rom the preacher's
room a well-known form stood plainly revealed. It was Gethin! and the
girl shrank a little into the shadow of a doorway. But her precaution
was needless, for he walked as if dazed or asleep, and with unsteady
footstep seemed to stagger as he hurriedly gained his own room.

Morva, frightened and wondering, returned to bed, and if the early
hours of the night had been disturbed and restless, those which
followed were still more so.

What could it mean? What could Gethin want in Gwilym's room? She had
thought it was a thief, and if not a thief what was the meaning of
those stealthy footsteps and the opening of the drawer? and full of
unrest she lay awake listening to the ticking of the clock, and to
Tudor's continued howling. Should she wake Ann? No! for Gethin had
evidently desired secrecy, and she would not be the one to frustrate
his intentions, for whatever might be the object of his secret visit to
the preacher's room, she never doubted but that it was right and
honourable.

All night she lay in troubled thought, rising many times to look
through the ivy-framed window towards the eastern brow of the slopes.
At length the pale dawn drew near, and Morva slept a heavy dreamless
sleep, which lasted till Ann called her for the churning.

[1] Cowhouse.

CHAPTER XII

SARA'S VISION

"Morva, lass," said Ann, "what's the matter to-day? No breakfast;
after thy work at the churn, too?"

"Well, indeed," said Morva, "I drank so much butter milk that I don't
want much breakfast."

"Come, lass," said Ebben Owens, "hard work wants good feeding."

"Well," said Ann, "you are not eating much yourself. Did you sleep
well, father?"

"Yes, of course," said the old man; "I always sleep like a top. Here's
Will; he'll satisfy thee in the eating line, whatever."

"Yes; especially when there's fresh butter and new bread," said Will,
sitting down and cutting a thick slice for himself. "What was the
matter with Tudor last night? He was howling all night. Did you hear
him, father?"

"Not I. 'Twas the moonlight, I suppose. Dogs often howl on a
moonlight night."

"Tudor doesn't," said Ann. "I'm glad I didn't hear him, ach y fi! I
don't like it at all. But where's Gwilym and Gethin? There's late
they are."

At this moment the former entered and took his seat silently at the
table, looking pale and flurried.

"Where can Gethin be?" said Ann again; "not back from the mountain?"
and M