their faces became as white as snow.  Mr. Roberts scarcely knew what\nto do.  After considering a few minutes, he turned to McLiver, saying, \u201cI\nfear your tale is untrue; for these six gentlemen, whom I have always\nfound truthful and honourable, have in the most direct manner flatly\ncontradicted you in every particular.  I hope you and your cousin have\nnot conspired to injure this young man.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have hit the right nail on the head this time,\u201d said Mr. Jones, \u201cand\nno mistake.  But is this \u00a33000 the whole of your loss, friend Roberts?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe whole as far as I know.\u201d\n\n\u201cHappy man! what a blessed thing it is to be rich, and unable to reckon\nup the whole of one\u2019s profits.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose, Jones,\u201d remarked Mr. Roberts pettishly, \u201cyou wouldn\u2019t like to\nlose \u00a33000.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am afraid, my friend, you will find your loss not \u00a33000, but nine\ntimes three, if the \u00a33000 has really disappeared.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you really mean, Jones?  You appear to know more of my affairs\nthan I know myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn a few words, I mean to say, Roberts, that that immaculate gentleman,\nthe accuser of my young friend here, who is also the best friend you ever\nhad, has robbed you to the tune of some \u00a325,000, in addition to this\n\u00a33000; for I presume he has taken that sum too; and Mr. Wynn has evidence\nin his bag,\u2014it is still locked,\u2014which will completely substantiate the\nfact.  When you know the whole, you\u2019ll bless the day, friend Roberts, on\nwhich my child was introduced into your establishment.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the present we will suspend our judgment.  Jones, Mr. Wynn, all of\nyou, go to Mr. Wynn\u2019s office.  We will compare Mr. Wynn\u2019s papers with our\nledgers and day books.\u201d  The bag was unlocked, and paper after paper was\nproduced, and document after document submitted for inspection and\ncomparison.  Cadwgan detailed step by step his proceedings in order to\nascertain the exact sum total of the money abstracted by Mr. McLiver and\nDonald.  After he had gone through these, he produced the documents and\nvouchers he had collected from firms with which Messrs. Davies, Roberts &\nCompany had had transactions, and on being compared with the ledger, it\nwas found that in many cases the actual sum paid to merchants for goods\ndid not amount to a moiety of the sum inserted in the ledger.  The\nevidence of McLiver\u2019s guilt was overwhelming.  When Mr. Roberts saw this,\nhe took Mr. Wynn into his arms, embraced him as if he was his own child,\nand with tears in his eyes besought his pardon for having for a moment\nentertained suspicions of his honesty and rectitude.\n\n\u201cThe matter to me is now made plain.  The real culprit is the man whom I\nregarded as upright, pure, and honest.  He has shamefully abused my\nconfidence.  To him I entrusted my money; and what, sir,\u201d turning to\nMcLiver, \u201chave you to say in your defence?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will neither acknowledge nor deny my guilt, sir, in the presence of\nthat Welsh puppy, who is a wolf in sheep\u2019s clothing, a caitiff cut-throat\nmiscreant, a cunning, intriguing, and deceitful urchin from the Welsh\nmountains.  When he meets me and Donald in the street, I promise him he\nshall be well paid for his treachery and circumvention.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is,\u201d said Mr. Roberts, \u201con condition you leave me a free man.  For\nthe present, sir, you must consider yourself and your cousin\u2014I believe\nhim to be equally guilty with yourself\u2014in the hands of the authorities.\nThe officers of justice are now in an adjoining room.  They are there\nawaiting my orders.  There is no occasion to detain them, as your guilt\nis but too clearly made out.\u201d\n\nThe door was then opened, and McLiver and Donald were placed in their\ncharge, and were marched off to prison.\n\nOn the room being cleared of the presence of all excepting Mr. Jones and\nCadwgan, Mr. Roberts asked the latter how he had succeeded in making such\nimportant discoveries, and the reason which had moved him in entering\nupon an investigation which had cost him and his staff so much time and\nlabour.\n\n\u201cFor a long time, sir, I have firmly believed in his dishonesty.  In the\nfirst place, and this fact first awakened my suspicion, I, by means which\nit is unnecessary for me to detail, ascertained that he was keeping a\ngrand house, and had livery servants and carriages, and gave grand\nparties, which I knew he could not do with \u00a3400 a year.  His cousin,\nDonald, is a fast young man who spent his earnings in dissipation, and\nfor years has been the constant companion of young men who are believed\nto live by swindling their respective employers.  On making these\ndiscoveries, Mr. Sykes, who is an honest Yorkshireman, and my friend Mr.\nWilliams, resolved to take special notice of their movements, and wisely\nkept records of what they saw and heard, which could at any time be\nproduced in the event of anything turning up.  We discovered first, that\ntea had been bought by your house of a very inferior quality, which was\npaid for at double the actual invoice price, and in some cases the charge\nwas sixty per cent above the actual cost.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Mr. Wynn, how did he manage this?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, easily enough, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe found by inquiry, that McLiver had two relatives as cashiers in the\nhouses with which you did business; and as all moneys passed through\ntheir hands, they could commit frauds to almost any extent without fear\nof being detected.  They had confederates, so by acting together had but\nlittle difficulty in carrying out their system of plunder, especially as\nthe books and accounts were under their control.  When you made your new\narrangements, they, that is, Mr. McLiver and Donald, were apprehensive\nthat disclosures would be made, and you will remember, sir, that McLiver\nalmost protested against your scheme.\u201d\n\n\u201cI well remember, Mr. Wynn, that he was terribly angry, but little did I\nthen think that its cause originated in fear.\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter the appointment had been made, and we had entered upon our duties,\nMr. Sykes ascertained\u2014in short he overheard a conversation between the\ntwo in which certain threats were made towards me, and in that\nconversation McLiver and Donald upbraided each other about their\npeculation.  We had thus sufficient evidence to warrant us in concluding\nthat they had robbed you.  Having discovered this, we then planned the\ninvestigation, which has occupied our evenings ever since.  It was late\non Saturday night when we arrived at the final result.  The rest you\nknow.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, Cadwgan, I know the rest.  In the presence of my dear and\nvalued friend Jones, I offer you my humblest apology for having suspected\nyou of dishonesty; I shall never be able to repay you for the services\nyou have rendered me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m repaid already by your confidence and esteem.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd hereafter, Mr. Wynn, I will seek to do so in a more substantial way.\nBut tell me, what can you possibly know about the quality of tea?  You\nremarked just now it was inferior; how did you ascertain this?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know the quality of teas by the smell.\u201d {178}\n\n\u201cBy the smell!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir; by the smell.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that really so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere are two samples: please give me your judgment upon them.\u201d\n\nMr. Wynn took the samples, and having smelt them, returned them to his\nemployer, saying, this is worth so much, the other sample is not worth\nbuying.\n\n\u201cWell, Mr. Wynn, I am satisfied, and more than satisfied, with your\nconduct during the years you have been in our house.  For your goodness,\nand the deep interest you have taken in all matters connected with my\naffairs, from the bottom of my heart I thank you.  You are necessarily\nagitated by reason of the scene through which you have just passed.  You\nmust be fatigued too by reason of the extra work you have, for my sake,\nimposed upon yourself.  I cannot now say in what way I shall reward you,\nbut if you and friend Jones will come and dine at my house (bring Mrs.\nJones and your daughter with you), I will then tell you the course I\nshall adopt, and the arrangements I propose to make with reference to\nyour position and prospects.  Your disinterested service calls for an\nample reward.\u201d\n\n\u201cI require no reward, Mr. Roberts,\u201d said Cadwgan.  \u201cI have simply done my\nduty.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well, Mr. Wynn, you may think so.  You must not, however, condemn\nme for holding the contrary opinion.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should esteem it a favour, sir, if you would give Mr. Sykes and Mr.\nWilliams a holiday.  They are not well, and I fear the pressure upon them\nduring the past few weeks has overtaxed their strength.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy all means let them go.  Please give them this, and tell them it is a\nsmall token of my high appreciation of their conduct.\u201d\n\nMr. Wynn was delighted at being made the channel of Mr. Roberts\u2019s\ncommunication.  When the papers were opened, it was found that they were\ntwo \u00a310 Bank of England notes.  On receiving the gift, the Yorkshireman\nheld it up, and said,\u2014\u201cI little expected this.\u201d  Mr. Williams, too, was\nequally surprised.  They then wished each other good morning, and it need\nhardly be said that Mr. Wynn\u2019s assistants thoroughly enjoyed their day\u2019s\ntrip to Windsor.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n_THE RIGHT MAN COMING AT THE RIGHT TIME_.\n\n\n\u201cIs it not strange, dear aunt,\u201d said Gwenfan, \u201cthat Cadwgan has been so\nlong silent?  We have not heard from him for more than a month.  He might\njust have sent a line to say he was well, and when we may expect him?\u201d\n\n\u201cCadwgan, my dear child, has now a great deal to do.  Since his\npromotion, doubtless his time is fully occupied.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should like to see a likeness of the young lady to whom he refers in\nhis letters.  If the description he gives be anything approaching the\ntruth, she must be queen both in personal appearance and purity of mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you refer to Miss Jones, my child?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, aunt bach; I refer certainly to her.  I think my naughty brother is\nin love with her.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be an excellent match, Gwenfan, for Miss Jones is an only child\nof very rich parents.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was not aware, aunt, that Mr. Jones was a person of great wealth,\nthough I thought he was well to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is said, that her papa will give her \u00a350,000 on the morning of her\nmarriage, with the certainty of farther expectations.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I should like to see Cadwgan settled, if he had a kind, good, and\nloving wife.  For myself, aunty, I intend to remain single, and be like\nyou, an old maid.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you do, do you?  You will alter your opinion, I\u2019ll be bound when the\nright man comes.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut will the right man come, aunty?  Never, never, say I.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, the right man will certainly come, Gwenfan.  I declare there he is.\nLook! look! be quick!  Why, he is coming here.  If you wish to escape his\nnet, fly, my niece, at once to your room.\u201d\n\n\u201cFly?  I will not do that, aunty,\u201d said Gwenfan, laughing.  \u201cThough\nperhaps we had better retire and prepare ourselves to receive him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell thought of, my child; and tell the servant, if he seeks us, to show\nhim into the drawing-room, where we will presently join him.\u201d\n\nWhen the servant opened the door, the young gentleman inquired if Miss\nWynn were within, as he wished to see her on a matter of some importance.\nReceiving a reply in the affirmative, the servant conducted the stranger\nto the drawing-room, on entering which he took a seat in the great\nbay-window, from which he gazed on the glorious prospect around.  So\nenchanted was he with the sight, the exquisite beauty of the scene, that\nhe did not notice the entrance of the ladies, who had been a few minutes\nin the room before he became aware of their presence.  At last Miss Aunt\nWynn approached the chair on which he was seated, when the ruffle of her\ndress awoke him from his reverie.  He then rose, apologised for his\nabrupt visit, but excused himself by saying that circumstances had\noccurred which had compelled him to alter his original arrangement, hence\nhe found himself there two days earlier than he had expected.\n\n\u201cBut ladies, in my having to apologise, I forget to introduce myself.  My\nname is Rhys Roberts, and I presume,\u201d pointing to the young lady standing\nby her aunt\u2019s chair, \u201cthat she is your niece, Miss Gwenfan Wynn.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir; this young lady is my niece.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought so.  She is the very image of her brother.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do you know my brother?\u201d asked Gwenfan.\n\n\u201cKnow him!  He is my father\u2019s chief hand, and my most intimate friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen did you see or hear from my brother, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I left London, we arranged to meet here.  I have been expecting a\nletter from him daily, but no letter has reached me.  I cannot think what\nhas become of him.  It is quite possible he may be detained on important\nbusiness.  He had a very important matter in hand when I left.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have not heard from him,\u201d said the aunt, \u201cfor a month, and his sister\nand I are getting very anxious about him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou need not, ladies, be in any alarm.  During the last month, he has\nbeen working night and day, and has had scarcely a moment to spare.  He\nhas now completed his labours, so on Monday, or on Tuesday next at the\nfarthest, you may expect him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case, we shall have the pleasure of your company until his\narrival,\u201d remarked the aunt.  \u201cMy nephew\u2019s friend will ever receive here\na hearty welcome.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m extremely obliged to you, madam, for your kind offer of hospitality,\nand as I wish, and am most anxious, to pay a visit to the most remarkable\nplaces in your neighbourhood, I embrace your kind offer, if you and Miss\nGwenfan will promise to act as my cicerones, as doubtless you are\nthoroughly acquainted with every nook and corner of the country where the\nbeauteous spots are to be found.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall, sir,\u201d said the ladies, \u201cbe delighted to show you the most\nromantic spots to be found in wild Wales.  For grandeur and bold scenery\nour neighbourhood has no equal.  But, Mr. Roberts, you must judge for\nyourself.  When you have traversed our mountains and valleys, our high\nhills and sylvan glades, you will say that the beauties of the\nsurrounding scene are beyond the descriptive powers of the most eloquent\npen of this age.\u201d\n\nDuring the few days of their tour, they visited Bettws-y-Coed, Capel\nCurig, the Swallow Falls, Pont Aberglaslyn, Llyngwynant, Tan y Bwlch,\nMaentwrog, Ffestiniog, Rhayadr Dd\u00fb, Tremadoc, Harlech, and Aberdovy,\nreturning late on Saturday night from the latter town.  Both the ladies\nand Mr. Roberts had thoroughly enjoyed their outing; the latter\nespecially, having now for the first time beheld the scenes, was charmed\nwith the grand sights which he had beheld.\n\nDuring this excursion there had sprung up, unconsciously to himself, a\nfeeling of more than respect for Miss Gwenfan, whilst she and her aunt\nconcluded that Mr. Roberts was one of the most kind-hearted, generous,\nand amiable young gentlemen with whom they had ever come in contact.  It\nmust, too, be owned that Mr. Roberts had awakened in her young heart\nemotions of a kind, and in a degree, to which that heart had been\npreviously a stranger.\n\nWhen Mr. Roberts retired to his dressing-room he wrote in his diary the\nfollowing sentence: \u201cHappy, thrice happy, will be the man who secures\nsuch a prize as Miss Gwenfan!  In her heart is lodged the deepest\nreverence for truth, for virtue, and religion.  She is, too, as beautiful\nas she is good.  Her attachment to and admiration of her native country\nand its people is as deep and as enthusiastic as was that of the glorious\nold patriots of olden times.  Then the days I have passed in her society\nhave been the happiest I ever spent.  I can hardly realize the happiness\nI have enjoyed.  They are like a dream, though in the foreground of the\nvision there stands the good and beautiful maiden, with her curly locks,\nher auburn hair, her dark eye, and a countenance as clear as the crystal\nstreamlet.  In spite of myself I love her.  I now retire to rest.  May\nher dreams be as pleasant as I hope mine will be!\u201d\n\nAt breakfast, on the following Sabbath morning, Mr. Roberts asked the\nladies if they would accompany him to the Methodist Church, at Tan y\nBwlch, as he was particularly desirous of hearing the Rev. Thomas\nCharles, of Bala, who at that time was considered one of the most eminent\nclergymen in Wales.\n\n\u201cIt is fortunate, Mr. Roberts, you put the question to us,\u201d replied the\nladies.\n\n\u201cAnd why?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you have simply anticipated us in your request.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you had arranged to go?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, conditionally on your accompanying us to hear that great and good\nman.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am delighted, madam, in the prospect of seeing and hearing one so\ndistinguished for learning and piety, one who has made so many sacrifices\nfor the spiritual welfare of his countrymen.\u201d\n\nOn their arrival at the church they found it crammed to suffocation,\nscarcely a single inch remained unoccupied.  However, as the Misses Wynn\nand Mr. Roberts came in a carriage, and Bryn Villa being always open to\nreceive clergymen of this and all other denominations, the deacons\nmanaged to find them seats.  Mr. Charles\u2019 discourse was above the\naverage; some of the passages were most eloquent, and many members of the\ncongregation were bathed in tears.\n\nOn their way home Mr. Roberts referred to a passage in Mr. Charles\u2019\nsermon, which he considered most beautiful.  \u201cYou remember he said,\n\u2018implicitly to follow the counsel of the best and wisest of men, is to\ndepend on an arm of flesh.  They only are right and safe who make God\u2019s\nglory their end, God\u2019s word their rule, God\u2019s spirit the guide of their\nactions, and God\u2019s providence the guide of their affairs.  They may not\nbe led by the nearest, but they will be by the best road; as it will\ncertainly appear when they come to their journey\u2019s end.\u2019  If the\nChristian Church, and if all religious people were to act according to\nMr. Charles\u2019 sublime idea, the race would be happier than it is.  The\nstandard he set before us is a high one.  I\u2019ve found it difficult to live\nup to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no doubt you have, Mr. Roberts,\u201d remarked the aunt.  \u201cWe must,\nhowever, do our best, then Heaven will surely smile upon us, though we\nbut imperfectly perform our religious duty.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is that thought, madam, which cheers me in my hour of gloom and\nsadness.  I often think that I should have given up striving to live to\nGod were it not for the glorious promises He has given His Church and\npeople.  In my endeavour to attain to the highest form of spiritual life,\nyour nephew, Miss Wynn, your dear brother, Miss Gwenfan, has helped me by\nhis wise counsel, while his deep religiousness and high Christian\ncharacter have been incentives to me to aspire to reach the highest\ngood.\u201d\n\nThe reference to her brother brought tears to Gwenfan\u2019s eyes.  Ever since\nhe had left home, she had prayed every night and morning that he might be\nkept from evil, kept unspotted from the world, kept safely in the\npavilion of the unseen and eternal.\n\nMr. Roberts, seeing the young lady in tears, asked if he could in any way\nalleviate her sorrow; but she at once replied,\u2014\n\n\u201cI weep not, sir, because my heart is sad.  I am almost overcome with joy\nby reason of your reference to dear Cadwgan.  Oh, I do rejoice with\nunspeakable satisfaction, that he has not forgotten the holy lessons our\ndear parents taught us.  Though they are gone, I feel their spirits often\nvisit us, and I think they watch over us with the same care and\nsolicitude as when they were present in the flesh.\u201d\n\n\u201cHappy, my dear Miss Wynn, must be the brother whose beloved sister,\nliving here amongst the Welsh mountains, prays daily for his welfare.  I\ncan bear testimony to his practical piety, his eminent godliness, his\ndeep devotional spirit.  He has taught me to love and adore the Name\nwhich is above every name.  There is, too, a fragrance about Cadwgan\u2019s\nacts and life.  Truly has he been the guide of my inexperience, my\ncounsellor, my friend.  During the past three years, scarcely a day has\npassed without our having conversation on the highest things.  Since we\nparted the other day, I have missed him much.  Oh, I wish he had come!\nBut there _is_ your brother.  Look!  He is waiting our return.\u201d\n\nIn a moment afterward Cadwgan and his sister were locked in each other\u2019s\narms.\n\nDuring the following week Miss Gwenfan Wynn and Mr. Roberts were almost\nconstantly together; and it must be owned that there grew up between\nthose two young and innocent hearts a feeling more warm, more ardent, and\nmore fervent than usually exists between friends and acquaintances; a\nfeeling which if permitted to ripen and develop, would result in the\nunion of heart with heart, soul with soul,\u2014a feeling the intensity of\nwhich would survive even the tomb.\n\nAfter the happy days thus spent together, Miss Wynn one evening remarked\nto her niece, \u201cHas not the right man come, my child?  I suppose I shall\nhear no more of your living the life of an old maid?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, aunt, you are too cruel.  I like Mr. Roberts much, but only as\nCadwgan\u2019s friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well; we shall see what we shall see.  You will be Mrs. Roberts\none of these days.  There, don\u2019t blush my child.  There is no harm in\nyour loving so noble a youth.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n_VIRTUE REWARDED_.\n\n\nOn leaving the warehouse one evening, soon after his return from Wales,\nMr. Roberts remarked, \u201cYou must dine with us to-morrow, Mr. Wynn, and my\nold friend Jones will accompany you.  He has already arranged to form one\nof our party, and I am glad for my own sake and yours that we shall have\nthe pleasure of his society.  He is one of the best men I know in this\nhuge city.\u201d\n\nAs soon as the ladies had retired, Mr. Roberts pushed the bottle to Mr.