er and drawing
her on, and she kept murmuring 'The two dukkeripens.'

But still she said nothing about her wedding, though that some such
mad idea as that suggested by Rhona possessed her mind was manifest
enough.

'Here we are at last,' she said, when we reached the pool for which
we were bound; and setting down her little basket she stood and
looked over to the valley beneath.

The colours were coming more quickly every minute, and the entire
picture was exactly the same as that which I had seen on the morning
when we last saw Winifred on the hills, so unlike the misty panorama
that Snowdon usually presents. Y Wyddfa was silhouetted against the
sky, and looked as narrow and as steep as the sides of an acorn. Here
we halted and set down our basket.

As we did so she said, 'Hark! the Knockers! Don't you hear them?
Listen, listen!'

I did listen, and I seemed to hear a peculiar sound as of a distant
knocking against the rocks by some soft substance. She saw that I
heard the noise.

'That's the Snowdon spirits as guards more copper mines than ever
yet's been found. And they're dwarfs. I've seed 'em, and Winnie has.
They're little, fat, short folk, somethin' like the woman in Primrose
Court, only littler. Don't you mind the gal in the court said Winnie
used to call the woman Knocker? Sometimes they knock to show to some
Taffy as has pleased 'em where the veins of copper may be found, and
sometimes they knock to give warnin' of a dangerous precipuss, and
sometimes they knock to give the person as is talkin' warnin' that
he's sayin' or doin' somethin' as may lead to danger. They speaks to
each other too, but in a v'ice so low that you can't tell what words
they're a-speakin', even if you knew their language. My crwth and
song will rouse every spirit on the hills.'

I listened again. This was the mysterious sound that had so
captivated Winnie's imagination as a child.

The extraordinary lustre of Sinfi's eyes indicated to me, who knew
them so well, that every nerve, every fibre in her system, was
trembling under the stress of some intense emotion. I stood and
watched her, wondering as to her condition, and speculating as to
what her crazy project could be.

Then she proceeded to unpack the little basket.

'This is for the love-feast,' said Sinfi.

'You mean betrothal feast,' I said. 'But who are the lovers?'

'You and the livin' mullo that you made me draw for you by my crwth
down by Beddgelert--the livin'