urbance
of her nervous system that through sheer fascination of repulsion her
face mimicked it exactly as Winifred's face had mimicked the original
spectacle of horror on the sands.

III

It was not yet dawn when I was aroused from the fitful slumber into
which I had at last fallen by a sharp knocking at the door. When I
answered the summons by 'All right, Sinfi,' and heard her footsteps
descend the stairs, the words of Rhona Boswell again came to me.

I found that I must return to the bungalow to get my bath.

The startled servant who let me in asked if there was anything the
matter. I explained my early rising by telling him that I was merely
going to Knockers' Llyn to see the sunrise. He gave me a letter which
had come on the previous evening, and had been addressed by mistake
to Carnarvon. As the handwriting was new to me, I felt sure that it
was only an unimportant missive from some stranger, and I put it into
my pocket without opening it.

On my return I found Sinfi in the little room where we had supped. I
guessed that an essential part of her crazy project was that we
should breakfast at the llyn.

On the table was a basket filled with the materials for the
breakfast.

Another breakfast was spread for us two on the table, and the teapot
was steaming. Sinfi saw me look at the two breakfasts and smile.

'We've got a good way to walk before we get to the pool where we are
goin' to breakfast,' she said, 'so I thought we'd take a snack before
we start.'

As we went along I noticed that the air of Snowdon seemed to have its
usual effect on Sinfi. In taking the path that led to Knockers' Llyn
we saw before us Cwm-Dyli, the wildest of all the Snowdonian
recesses, surrounded by frowning precipices of great height and
steepness. We then walked briskly on towards our goal. When the three
peaks that she knew so well--y Wyddfa, Lliwedd, and Crib Goch--stood
out in the still grey light she stopped, set down her basket, clapped
her hands, and said, 'Didn't I tell you the mornin' was a-goin' to be
ezackly the same as then? No mists to-day. By the time we get to the
llyn the colours o' the vapours, what they calls the Knockers' flags,
will come out ezackly as they did that mornin' when you and me first
went arter Winnie.'

All the way Sinfi's eyes were fixed on the majestic forehead of y
Wyddfa and the bastions of Lliwedd which seemed to guard it as though
the Great Spirit of Snowdon himself was speaking to h