\nJones, with the observation, \u201cThis is your favourite wine, and please to\nmake yourself as free with it as you\u2019re welcome.  I think Mr. Wynn and\nyou, my son, prefer sherry.  I\u2019ll try port, which is my favourite drink.\u201d\n\nAfter a general conversation on the general topics of the day, Mr.\nRoberts turned to Mr. Jones, and said that he thanked him most gratefully\nfor having pleaded so eloquently the claims of his young friend, Wynn.\n\u201cYou will doubtless remember, Jones, that I was most unwilling to receive\nhim into the establishment, in the first place on his own account;\nsecondly, I did not consider mine a proper place for a young gentleman of\nhis social position.  You, however, urged his claims, and considering our\npersonal friendship, and my previous connection with the Wynn family, I\nat last reluctantly yielded to your wishes, though in doing so I was\nperfectly aware that I should create in the mind of McLiver hostile\nfeelings to myself and Cadwgan there.  I little expected that my\ncashier\u2019s objection would spring from conviction of wrongdoing.  I\nbelieved in his integrity, and had confidence in his honesty; and as he\napparently served me faithfully I was prepared to yield to some extent to\nhis wishes, though he was well aware of my unbending disposition when\nonce I had resolved to carry a particular point.  McLiver having\ndiscovered my resolve to be Mr. Wynn\u2019s friend, I must own that he did not\noppose my wishes to the extent I at first anticipated.\n\n\u201cNow from the first day on which Mr. Wynn entered upon his duties, I am\nbound to say that I found him plodding, persevering, and honest; his\nfirst and chief concern being to promote my interest.  In this, he set us\nall an example we should do well to copy.\n\n\u201cTo the proceedings of the other day\u2014a day which to me will be ever\nmemorable, I will not allude further than to express a hope that I have\nCadwgan\u2019s complete pardon for having for once suspected his dishonesty.\nAnd this is a fitting occasion for me to thank you, Jones, for the deep\ninterest you have shown in my affairs in connection with our young\nfriend.  Had Cadwgan not done what he did, the scoundrel\u2019s rascality\nwould in all probability have effected my ruin.  But how came you, Mr.\nWynn, to suspect his dishonesty?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy tale, sir, is soon told,\u201d remarked Cadwgan.  \u201cFrom time to time\nlittle things cropped up in connection with business transactions and in\nthe accounts, the appearance of which I did not at all like.  To my mind\nthere was satisfactory and conclusive evidence that the man was not\ndealing honourably by you, and that you were a victim of his dishonesty.\nYou must bear in mind this, I had but a suspicion.  I could not prove\nthat what I suspected was actual and real.\n\n\u201cBeing in a state of doubt, I really did not know what to do.  I could\nnot suggest my suspicion to you because the person was in your\nconfidence.  After thinking over the matter some days and nights I\nresolved to sound my fellow-clerks, Messrs. Sykes and Williams, for I\nknew I could depend on them.  Strange to say they had long suspected his\nguilt, but were afraid to give expression to their opinion, because Mr.\nMcLiver appeared all-powerful.\n\n\u201cAfter a conference we agreed to get up evidence.  We ascertained he was\nliving at the rate of \u00a32000 or \u00a33000 a year, though he had no income but\nhis salary.  We found, too, that he paid for all goods when ordered.  On\nmaking further inquiry we discovered that his cousin Donald, though he\nhad a smaller salary than I had, spent several pounds weekly in\ndissipation.\n\n\u201cThen the constant visits of relatives who are employed in similar\nestablishments in the city, and the worthless stuff sent from the houses\nwhere they were engaged, these things awakened in my mind the strongest\nsuspicion that the parties were conspiring together to rob you and their\nemployers.\n\n\u201cAs the books were all in McLiver\u2019s hands and under his control, we could\ndo nothing; but when you appointed me to the post of accountant, Mr.\nSykes, Mr. Williams, and myself resolved to ascertain if our suspicion\nwas well founded.  During the past three months we have given the whole\nof our spare time during the day to the past five years\u2019 accounts, while\nwe seldom left the office until late at night.  The result of our labours\nyou know.  I fancy one of the clerks in my department must have told\nMcLiver what we were doing, and doubtless his guilt awoke in his mind a\nsense of the dangerous position in which he had placed himself.  Then in\norder if possible to crush me before the work was done, he and his cousin\nDonald concocted the charge against me\u2014themselves being the robbers.  I\ndo not for a moment think they wished my punishment.  What they did\ndesire was to secure my expulsion from your establishment, that thus\ntheir malpractices might possibly remain undetected.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut where are his relations employed, Mr. Wynn?\u201d asked Mr. Roberts.\n\n\u201cMr. McNab, his uncle, is cashier to the Chinese Tea Company, and his\nbrother is with Morant & Hogsflesh.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you really believe these parties were confederates?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt of it, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case what would you advise?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn justice to yourself and the high reputation of your house, it is your\nduty to furnish them with the whole of our discovered facts.  It is\nimportant they should be informed of their servants\u2019 dishonesty.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy gad, Mr. Wynn, I\u2019ll advise their punishment; and if their employers\nwon\u2019t do it, I will.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am afraid that your advice will be too late.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so, Cadwgan?\u201d\n\n\u201cBoth have already fled to the Continent.  It appears that they, like\nMcLiver, helped themselves to their employers\u2019 money before they went.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how did they find out McLiver was in prison, Mr. Wynn?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome one of your servants or clerks must have carried the news to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll get the scoundrels back, cost what it will.  To-morrow the\nofficers of justice shall fly in pursuit.  We\u2019ll find them somewhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt, sir, they deserve severe punishment, though I am sorry for\nMcNab, because he has a large family, and in punishing him you will\npunish his innocent wife and children.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey, Mr. Wynn, shall not come to want.  While resolving to punish the\nguilty, I\u2019ll see to the interests of the guiltless.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me your hand, friend Roberts,\u201d said Mr. Jones.  \u201cYou are a noble\nfellow; your heart is in the right place; and I\u2019ll join you in so holy a\nwork.\u201d\n\n\u201cI must now turn,\u201d said Mr. Roberts, \u201cto a more pleasant theme.  It has\nbeen by you, Mr. Wynn, I have been saved from ruin.  You have business\ntalents of a high order.  I would trust you with untold gold.  You have\nproved your fidelity and tact under circumstances the most trying.  In\nour relationship I plainly see the finger of Heaven.  I now plainly see\nthat it is my interest no less than your own that our relationship should\nbe closer than it has hitherto been.  The business, as you are aware, is\nwholly my own.  Thank Heaven, I possess all the wealth I desire.\nHowever, I love work, and at present I\u2019m not quite prepared to throw off\nthe harness.  I shall do so, however, in a few years.  In view of that\nday I think it well to prepare for it.  I have therefore resolved to take\ninto partnership my son Rhys and you, and we\u2019ll take equal profits.  The\nmoney in the business I shall regard as a set-off against your ability\nand talent, and when I go out I will leave in your joint hands the\ncapital necessary for successfully carrying on the concern.  Are you\nprepared, Mr. Wynn, to accept my offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cWith deep gratitude and thanks I do indeed accept your offer, Mr.\nRoberts.  I shall never be able to repay you for your goodness and\nkindness.  To me you have been always kind, always generous, ever noble\nand disinterested.  To Mr. Jones and you I owe my present position and\nthe prospects before me.  My gratitude, sir, I shall carry with me to the\ngrave.\u201d\n\n\u201cI rejoice,\u201d remarked Mr. Jones, who had hitherto been an almost silent\nlistener, \u201cto see this day, and I shall pray Heaven that the sun of\nprosperity may ever continue to shine on your concern, and that never an\nincident may occur calculated to disturb the kindly feeling and mutual\nconfidence between you, friend Roberts, and your new partners.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo that, Jones, I say amen.  Still I think there is not much danger on\nthat score.  We all know each other; that\u2019s an important point.  Unless\nmy suspicions are wrong, which I think is not likely, that roving son of\nmine has managed to fall in love; and I warn you, Mr. Wynn, especially if\nyou desire your sister to become your little housekeeper, to take care of\nher.  If you don\u2019t do so, his siege on her heart\u2019s citadel will prove, I\nfear, successful.  Well, I forgive him for making love without his\nfather\u2019s permission; and you, Mr. Wynn, must pardon him too.\u201d\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n\u201cNow, Mr. Wynn, in view of our new arrangements, what alterations would\nyou propose in the conduct of the business, bearing this in mind, that\nyou will have to undertake the purchase of all goods?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case, Mr. Roberts, I recommend your appointing Mr. Williams to\nthe office I now fill.  He is a relative of yours, and is a thoroughly\ncompetent man.  Then Mr. Sykes would succeed McLiver.  His honesty and\nintegrity are beyond question.  Had it not been for their able\nassistance, I should never have succeeded in unravelling the mysteries of\nyour affairs.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour proposal, Mr. Wynn, does infinite credit to your sagacity.  Let the\narrangements be carried out at once.  The deed of partnership has already\nbeen prepared, and now awaits your signature.  My son signed it before he\nleft on his recent tour.\u201d\n\nUnder the new management, the company of Roberts, Wynn & Roberts, grew\nmightily.  From one end of the kingdom to the other their teas were in\ngreat repute.  They had for their patrons royal princes and the nobles of\nthe land.  The demand grew year after year, and the increased sale\nbrought large additional profits.  During the fifth year of the\npartnership, these profits amounted to \u00a345,000, though Mr. Wynn did not\ntake above \u00a3750, one half of which he sent his aunt and sister for their\nuse.  Cadwgan had during those five years put by \u00a355,000.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n_THE LOST INHERITANCE REGAINED_.\n\n\nThe day previous to the return of Mr. Wynn and young Roberts to town,\nthey went out alone for a stroll.  They took the road leading to Pont\nAberglaslyn, and as both gentlemen were excellent pedestrians, they soon\narrived at that exquisitely beautiful glen.  When on the bridge, they\ngazed in silence for some minutes on the dark mad water beneath.  After\nsome minutes\u2019 silence, Mr. Wynn asked his friend if he had previously\nvisited the glen.\n\n\u201cYes; I have been here once, Cadwgan.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s a charming spot?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn my judgment, Cadwgan, this is the grandest scene in all Wales.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you prefer it to Bettws-y-Coed?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do.  This place has a charm for me which that sylvan vale has not.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it has for me, my friend.  The meandering river flowing down this\nvalley, the high hills on either side of the glen, the stupendous and\noverhanging rocks, with a thousand different colours, foliage, trees,\nshrubs, and mosses, with grand old Snowdon in the distance: these, and\nearly recollections and associations, have rendered this place dearer to\nme than all other scenes in my dear native land.  I am glad that our\nviews of this delectable valley are identical, though I cannot convey to\nyou the depth of my emotion in contemplating the scene.\u201d\n\n\u201cCadwgan,\u201d replied Mr. Roberts, \u201cthe spot on which I now stand is as dear\nto me as my life.  You have been my adviser, my counsellor, my friend\u2014ay,\nmore than a brother to me.  Oh, advise me how to act!  I confessed here\nto your sister my love, and offered her my hand and heart.  I asked her\nto become mine; but oh, Cadwgan, she rejected my offer!\u201d\n\n\u201cDid she, that is, my sister, give any reason for declining your offer?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed she did not.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid she tell you she was engaged already?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay; she told me she was free.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you ask her for an immediate answer?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was her reply?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat she could not be mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen she gave you no other reason?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, Cadwgan; but was not that enough?  Since then I\u2019ve been the most\nmiserable of men.  Oh, you must dissuade her from acting towards me so\ncruelly.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am glad, Roberts, my sister acted as she did, though I deeply regret\nthe pain her refusal has occasioned you.  I blame you for confessing your\nlove, though I do not blame you for feeling admiration for my dear\nsister.\u201d\n\n\u201cI take it, Cadwgan, you are not favourable to my suit.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo far from being unfavourable, my dear Roberts, I will confess to you\nthat I know of no one whom I should so like to have for a brother as\nyourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you are willing for me to renew my suit hereafter?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost willing.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you have expressed your approval of your sister\u2019s rejection of my\nsuit?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are incomprehensible to me.  Pray explain yourself, my dear\nCadwgan.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll do so in a few words.  Before I can permit my dear sister to\nentertain your proposal, your father must be fully informed of your\nintention.  His views of such an alliance might be very different from\nyours.  He might wish you to marry the daughter of a wealthy city\nmerchant, therefore he would regard your proposal as foolish and\nimprudent.\u201d\n\n\u201cCadwgan, you do my dear father great injustice.  He has an abundance of\nwealth.  He would be the last man to make my marriage a matter of money\nspeculation.  I know better than you can his feelings, and am sure that,\nin a matter so momentous, his first consideration would be my happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no doubt but such are your father\u2019s feelings; still, as I am but\na clerk in his establishment, I can\u2019t permit you to address my sister\nuntil his consent is given fully and freely.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, knowing your high character and scruples, I must tell you that I\nhave taken steps in order to anticipate your objection.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope you have not written Mr. Roberts?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I have, Cadwgan.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m very sorry; you really should have waited.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, nay, I couldn\u2019t wait.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas your father replied?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; his answer came this morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose he has ordered your immediate return home?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no.  I\u2019m to stay another week if I like.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, has he given you his consent for you to propose to my dear\nsister?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I have his hearty approval.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen my sister was not aware of this when you offered her your hand?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not.  My father\u2019s letter came this morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you informed her of your father\u2019s feeling in the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. I delayed doing so until I spoke to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad you have kept the information from Gwenfan.  But she must not\nbe kept in ignorance longer than can be helped; and since you have opened\nyour mind freely to me, I may as well tell you that at the proper time\nand after I have consulted your father, she is prepared to accept your\nhand.  As her brother and guardian, I will then, my dear Roberts, give\nher to you.  I know you will watch over her with the deepest affection\nand solicitude.  In this matter I have only one request to make, which I\nam sure will be readily granted.  Will you promise?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo me, dear friend, you will is law.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy request is a simple one, namely, that your marriage be deferred for a\ntime?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are too cruel to defer the day of my being made perfectly happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut for your and her sake I think there should be reasonable delay.  It\nis true your father is a rich man, but for the present you are simply a\nson of a city prince.  Possibly he might give you \u00a31000 a year, but I\nshould like to see you in business yourself before you settle down.  Then\nmy dear sister is young: only little over eighteen years.  Three or four\nyears is not long to wait.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the present I will not argue the point with you, you will learn that\nI am not in the position you fancy I am.  I cannot explain myself further\nnow, but when we return to town, you, dear Cadwgan, will know all.\nOthers will reveal facts to you which I am bound to keep secret.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well, we\u2019ll talk on this matter again.  We must now return to the\nVilla, and make our arrangements for our immediate return to London.\nEarly to-morrow morning we must leave, otherwise we shall arrive at the\nwarehouse on the day our leave expires.\u201d\n\nDuring the evening, Mr. Roberts and Gwenfan had a long conversation.\nWhen he returned to the library to join Cadwgan, he whispered, \u201cIt is all\nsettled; I\u2019m now happy.\u201d\n\nIn the following August, Miss Wynn and her aunt paid a long visit to\nLondon.  During their stay, they were frequent visitors at Mr. Roberts\u2019\nurban mansion.  The more he saw of the gentle, quiet, and lovely Gwenfan,\nthe more he liked her; and when the time came when those loving hearts\nwere to be made one, he took his son\u2019s and future daughter\u2019s hands in\nhis, saying, \u201cBe true to each other; and you, my son, guard this\nbeautiful Cambrian plant, for I am persuaded she is worth her weight in\ngold.  You, Rhys, have made a wise choice, I would rather have Gwenfan\nfor my daughter than a princess of the royal blood.  May Heaven bless\nyour union!\u201d\n\nWe now pass over a brief period of history.  Mr. Roberts had now ceased\nto be a partner in the firm.  From the date of Mr. Wynn joining the firm\nuntil Mr. Roberts\u2019 retirement, the house had prospered year after year.\nThe partners became wealthy men, were of high repute in the city, and Mr.\nWynn, who was considered the soul of the business, was looked up to as a\nman almost unequalled for business talents, while his word was regarded\nas law by all with whom he had any mercantile transactions.\n\nOf Mr. Roberts\u2019 intended retirement, Mr. Wynn knew nothing until the very\nmorning it was carried out.  When they met in the former\u2019s private\noffice, he asked,\u2014\n\n\u201cHow many years, Mr. Wynn, has our partnership lasted?\u201d\n\n\u201cFive years, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long have you been with me?\u201d\n\n\u201cTen years to-day, sir, I entered your service.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how rapidly the time passes!  Well I have to thank my heavenly\nFather for having directed your footsteps here.  You have proved yourself\na faithful friend, since the date of our partnership.  By your tact,\njudgment, business habits, industry, and integrity, you have raised our\nhouse to the highest commercial position.  You are almost as dear to me,\nCadwgan, as if you were my own child.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom you,\u201d replied Mr. Wynn, \u201cI have received the greatest kindness and\nconsideration.  To me you have been a second father.  No parent could\nhave shown a deeper interest in a son than you have shown in me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you are now a rich man, Cadwgan, why don\u2019t you seek a wife.  I\u2019m sure\nyou would be a better and happier man?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have, Mr. Roberts, anticipated your wish.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad to hear it, Cadwgan, though you surprise me.  I was not aware\nof your having fixed your heart on any young lady.  I hope she is worthy\nof you.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom you, sir, I keep nothing.  The lady is Miss Jones; she has accepted\nmy offer, and her parents have given their consent to our union.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m glad to hear this, for your sake and hers.  Jones is a capital\nfellow, and his daughter is a noble girl.  She has in her own right a\nsplendid fortune, and her father must be a rich man.  She will make you\nan excellent wife.  Her fortune is in the funds, and if necessary you\ncould turn it to immediate account.  I hope you will get back the old\nplace.\n\n\u201cNow, Mr. Wynn, as you have told me your secret, I see no reason why I\nshould withhold from you mine.  I, too, am about to contract a marriage;\nI do not find it good to be alone; I am going to be wedded to my first\nlove.  Strange to say, her name is Wynn.  Do you know any lady in your\nparts of North Wales of that name?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, sir, I don\u2019t at present recollect any lady of the name of Wynn.\u201d\n\n\u201cTry, Cadwgan, and remember.  My impression is you must remember; she is\nacquainted with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely, Mr. Roberts, you don\u2019t refer to my aunt?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do though.  Are you willing to give her to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost willing, sir, as far as I am concerned.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you are pleased at the prospect of a closer connection between us?\nYou have placed me in possession of your feeling.  Now please give me the\nreason of its existence?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I will do, sir, in a few words.  Though she is my aunt, and the\nonly relative I have in the world, except my dear sister, I must say that\nshe is one of the kindest and best of women.  