in a way which
would astonish them.

But Davies did not "excel in azure feats." The news of his good
fortune reached him just as the brig, on which he was going to sail as
first-mate, was taking in her cargo for the West Indies. He had signed
his contract for the voyage, and, to the utter astonishment of the
lawyer who managed the estates, he announced that he should carry it
out. In vain did the man of affairs point out to his client that with
the help of a cheque of L100 he could arrange the matter for him in
ten minutes. Mr. Davies merely replied that the property could wait,
he should go the voyage and retire afterwards. The lawyer held up his
hands, and then suddenly remembered that there are women in the West
Indies as in other parts of the world. Doubtless his queer client had an
object in this voyage. As a matter of fact, he was totally wrong. Owen
Davies had never interchanged a tender word with a woman in his life; he
was a creature of routine, and it was part of his routine to carry out
his agreements to the letter. That was all.

As a last resource, the lawyer suggested that Mr. Davies should make a
will.

"I do not think it necessary," was the slow and measured answer. "The
property has come to me by chance. If I die, it may as well go to
somebody else in the same way."

The lawyer stared. "Very well," he said; "it is against my advice, but
you must please yourself. Do you want any money?"

Owen thought for a moment. "Yes," he said, "I think I should like
to have ten pounds. They are building a theatre there, and I want to
subscribe to it."

The lawyer gave him the ten pounds without a word; he was struck
speechless, and in this condition he remained for some minutes after
the door had closed behind his client. Then he sprung up with a single
ejaculation, "Mad, mad! like his great uncle!"

But Owen Davies was not in the least mad, at any rate not then; he was
only a creature of habit. In due course, his agreement fulfilled, he
sailed his brig home from the West Indies (for the captain was drowned
in a gale). Then he took a second-class ticket to Bryngelly, where he
had never been in his life before, and asked his way to the Castle. He
was told to go to the beach, and he would see it. He did so, leaving his
sea-chest behind him, and there, about two hundred paces from the land,
and built upon a solitary mountain of rock, measuring half a mile or
so round the base, he perceived a vast mediaeval pile