ticed them into
a tower, set fire to it, and burnt them all. That--was a very fine,
noble--God forgive me, what was I about to say--a very bad, violent man;
but, Mary, this is very carnal and unprofitable conversation, and in
holding it we set a very bad example to the young man here--let us change
the subject.'

They then began to talk on religious matters. At length Mary departed to
her abode, and the preacher and his wife retired to their tilted cart.

'Poor fellow, he seems to be almost brutally ignorant,' said Peter,
addressing his wife in their native language, after they had bidden me
farewell for the night.

'I am afraid he is,' said Winifred, 'yet my heart warms to the poor lad,
he seems so forlorn.'

CHAPTER LXXIII

Morning hymn--Much alone--John Bunyan--Beholden to
nobody--Sixty-five--Sober greeting--Early Sabbaths--Finny brood--The
porch--No fortune-telling--The master's niece--Doing good--Two or three
things--Groans and voices--Pechod Ysprydd Glan.

I slept soundly during that night, partly owing to the influence of the
opiate. Early in the morning I was awakened by the voices of Peter and
his wife, who were singing a morning hymn in their own language. Both
subsequently prayed long and fervently. I lay still till their devotions
were completed, and then left my tent. 'Good morning,' said Peter, 'how
dost thou feel?' 'Much better,' said I, 'than I could have expected.' 'I
am glad of it,' said Peter. 'Art thou hungry? yonder comes our
breakfast,' pointing to the same young woman I had seen the preceding
night, who was again descending the hill bearing the tray upon her head.

'What dust thou intend to do, young man, this day?' said Peter, when we
had about half finished breakfast. 'Do,' said I; 'as I do other days,
what I can.' 'And dost thou pass this day as thou dost other days?' said
Peter. 'Why not?' said I; 'what is there in this day different from the
rest? it seems to be of the same colour as yesterday.' 'Art thou aware,'
said the wife, interposing, 'what day it is? that it is Sabbath? that it
is Sunday?' 'No,' said I, 'I did not know that it was Sunday.' 'And how
did that happen?' said Winifred, with a sigh. 'To tell you the truth,'
said I, 'I live very much alone, and pay very little heed to the passing
of time.' 'And yet of what infinite importance is time,' said Winifred.
'Art thou not aware that every year brings thee nearer to thy end?' 'I
do not think,' said I,