I am sure she will make you\nhappy.  But, sir, I did not know you had ever seen my aunt until she came\nto visit me in London?\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Wynn was my earliest love.  I proposed to her, but her brother,\nyour dear father, objected to our union.  I left for London immediately\nafterwards, got married, settled down in business, but from the day of my\ndeparture until her visit to you we never met.  Mr. Jones was fully aware\nof the circumstance of my being rejected.  It was, indeed, the fact of my\nproposal of which Jones took advantage to plead so persistently for you\nwhen he wished you to come here.  Little did I know then what a noble boy\nyou were, what a treasure I was to have in you.  But let that pass: I\nhave one favour to ask you.  Will you grant it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, to the extent of every penny I possess.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you consent to be married on the same day as myself?  And we will\narrange that Rhys and your sister shall also be united on the occasion.\nNext, will you sign that parchment, without asking any question, or\nexamining its contents? you can make yourself acquainted with the\nparticulars hereafter.\u201d\n\n\u201cHeartily I say yes, to your questions.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear boy, I thank you from my heart of hearts for your goodness and\nconfidence.  The document contains a dissolution of partnership so far as\nI am concerned.  You, and your future brother are now the owners of\neverything here.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Roberts,\u201d replied Cadwgan, with tears in his eyes, \u201chow can I ever\nrepay you for so noble and so generous an act?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear boy, you have already repaid me with your grateful tear, by your\nten years of faithful services, and by the splendid gift of your aunt.\nThere is the ledger, which you can scan at leisure.  You will find the\nfacts fully set forth.  Here is a mortgage deed for \u00a350,000,\u2014a sum which\nsimply represents your share of the profits of the business during the\nperiod of our partnership.  The other mortgagee is your intended\nfather-in-law, who has invested his daughter\u2019s fortune in the same\nproperty as her trustee and guardian.  The two sums amount to \u00a3115,000,\nwhich are secured on your paternal estate, Wynn Castle.  On the day of\nyour marriage, the estate, which has been greatly improved since your\npoor father\u2019s death, will be conveyed to you as sole owner, by cancelling\nthose deeds.  How this matter has been arranged it is not necessary for\nyou to know.  I rejoice beyond measure in your being about to take\npossession of your lost inheritance, and to regain it by means so\nhonourable to yourself.  My prayer shall be that Heaven will bless you\nwith health and prosperity, and that you may long live to enjoy it.  I\nhave now done my day\u2019s work, so for the present must wish you good\nmorning.  We shall soon meet again.\u201d\n\nBut few additional words are necessary to complete this history.  In a\nfew months after the above interview, Mr. Roberts, Mr. Roberts junior,\nand Cadwgan were married to the ladies of their choice.\n\nDuring a portion of each summer, Mr. and Mrs. Cadwgan Wynn, and Mr. and\nMrs. Roberts, senior and junior spent several weeks at Wynn Castle, where\nMr. and Mrs. Owen Jones had taken up their permanent abode.  The various\ntenants on the estate rejoiced in possessing such an excellent landlord,\nbut their joy was unbounded on the morning the news reached them of the\nbirth of a son and heir.  On the return to the castle after this event,\nhis tenantry presented him with an address, to which he replied as\nfollows:\u2014\n\n\u201cFriends and neighbours,\u2014After many years of exile from the land of my\nbirth and the home of my father\u2019s sepulchre, I feel it my first duty to\nreturn my gratitude to Him who guides and directs the destiny of us all,\nfor having in His good and merciful providence again directed my\nfootsteps to the land of my love and my warmest affection.  Twelve years\nto day I went out in the wide world, poor and almost penniless.  I\nresolved, with Heaven\u2019s help, to succeed, that is if success could be\nachieved by honesty, integrity, and plodding.  After wandering about\nLondon for several days, I found myself one summer evening on London\nBridge, faint, anxious, and sick, with but a few shillings in my pocket.\nJust as I was about to settle down to sleep on the cold stone, a good\nWelsh Samaritan who was passing by had compassion on the forlorn one, and\ntook me to his home.  Strange to say, his noble daughter fell in love\nwith me, poor and friendless though I was.  That lady is my wife and the\nmother of my son.  I might tell you that her love for dear old Cambria is\nas deep and as intense as is her love for her offspring.  Moreover, her\nheart is full of sympathy for the sons and daughters of human suffering\nwherever found, and she will consider it not only a pleasure but a duty\nto visit and administer consolation and solace to the distressed in this\nbeautiful valley.  But, says my friend on my right, you must not remain\nidle; you have work to do.  My dear friend, the Rev. Thomas Charles, who\nis an honour to our country, is doing much for the intellectual, moral,\nand religious welfare of the people.  You ought to support his efforts by\nevery means in your power.  Him I will aid with my purse and influence.\nI hope in this effort we shall be united, conformists and nonconformists,\njoining hand in hand and heart with heart, so that our people may become\nan intelligent and religious people.  To bring about such a glorious\nconsummation is the chief desire of my soul.  I have only one more word\nto add, that is to thank you for your beautiful address.  Be assured that\nI and my wife will endeavour to earn your good opinion.  We will try to\npromote your commercial welfare, and with it your highest interest.\u201d\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nMcLiver in due time was brought before the bar of justice, and his guilt\nhaving been clearly established, was banished the kingdom.  After\nundergoing ten years of punishment in Van Diemen\u2019s Land, he obtained his\nrelease, and settled down in one of the Australian colonies as a small\nfarmer.  His uncle and cousin were finally apprehended, and being found\nguilty were transported.  Donald was allowed to go free, as his guilt\ncould not be legally established.  Some years afterwards Mr. Wynn learned\nthat he was engaged in the fish trade in one of the Orkney Islands.\n\n\n\n\nTRADITIONS OF LLYN SAVATHAN;\nOR LLANGORSE, OR TALYLLYN LAKE.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n_TRADITIONS OF GIRALDUS_.\n\n\n                \u201cNot a tree,\n    A llyn, a leaf, a blossom, but contains\n    A folio volume.  We may read, and read,\n    And read again, and still find something new.\u201d\n\nRespecting Llyn Savathan, which also bears the several names of Lake\nBrecheinoc, Brecinaumere, Llangorse, and Talyllyn Pool, Giraldus relates\nthat in the reign of Henry I., Gruffydd, son of Rhys ap Theodor, held\nunder the king one comot, namely, the fourth part of the cantref of Caoc,\nin the cantref Mawr.  When Gruffydd, on his return from the king\u2019s court,\npassed near this lake, which at this cold season of the year was covered\nwith wild fowl of various sorts, being accompanied by Milo, Earl of\nHereford and Lord of Brecon, and Payn FitzJohn, Lord of Ewyas, who at\nthat time were secretaries and privy counsellors to the King, Earl Milo,\nwishing to draw from Gruffydd some discourse concerning his innate\nnobility, rather jocularly than seriously thus addressed him: \u201cIt is an\nancient saying in Wales, that if the natural prince of the country,\ncoming to this lake, shall order the birds to sing, they will immediately\nobey him.\u201d  To which Gruffydd replied, \u201cDo you, therefore, who now hold\nthe dominion of this land, first give the command.\u201d  But he and Payn,\nhaving in vain commanded, and Gruffydd perceiving that it was necessary\nfor him to do so in his turn, dismounted from his horse, and falling on\nhis knees towards the east, as if he had been about to engage in battle,\nprostrate on the ground, with his eyes and hands uplifted to heaven,\npoured forth devout prayers to the Lord; and at length rising up, and\nsigning his face and forehead with the figure of the cross, thus openly\nspake, \u201cAlmighty God, and Lord Jesus Christ, who knowest all things,\ndeclare here, this day, Thy power.  If Thou hast caused me to descend\nlineally from the natural princes of Cambria, I command these birds, in\nThy name, to declare it.\u201d  And immediately, beating the waters with their\nwings, the birds began to cry aloud and proclaim him.  The spectators\nwere astonished and confounded; and Earl Milo, with FitzJohn, hastily\nreturned to court, and related this singular occurrence to Henry, who is\nsaid to have replied, \u201cBy the death of Christ, it is not a matter of so\nmuch wonder; for although by our great authority we commit acts of\nviolence and wrong against these people, yet they are known to be the\nrightful inheritors of this land.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n_THE LAST WARNING_.\n\n\nLong previous to the time to which the tradition of Giraldus relates, the\nplace occupied by Llyn Savathan formed a beautiful and picturesque\nvalley, through which the waters of the Llewenny meandered and flowed\ngently along in their progress towards the Wye.  On the left bank of the\nLlynfi, and within half a mile of its channel, there stood the church of\nLlangasty, which was dedicated to Saint Gasty, an eminent British saint\nwho flourished in the fifth century, and was murdered on the Van\nMountain, in the parish of Merthyr Cynog.  On the other side of the\nLlynfi, and nearly opposite the church, there stood a magnificent palace,\nbelonging to and occupied by a tyrannical prince, who neither feared God\nnor regarded man, who scorned religion, and loathed everything which was\npure and good and beautiful; a prince who, by the magnitude of his\nextortions and the relentlessness with which he pursued his unfortunate\nvassals, became the object of hate and intense aversion to all who had\ndealings or came in contact with him.  Moreover, as he grew older, his\nextortions became more burdensome, while his tyranny increased in its\nfury, notwithstanding the warnings he received from those who desired the\nperpetuation of his reign.  To all those warnings he turned a deaf ear,\nwhile he punished with the utmost rigour those who sought to thwart him\nin his infamous practices.\n\nIt was a cold December morning, when Father Olyver, of Llangasty,\nrepaired to the palace in order to condole with the prince on the death\nof a son.  On entering the reception-room, and finding the prince alone,\nhe thus addressed him\u2014\n\n\u201cMy heart grieves and is sad, my prince, at the loss you have sustained.\nAnother prop of your house has been taken away, and oh, reflect, I pray,\non your present mode of life; consider your ways and be wise.\u201d\n\n\u201cCease thy babbling, Father Olyver,\u201d replied the prince.  \u201c D\u2014 it, man,\nall must die.  The death of another son, thou senseless priest, only\ndiminishes my responsibility as a father, and now I shall have more to\nleave to the survivors.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray, don\u2019t speak thus, my lord, of your child.  The fruit of your loins\nshould ever be regarded with affection.\u201d\n\n\u201cI loved the boy when living, Father Olyver.  But now, man, he has ceased\nto live; the spirit, the soul, has gone; a clod of earth only remains.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so, my lord.  Yet I must own that I look on his untimely end as a\nterrible warning to you.  The event tells you to set your house in order,\nfor in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, Father Olyver.  I suppose, when He comes, I must go like the\nrest, in spite of the saints and mother Church.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut are you prepared, my prince, when the voice calls?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I am, father.  Let his majesty come whenever he pleases, I\u2019ll\naccompany him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you ready, my dear prince, to appear, without fear, before your God\nwhen He calls you hence?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are beautiful maidens, too, father, before whom I must and delight\nto appear, after my evening\u2019s carousals!  Ah! ah! ah!  I\u2019ll be bound that\neven you, Father Olyver, with your sanctimonious jib, are not indifferent\nto the smiles of a pretty wench, and you won\u2019t turn away when you happen\nto have a glimpse of a fine ankle.  Human nature is human nature all the\nworld over.  I warrant priests of mother Church don\u2019t always keep it in\nsubjection.  Oh!  Oh!\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is not the time, nor is it a fitting occasion, my lord, to indulge\nin such language,\u201d replied the priest.  \u201cFor one day, at least,\nespecially in the presence of the dead, I beseech you to cease speaking\nthus.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I, man, refrain from telling the truth even now?  Bedad, I\u2019ve\nhit the right nail on the head this time at any rate.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the present, however, I shall regard your charge of me and my orders\nin silence.  I have come here to perform the last rites of the Church\nover the dead.  The day to me is one of unusual solemnity.  I loved your\nson as if he had been my own child.  He was a good and pious youth,\nnotwithstanding the evil influences by which he was surrounded.  But he\nis gone, and the place that knew him shall know him no more.  And now, my\nlord, what hour have you fixed for carrying his remains to that silent\nbourne from whence no traveller ever comes back?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe propose to bury at five; and after the funeral I have, Father Olyver,\na grand banquet in my palace, and we anticipate a merry meeting.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd cannot you, my lord, give up folly and pleasure for a single day?\nCan\u2019t you devote one evening to pursuits which harmonize with the\nsolemnity of the day?  You have received from time to time, and year\nafter year, the most terrible warnings, yet you heed them not.  You hear\nthe sound of the trumpet, to which you have paid no attention.  If you\ncontinue to live as you have lived, my dear prince\u2014if you resolve, come\nwhat will, to steel your heart, and defy the Almighty,\u2014the day is not far\ndistant when the wrath of an angry God will descend upon you and yours,\nand on that day\u2014rather on that dark and dismal night\u2014the sword of His\njustice will descend, and the innocent and the guilty shall perish\ntogether.  I now leave you, my prince, but in a few hours we shall meet\nagain at the grave of departed virtue, and something tells me that when\nwe then part it will be a parting for ever.\u201d\n\nAt the time appointed the funeral cort\u00e8ge arrived at Llangasty.  The\nyoung prince was buried with extraordinary pomp.  When the service was\nconcluded, Father Olyver went up and pressed the hand of the prince, and\nbidding him good-bye, whispered in his ear, \u201cRemember, my lord, the\nwarning voice: it has spoken once, twice, ay, thrice; the next time it\nwill speak in thunder and lightning, when the earth shall move and reel\nlike a drunken man.  So now, farewell.  I fear we shall never meet\nagain.\u201d\n\nThe good priest then turned away from prince and people.  He re-entered\nthe church for evening song, while the prince and the mourners returned\nto the palace to make merry and be glad.  Before they arrived home, the\nday had disappeared, and the night had come.  Darkness had settled down\nupon the earth.  When they entered the palace, they little dreamt of\nbeing on the very brink of a precipice over which they would be hurled by\nthe fiat of the Eternal.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n_THE FATAL BANQUET_; _OR_, _VENGEANCE AT HAND_.\n\n\nThe palace of the Prince of Llynfi was characterized by drunkenness and\nvice, dissipation and sensuality, intemperance and debauchery.  Virtue\nhad no lodgment there.  Righteousness had no habitation there.  Justice,\nreligion, and truth were wholly absent from the palace of the prince.  He\nand his family gave themselves up to pleasure, to riotous living, and to\nrevellings; and from day to day, week to week, and month to month, they\nlived as if there was no God\u2014no hereafter\u2014no judgment to come!  Moreover,\nthey had so sunk in sin and iniquity, that they were quite insensible to\nthose feelings which are common and general, and indeed universal, in the\nlowest state of humanity.  Flower after flower of the family circle had\nwithered and died, or had been plucked from the tree of life by the will\nof the Almighty, yet from the heart of the survivors there never escaped\na sigh; never a tear was shed; their hearts had become a flinty rock, and\nwere as insensible of impression as the Parian marble.  Thus they lived:\nthus, too, they died; for at last they were cut down as cumberers of the\nground.\n\nBefore the untimely death of the son, the prince had arranged for a grand\nbanquet to take place on the very day his mortal remains were consigned\nto the tomb.  During the progress of preparation for the funeral,\npreparations were also being made for the expected banquet.  On their\nreturn from the church, many of the guests had already arrived and many\nmore soon followed.  By nine o\u2019clock the palace was filled with a\nsplendid array of the licentious male and female inhabitants of the\nvillages in the surrounding country.  According to old traditions, two\nrenowned minstrels from a distance had been summoned to cheer them in\ntheir revels; and riot and disorder, such as had never before been\nwitnessed even in that palace, resounded among the hills.  The party had\nbeen many hours assembled: it was midnight.  In the midst of their\nrevellings there was suddenly heard a crash of thunder, which shook the\npalace to its foundation; and this was immediately followed by louder and\nlouder peals, which boomed through the valley as the noise of a thousand\npieces of artillery.  The prince and his riotous companions were\nawe-struck, and presently they heard a voice saying in deep, solemn\ntones, \u201cVengeance is at hand!\u201d  In a moment the two minstrels arose, and\nbeholding in the air a mysterious hand beckoning to them, they fled after\nit as it retreated.  The hand moved faster and faster, and as it moved\nthey increased their speed.  After they had gone a considerable distance\nthe earth heaved violently, and appeared to totter on its foundations.\nFor a moment they turned round to see the distance they had come.  They\nsaw the ground divide in twain, and up through this large chasm they\nbeheld the waters rushing forth like the ocean when convulsed, and\nmingling with the roaring sound of the waters were the dying shrieks of\nthe revellers.  Pausing for another moment in their flight, the minstrels\nobserved, with great terror, a wide expanse of boiling and agitated\nwaters where the palace and village had stood, engulfing the palace and\nits wicked and impious inmates far below its bosom.  Since then, Llyn\nSavathan has ever been regarded as an unhallowed spot; the great\nwickedness of the prince and his followers having drawn upon them the\njust judgment of the Eternal.\n\n\n\n\nTREFFYNNON;\nOR,\nLEGENDS OF SAINT WINIFRED.\n\n\n    \u201cThe lifeless tears she shed into a fountain turn,\n    And, that for her alone the water should not mourn,\n    The pure vermilion blood that issued from her veins\n    Unto this very day the pearly gravel stains,\n    As erst the white and red were mix\u00e8d in her cheek.\n    And that one part of her might be the other like,\n    Her hair was turned to moss, whose sweetness doth declare,\n    In liveliness of youth the natural sweets she bare.\u201d\n\n                                                          MICHAEL DRAYTON.\n\nWhen but a mere youth, I had a strong and extreme longing to visit\nHolywell, or Treffynnon, which according to my youthful fancy was the\nmost wonderful place under the sun.  This desire had its origin in the\nfollowing circumstances.\n\nAbout three miles from my paternal abode there was situate a small\nvillage, which had risen into fame and notoriety by reason of its annual\nMay fair.  At this fair an immense number of people congregated.  Young\nmen and maidens were there.  Farmers\u2019 sons and daughters flocked in great\nnumbers; and this being the annual hiring fair, hundreds of men and women\nservants went to find either new masters or fresh mistresses.  Then from\nthe neighbouring towns and villages, people came for the purpose of\nproviding fun, amusement, and entertainment for the holiday seekers.\nShows innumerable were there; Mr. Cheap Jack vending his wares, with\nwhich he combined interesting stories and flashes of wit, had thousands\nof willing and enchanted listeners, and a goodly number of ready\npurchasers.  On the roadside from one end of the village to the other was\na continuous row of stalls, laden with every conceivable variety of\narticles.  All these marvellous things filled my boyish fancy with\namazement and wonder.\n\nBut what struck me most, was a person who had a stall situate near the\nbridge, on which were placed in rows several thousands of small wooden\nboxes, which in circumference were about the size of a crown piece, and\nthree quarters of an inch deep.  These boxes he arranged with great\ndeliberation and care, and when he completed his work, not a single box\ncould be seen out of its proper place.\n\nThis person was fantastically dressed.  He wore a three-cornered hat, the\nbrim of which was tipped with gold.  He had pink velvet breeches, with a\nwaistcoat of similar material; red stockings, and shoes with silver\nbuckles.  His frock coat, made of good West of England broadcloth, had,\nin consequence of many years\u2019 wear, become a dark blood colour.  In his\nhat were placed two rows of feathers, arranged in the form of the Prince\nof Wales\u2019 plume.  He was certainly a most singular looking figure, and\nfrom the hour when he commenced to expatiate on the virtues of his wares\nuntil the dusk of the evening, attracted an immense audience.\n\nWhen his preparations were finished, he took in his left hand one of the\nlittle boxes, from which he removed the lid, or cover, and commenced to\naddress the crowd in the following fashion.  \u201cThis box, ladies and\ngentlemen,\u201d he said, \u201ccontains wonderful ointment.  It will cure the\nitch, the stitch, and nettle-rash.  It is a sure remedy for all diseases\nof the skin.  It will, when applied, remove warts from the fingers, corns\nfrom the toes, and bunions from the feet.  It is an effectual cure for\ncuts, bruises, and for every kind of wounds.  Time, ladies and gentlemen,\nwould fail me to speak of its wonderful properties, and the history of\ncases it has cured would fill a dozen large volumes.  Every man should\ntherefore possess half a dozen boxes of this valuable salve.  They should\nbe placed in the nobleman\u2019s palace, in every farm house, in every poor\nman\u2019s cottage.  The use of this wonderful ointment will save you many a\nlong doctor\u2019s bill, and, between you and me, doctors are doing their best\nto stop its sale, because one box of this salve is worth a hundred visits\nof the physician.  People have paid lots of money to doctors without\ngetting any benefit; they then came to me, and by using one box only,\nwere made perfectly whole.  This ointment is the grandest discovery of\nthe age.  It was found out, not by man\u2019s skill, oh, no; but an angel came\nfrom distant worlds and directed my sainted mother how to make it.  The\nsecret is with me, and it must remain with me; for were it known, its\nefficacy would disappear.\n\n\u201cYou, ladies and gentlemen, would doubtless like to know the several\nconstituent parts of this justly renowned ointment, but as I have already\nsaid, I dare not reveal the secret.  The spirit of one who when on this\nearth was as pure as she was comely and beautiful, told the secret to my\nsainted mother.  I refer to Saint Winifred, who was murdered twelve\nhundred years ago.  From the spot on which she was beheaded, her head\nrolled down the declivity, and did not stop until it reached the altar of\nthe church, and immediately there sprang up a spring of water, which in\nvolume is unequalled in the world.  The wonderful salve is not called\nafter the saint, this her spirit forbade, but Eli Treffynnon, or Holywell\nsalve.  As I make it myself, I can offer to sell it at twopence per box,\nthough doctors charge sixpence for a far inferior article.  Twopence per\nbox being the price, for which I charge no more nor will I take less.\nWho will buy? who will buy?  Now is your time, for I shall not visit\nthese parts for twelve months.\u201d\n\nThe people then rushed to the vendor of Eli Treffynnon, and in less than\nan hour he had disposed of more than a thousand boxes of the ointment.\n\n\u201cA wonderful man that, is he not?\u201d said I to my companion.\n\n\u201cYes, truly.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Can you tell me where Treffynnon is?\n\n\u201cNot exactly,\u201d replied my companion; \u201cbut it is in the north.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  In the north of England or Scotland, which?\n\n\u201cOh, no, in neither; but in North Wales.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Is it a town or a village?\n\n\u201cA town, I believe; but it is not a large place.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Have you ever heard of the remarkable well before?\n\n\u201cOh, yes.  I\u2019ve seen an account of it in an old book.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  If I knew the way, I would go and see this wonderful fountain.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t talk nonsense.  Go two hundred miles to see a spring!\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Why not?\n\n\u201cWhy?  Because you can see plenty of fountains nearer home.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  But this is a well.\n\n\u201cYes; a well to be sure.  But don\u2019t the waters of all rivers come from\nwells?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Of course they do.  But it requires a hundred wells to make up\nthe Severn, the Wye, and the Ithon, but here is a large river from one\nwell, one spring.  I\u2019ll certainly go one of these days and see it.\n\nMany, many years, however, came, and passed away, before the design I\nthen formed was carried out.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nMy first visit to Holywell, or Treffynnon, took place just about the\nclose of the Crimean War.  I arrived in the town late one evening in mid\nwinter, but as the night was extremely dark, while the rain descended in\ntorrents, I refrained from leaving my hotel, the name of which I do not\nat present remember.  It was then the principal inn of the town, with a\nfirst rate bill of fare.\n\nBeing a private gentleman, and therefore debarred from joining the\ncommercials, breakfast was prepared for me in a snug little parlour which\nwas generally used by the landlady as her private sitting-room.  Before I\nhad taken my seat at the breakfast, the waitress came into the room, all\nsmiles, and asked me if I had any objection to a gentleman joining me at\nthe morning meal.\n\n\u201cWho is the gentleman?\u201d I asked the waitress.\n\n\u201cOh, Squire Eli, of Ffynnon Hall.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  What kind of a person is he?  Is he old or young, has he a\nhump on his back, and does he wear spectacles? is he a nice,\ngood-tempered fellow, or sour as crab beer?  Tell me, gentle maid, the\nkind of companion I am to be honoured with.\n\n\u201cOh, sir, how you do talk.  Squire is a nice, well-spoken gentleman; and\nI am sure you\u2019ll like him.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Show the gentleman up; but tell your mistress that she will be\na loser by his introduction, because I generally eat twice as much in\ncompany as when alone.\n\nPresently Mr. Eli made his appearance, and I expressed to him how greatly\npleased I was at his honouring me with his presence.\n\nHe replied to my remarks in a very neat speech, and said he was delighted\nin the opportunity of making my acquaintance, having heard of me from a\ncommon friend.\n\nBefore rising from the table I said, \u201cWhat a beautiful name you have\nselected for your seat!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen do you know Welsh?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I know a little; I wish I knew more.  It is the grandest\nlanguage under the sun.\n\n\u201cFor expressiveness and eloquence and poetry, you are right.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I presume you selected the name because you have a crystal\nfountain by the Hall?\n\n\u201cOh, dear, no.  There is a fountain it is true, but its existence in no\nway determined me to select the name; and, between us, I don\u2019t think\nthere is a similar designation for a house in North or South Wales.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Have you visited the south, Mr. Eli?\n\n\u201cVisited the South!  Why, there is not a town or village in the six\ncounties I\u2019ve not been in.  I know the country well.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you ever been at Bridgend, in the county of R.?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt Bridgend!  Of course I have; many and many a time.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  If I\u2019m not mistaken, I have seen you there.\n\n\u201cProbably you have; that is, if you ever attended its annual May fair.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Then you are the man, the veritable vendor of Eli Treffynnon?\n\n\u201cOf course I am.  I thought the waitress had duly informed you of that.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  No, no; but never mind.  I\u2019m delighted to see you.  Your\nspeech on your ointment awoke in my bosom an intense longing to see this\nplace; and I\u2019ve come almost specially to see for myself its wonders.  I\nhope, therefore, Mr. Eli, you have no special engagement this morning.\n\n\u201cAnd suppose I have not?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  In that case I trust you will be my cicerone.  I am extremely\nanxious to know the history and traditions of the wonderful well.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll accompany you with pleasure, and tell its wondrous history.  When\nshall we start?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Now, if you please.\n\nJust as we reached the lower part of the principal street, we saw a man\nwith measured steps approaching us.  The man had a leathern strap\nfastened round his neck, at the other end of which was suspended a large\nbell, a cushion being buckled to the right knee.  Every time the\ncushioned knee came forward the bell jingled, and it being of\nconsiderable size its tones could be heard a long distance from the scene\nof the man\u2019s perambulations.  When he came up to the place where we were\nstanding, I asked Mr. Eli the question,\u2014\n\n\u201cIs that man mad?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy no means: he is in his right mind.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  No sane man, I should think, would be guilty of such folly.\n\n\u201cThe man,\u201d replied Mr. Eli, \u201cis doing a Christian duty.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I fail to see any act of devotion in carrying a bell about the\ntown.  Please, Mr. Eli, explain yourself.\n\n\u201cYou, a stranger, very naturally conclude the man is demented.  When you\nknow the object of his mission you will come to a different opinion.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Pray, Mr. Eli, enlighten me.\n\n\u201cWe have a church here, my dear sir.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Yes.\n\n\u201cThat church is situate in a hole at the head of a deep dell.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  But what has that to do with this man?\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d replied Mr. Eli; \u201cwe cannot, up the town, hear the church chimes,\nthough we are not two hundred yards from them.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  But the man does not carry your church bells on his knee.\n\n\u201cOh, dear me, no; but this man walks round the town just before divine\nservice, and the ringing of his bell warns the people that it is time for\nthem to go to church.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  A singular invention, certainly.  Pity they built the church\nin such an outlandish place.\n\n_Mr. Eli_.  Oh, don\u2019t say so.  The church was built there by direction.\nIt is close to the well of St. Winifred, the healing waters of which, as\nyou are aware, are celebrated far and near.\n\n_Myself_.  Then the tales you and others tell about the efficacy of the\nwaters of the fountain are really true?\n\n\u201cYes, of course, they are perfectly true.  When all is said and written\nabout the waters, we can truly say that the half is not told.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I should like to possess a true and authentic history of the\nplace.\n\n\u201cDoubtless,\u201d replied Mr. Eli, \u201cyou would.  Its history has yet to be\nwritten.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  There is, then, evidence, Mr. Eli, that people who have bathed\nin its waters have been made whole?\n\n\u201cYes; plenty of evidence,\u201d replied Mr. Eli; \u201cand if you will now\naccompany me to the well, I\u2019ll show you some of the many witnesses.\u201d\n\nWhen we entered the building, my friend conducted me to a spot where we\nhad a good view of the interior.  He pointed with his finger to the roof,\nat the same time remarking, \u201cUp there, look up there, for there is the\nevidence, the witnesses, to which I referred.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Do you mean those barrows, hand carts, crutches, and staves,\nand other things too numerous to mention, fastened to the ceiling?\n\n\u201cOf course I do.  Are they not irresistible witnesses to the healing\npower of these waters?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I really fail to see your point, Mr. Eli.  Pray explain\nyourself more fully.\n\n\u201cPeople come here,\u201d said my friend, \u201cfrom all parts of the world.  Some\ncome on wheel-barrows, some on crutches, some by the aid of\nwalking-sticks; they bathe in these healing waters, like they did when\nour Lord was upon earth, and are cleansed.  They leave here new men and\nwomen, and having no further need of either crutch or barrow, leave them\nbehind as witnesses to the power of this wonderful fountain.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  You have greatly excited my curiosity, Mr. Eli.  Pray furnish\nme with some information respecting the history of this place.\n\n\u201cYou are heartily welcome to the facts and traditions I have been\nfortunate enough to succeed in collecting, which can be briefly told.\nThey are as follows:\u2014\n\n\u201cOnce upon a time, that is, about twelve hundred and twenty-five years\nago, this Treffynnon was a royal city, and then the king\u2019s palace was\nwithin its precincts.  The then reigning sovereign was Allen the First,\nand his dominion extended over the whole of the hundred of Coleshill,\nfrom the royal mines of which he derived a princely income.  The king had\na son of the name of Cradocus, a name which has led old writers to\nconclude that his mother was a daughter of some Roman, who, preferring\nthis country to his own, and having espoused a British lady, settled down\nhere.\n\n\u201cAt the time of which I speak, there resided in Holywell a potent lord of\nthe Trewith, who married Lady Wento, an only sister of Saint Beuno,\ndescendants of an ancient and illustrious Montgomeryshire family.  The\nonly issue of this marriage was a daughter, a beautiful and lovely\nmaiden, who was as pure as she was beautiful, whose name was Winifred.\n\n\u201cWhen she had grown up to be a young lady, her uncle, Saint Beuno, who\nresided at Clynnog, in Carnarvonshire, came on one occasion to this royal\ntown to pay a friendly visit to his family.  During his stay he obtained\na grant of land from Lord Trewith, his brother-in-law, upon which he\nerected a church.  Now the altar of that church was close by yon bubbling\nfountain.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Have you historical proofs of this, Mr. Eli? I asked.\n\n\u201cYou will see by-and-by the evidence upon which I rely.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Pray proceed; your narrative is deeply interesting.\n\n\u201cAfter the erection of the church,\u201d Mr. Eli continued, \u201cSaint Beuno took\nunder his charge his niece Winifred, who vowed to remain a virgin, and to\ndevote her life to works of charity, mercy, and religion.\n\n\u201cOn a lovely Sunday evening, on the 22nd of June, the Lady Winifred left\nher parents\u2019 castle for the purpose of taking a walk in the cool of the\nday.  When she attained the summit of the hill her progress was stayed by\nPrince Cradocus, who, being struck with her extreme beauty, at once made\na proposal of marriage.\n\n\u201c\u2018Prince,\u2019 replied Lady Winifred, \u2018I can form no earthly ties.  I have\nalready vowed my life and wealth to the work of my Saviour.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018But, noble and beautiful lady, I have sworn you shall be mine, and\nnothing shall prevent the fulfilment of my oath.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Your offer, illustrious prince, comes too late; my vow is irrevocable.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Pray, Lady Winifred, don\u2019t say that.  Your hand I am resolved to\npossess, and you shall share with me the throne of my ancestors.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018For earthly thrones, prince, I care not; my treasures are not here but\nabove.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018If you persist, noble lady, in your refusal, I am resolved to effect my\nobject by force.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You dare not do that, prince.  You must not further molest me.  Stand\nby, for I would proceed on my way.\u2019\n\n\u201cCradocus was vexed at being thus robbed of his prey, and getting into a\nfearful passion, took his sword from its sheath, and there and then,\u2014oh,\nhorror of horrors! cut off the head of the virgin.  For his guilty act,\nvengeance from on high soon overtook him.  On the spot where he committed\nthe crime, he fell down a dead man, and the earth opening, swallowed his\nimpious corpse. {260}  There is, however, a tradition, that Cradocus\u2019s\nmaster, the devil, carried off his body to the dismal regions of despair.\n\n\u201cNow about the well.  I\u2019ve told you, that it was on the hillside above\nhere where Cradocus committed the foul deed.  It appears that when the\nhead was severed from the body it commenced to roll down the steep hill\nby which we descended, and stopped when it reached the altar, before\nwhich a number of devout people were kneeling.  The very moment the head\nstopped there came up this fountain, the waters of which possess the same\nmiraculous power as did those waters of the pool of Bethesda referred to\nin the Gospel of St. John.\n\n\u201cIt appears Saint Beuno was the officiating priest at the altar when this\nsad event took place.  Recognising the head as that of his beloved niece,\nhe took it up, and ran with it to where the mangled body lay, to which he\nrejoined it.  To the astonishment of all present, the head at once united\nitself to the body, the place of separation being only marked by a white\nring or line, which extended round the neck.  From that hour she was\ncalled Saint Winifred, and was always after regarded as a holy person, a\nspecial vessel chosen by Christ to do His work.  After this event she\nlived fifteen years, and gained universal fame by her deeds of love and\ncharity.  Well, though more than twelve hundred years have come and gone\nsince then, this fountain is as powerful to-day as it was then in healing\nand in curing diseases.  Hundreds, aye, thousands, have blessed the day\non which they bathed in this Iach\u00e2d Ffynnon\u2014healing fountain.  Now, my\nstory is done.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  And a most interesting tale it is, Mr. Eli, for which I thank\nyou very much.  There is one more circumstance I wish to be informed of\nin order to have a complete history of the sainted lady.\n\n\u201cTo what do you refer?\u201d asked Mr. Eli.\n\n_Myself_.  I presume the lady died here.\n\n\u201cOh yes; she died in her father\u2019s mansion.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  In that case, I presume, her sepulchre is in your churchyard?\n\n\u201cNot so, my friend,\u201d replied Mr. Eli.\n\n_Myself_.  Then she was not buried here?\n\n\u201cNo, she was not interred here, and for this reason.  Her uncle, Saint\nBeuno, died on the 21st of April, 660, and his remains were interred in\nthe Abbey Church of Bardsey Island.  On his death, Saint Winifred retired\nto Gwytheriu, and placed herself under the protection of St. Elerius, who\nat that time was living in devotional seclusion in that sequestered\nmountain village.  At that time there was there a convent of nuns under\nthe superintendence of Theonia.  Saint Winifred assumed the veil, and on\nthe death of Theonia became the abbess.  On her death, the remains were\nremoved from Treffynnon to Gwytheriu, and interred near the graves of St.\nCybi and St. Sannan.  After a lapse of five hundred years from the date\nof her death, the bones of St. Winifred were removed with great pomp to\nthe church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Shrewsbury.  The wooden chest in\nwhich the remains were preserved is still kept.  The translation of the\nsaint\u2019s remains took place in the reign of King Stephen.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  It\u2019s a pity that no monument to her memory has been erected\nhere.  Don\u2019t you think so, Mr. Eli?\n\n\u201cI cannot share your opinion, my friend.  This well and its wonderful\ncures are monuments which will live when Parian marble shall crumble into\ndust.  But there is another monument.  Observe,\u201d said Mr. Eli, \u201cthe sweet\nscented moss which grows there by the well-side, the _Jungermannia\nesplenoides_ of Linn\u00e6us.  On each anniversary of the decollation of Saint\nWinifred, this moss, and the stones of the fountain, assume the colour of\nblood.  This annual change in the tint of the moss is an immortal\nmonument of the dear departed saint, as if it said:\u2014\n\n    \u201cFor thee, blest maid, my tears, my endless pain,\n    Shall in immortal monuments remain.\n    The image of thy death each year renew,\n    And prove my grief, to distant ages, true.\u201d\n\nAfter making a general inspection of the well, and examining the\ngrotesque figures of animals and other works of sculpture, my friend and\nI paid a brief visit to the chapel over the well.  During our stay there,\nhe placed in my hand a copy of the following letter, addressed by the\nqueen of James II., to Sir Roger Mostyn.\n\n    \u201cSIR ROGER MOSTYN,\u2014\n\n    \u201cIt having pleased the king, by his royal grant, to bestow upon me\n    the ancient chapel adjoining St. Winifred\u2019s Well, these are to desire\n    you to give present possession, in my name, of the said chapel, to\n    Mr. Thomas Roberts, who will deliver this letter into your hands.  It\n    being also my intention to have the place decently repaired, and put\n    to a good use, I further desire that you will afford him your favour\n    and protection, that he may not be disturbed in the performance\n    thereof.  You may rest assured that what you do herein, according to\n    my desire, shall be very kindly remembered by\n\n                                                        \u201cYour good friend,\n                                                             \u201cMARY REGINA.\n\n    \u201cWHITEHALL,\n          _May_ 8_th_, 1687.\u201d\n\nOn leaving the chapel, I cordially thanked my friend for the information\nhe had imparted respecting the Winifred legend; and told him, that some\nday I would try to make his name and his Eli Treffynnon as immortal as\nthe saint whose history he had so eloquently told.  But before my tale\nsees the light, my entertainer has gone to that bourne from whence no\ntraveller returns; yet it may be,\u2014who knows?\u2014that his spirit still visits\nour world, and communes with dear ones and friends left behind.\n\n              [Picture: View of Swansea in September, 1748]\n\n\n\n\nTHE VISIT OF ELIDORUS TO THE FAIRY KINGDOM BENEATH THE BAY.\n\n\nA short time before our visit to Swansea, wrote Giraldus Cambrensis, a\ncircumstance worthy of note occurred in these parts, which Elidorus, a\npriest, most strenuously affirmed had befallen him.  When a youth of\ntwelve years, and learning his letters, since, as Solomon says, \u201cThe root\nof learning is bitter, although the fruit is sweet,\u201d in order to avoid\nthe discipline and frequent stripes inflicted on him by his preceptor, he\nran away, and concealed himself under the hollow bank of a river.  After\nfasting in that situation for two days, two little men of pigmy stature\nappeared to him, saying, \u201cIf you will come with us, we will lead you into\na country full of delights and sports.\u201d  Assenting and rising up, he\nfollowed his guides through a path, at first subterraneous and dark, into\na most beautiful country, adorned with rivers and meadows, woods and\nplains, but obscure, and not illuminated with the full light of the sun.\nAll the days were cloudy, and the nights extremely dark, on account of\nthe absence of the moon and stars.  The boy was brought before the king,\nand introduced to him in the presence of the court; who, having examined\nhim for a long time, delivered him to his son, who was then a boy.  The\nmen were of the smallest stature, but very well proportioned in their\nmake; they were all of a fair complexion, with luxuriant hair falling\nover their shoulders like that of women.  They had horses and greyhounds\nadapted to their size.  They neither ate flesh nor fish, but lived on\nmilk diet, made up into messes with saffron.  They never took an oath,\nfor they detested nothing so much as lies.  As often as they returned\nfrom our upper hemisphere, they reprobated our ambition, infidelities,\nand inconstancies.  They had no form of public worship, being strict\nlovers and reverers, as it seemed, of truth.\n\nThe boy frequently returned to our hemisphere, sometimes by the way he\nhad first gone, sometimes by another; at first in company with other\npersons, and afterwards alone; and made himself known only to his mother,\ndeclaring to her the manners, nature, and state of that people.  Being\ndesired by her to bring a present of gold, with which that region\nabounded, he stole, when at play with the king\u2019s son, the golden ball\nwith which he used to divert himself, and brought it to his mother in\ngreat haste; and when he reached the door of his father\u2019s house, but not\nunpursued, and was entering it in a great hurry, his foot stumbled on the\nthreshold, and falling down into the room where his mother was sitting,\nthe two pigmies seized the ball, which had dropped from his hand, and\ndeparted, showing the boy every mark of contempt and derision.  On\nrecovering from the fall, confounded with shame, and execrating the evil\ncounsel of his mother, he returned by the usual track to the\nsubterraneous road, but found no appearance of any passage, though he\nsearched for it on the banks of the river (Tawe) for nearly the space of\na year.  But since those calamities which reason cannot mitigate are\noften alleviated by time, and length of time alone blunts the edge of our\nafflictions, and puts an end to many evils, the youth having been brought\nback by his friends and mother, and restored to his right way of\nthinking, and to his learning, in process of time attained the rank of\npriesthood.  Whenever David II., Bishop of St. David\u2019s, talked to him in\nhis advanced state of life concerning this event, he could never relate\nthe particulars without shedding tears.  He had made himself acquainted\nwith the language of that nation, the words of which, in his younger\ndays, he used to recite, which, as the bishop had often informed me, were\nvery conformable to the Greek idiom.  When they asked for water, they\nsaid, \u201cYdor ydorum,\u201d which meant, bring water; for \u201cydor,\u201d in their\nlanguage, signifies water, and dwr also, in the British language,\nsignifies water.  When they wanted salt they said, \u201cHalgein ydorum,\u201d\nbring salt.  Salt is called halen in British.\n\n[So far the narrative of Giraldus Cambrensis.  We are happy to be able to\nlay before our readers some further details, hitherto unpublished, of the\nearly life of Elidorus, and of his visits to the fairy kingdom beneath\nthe bay.]\n\nOn the brow of Town Hill, and commanding a magnificent view of Swansea\nBay, the channel, and their circumjacent coast, with the Devonian range\nof mountains in the distance; there stood, at the time of which we write,\na small thatched cottage, with mud or clay walls, which was then occupied\nby Sh\u00f4n Gwyllt, his wife Mary, and their son John, an only child.\n\nSh\u00f4n, as had been his father and his grandfather before him, was a\nfisherman, which, in those times, was a highly remunerative business.\nFish of all kinds were then abundant, and they commanded a ready market.\nIn the bay were shoals of conger, cod, mullet, sole, whiting, and\nflat-fish; while, in the season, the fishermen were often fortunate\nenough to secure in their nets sea trout and salmon, which, for delicacy\nof flavour, were unequalled in the British seas and rivers, the Tawe\nexcepted.  In the Tawe salmon were as plentiful as the daisy on the\nverdant mead in early summer.  The waters of that river then, and for\nseveral hundred years after, were as clear as the crystal dewdrops.  Now\nit was on that delightful, that glossy and pellucid river that Sh\u00f4n\nGwyllt plied his trade, and the sylvan groves on its banks resounded with\nthe sound of his rich tenor voice.  Sh\u00f4n loved a good song, and the echo\nof his voice in the near and distant groves had for him a peculiar charm.\n\nWe have already observed that Sh\u00f4n plied his calling on the Tawe.  He had\na horror of the sea.  Upon its waters he never ventured.  Nothing could\ninduce him to join his brother fishermen in the bay.  Though they often\ntempted him by predicting that they would certainly have a splendid haul\nof fish, yet the prospect of a rich reward for his labour had no\ninfluence on his mind.  To their solicitation he used to reply, \u201cThe Tawe\nhas been a good and generous parent to me, so I shall not forsake the\nkind and rich old mother.\u201d  And Sh\u00f4n did not forsake her.  Day after day,\nduring the season, he might be seen with his coracle on his back, wending\nhis way down Mount Pleasant and across the fields to the Tawe (there were\nno houses there then), and thence he fished up the river as far as\nMorriston, which at that time consisted of a few clod-built huts.  It was\nbut seldom that he ventured above that village, though occasionally, and\nonce in a way, he fished up to Ynistawe, but never went so high up the\nstream as Penllwch.  His aversion to Penllwch appears to have arisen from\nthe circumstance that his cousin met with an untimely end there, and Sh\u00f4n\ndreaded to fish the deep pools under Glais, where the young man, whom he\nloved as a brother, was drowned.\n\nAlthough Sh\u00f4n was passionately fond of his trade, yet, strange to say, he\nwas strongly opposed to his son following in his footsteps.  He reasoned\nthus: It is an occupation in which there is a great risk of life.  The\nfisherman has to contend with bad seasons, and occasionally fish is a\ndrug in the market.  The business is not respectable; those engaged in it\nare men of the lowest class, ignorant, drunken, and improvident, living\nfrom hand to mouth, never saving a penny against a rainy day.  Instead of\nallowing young John to accompany him, he resolved to send him to school;\nand to school accordingly his son was duly sent.  John, however, hated\nschool, and intensely disliked his preceptor, a dislike he gloried in\nexhibiting whenever an opportunity offered itself.  The teacher resented\nthe boy\u2019s conduct by the free use of the cane.  In the severity of\npunishment he had no mercy, and to escape chastisement young Gwyllt often\nabsented himself from school.  The hours thus spent were among the\nhappiest of his boyhood.  After his father had gone, John would walk down\nto the Tawe, and leaping into a stranded coracle, he, with his paddle,\nwould spend hour after hour in skimming over the waters.  When he got\ntired, he would row to the bank, and fastening his little boat to the\nstake, lie down to rest.  The remainder of the youth\u2019s story we shall\ntell in his own words, which are as follows:\u2014\n\nI lay me down on the banks of Tawe\u2019s crystal waters, and slept.  In my\nsleep, behold I had a dream.  In my dream or vision I saw a man\napproaching who was exceeding small in stature.  He was clad in rich\napparel, and the fastenings of his garments\u2014which were as white as the\nwinter\u2019s snow\u2014were of pure gold, rubies, and other precious gems.  When\nhe came up to the place where I lay, he addressed me in the softest and\nsweetest voice I had ever heard, and the voice said, \u201cOh, youth with\nruddy cheeks and curly locks, why sleepest thou, seeing it is only the\nthird hour after the sun of thy world has passed his meridian?\u201d\n\n\u201cI sleep,\u201d I replied, \u201cto forget the past, to drown the very thought of\nexistence.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith youth,\u201d said the voice, \u201cthere is nothing to regret.  The days of\nyouth are days of innocence and pleasure.  Every breeze fans the flame of\ndelight.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut my sorrow, sweet voice, does not spring from the heart\u2019s passion or\npaternal unkindness, but from stripes inflicted upon my body by a\ntyrannical and cruel teacher, a man who has no mercy nor kindness of\nheart.\u201d\n\n\u201cMethinks you neglect your lesson,\u201d said the voice, \u201cand your preceptor\nuses the rod in order to teach you to be wise and learned.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf that be so, I\u2019d rather be ignorant with whole bones, than learned\nwith the lash so frequently used on my back.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a saying in your country, is there not?\u201d said the voice,\n\u201c\u2018spare the rod; spoil the child.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes; there is such a proverb, though I believe in it not.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you then believe in, my child?\u201d asked the voice.\n\n\u201cI believe in gentleness and kindness.  The victory that overcometh the\nworld is love.  Love will soften the hardest heart, subdue the most\nstubborn will, and melt the hardest natures like wax is melted in the\nfire.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you worked hard at your books, and were attentive to your lessons,\nyour master would probably be kind to you.  You should remember that\nyouth is the time to acquire knowledge, and that its possession is one of\nthe most pleasurable things on earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cKnowledge might be all you say in its favour, sweet voice, but I care\nnot for it.  One day spent on the banks of this beautiful river, or\nskimming on the bosom of its limpid and crystal waters in some friend\u2019s\ncoracle, from which I often watch the finny tribe below in their plays\nand gambols\u2014is better to me than a thousand anywhere else.  The waters of\nthe Tawe are to me a source of exquisite delight, an unspeakable charm.\nI could gaze upon them for ever.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, comely youth,\u201d said the voice, \u201cyou speak what you know, and I must\nown to being charmed with your enthusiasm.  You are young, and your\nvision is contracted.  You are inexperienced; your world is bounded by\nthe surrounding horizon.  If you will come with me, I will show you\nfairer climes than these, more beautiful landscapes, grander hills and\nmountains; vales infinitely more lovely, and streamlets, brooks and\nrivers, which surpass in splendour and sublimity all other running waters\nof the world.  Besides, in my country, everything is beautiful.  The gold\nis as abundant there as are the stones on this lowland strand or on\nocean\u2019s tidal shore.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have drawn, sweet voice, a charming picture of your country, but\nwhere is it?  Is it an ideal or a real kingdom?  If it be real, I would\nvisit if I knew the way.  Pray tell me the road which leads to a world so\nresplendently beautiful.\u201d\n\n\u201cFair youth,\u201d said the voice, \u201cthe road is nigh thee; it is close to\nwhere thou sleepest.  I will conduct thee there.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn one condition only will I be thy companion.\u201d\n\n\u201cName your condition, and if it be in my power, it shall be granted.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat you solemnly promise to guide me back again to my own native\nsphere, in the event of my failing to find the way.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I promise.  Further, you shall have perfect liberty to stay, or to\nreturn to this upper world, at any time you desire.  I will, too, be your\ncompanion.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who art thou?  What, too, is thy name?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a prince of my kingdom; and my name is Tippin.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your highness\u2019 position at the royal court?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am chancellor of my royal master, King Penaf, the wisest and best of\nmonarchs.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray prince, is your king a giant like you?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn wisdom, yes.  But fair youth, you should judge all men, not by their\nstature, but by their wise words, weighty sayings, and just decrees.  The\nmind is the standard of man, for mind is the man.  But don\u2019t let us tarry\nlonger.  Awake! awake! oh sleeper; arise from your couch of sand; let us\naway, for my hour of departure has come.\u201d\n\nWhen I awoke, I found myself being carried through a dimly-lighted tunnel\non the wings of the wind; I say on the wings of the wind for I was not\nconscious that any palpable substance touched my body.  The further we\nreceded from the earth, the wider and loftier became the subterranean\npassage; and by means of the dim light, I discerned rocks of gold and\nprecious stones.  When we arrived at the end of the passage, there\nappeared in the distance a scene which filled my bosom with wonder and\nadmiration; never had I previously beheld such a combination of beauty.\nHow shall I describe it!  This I cannot do, for it passes description;\nfar grander, infinitely grander, was the scene than anything I had ever\nwitnessed.\n\nIn the distance were high hills and Alpine heights, plains and meads, and\ndells, which were covered with grass of emerald green.  I could see\nneither sun, nor moon, nor stars; but the country was illumined by a\nbeautiful blue soft light which was delightful, and most agreeable to the\neye.  Between day and night, there appeared no perceptible difference;\nwhile in those regions, summer and winter, spring and autumn, were\nunknown.  Their year was distinguished by no seasons; they enjoyed a\nperpetual spring.  Beautiful was their clime, exquisitely lovely was\ntheir country, singular and mysterious were the people.\n\nAs regards the climate, it had no variation.  There was always there a\nsoft, gentle, and warm breeze; which produced the most delectable\nsensation.  This breeze appeared to possess life-giving and\nlife-sustaining properties.  When it came, as it sometimes did, in\nstronger currents than was generally the case, the old would repair to\nthe mountain tops or bwllchs, and after two or three hours\u2019 stay would\nreturn to the plain strong, blooming, and hale.  But more of this anon.\n\nImmediately after our arrival in the open country, the prince conducted\nme in silence to a building, the walls of which were formed of the finest\nmarble.  Its entrance was guarded by two little men, even less in stature\nthan my conductor, who made obeisance as we passed.  The prince conducted\nme up a flight of stairs, and then through several rooms, containing rich\nand costly furniture; at last we came to a door on which was printed in\nletters of gold \u201cThe King\u2019s Chamber.\u201d  This chamber we entered.  Having\nplaced a chair beside me for my use, he then walked to the other side of\nthe chamber, where there was a curious instrument fastened to a silver\nslab, and touched a small spring.  There was attached to the instrument a\nthread or wire of the most delicate workmanship, which quivered at the\ntouch; presently I heard the sound of a bell, which was followed by\nseveral ticks, and when the ticks ceased, the prince remarked that the\nroyal carriage from Dinas Aur would arrive there in half an hour, in\norder to take us to the golden city.\n\n\u201cAnd how far is it to your city?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cThe actual distance is one hundred and twenty miles.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut your carriage travels more swiftly than the flight of the bird?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, is it safe to go so fast?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, perfectly safe.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour assurance contents me.  Will you, please, answer me one question,\nnamely: as you appear to travel about 250 miles in an hour, I want to\nknow in what consists your motive power?  Surely your horses can\u2019t travel\nso rapidly as that?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no; we don\u2019t use horses.  In these regions we make nature administer\nto our every want.  We shall travel through the air, which we use to\npropel us along; more I cannot say, as this singular phenomenon is beyond\nmy comprehension.  The thing was discovered by our wise men, who keep the\nsecret in their own breasts.  Look, my young friend,\u201d said the prince,\naddressing me; \u201cthe carriage is coming, do you observe its approach?\u201d\n\nWhen I looked, I saw something like a black spot in the air; it appeared\nlike a small bird.  Presently it became more distinct, and before I was\nreally aware, the royal carriage had arrived, having come nearly five\nminutes earlier than we expected.  At once we stepped into the royal\nsaloon.  Presently I discovered the carriage moving.  When we ascended\nsome twenty yards above the earth, we were carried at a fearful pace\nthrough the air; I perceived it was kept up by means of wings, which were\nmade of material which in appearance was silk.  These wings were of great\ndimensions, but were extended or contracted in size according to the\npower and force of the current.  The propelling agency was compressed\nair, but how this worked, and whether it was combined with other gases or\nnot, I could not learn.  I found the travelling exceedingly pleasant;\nwhen I closed my eyes I could not detect the least motion.  Objects came\nand went, we appeared to pass them as rapidly as the moving clouds in a\nterrible storm, or falling stars on a bright November night.  We arrived\nat our destination a few minutes earlier than we anticipated.  The prince\nconducted me to the royal palace, and placing me in charge of some\nimportant state functionary, repaired to the council of his royal master;\nwhen he left, he said he would not be long, and on returning he would\njoin me for the evening.  I must own, that I felt extremely sorry to have\nto part, even for a short time, from one who was so kind and so\nagreeable; and I felt this the more in consequence of the peculiar\nposition in which I was placed.  I was now the denizen of a strange\nworld, and surrounded by a strange race.\n\nDuring the absence of Prince Tippin I began to realize my position.  I\nthought what a fool I was in leaving my home and country, the anxiety my\nabsence would cause my parents, and the uncertainty of my ever seeing\nthem again.  This thought deeply moved me.  I was exceedingly uneasy in\nboth mind and conscience; I could neither sit nor lie still for three\nconsecutive minutes.  At last, after examining every article in the room,\nI asked the attendant if he could give me any kind of book or writing\nmaterial, by the aid of which I hoped to forget myself.  The attendant\ninformed me that they did not use books, that their knowledge was orally\nhanded down from father to son, from the priests to the people, and thus\nall the inhabitants became wise.\n\nWhen the prince returned dinner was served up in the ante-room,\u2014a fine\nhall, radiantly lighted up.  Our first course was soup made of choice\nherbs, which was not only extremely satisfying but exceedingly palatable.\nOf this I partook heartily.  When the dishes were removed our attendant\nbrought in milk thickened with meal, coloured with saffron; this was\nserved up in basins of gold.  Afterwards we had tarts, pies, and fruit of\nthe most delicious flavour; the fruit resembled the pear, but was sweeter\nand more juicy.\n\nAfter the meal was over, I asked the prince if he would give me a glass\nof wine.\n\n\u201cMy young friend,\u201d replied the prince, \u201cI regret to be unable to comply\nwith your wish.  Wines, and all kinds of alcoholic drinks, are prohibited\nfrom being used by the law of the State; I dare not, therefore, supply\nyou with this beverage, even if I had it in my possession.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why, excellency, have you such a singular law?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor various reasons.  Would you wish to be furnished with the cause of\nthe existence of such an enactment?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will confer upon me a personal favour by stating the reasons for the\nexistence of such a regulation.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese are the reasons.  We want the minds of our people to be clear and\nbright, and their intellectual vision unclouded.  Is not that important?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, certainly.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgain; in these dominions, crime, destitution, poverty, pauperism, and\nwrong-doing are unknown; but if our people, like yours, imbibed\nspirituous liquors, crimes would be as frequent and poverty as widely\nspread as are those terrible evils in your kingdom!\u201d\n\n\u201cI readily admit the force of your reasoning; I am bound to own that the\ndrinking customs of my country are the real causes of our more serious\nnational evils.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, sir, your government ought to enact stringent laws in order to\ndiminish the cause of those evils.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are a race of free men, living in a free country, and I am afraid\nthat no government will for some years be strong enough to battle\nsuccessfully with this custom.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou pass laws to suppress vice; and drunkenness being one of the\ngreatest vices of your people, and the parent of all others, I can see no\nreason why you should not put down this traffic by legislation.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour excellency may be right in your conclusion.  The evil is a terrible\nblot on our civilization; were we a strictly sober race, we should be by\nfar the grandest people on earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy own observations lead me to the same conclusion; but for the present\nwe must put an end to the argument.  It is time for you to retire.  Your\nattendant awaits you.  To-morrow we shall meet again, though I am afraid\nonly for a few minutes, as I have to pay a visit to a distant part of the\nempire.\u201d\n\nThe next morning I breakfasted alone.  Though I saw during the morning\nseveral of the little people passing along the lawn in front of my\nwindow, I did not venture to speak to them, nor did any member of the\nrace pay me a visit.\n\nAbout midday the door of my room was opened, and a little gentleman\nwalked into the hall, and, without saying a word, sat down in a vacant\nchair opposite the one on which I was seated.  After examining my\nappearance, he observed, \u201cI presume you are the stranger who accompanied\nPrince Tippin to the palace last evening?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am the stranger, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope the attendant has shown you every courtesy, and has not been\nwanting in hospitality.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the prince and attendant I have received every consideration; and\nas for the fare, sir, I might have gone further and fared worse.  I like\nyour food much.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is a very different country from yours, is it not?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Yes; widely different.\n\n\u201cI presume you find it strange to have light without a sun or moon or\nstars?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I miss the genial light of the sun; but there is a softness, a\nreflected beauty, in the light here which we do not possess in our\ndiurnal luminary.\n\n\u201cOur light is uniform, as is our climate.  In the northern regions of\nyour country the sun constantly shines during several months of your\nyear, which is followed by continuous darkness or night, when the\ninhabitants have to reside in snow or ice-built houses.  Dreary must be\nthe life of a people so circumstanced.  You have in your climate genial\nand joyous spring, when nature revives from the dead and puts on her\nyouthful and gay apparel, when the thorn, the citron, and the apple-tree\nbud and blossom;\u2014beautiful is your spring, the loveliest and most\ncharming season of your year.  Then comes your summer, with its green\nmeads, and fields of waving corn, and rich fruit.  No artist can paint,\nno language can set forth, the grandeur of your clime during autumn.\nWhat have you afterwards?  Cold, icy, and chilling winter, with its dank\nand cold atmosphere; with your hills, mountains, and even your dales,\ncovered with snow.  In winter your country seems dead, clay-like, and\nlifeless; sad and dreary to me is your winter scene.  In this land we\nhave perpetual spring.  In all the months of the year the orange, the\ncitron, and the apple-tree send forth their buds and blossoms and their\nripe and rich fruit; our valleys and mountains are always green, a\ncircumstance which to you, doubtless, appears very strange.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Is that really so?  Do your fields and trees and hillsides\npresent at all times the same hue?\n\n\u201cYes; the colour never alters, and nature in this region is never weary\nin its development, and never halts in the manifestation of her power;\nshe goes from strength to strength, and with increased vigour as the\nyears roll on.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  A strange phenomenon this!  Can you account for the existence\nof such perennial inherent power?\n\n\u201cOh yes.  Upon our mountains, valleys, and plains there perpetually\ndescend from above constant showers of ethereal riches.  Our earth thus\ndaily receives from heaven even more riches than she gives in flower and\nfruit, and grass, and vegetable matter.  Thus she daily and hourly\nbecomes richer and more bountiful.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  But suppose the spring, the perennial fountain, of this\nlife-giving bounty and luxuriance, were to fail or to dry up, what would\nbe your position then?  From whence could you then obtain your supply?\n\n\u201cOf such a calamity we entertain no dread.  For thousands of years this\nprocess has been going on, and through years unnumbered it will be\ncontinued.  In your world there is a gradual decay; nature there is\nexhausting herself.  For the present you have enough and to spare; but\nhow will it be, what will your people do, when the virgin soil of the\nworld on the other side of the Atlantic becomes exhausted?  That time\nmust come; what will your people do then?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Before that day arrives humanity will become etherealized,\nspirit-like, and super-mundane.  As a race, sir, we are not destined to\ncontinue the sordid, cloddy, and vulgar eating people we now are.  Oh,\nno; the earthly tabernacle is to be put off, and we shall live on angels\u2019\nfood.\n\n\u201cYour race then, sir, has the hope and prospect of dwelling in a sphere\nbeyond your present world?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Most assuredly.\n\n\u201cWho is to be the king of that world?  Who the ruler?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  The king will be the great Unseen and Eternal, the\nself-existent and self-created Being who rules heaven\u2019s armies and\nearth\u2019s inhabitants.\n\n\u201cThis is the Being, is it not, whom your nation worship and adore?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Yes; and we are to live with Him for ever, and enjoy His\nfellowship.  And don\u2019t you believe in Him too?\n\n\u201cAlas! no; I wish we did.  When I consider how beautiful our clime and\ncountry are,\u2014our friendship, associations, consciousness, friends,\nrelations,\u2014I often shudder at the thought of annihilation.  Sometimes I\nam terribly oppressed with the thought of ceasing to be, and the more\nthoughtful of my race hold similar opinions and feelings.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  What do you and your people worship?  Who is the object of\nyour adoration?\n\n\u201cWe worship truth; a thing not a person; an idea, not a reality; a form,\nbeautiful though it be, and not a substance.  It is awful to think that\nthe grave is to be the end of our joys, pleasures, and delights.  In the\nmatter of worship, you are right and we are wrong; you are the wise ones,\nwe the fools.  But you have, methinks, too much of form in your manner of\nworshipping your Supreme.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I agree with your last remark; but pray tell me how you have\nacquired such an intimate knowledge of our affairs.\n\n\u201cBy frequent visits to your land, and by mixing with your people.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I never saw a member of your race until I was fortunate enough\nto meet Prince Tippin.\n\n\u201cPerhaps not; but I have traversed the whole of your country, as well as\nother countries beyond the sea.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Is that really so?  You certainly astonish me.\n\n\u201cTwice every year, in your spring time and autumn, I visit your world on\naffairs of state.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Then there dwell in other climes a kindred people, a race like\nyour own?\n\n\u201cCertainly; and I have often paid them a friendly visit.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  In what parts of the country do they live?\n\n\u201cIn several parts.  In fair Mona\u2019s Isle there dwell the Pobli Bach.  In\nEast Anglia is the race of the Plantos.  In Germany, living on the banks\nof the Rhine, are the Pobli Wyn.  In France, Spain, Italy, and the East\nthere are different tribes inhabiting a precisely similar country to\nthis.  And their habits, customs, mode of life and government, are all\nidentical with ours.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  And do you live in peace with each other?  Do you never\nquarrel, and go to war, and kill each other in battle?\n\n\u201cOh dear no!  We live at peace.  According to our code of morals, it is\nvery wicked to take away or destroy life.  Of all things in our world\nlife is the beautifullest.  We are shocked, and pained, and grieved in\nwitnessing the contentions between the peoples of your world.  In our\nview it is awful to use your arts, skill, and wealth, in making\ninstruments, and in training and paying men, to kill and destroy.  Yet\nyou call yourselves Christians!\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  In my conscience I believe we are wrong.\n\n\u201cYou do; do you?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Assuredly I do.  I believe war is wrong; is hateful to high\nheaven; is contrary to the principles of the gospel, which command us to\nlove one another.  From God comes life.  He sustains it.  He only has a\nright to take it away.  In man we see His image.  Of one blood He has\nmade us all.  Although we are brothers, yet we act towards each other as\nif we were the children of the evil one.  But a time will come when\nstrife and contention shall cease, when there shall exist universal\nharmony, a harmony founded on the law of Christ, which is the law of\nlove.\n\n\u201cI am surprised at your confession.  The opinion you hold on this\nquestion is directly contrary to that held by your teachers.  Why, your\nministers preach the doctrine that war is in harmony with your faith.  Is\nnot that so?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I must own that that is so.  Still I believe them to be in\nerror, and hope they will discover their error before it is too late.  I\nam afraid that a great deal of the scepticism of the times is principally\nowing to the want of harmony between the truth and the profession of it.\nAs a race we don\u2019t practically live out the precepts of our faith.  Hence\nthe reason why men of the world scorn religious men, and you know\ncontempt usually ends in disbelief.\n\n\u201cIf we have not the light you have, still we are a purer and a more\nvirtuous people than yours.  We are sober and temperate, but your race is\nnot.  We live in peace, never engage in war, but you kill each other with\nthe sword and the bow.  Then as our climate is so superior to yours, why\nnot stay with us for ever?\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I could not live without seeing my father and mother; without\nvisiting the upper world in order to bask occasionally on the sylvan\nbanks of Tawe\u2019s crystal waters; to gaze on the blue heavens, with their\ntwinkling stars; to wander about the green meads, and listen to the rich\nmelody of the winged songsters of the grove and primeval forest; but I\nshould like to visit you now and then.  Before I return I am anxious to\nsee and have converse with your king, the rather that, as the prince\ninformed me, he is a wise and virtuous ruler.\n\n\u201cI rejoice that the prince has spoken so well of his master.  I am the\nking, and I thank you for speaking so freely of your country and its\npeople.  Whenever you choose to pay us a visit, be assured you shall be\nheartily welcome.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  May it please your majesty, your majesty has treated me as if\nI were a prince instead of a poor fisherman\u2019s son.  Your majesty\u2019s\nkindness and hospitality I shall ever remember with gratitude.  I accept\nyour invitation, and I will certainly pay another visit to your beautiful\ncountry.\n\n_The King_.  At all times you shall be heartily received.\n\n_Myself_.  Thanks; a thousand thanks.  Were I not a Welshman, I would\ndwell in your beautiful land.\n\n_The King_.  You have spoken handsomely of my dominions.  But here comes\nthe prince; he shall conduct you to the sylvan banks of your beautiful\nriver, a river you so much love.\n\nBefore setting out on my homeward journey, I briefly inspected the royal\ncarriage.  I now discovered, what had previously escaped my notice, that\nunderneath, and attached to the side of the carriage, were inflated skins\nfilled with natural gas.  These gave a buoyancy to the machine.  Indeed,\nit was only by the use of strong ropes made of grass that it was kept on\nthe earth.  On stepping into the carriage, these ropes were unhooked; it\nthen began to ascend, and on reaching an altitude of forty yards we got\ninto what the prince called node currents, which carried us along at the\nrate of 300 miles an hour.  We soon reached the public buildings referred\nto in a previous part of my story, and from thence he conducted me\nthrough the subterranean passage until we reached fair Tawe\u2019s shore.\n\nI urged the prince to accompany me to my parents\u2019 cottage, which he\ndeclined.  He said that he had a special engagement with the fairies of\nEast Anglia\u2014having arranged to spend the night with them at their annual\ndance on the verdant fields below Derwent Fawr.  I subsequently learnt,\nthat Prince Tippin was engaged to a princess of the above tribe, of the\nname of Titania; and that they frequently met on Derwent\u2019s green fields\n\u201cto dance the nights to the whistling wind.\u201d\n\nOn entering my home I found my parents mourning for me as one who was\ndead.  At first they would not believe me to be their son, but thought it\nwas their son\u2019s spirit which had come to visit them.  I soon convinced\nthem of being still in the flesh,\u2014that I was no ghost, no spirit.  I had\nthen to give them a history of my travels, to tell them of the strange\nsights I had seen, the singular people I had met, the character of the\nkingdom I had visited; but on my telling them of the gold and precious\nstones with which the land abounded, my mother upbraided me for coming\naway without a large lump of gold.  I told her that I did not covet other\npeople\u2019s property, and that I should have acted extremely wrong had I\ntaken away the gold of a people from whom I had received so much\nkindness.\n\nI remained at home for several weeks, and occasionally went to school.  I\nfound my old enemy as cruel as ever, and I came to the conclusion that on\nthe very first opportunity I would return to the fairy kingdom beneath\nthe bay.\n\nOn wandering along the strand one fine morning, I was hailed by a voice I\ncould never forget.  The prince informed me that having just returned\nfrom visiting his fair Titania, he was about to return to Dinas Aur, and\nurged me to return with him.  I readily yielded to his wishes, and\nsending a message to my parents where I had gone, we started off, and\nreturned by means of the a\u00ebrial carriage.\n\nAs I anticipated, my return to Dinas Aur, was hailed with extreme delight\nby the few persons I had come in contact with on my previous visit.  His\nmajesty the king gave me a hearty welcome, and expressed a hope that I\nwould continue to sojourn in his dominions at least for a season.  I\nexpressed my gratitude to his majesty for his extreme kindness, and\ninformed him that as my parents were acquainted with the place of my\nabode, I was the less anxious to return home than if that knowledge was\nnot in their possession.\n\nThe king replied, that I had shown, by sending the message I had, that I\nwas a dutiful son, fond of my mother and father, that I had shown I did\nnot want to give them a moment\u2019s uneasiness and pain.  His majesty then\ndismissed me, and placed me under the special protection of his\nchancellor, Prince Tippin.  This arrangement afforded me inexpressible\nsatisfaction and delight, as on all occasions I had received from him\nevery consideration and courtesy.\n\nIn my subsequent intercourse with the prince, I found him to be a man\nwithout prejudice, wholly free from bigotry, and in all circumstances\nnever showing the least indication of passion.  He loved purity and\ngoodness wherever he found those virtues.  He abominated cant, and\nloathed low tricks which no one who wished to be regarded as honourable\nwould resort to in order to gain a special end.  In his own beautiful\nlanguage, which I soon learned, he would use a string of adjectives to\ncharacterize that class of men, who are mean, selfish, unprincipled; men\nwho have no claim to be admitted into the society of pure and noble and\nunselfish individuals.  \u201cLook,\u201d he said one day to me, \u201cat your public\nmen, from the highest to the lowest; they are influenced by the love of\npower and fame, and you find that when a particular end is to be secured\nthey are indifferent as to the means to be employed.  In appointing\npersons to fill important posts, the claims of your best men are wholly\nignored.  You sadly want men at the head of your affairs who are just,\nmagnanimous, and patriotic, men who are simply ambitious to secure the\nwelfare and weal of the people.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  I must own, your excellency, that there is too much truth in\nyour strictures and censures.  But we are improving, and shall ultimately\nbecome a pure and perfect race.  Are there no persons of the class you\nhave described in your country?  Is your race perfectly free from\nselfishness and faction?\n\n\u201cCertainly; we are all equal.  As citizens and subjects we occupy the\nsame position.  Our best men occupy all posts in the civil government of\nthe country.  Here again, all people readily obey the law: delinquents\nare banished the kingdom.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Have you not frequent occasion to put the law in force?\n\n\u201cBy no means.  There is only one case on record for one hundred years in\nwhich the law has been rigorously carried out.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  You must be a law-observing people.  I wish from my heart that\nour race were as pure as yours.\n\n\u201cThey would be were your rulers as wise as ours.\u201d\n\n_Myself_.  Then you think that our leading men are inferior to yours?\n\n\u201cThink!  I know they are.  The history of your country proves this.  But\nwe must drop the subject now.  I have an engagement with my royal master\nat this hour, and I must hasten to the council chamber, for I fear his\nmajesty has already gone there.\u201d\n\nAfter supper, and just as I was about to retire to my chamber, I received\na visit from the Princess Mervyna and her two little sisters.  They were\nattended by their maid, who, though she was smaller in stature than her\nmistress, was evidently many years her senior.  The Princess Mervyna\nintroduced herself, and said that she had come to command me to join them\nat their sports the next day.  I expressed regret to the princess at\nbeing unable to comply with her wish, having previously arranged to\naccompany the chancellor to a distant part of the kingdom.  I told her\nthat I should regard it as a high honour to join them at their games the\nday after.  She acquiesced in this, though she was evidently a little\nvexed as well as disappointed with the arrangement.  However, she gave me\na gracious bow, and on retiring, said, \u201cDon\u2019t forget your promise.\u201d  I\nagain assured her I would not.\n\nIt was nearly noon before Prince Tippin and I started off from the city\non the following day.  We had the same carriage as the one we had used on\nprevious occasions, and we proceeded at an equally rapid pace.\n\nAfter a flight of 140 miles, we descended to the earth on the top of a\nhigh mountain, which in their language was called Wyddfa, or Conspicuous,\nfrom which position we had a magnificent prospect of the country.  In the\ndistance we beheld seas like glass, on which apparently were myriads of\nlittle people, some of whom were engaged in skating, others in bowling\nballs along the ice, others were playing cricket, while not a few were\ndancing to the music of the wind.  We observed a great number of the\nlittle folks playing with golden balls, which they propelled along the\nice by means of a crook.\n\nThough the players went along the ice at a fearful pace, yet I did not\nobserve a single person fall.\n\nBetween us and the players there was a beautiful undulating country,\nwhich abounded with streamlets and sylvan dells, and the peculiar soft\nlight of the region brought out the deep green of the foliage to a degree\nI had not previously beheld.  The scene was exquisitely lovely, so rich\nin tint and colour as to leave an indelible impression upon the mind.\nIndeed and in truth this was a fairyland, an enchanted ground, though to\nmy vision it was real, palpable, and actual.  I became rooted to the\nspot, for never had I beheld a scene so full of beauty.  I was awakened\nfrom my reverie by the familiar voice of the prince, who called out,\n\u201cElidorus!  Elidorus! our time is up; we must haste over other mountains\nand valleys, over streamlets and rivers, for we have a long distance yet\nto go, and but a short time to travel it in.\u201d\n\nOn taking our seat in the a\u00ebrial carriage, the prince informed me that we\nshould not stop again until arriving at our journey\u2019s end, and that on\npassing a rocky headland we could see in the distance, we should have a\ncapital view of the city of the plain.  When we passed the place alluded\nto, the city appeared in sight, but the houses and palaces were buried in\nthe rich green foliage of trees, which grew in every street.  As we were\nproceeding at a fearful pace, we had only a glance at the city as we\npassed over it.\n\nOn arriving at our destination, we were conducted by a little gentleman\nclad in rich apparel to the Hall of Brotherhood, which we found was\ncrowded with the principal inhabitants of the city.  The prince was\nconducted to the chair of honour\u2014a kind of throne, and he motioned me to\noccupy the vacant seat on his right hand.  Presently the prince asked the\ngovernor of the city if peace, good-will, and concord reigned there?\n\n\u201cTranquillity and brotherly love still continue,\u201d replied the governor.\n\n\u201cEver so live,\u201d said the prince, \u201cfor peace is one of the cardinal\nvirtues of all good citizens.  I wish to know, sir governor, if your city\nis free from sickness, disease, and fevers; and if not, why not?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe bloom of health, your excellency,\u201d replied the governor, \u201cis on the\ncheeks of all.  And why?  Our people drink only the pure waters of the\ncrystal fountain.  They inhale the constant current of vital air, which\nflows here like a tidal wave, and it imparts life, energy, power, and joy\nto all.\u201d\n\nThe governor then retired and left the hall.  When the door was closed,\nthe prince asked the citizens if they had any charge to make or any\ncomplaint to bring against the governor.  They all rejoined that they had\nnot any complaint, but that, on the contrary, his conduct met with the\nhearty approval of all.  Presently the council came to an end, and soon\nafterwards we returned home.\n\nOn the following morning I was awakened by a gentle knock at my chamber\ndoor.  Presently the door was opened, whereupon my waiting attendant\nwalked in.  He informed me that the Princess Mervyna had already called,\nand that she and the royal party were ready to proceed to their place of\nrendezvous, having arranged to have a grand day in honour of my visit.  I\nfelt very much annoyed at having overslept myself, and still more vexed\nat keeping the little lady and her friends waiting me.  I only took a few\nminutes to dress, and having taken a basin of warm milk, proceeded in\nsearch of the royal party, who had already taken their seats in the\nking\u2019s carriage.  The princess and her little brother and sisters gave me\na cordial greeting.  I soon found that we had left the earth and were\ntravelling due south of my previous day\u2019s voyage, and before I fully\nrealized my position we had descended on the identical sea of ice where I\nhad seen the games being carried on on the preceding morning.\n\nOn leaving the carriage the party broke up into sections, some joining\nparties who had already arrived from other cities of the kingdom; others\njoining other parties who appeared of a different race from the natives.\nThe princess acted as my cicerone during the day, and she laughed\nheartily on seeing me now and then unable to retain my balance on the\nslippery ice.  Had it not been for her presence of mind, I certainly\nshould have fallen on several occasions.  Towards the evening I joined in\nthe games, though I found myself but an indifferent player.  We wound up\nthe day\u2019s f\u00eate by a dance on the ice to the music of the harp.  Never\nshall I forget the scenes of that day.  The hopping and skipping, the\ndancing and romping of the little people, who tried to excel each other\nin mirth and fun: the scene produced an impression on my mind which the\niron hand of time will never deface or remove.  On our return to the\npalace, we were all ushered into the banqueting hall, where a grand feast\nawaited us.  After dinner, Mervyna related to the king, her father, the\nprincipal incidents of the day; and the good monarch was highly amused at\nher stories of my difficulties and mishaps.  When the banquet was over I\nretired to my apartment, where I was soon joined by Prince Tippin.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n[Here there is a break in the narrative owing to the loss of several\nfolios of the original manuscript.  From the contents of the remaining\nportion, we infer that the missing pages contained an account of several\nother visits paid to the people of the fairy kingdom, and the incidents\nof the respective journeys.  We learn, too, that the Princess Mervyna\nbecame greatly attached to our hero, but that an estrangement\nsubsequently took place between them.  But the remaining narrative\ncontains no record of the cause which led to the estrangement.  The\nfollowing is the concluding portion of the history.]\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAh, me! ah, me! what a strange race and people is that who inhabit the\nfairy kingdom.  They live in a beautiful country, speak a language which\nis full of poetry, they are a virtuous and truth-loving race.  Moreover,\ntheir land abounds with treasures; gems, gold, and precious stones are\nthere.  Oh, what a noble and loving spirit is that of the dear princess,\nloving and lovable is she.  To be with her, was like a heaven upon earth.\nI loved her as I never loved human being.  To me she was more precious\nthan all the world.  In my various visits the tie between us became\ndearer and dearer.  Had it not been for \u2014 I\u2019ll not mention his name, I\nshould be longingly looking forward to another tender embrace.  But the\ntie is now broken\u2014I did not mean to take the gold.  Justly have I been\npunished.  Had I not done this, had I refused to listen to the suggestive\ntemptations of my mother,\u2014the door would not have been closed.  It was I\nwho did the deed, and I repent in dust and ashes.  What I have suffered\non account of this, no tongue can tell, nor can language set forth.  But\nmy deepest grief arises from the thought that I shall never again embrace\nthe dear M\u2014, the object of my heart\u2019s fondest affection.\n\n\n\n\nCEFN-Y-BEDD;\nOR, A\nVISIT TO THE SHRINE OF LLEWELYN AB\nGRUFFYDD, THE LAST CAMBRIAN KING.\n\n\n    Frequent is heard the voice of woe,\n    Frequent the tears of sorrow flow;\n    Such sounds as erst, in Camlan heard,\n    Roused to wrath old Arthur\u2019s bard;\n    Cambria\u2019s warrior we deplore;\n    Our Llewelyn is no more.\n    Who like Llewelyn now remains,\n    To shield from wrong his native plains?\n    My soul with piercing grief is filled;\n    My vital blood with horror chilled:\n    Nature herself is changed, and lo!\n    Now all things sympathize below.\n    Hark! how the howling wind and rain,\n    In loud symphony complain!\n    Hark! how the consecrated oaks,\n    Unconscious of the woodman\u2019s strokes,\n    With thundering crash proclaim he\u2019s gone;\n    Fall in each others\u2019 arms and groan!\n    Hark! how the sullen tempests roar!\n    See! how the white waves lash the shore!\n    See! how eclipsed the sun appears!\n    See! how the stars fall from their spheres!\n    Each awful Heaven-sent prodigy\n    Ye sons of infidelity,\n    Believe and tremble! Guilty land,\n    Lo, thy destruction is at hand!\n    Thou great Creator of the world,\n    Why are not thy red lightnings hurled?\n    Will not the sea, at Thy command,\n    Swallow up this guilty land?\n    Why are we left to mourn in vain\n    The guardian of our country slain?\n    No place, no refuge for us left,\n    Of homes, of liberty bereft;\n    Where shall we flee, to whom complain,\n    Since our dear Llewelyn\u2019s slain?\n\n                                           _Translated from a Welsh poem_.\n\nIt was a calm and balmy evening in the month of July, 18\u2014, when all\nnature appeared hushed in still quietude and death-like repose, when not\na zephyr breeze, causing the leaves of the trees to murmur or wave, was\nfelt: such was the character of the lovely and sunny evening on which I\nleft the beautiful valley in which the little village of Llanwrtyd\nnestles among the hills, for the purpose of paying a special visit to\nCefn-y-Bedd, the spot to which the finger of tradition points as the\nresting-place, the sacred ground, the hallowed earth in which were\ndeposited\u2014amid the universal wail and lamentation of the Cambrian people,\nwhen widows, fathers, brothers and sisters, heroes not a few, men who\nnever dreaded danger, and who were always foremost in battle\u2014strong,\nfearless, and valiant warriors, wept and sorrowed, and refused to be\ncomforted because their Prince, their champion, and their idol was not.\nIt was at Cefn-y-Bedd, which is now a respectable farm homestead, where\nno monument of any kind marks the spot, that the mortal remains of\nLlewelyn ap Gruffydd, the last reigning sovereign of Wales, were\ninterred.  If no Parian marble marks the ground beneath whose sacred sod\nlies the dust of the dear departed, his name still survives, his virtues\nstill live, his memory is still fondly cherished by hundreds and\nthousands of his descendants; and though nearly six centuries have come\nand gone since the fall of our great captain, prince, and patriot, he\nstill speaks to the people and the nation.  Yes; his name is still dear\nto Cambria\u2019s sons and daughters.  His memory is even now, after the lapse\nof so many years, fresh and green.  If the poor flesh, which contained\none of the purest and manliest souls that ever dwelt in a tabernacle of\nclay, has long, long ago crumbled into dust, the man, the hero, and the\npatriot survive, and will live in the annals of his country, and be an\nidol in the heart of his descending race until time shall be no more.\n\nI have remarked that the above visit was a \u201cspecial visit.\u201d  A few days\nprevious I had passed Cefn-y-Bedd, on my way to the little border town of\nBuilth, but in passing by the sacred shrine of our illustrious ancestor,\nI knew not that I was on hallowed ground.  A lady companion called my\nattention to an admirable husbandry arrangement of the homestead, the\nlike of which I had not previously seen in Breconshire.  The observation\nof my companion and the scene around led me into a train of thought\nrelating to bygone years, to the deeds of old, the revolution of\nkingdoms, the decline and fall of empires, and the changes which are\ndaily taking place in families, in governments, and in the homes of both\nrich and poor.  I said to myself, every house, every cottage, every\nmountain and valley has a history peculiar to itself\u2014a history full of\ninterest, replete with romantic doings and sayings far more\nwonderful,\u2014embodying events and circumstances of more profound interest\nand of deeper and far more pathetic story\u2014than is often found in the\nworks of fiction.  Who can tell, for I am sure I cannot, but that,\nperhaps, that house, with its farm-yard and out-buildings, its garden and\nflowers, possesses a history peculiar to itself? and it may be that long,\nlong ago heroes and mighty men of valour took shelter here from the fury\nof the tempest or from the burning sun of mid-day July heat, in their\nmarch from one battle-field to another.  But why travel to the land of\nshadows?  Why draw ideal pictures of events that are past, of heroes,\nwarriors, and statesmen, of battles, conquests, and defeats?  The dead\ncannot be called to life.  The past cannot be revived.  The work done\ncannot be undone.  The past can never be recalled.  Well, if these things\nare among the impossibilities of life, there is one thing at any rate\nwhich I can do.  I can drop a tear on the grave which contains the\nhallowed dust.  I can recall the memories of the dear departed; I can\npaint and set forth their virtues, can photograph their manliness and\nbravery, can sketch and limn their life and deeds; so that this and\nsucceeding generations may learn to live more wisely, be more true, more\nfaithful to the dearest interests of their country, especially with\nreference to those measures which lie at the basis of national progress\nand the comfort and weal of the people.\n\nThe situation of Cefn-y-Bedd is exquisitely beautiful, and the scenery is\nrichly diversified.  From it one beholds a wide expanse of country, with\nvaried and magnificent views, which are finely alternated with luxuriant\nfertile meadows, groves of thriving timber, and flourishing plantations.\nIn the distance we have views of the rocky hills of Llanelwedd, at whose\nbase flows the poetic and majestic Wye, the beautifullest of rivers.  To\nthe south-east is the far-famed Eppynt Forest, and down through a\nluxuriant sylvan dell runs the meandering Irvon.  From this sacred spot\none beholds at a glance scenery in which are combined the bold and soft,\nthe sterile and woody, bare and rocky hills and verdant glades.  It is a\nscene on which the eye delights to dwell.  In the far distance the bald\nrocks of Aberedw appear in view.  It was among those rocks that Llewelyn\nencamped before his departure for Builth.  Little did he fancy when he\nleft that stronghold on the cold winter\u2019s morning that his life was so\nnear its close.  That he was surrounded by enemies, he was well aware.\nThat the armies of King Edward were in the immediate vicinity of his camp\nhe was fully cognizant of.  His spies had brought him information of the\nseveral posts occupied by the English, and of his being in imminent\ndanger of an attack from various quarters of the combined hosts.\nAberedw, though admirably formed by nature for resisting an attack, when\ndirected from the Wye banks, was yet wholly untenable in the face of the\nterrible odds with which he had now to cope\u2014a combined army moving from\nvarious military posts.  Seeing his danger, the Cambrian prince resolved\nto break up his camp, and march along the sylvan Wye to Builth.  Crossing\nthe bridge, he moved on in a southwesterly direction to Pont Orewyn,\nwhere the Prince, unarmed, received the deadly spear.  He was killed on\nthe 10th of December, 1282.\n\nHaving introduced to the notice of my readers the hero of my story\u2014the\nman whom Heaven, in its wisdom, specially raised up to meet the demands\nof the most trying emergency which had befallen a great and an heroic\npeople\u2014the man who, when placed at the head of affairs, found his country\nprostrate, the national treasury empty, and the people dispirited by\nreason of sad reverses\u2014I shall proceed now to sketch the career of the\nman; to set forth his virtues; to paint, but with no exaggerated\ncolouring, his character as a prince, as a ruler, as a military\ncommander, and as a friend; and shall show, what history clearly proves,\nthat he inspired his countrymen with an amount of confidence and trust\nwhich no previous sovereign had been able to infuse into them; that the\nveneration with which his name was so universally held was traceable to\nvirtues in his public acts and private life; further, that had it not\nbeen for the treason of the faithless few, Llewelyn would have\ntransmitted the sovereignty of Wales to his posterity.  He died, not on\nthe field of battle, but alone and unarmed was he when the fatal blow was\nstruck.  By-and-by I shall show that he had done his work, and for him to\ndie was gain.\n\nOn the right bank of the sylvan Wheeler,\u2014a small crystal stream which\nflows through the luxuriant and richly wooded vale of Caerwys,\u2014there\nstands the modern mansion of Maesmynen.  In a meadow near the present\nhall there was, in the thirteenth century, an ancient palace, which from\ntime immemorial had been one of the royal residences of the Cambrian\nPrinces.  Beautiful was the situation of this ancient mansion.  All that\nthe eye loves to rest on could be seen from the elevated spot on which it\nstood.  This palace was the favourite residence of the unfortunate Prince\nLlewelyn.  Here he spent his boyhood.  Here he principally lived until\nhis country called him to occupy a more conspicuous and more prominent\nposition.  In the neighbouring woods of Yseiefiog, Caerwys, Trev-Edwyn,\nand Bodfari, he and his trusty friends were accustomed to follow the\nchase.  Indeed, he lived here among friends and dependents, for the\ncircumjacent cantrevs of Rhos, Dyffryn Clwyd, Rhyfoniog, and\nEnglefield\u2014which cantrevs included the country between Conway and\nChester\u2014were his own property and possessions.  About midway between the\ntwo extreme points was the royal palace of Maesmynen.  Here he breathed\nthe pure air of heaven.  Here he was free from the turmoil of life\u2019s\ncares and life\u2019s battles.  Here he felt but little anxiety in connection\nwith the terrible war then being carried on between his countrymen,\nheaded by Llewelyn the Great, and, subsequent to the death, in 1240, of\nthat illustrious monarch, by his son and successor, Prince Davydd;\nbecause the Prince of Maesmynen felt that the right men were at the head\nof affairs, and that Heaven would defend the cause of the just.  Though\nLlewelyn, the last prince, was not anxious as to the result of the\nstruggle, yet that he was not an indifferent spectator of the scene, and\nits consequences to the nation, is evident from the annals of those\nmomentous times.  Why then did he keep aloof from the struggle?  Why did\nhe remain inactive?  Why did he continue to live a life of ease and\npleasure, when duty called him to the front?  The reason is apparent when\nwe consider the then existing relation between members of the royal\nhouse.  His father had been cruelly treated, and had been made a prisoner\nby his own brother Davydd; and when liberated, through the intervention\nof mutual friends, he simply exchanged the castle of Criccaeth for the\nTower of London.  In that stronghold he was securely guarded by King\nHenry\u2019s soldiers.  Some of his noble compatriots, illustrious Cambrian\nchieftains, successfully effected his release from the Tower, but Prince\nGruffydd, the father of our hero, in an endeavour to accomplish his own\nliberation, fell from a great height and was killed on the spot.  It\nappears that that prince had made a cord with the linen of his bed and\ntable, and when he had descended about midway between the window and the\nground, the cord broke, and the unhappy prince was precipitated into the\nTower ditch, and was killed.  This sad event took place in the year 1244.\nDuring the two following years, King Davydd, being wholly free from\nanxiety on account of his brother\u2019s superior claim to the throne, which\nhis death had annulled, pursued a vigorous policy, displaying traits of\ncharacter and versatility of genius of the highest order.  He was brave\nas a lion, and was ever foremost in the struggle; thus he secured the\nconfidence of his friends, the admiration of his followers, the love of\nhis soldiers, and the dread of his enemies.  His reign, however, was but\nof brief duration.  In 1216 he died at Aber Palace.  Though this prince\nwas hated by many during his reign, his death was generally lamented.\n\nWhen the solemn obsequies connected with the funeral of the deceased\nprince were over, the Cambrian barons and chieftains met in a national\ncongress, and unanimously elected Prince Llewelyn-ap-Gruffydd and his\nbrother Owen as joint sovereigns of Wales.  The decision of the barons\nwas hailed with the liveliest satisfaction by the Cambrian people.  The\nreason of the existence of this feeling in favour of the two princes is\nobvious.  Their father had been the idol of the Welsh.  The people in\nboth North and South Wales had felt that he had been cruelly treated by\nhis brother, that he had been unjustly deprived of his inheritance, that\nhis birthright had been taken from him by unfair means (for he was the\nlawful successor to Llewelyn the Great, the heir-apparent to the throne\non his decease), and hence that the crown belonged to him by seniority.\nThe people now rejoiced that the sons of the boy hero who in his youth\nhad made King Henry\u2019s army feel his power, were about to be placed in\npossession of their lawful inheritance as rulers and sovereigns of the\nCambrian nation.  In the following pages I shall place before the reader\nfacts which show the wisdom of the choice which the national congress\nmade.\n\nBut I have no intention, indeed it is wholly foreign to my present\npurpose, to write a life of Llewelyn, that is, a consecutive narrative of\nhis deeds and acts, and his grand military achievements.  In 1856 I\ncompiled a biography of my hero, but it still remains in manuscript.\nBriefly stated, my present purpose is to paint a likeness of the last\nprince of the Cymru in three different aspects, that is, as a military\ncommander and tactician, as a Cambrian patriot, and as a citizen and\nfriend.  Regarded in these several aspects, I shall, from reliable data,\nmake it perfectly clear that the prince was as just as he was generous;\nthat he commanded the respect, the love, the affection and the admiration\nof all who came in contact with him; that moreover, by his deeds of\nprowess, by the manifestation of great skill and eminent military\ntactics, by the rapidity with which he moved his army from one part of\nthe battle-field to another, from one point of attack to another place\nwhich he regarded as vulnerable, he gained a title to be regarded as one\nof the greatest generals of those eventful times.  He successfully\nresisted, and more than once conquered, the bravest army then existing in\nEurope.\n\nImmediately after the Welsh princes ascended the throne of their\nancestors, King Henry of England, at the head of a powerful army, invaded\nNorth Wales.  For this attack the Welsh princes were wholly unprepared;\nand rather than risk an engagement with such terrible odds against them,\nthey prudently retreated before the enemy, retiring to the mountain\ndistricts, from which the English king failed to dislodge them.\nSubsequently, but before Henry returned to England, a treaty of amity and\npeace was concluded between the Cambrian and Saxon monarchs.  The\nconditions of this treaty were, first, that Llewelyn was to give up\npossession for ever of his patrimony, the four cantrevs; secondly, that\nhe was to serve in Wales, or in the Marches, with one thousand foot and\ntwenty-four horse,\u2014this at his own expense; thirdly, that all the Welsh\nbarons were to do homage to the English monarch.  That the conditions of\nthis treaty were most humiliating, we must at once admit; but under the\ncircumstances there can be no doubt that Llewelyn acted wisely in\nacceding to them, for had he defied the enemy then, the struggle would\nhave proved a hopeless one.  The peace which he by the treaty secured,\nlasted for a period of nine years, when Llewelyn became (1254) the sole\nsovereign of Wales.  From that time until his untimely end, he reigned\nalone: nobly and magnanimously did he wear the crown.  His was a life\nwithout a stain of dishonour, as pure and bright as the crystal fountain;\nand he has left a name which will never die.  Magnanimous was he,\ngenerous and noble was he, chivalrous and princely in mien and heart was\nhe: hence the reason why he was almost worshipped by all who came within\nthe sacred circle of his influence; and had he had a moiety of the power\npossessed by the English monarchs, the issue of the struggle would have\nbeen widely different.  However, an all-wise Providence willed it\notherwise, and it is our duty to bow our heads without a murmur, for He\ndoes all things in infinite love and wisdom.\n\nAfter securing such important concessions from Llewelyn, the English\nking, if be had been wise, would have pursued a mild and conciliatory\npolicy towards the nobles and barons of the Welsh nation: unfortunately\nfor his reputation and statesmanship, good-will towards the conquered\nformed no part of the imperial virtues.  He ruled with a rod of iron, the\nolive-branch forming no part of the device upon the king\u2019s banner.  Thus\nthe fruit of his policy soon became apparent.  It would be expecting more\nthan human nature to suppose that the Cambrian chieftains and barons\nwould remain peaceful and quiet on seeing their estates seized by lords\nMarchers.  Moreover, the greatest oppression was practised by minions of\nKing Henry, and for the most trivial offences the proud barons of Wales\nwere subjected to cruel and extreme punishment.  As was natural, his\ncruelties and his policy of confiscation produced everywhere\ndisaffection, and ultimately a spirit of implacable hate was engendered.\nThe people, to a man, were in the end ready to rise in order to throw off\nthe bitter yoke.  They had their leader, the brave prince Llewelyn; but\nthe fruit was not yet ripe.  But while he urged delay, he did not neglect\npreparation for the conflict, for he knew that the day of conflict must\ncome.  When the hour arrived, Llewelyn took the field, and his\nachievements far surpassed the most sanguine expectations of both himself\nand his brave followers.  In the space of a single week he recovered from\nthe enemy the possessions they had acquired by war in North Wales and\nCardiganshire.  Wherever he and his little army went, the enemy was\ncompelled to yield, and to retire from the battlefield as defeated hosts.\n\nSoon after these successes, Llewelyn led a large army into South Wales.\nBefore Dynevor Castle, near Llandilo, he encountered the English forces,\nwhich were commanded by Rhys Vychan.  The battle was conducted with great\nskill and bravery on both sides; but at last the king\u2019s army was\nthoroughly beaten and retired from the field.  Immediately after this\nsplendid victory, the Cambrian prince returned in triumph to the North,\nwhere his subjects received him with universal acclamation and heart-felt\ngratitude.  But his work now had only just commenced.  On his arrival at\nAber, he found awaiting him a deputation from the four cantrevs,\u2014tenants\nand chiefs residing on lands within his patrimony,\u2014who had come to lay\nbefore their prince and friend the terrible wrongs they had to endure\nfrom the exactions of Geoffrey de Langley, who farmed the crown lands\nunder Prince Edward of England.  \u201cLlewelyn, to avenge their injuries,\ncrossed the frontier, carrying fire and sword to the very gates of\nChester, from the walls of which, Edward himself is said to have been a\ngalled witness of the havoc.\u201d  On this defeat Edward sought his father\u2019s\naid, but he sought it in vain: he then applied to his uncle, the king of\nthe Romans, for assistance; but the forces he was thereby able to bring\nto the field were found either too cowardly or too weak to attack the\nWelsh.  \u201cThe Cambrian prince with his army then took a _d\u00e9tour_, they\nentered the territory of Gruffydd ab Madog, lord of Dinas Br\u00e2n, a chief\nwho had formed a hostile league against Llewelyn and his native land,\u201d\nupon whom he took ample revenge.  On returning, he suddenly met the\nEnglish army, which was commanded by Prince Edward in person.  A terrible\nbattle was fought between the Welsh and English armies; but at every\npoint of the line Llewelyn\u2019s troops were victorious.  In this conflict,\nEdward\u2019s forces were badly beaten, a small remnant only escaping with\ntheir life.  After a brief repose, Llewelyn renewed his operations\nagainst the domains of Edward, and these he carried on without meeting\nwith any serious opposition; but Llewelyn did not love war: in the hour\nof his most splendid triumphs he was anxious for peace.  Immediately\nafter his recent grand achievements, he wrote to King Henry offering, \u201cif\na peace were concluded, and the Welsh restored to their ancient laws, to\ngive a sum of money to Henry, and to acknowledge his sovereignty.\u201d\nConsidering his late successes, we are surprised at his thus humbling\nhimself to his foe.  Doubtless he made this offer because of the deep\nsolicitude he felt for the lives and property of his people.  This\ngenerous offer was rejected with scorn by Henry, whereupon hostilities\nwere recommenced with great and increased vigour by both of the\ncontending parties.\n\nIn reviewing thus far the life and character of the Cambrian prince, we\nhave seen that his decision was always followed by prompt and energetic\naction.  Whenever he resolved to do a special thing or to gain a certain\npoint, he at once set about its accomplishment.  To this characteristic\nof the man is traceable the secret of some of his mightiest achievements.\nIn the present case Llewelyn gained important victories before the\nEnglish monarch could collect his forces and approach\nhis\u2014Llewelyn\u2019s\u2014dominions.  During the lull the prince moved his army\nagainst the Lord of Powys, whom he easily defeated.  The tidings of this\nvictory having been carried to Gruffydd ab Madog, that chief felt that it\nwould be madness on his part to resist the Cambrian prince, and he\ntherefore sought and obtained a treaty of peace.  Llewelyn then marched\nagainst the Earl of Gloucester, whom he defeated in a general battle.\nThese successes and achievements roused the Welsh to the highest pitch of\nenthusiasm.  Accordingly we find that the Cambrian barons and chiefs\nentered into a solemn league to defend till death the independence and\nfreedom of their country.  This confederacy was formed in the year 1258.\nOn its being ratified the Cambrian prince commenced to march southward,\nand gained easy victories over the forces that were thrown forward to\nimpede his progress.  In a subsequent campaign in South Wales he took the\ncastle of Maelienydd, in Radnorshire.  Afterwards he invaded the English\nborders on the west side of Shropshire and Cheshire, where he gained\nimportant advantages over the lords Marchers.  From thence he proceeded\nto the castles of Diserdd and Diganwy, which he besieged and destroyed.\nOn being apprised of these fresh disasters, Prince Edward marched against\nLlewelyn, who retired to, and took refuge among, the \u201cmountain bulwarks\u201d\nof Carnarvonshire.  As Edward dared not follow the Welsh prince there, he\nreturned to England, \u201cif not disgraced, at least without any particular\nhonour.\u201d\n\nI pass over, as forming no part of my design, the insurrection of De\nMontford, that nobleman\u2019s success against Sir Roger Mortimer, and his\ntriumph over Prince Edward, whom he kept a prisoner in Hereford Castle.\nFurther, I shall content myself with a passing reference to the invasion\nof Glamorganshire by Llewelyn, the important treaty of Montgomery in 1267\nbetween Henry and Llewelyn, and the death of the former five years\nafterwards.\n\nWhen Edward ascended the throne, be called upon Llewelyn to do homage at\nhis coronation.  The Welsh prince replied that he was prepared to comply\nwith the mandate, provided some English noblemen of distinction were sent\nto the Principality as hostages for his security.  The negotiations\nrespecting the question of homage, and the correspondence relating to the\nimprisonment of Eleanor de Montford, Llewelyn\u2019s betrothed, were carried\non until the summer of 1277, when Edward, at the head of a numerous body\nof vassals, invaded North Wales.  Llewelyn\u2019s army being small, he dared\nnot risk a general battle, so he retired and took refuge among the\ninaccessible defences of Snowdon\u2014a safe asylum, a secure retreat on all\noccasions when the commissariat department of the army was attended to.\nAnglesey being now in the hands of the English, and there existing\ndisaffection among some of the South Wales chieftains, the prince found\nhimself so hemmed in that supplies could not be obtained.  \u201cUrged by the\nsufferings of his famishing soldiers, and without any chance of relief,\u201d\nand his betrothed still being a prisoner, Llewelyn was compelled to sue\nfor peace; but King Edward refused to entertain any proposal short of an\nunconditional surrender.  Under the treaty which was then agreed to, it\nwas stipulated that Llewelyn was to do homage in London annually, to\ndeliver up all prisoners, to restore all forfeited lands, to resign the\nfeudal supremacy over his barons; and all the Welsh chieftains, excepting\nthe five barons of Snowdon, were to hold their lands direct from Edward.\nThe conditions of this treaty were strictly observed by the Welsh prince\nfor a period of about four years.  To his subjects those were years of\nsuffering.  The administration was corrupt; gross frauds were practised\non the Welsh; while oppression, tyranny, and cruelties characterized the\nproceedings of the representatives of the Government.  The people\ncomplained of the wrongs which they sustained, and mildly but firmly\nasked for a redress of their grievances; but a deaf ear was turned to all\nthe representations which were made.  At last the yoke became\nintolerable; they appealed to Prince David for assistance, and that\nprince renounced his \u201cunnatural allegiance to Edward,\u201d and became\nreconciled to his brother Llewelyn; and the two princes and a number of\npowerful and influential chieftains organized a concerted movement with a\nview to drive the English from their land and to re-establish the freedom\nand independence of their country.  Their cause was good, and their\nobject just and noble; but, ah me! they lacked the power and resources\nnecessary to accomplish their grand and holy purpose.\n\nLlewelyn and his brother, having matured their plan of action, at once\ncommenced the campaign.  They jointly invested the castle of Flint, on\nthe estuary of the Dee; and from thence they marched to and successfully\nattacked the castle of Rhuddlan.  The Cambrian army then moved along the\ncoast, and were hotly pursued by Edward, who overtook the retreating\nforces near Conway.  Here a general battle was fought between the\ncontending forces, in which the Welsh were victorious.  On his defeat the\nEnglish king retired to Hope Dale, from which he soon recommenced\noperations, and re-occupied Rhuddlan without experiencing any opposition.\nFrom Rhuddlan he \u201cdespatched a part of his army by sea to take possession\nof the Isle of Anglesey,\u201d and from thence, by means of a bridge of boats,\nthis section of the army crossed over the Menai and landed at Moel-y-Don,\nnear Bangor.  When the reflux of the tide had broken the communication\nbetween the artificial bridge and the mainland, the Welsh army rushed\nfrom their hiding-place, and nearly the whole number of the enemy were\neither killed by the sword or perished in the waves.  To Edward this was\nan unexpected disaster.  For a moment it paralysed his operations.  He\nfelt that he had underrated the strength and undervalued the generalship\nof Llewelyn, and to make up for the losses he had sustained he raised\nfresh levies throughout his dominions.\n\nDuring the preparations which were being made by Edward for another\ncampaign the Cambrian princes were not idle.  They arranged that the\nyounger brother, Prince David, should be entrusted with the defence of\nNorth Wales, while Llewelyn would march against the English forces in\nSouth Wales.  In the county of Cardigan Llewelyn gained important\nvictories against the enemy; with a small body of troops he proceeded to\nthe vicinity of Builth, with a view to consult some chieftains of that\nlocality; and here, unattended and alone, this great, brave, manly,\nheroic, and magnanimous prince fell by the hand of an assassin.  Thus\nperished, in the year 1282, after a reign of twenty-eight years,\nLlewelyn, the last native prince of the Cymry!\n\nHaving reviewed the military career of Llewelyn, I shall proceed to make\ntwo or three observations respecting his character as a ruler and\ncitizen.  We have abundant evidence to prove that he was a profound lover\nof his country.  He loved her hills and dales, her mountains and valleys,\nher alpine heights and cwms, or dells, with all the strong passion of a\nwarm and generous heart.  Deeper than the love of home, of wife, of\nkindred, of lands and possessions, was his affection for wild Wales and\nits people.  Of all countries in the wide world, Wales was to him the\nbrightest and fairest, and its people the bravest and best.  For her\nwelfare, he sacrificed all he had, all he possessed; and at last his life\nwas immolated on his dear country\u2019s shrine.  As a citizen, he was\ngenerous and kind.  His heart was full of human sympathy, while his\nspirit was one of the gentlest that ever dwelt in a tabernacle of clay.\nAlthough he raised his country to a position of military fame which she\nhad not occupied in previous history, yet war, in his view, had no glory.\nHe loved peace.  He desired to live on terms of amity and friendship with\nthe English people and their rulers.  But alas! alas! those rulers were\nbent on the destruction of the independence and freedom of his country.\nTo prevent this, he led his army against the foe, and for a time war\nsmiled upon him; but at last he fell, not in battle, but unarmed and\nalone, stricken to the earth by an assassin.\n\nBrief, comparatively brief, was the public life of Prince Llewelyn; but\ngrand, noble, and heroic were his deeds.  He lived for others, not for\nhimself.  For the welfare of his country he laboured, not for personal\naggrandizement.  The mainspring of his actions was the deep and intense\nlove of Fatherland.  The great object for which he worked and fought and\nsuffered, for which he became a public man, the leader and chief and\nruler of a brave, a virtuous, an heroic people, was, to secure the\nindependence of his country, the freedom and liberty of its people, and\nthe blessing of permanent peace.  To the interests of the land of his\nbirth, the home of his father\u2019s sepulchre, he was ever true, ever\nfaithful, ever unswerving in fidelity and loyalty.  If others proved\nfaithless, not so this patriotic prince.  If others of his countrymen\nforsook the true standard of national independence, if they joined the\nranks of the enemy with a view to aid in crushing the liberties of an\nancient people\u2014a race who could trace their history, without a single\nbreak in the narrative, hundreds of years before the appearance of the\nDivine Teacher on earth\u2014Llewelyn felt it all the more necessary for him\nto be more fearless in the fray, to put on a bolder and a manlier front,\nto toil and to work more incessantly in the cause which he felt was\nfounded upon justice, upon right, and equity.  For a period of thirty-six\nyears he carried on a successful though an unequal struggle with the\nEnglish monarchs Henry and Edward.  But few, very few, was the number of\nhis soldiers compared with the hosts who made up the armies that fought\nunder the banner of his country\u2019s foes.  His were brave men, and they\nwere engaged in a struggle which was dearer and more sacred to them than\nlife itself.  They were true soldiers.  To fear they were strangers.\nDeeper than the love of life, than the love of kindred, than the love of\nestates and possessions, was their love and affection for Fatherland.  We\nhardly know which to admire the more, the people or their leaders, the\nsoldiers or their brave chiefs, the Cambrian army or their lawful prince.\nThey were exposed to temptation, but they yielded not to its alluring\ncharms.  Bribes were freely offered to many a Cambrian chieftain, but\nthese offers were made in vain.  When at last treason achieved the work\nwhich a far more powerful nation than the Welsh failed to accomplish on\nthe battle-field, let it be proclaimed to the world, and let the fact be\nknown to all ages to come, that the traitor was a border man, and not a\nman in whose veins flowed Cambrian blood.  But he accomplished his work,\nand Llewelyn was no more.  His death was the direst calamity that had\never befallen the Cambrian people.  Strange as it might appear,\nnevertheless it is an historical fact, that when Llewelyn\u2019s compatriots\nfound that their brave prince had fallen by the hands of an assassin, the\nspirit of heroism and bravery appears to have forsaken them.  Hence to\nthe best, and to the bravest of the brave, the struggle now appeared\nhopeless, notwithstanding that Prince David still lived and was free.\nThough that prince was as brave as his deceased brother he did not\ncommand the same amount of confidence which was reposed in the slain\nLlewelyn.  Thus we find, that though the struggle was continued, it\nlacked the boldness, energy, and high military tactics which had\ncharacterized the generalship of the martyred chief.  Hence it soon\nbecame evident to the enemy that the death-knell of Cambrian freedom and\nindependence had sounded, and that in a few days, or at any rate in a few\nmonths at most, this ancient Principality would cease to occupy a\nseparate and distinct place in the annals of the world.  That the people\nin those times should have regarded the downfall of their country, the\nloss of their freedom and independence, as a terrible calamity, was but\nnatural.  In King Edward\u2019s promises and generosity the Welsh people had\nno confidence.  To him and to his immediate predecessor they traced, and\ncorrectly traced, most of their troubles with the English nation.  They\nhad desired to live in peace; war they did not invite.  They took up\narms, not for conquest, not to extend their dominion, not to annex new\ncounties to the Principality, but simply in defence of the rights and\nliberties of their country, which they desired to transmit and hand down\nto their children and their children\u2019s children.  But Providence had, for\nsome grand purpose and design, willed that the weaker nation should be\nunited to the stronger and more powerful people.  In this age we behold\nand recognise the wisdom of His purpose.  Though a distinct race, in\nlanguage, feeling, and mental and physical idiosyncrasy, yet we unitedly\nadmit that the benefits which come to us by reason of our union with the\nSaxon, are neither few nor unimportant.  Happily, too, the ancient feuds\nbetween the two races are forgotten.  We now live as brethren.  The\nrivalry between us is no longer on the battle-field; we contend not with\nsword and bayonet.  No! the contest is shifted to a more noble, a more\nbeautiful, and a grander scene, with a sublimer aim and object than ever\nhas characterized broad fields of battle; namely, the advancement of\nmaterial civilization; the triumphs of art and the conquests of science;\nand the social, intellectual, moral, and religious welfare of the people.\nMay the standard of our contention ever be towards this high ideal! then\na glorious future awaits the union of the Cambrian and Saxon peoples.\n\nIf now and then we of the former race drop a tear when the shadows of our\ncountry\u2019s martyred princes pass by, it is with no feeling of bitterness\ntowards those into whose hands the sceptre of our land has passed.  On\nthe contrary, while we remember with pride and gratitude the heroic\nstruggle of the \u201clast of our native princes,\u201d we admit that it is\ninfinitely better for Wales that she should be united to England under\nthe beneficent sway of Victoria, and we have still a Prince of Wales to\nwhom the Cambrian people are as loyal as their fathers were to Prince\nLlewelyn.\n\nNOTE.\u2014The historic facts embodied in the preceding sketch are taken from\n\u201cCarnhuanawc\u2019s Hanes Cymru,\u201d \u201cWarrington\u2019s History of Wales,\u201d the\n\u201cCambrian Plutarch,\u201d and \u201cWelsh Sketches.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.\n\n                                                   No. of\n                                                   Copies\nThe Lord Bishop of St. David\u2019s                          1\nHon. Sir W. R. Grove, Common Pleas                      1\nH. Hussey Vivian, Esq., M.P., Parkwern                  1\nA. P. Vivian, Esq., M.P., Taibach                       1\nHenry Richard, Esq., M.P., London                       1\n                      BRECONSHIRE.\nWilliam Games, Esq., Mayor, Brecon                      1\nRev. Henry Miles, Lanwrtyd                              1\nRev. Professor Roberts, Brecon                          1\nRev. John Daniel Williams, M.A., Brecon                 1\nMr. David Williams, Oakfield, Llanwrtyd                 1\nMr. Benjamin Jones, Dolecoed, Llanwrtyd                 1\n                     GLAMORGANSHIRE.\nCambrian Book Publishing Company                      300\nThomas Alexander, Esq., Monkton, Bridgend               1\nMr. T. H. Ashton, Jeweller,                             1\nCharles Bath, Esq., J.P., Swansea                       3\nRichard Bedlington, Esq., Aberdare                      1\nWilliam H. Bell, Esq., Glyncollen, Swansea              1\nDavid Bevan, Esq., J.P., Neath                          2\nHenry Bowen, Esq., Morriston                            3\nMr. Richard Bowen, Aberclwyd, Glyn Neath                1\nStarling Benson, Esq., J.P., Fairy Hill,                1\nSwansea\nR. D. Burnie, Esq., Osborne Villa                       1\nEdward Bath, Esq., J.P., Brynmor                        1\nJohn Biddulph, Esq., J.P., Swansea                      1\nE. N. Bellingham, Esq., Walters Road, Swansea           1\nMr. John Betts, Mansel Street, Swansea                  1\nHerbert D. Cook, Esq., Glydach                          1\nMr. A. Curran, Broker                                   1\nAlfred Curtis, Esq., Nantwern, Neath                    1\nNathaniel Pryse Cameron, Esq., J.P., Swansea            1\nThomas D. Daniel, Esq., J.P., Aberavon                  1\nEvan David, Esq., J.P., Fairwater House,                1\nCardiff\nDavid Davies, Esq., 4, South Terrace, Neath             2\nJ. Leyshon Davies, Esq., Assayer, Landore               1\nT. H. Davies, Esq., Heathfield Terrace,                 1\nSwansea\nE. Rice Daniel, Esq., Cwmgelly, Swansea                 6\nRev. E. A. Davies, Morriston                            1\nE. F. Daniel, Esq., Bath Villa, Morriston               1\nRev. G. H. Davenport, Caswell, Mumbles                  1\nSamuel Davies, Esq., Green Lodge, Reynoldstone          1\nMr. David Davies, Liverpool House, Maesteg              1\nMr. Dan Davies, White Hart Inn, Swansea                 1\nHenry Davies, Esq., Morriston                           1\nJoseph Davies, Esq., Hofod Villa, Swansea               1\nMr. Daniel Edwards, Duffryn Tin Plate Works,            1\nMorriston\nJohn Ivor Evans, Esq., West Cross, Swansea              3\nThomas Evans, Esq., 22, Brunswick Street,               1\nSwansea\nMr. Zephaniah Evans, Post-Office, Pontardawe            1\nRichard Aubrey Essery, Esq., J.P., Cefn Bryn,           1\nSwansea\nWilliam Edmund, Esq., J.P., Windsor Lodge,              1\nSwansea\nJ. Deffett Francis, Esq., Artist, Swansea               1\nJ. Coke Fowler, Esq., J.P., The Gnoll, Neath            1\nMr. David Gwillim, Eagle\u2019s Bush, Neath                  1\nWilliam Gilbertson, Esq., J.P., Pontardawe              1\nRev. Walter Griffiths, B.D., J.P., Dulais               1\nFach, Neath\nRev. David Griffiths, Resolven, Neath                   1\nSankey Gardner, Esq., Eagle\u2019s Bush, Neath               1\nGriffith Griffiths, Esq., Bryncelyn,                    1\nPontardawe\nThomas George Gordon, Esq., Llwynybwch,                 1\nLlanrhiddian\nHowel Gwyn, Esq., J.P., Duffryn, Neath                  1\nMr. T. H. Hawkins, London Road, Neath                   1\nBenjamin Hill, Esq., Cwmdwr, Clydach                    1\nRev. R. T. Howell, Northampton Place, Swansea           1\nMr. Elias Hughes, Accountant, Landore                   1\nRichard Hughes, Esq., J.P., Ynistawe, Swansea           1\nRichard Hall, Esq., J.P., Baglan Hall, Briton           1\nFerry\nMr. Evan J. Harris, Stamp Office, Reynoldstone          1\nJoseph Hall, Esq., Grosvenor House, Swansea             1\nH. W. Hansard, Esq., Singleton St., Swansea             1\nMr. J. O. Sheldon Jones, Post Office, Briton            1\nFerry\nMr. John Jones, Hafod Inn, Swansea                      1\nMr. J. B. Jones, Aberdulais                             1\nMr. Rhys Jones, Adelphi Hotel, Swansea                  1\nRev. Thomas Jones, Waters Road, Swansea                 2\nMr. Wm. E. Jones, Duffryn Tin Works, Morriston          1\nJohn Jones Jenkins, Esq., J.P., The Grange,             1\nSwansea\nMr. James Jones, Goat St., Swansea                      1\nMr. Watkin James, Sketty                                1\nMr. Thomas Jones, Agent, Union Street, Swansea         10\nMr. Morgan Jones, Tymaen, Maesteg                       1\nRev. David Jones, Bishopstone, Swansea                  1\nJohn Jones, Esq., Walters Road, Swansea                 2\nBenjn. Jones, Esq., J.P., Llanelly                      1\nJohn Trevellian Jenkin, Esq., J.P., Swansea             1\nMr. T. John Lean, 7, Windsor Road, Cardiff              1\nGriffith Lewis, Esq., Alltycham, Pontardawe             1\nJohn Lewis, Esq., Fairfield House, Swansea              1\nThomas Leyson, Esq., Pennyscynnor, Neath                1\nWm. Leyson, Esq., Queen Street, Neath                   1\nRobert Lidgey, Esq., St. Helen\u2019s Road, Swansea          1\nHenry S. Ludlow, Esq., Guildhall Chambers,              1\nNeath\nWm. Llewellin, Esq., J.P., Court Colman,                1\nBridgend\nRev. R. Pendrill Llewellyn, Llangonoyd,                 1\nMaesteg\nFred. M. Lewis, Esq., Neath Road, Swansea               1\nMr. Wm. Martin, Ynistawe, Swansea                       1\nMr. Thos. R. Mitchell, Ivy Cottage, St. Thomas          1\nMr. Thomas Morgan, Church St., Briton Ferry             1\nH. Ll. Morris, Esq., Penclawdd, Gower                   1\nMr. Richard Mugford, Hafod, Swansea                     1\nEdward S. Morris, Esq., Penclawdd                       1\nW. C. Morris, Esq., 43, Queen Street, Neath             1\nGeorge Byng Morris, Esq., J.P., Danygraig,              1\nBridgend\nGeorge Mowatt, Esq., M.R.C.P., Walters Road,            1\nSwansea\nJames Sanders Merry, Esq., Richmond Villas,             1\nSwansea\nDavid Meager, Esq., St. James Terrace, Swansea          1\nMr. David Morgan, 35, Brunswick Street,                 1\nSwansea\nDavid Owen, Esq., Brookfield House, Morriston           1\nRev. James Owen, Walters Road, Swansea                  1\nJames T. Nettell, Esq., Rosebank, Mumbles               1\nHenry Parish, Esq., The Limes, Ystalyfera               1\nJohn Powell, Esq., Millbrook Iron Works,                1\nSwansea\nThos. Powell, Esq., The Elms, Swansea                   1\nCharles S. Price, Esq., Brynderwen, Neath               1\nMr. Griffith Phillips, 16, Park Street,                 1\nSwansea\nMr. Rees Price, Lantwit, Neath                          2\nRev. Rees Price, Llanboidy                              1\nW. Price, Esq., Glantwrch, Swansea                      1\nThos. Penrice, Esq., J.P., Kilvrough, Swansea           1\nAllan Paton, Esq., Sketty, Swansea                      1\nMr. Wm. Powell, Rock Street, Maesteg                    1\nMr. John Rees, Resolven                                 1\nMr. Thomas Rees, Ynismedw, Swansea                      1\nJ. C. Richardson, Esq., J.P., Dderwenfawr,              1\nSwansea\nE. M. Richards, Esq., J.P., Brooklands,                 1\nSwansea\nRichd. Richards, Esq., J.P., Belle Vue,                 1\nSwansea\nRev. D. Roberts, Coity, Bridgend                        1\nJames Rogers, Esq., J.P., Pagefield House,              1\nSwansea\nJohn Roberts, Esq., Henrietta Street, Swansea           1\nJohn Rosser, Esq., 9, Cambrian Place, Swansea           1\nW. J. Rees, Esq., De La Beache Street, Swansea          1\nMr. David Rosser, 18, Brunswick St., Swansea            1\nWm. Harry Rees, Esq., Charlesville Place,               1\nNeath\nDavid Smith, Alltwen, Pontardawe                        1\nJulius Smith, Esq., Mansel Terrace, Swansea             1\nW. Robinson Smith, Esq., Glanrafon, Swansea             1\nJames Spencer, Esq., Inland Revenue, Swansea            1\nGeorge B. Strick, Esq., West Cross, Swansea             1\nWilliam Price Struve, Esq., J.P., Neath                 1\nRowland Thomas, Esq., J.P., Neath                       1\nThos. H. Thomas, Esq., Bridge House, Neath              1\nWilliam Thomas, Esq., Lan, Morriston                    1\nB. P. Thomas, Esq., The Croft, Mumbles                  1\nIlted Thomas, Esq., J.P., Glanmor, Swansea              1\nMr. Howel Watkins, Rutland Street, Swansea              1\nOctavius Williams, Esq., Northampton Place,             1\nSwansea\nRobert Williams, Esq., West Cross, Swansea              1\nThos. Williams, Esq., Sunny Bank, Aberdulais            1\nThos. Williams, Esq., 10, Windsor Terrace,              1\nNeath\nMr. Watkin Williams, Pencoed, Bridgend                  1\nWilliam Williams, Esq., Wern House, Landore             1\nOwen Gething Williams, Esq., Sketty                     1\nSir Gardner Wilkinson, Reynoldstone                     1\nDavid Williams, Esq., Training College,                 1\nSwansea\nChas. Thos. Wilson, Esq., Brynnewydd, Sketty            1\nOwen Williams, Esq., Cwmavon                            1\nThomas Williams, Esq., Mount Pleasant, Swansea          1\nJohn Williams, Esq., Tyar-y-Graig, Swansea              1\n                    CARMARTHENSHIRE.\nMr. David Bowen, Thomas St., Llanelly                   1\nGeorge Alex. Evans, Esq., Carmarthen                    1\nRev. Rees Evans, Llandebie                              1\nRev. John Griffiths, D.D., Llandilo                     1\nJohn Jennings, Esq., Greenfields, Llanelly              1\nJohn Prothero Lewis, Esq., Bryneithin,                  1\nLlandilo\nRev. Prof. Morgan, Carmarthen                           1\nWm. Morris, Esq., Pontamman Cross Inn                   1\nRev. John Rhys Morgan, West End, Llanelly               1\nHenry Norton, Esq., Greenhill, Carmarthen               2\nDouglas A. Onslow, Esq., J.P., Pembrey                  1\nMr. David Rees, Stepney Place, Llanelly                 1\nWm. Rosser, Esq., C.E., Greenfield House,               1\nLlanelly\nMr. David Rees, Shipbroker, Llanelly                    1\nJohn Prytherch, Esq., Banker, Llandilo                  1\nThos. Barton Snead, Esq., Solicitor, Llanelly           1\nJohn Thomas, Esq., Glamorganshire Bank,                 1\nLlandilo\nJ. Little Thomas, Esq., Gynin House, St.                1\nClears\nWm. Thomas, Esq., Wellfield, Llanelly                   1\nMr. Henry Thomas, Mina Street, Llanelly                 1\nRev. David Williams, Vicarage, Llanelly                 1\n                      NORTH WALES.\nGeorge Henry Adams, Esq., King St., Mold                1\nAndrew Jones Brereton, Esq. (Andreas o Von),            2\nMold\nAndrew Brereton, Esq., 11, Edmund Street,               1\nOldham St., Liverpool\nJohn Griffiths, Esq., 28, Chapel Street,                1\nLiverpool\nWilliam Jones, Esq., Tyddyn House, Mold                 1\nW. O. Jones, Esq., Mona Brewery, Llanfachrith,          1\nAnglesea\nW. Brereton Jones, Esq., Victoria Brewery,              1\nLlangyfin, Anglesea\nRev. T. R. Lloyd (yr Estyn), Llanfynydd,                1\nWrexham\nLove Jones Parry, Esq., Madryn, Pwllheli,               1\nNorth Wales\nWm. Parry, Esq., Marlow Terrace, Wrexham                1\nStreet, Mold\nMr. Benjamin Powell, High Street, Mold                  1\nThomas Williams, Esq., Tyddyn Waun,                     1\nLlanfechel, Anglesea\nJohn Davies, Esq., Albert Road, Fenton Stoke,           1\nStafford\nHenry Hurst, Esq., 4, Norton Terrace,                   1\nLlandrindod Wells\nWilliam Morgan, Esq., Middle House, Penybont            1\nN. Bennett, Esq., Trefeglwys, Llanidloes                1\nThos. Morley, Esq., Bryntimon, Gold Tops,               1\nNewport\nRev. Hugh Williams, M.A., J.P., Chancellor of           1\nLlandaff, Bassaleg Vicarage, Newport\nThos. Reece Thomas, Esq., J.P., D.L., Lampeter          1\nHouse, Narberth\n\nNOTES.\n\n\n{178}  This is a literal fact.\n\n{260}  Mr. Eli, I fancy, obtained some of his facts from Pennant.","title":"The Cambrian Sketch-Book: Tales, Scenes, and Legends of Wild Wales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":60196}