hristian,
Gwilym."

"Like a Christian!" said Will. "Like a madman I call it! I think you
owe it to everyone in the house, Gwilym, to send for a policeman and
have the matter cleared up."

"It wouldn't do," said Ebben, "to charge Gryffy without any proofs, so
we had better hush it up and say nothing about it before the servants."

"Yes, that is the best plan," said the preacher, "and perhaps in time
and by kindness I can turn Gryffy's mind to repentance and to returning
the money."

"But where's Gethin this morning?" inquired Will. "I hope nothing has
happened to Bowler."

The morning hours slipped by, and yet Gethin did not appear. At dinner
in the farm kitchen there were inquiries and comments, but nobody knew
anything of the absent one.

In the best kitchen the meal was partaken of in silence, a heavy cloud
hung over the household, and terrible doubts clutched at their hearts,
but no one spoke his fears. When, however, the shades of evening were
closing in, and neither on moor nor meadow, in stable nor yard, was
Gethin to be seen, a dreadful certainty fell upon them. It was too
evident that he had disappeared from the haunts of Garthowen. Will
swore under his breath, Gwilym Morris was even more tender than usual
to every member of the family, and Ebben Owens went about the farm with
a hard look on his face, and a red spot on each cheek, but nobody said
anything more about sending for a policeman. Ann cried herself to
sleep that night. Morva went home to her mother, white and dry-eyed,
her mind full of anxious questioning, her heart sinking with sorrow.

Sara held out her wrinkled hand towards her.

"Come, 'merch fach i, 'tis trouble, I know; but what is it, lass?"

"Oh, mother, 'tis too dreadful to think of! How can such things be?
You say the spirits come and talk to you, they never come to me; ask
them to be kind to me, too, and to take me to themselves, for this
world is too full of cruel thorns!"

Sara's kind eyes filled with tears.

"Oh! that I could bear thy sorrow for thee, my little girl; but it is
one of the thorns of life that we cannot raise the burden of sorrows
from our dear ones and bind it on our own shoulders. God alone can
help thee, my child."

"Mother, do you know what has happened?"

"Yes," said the old woman. "I was quite failing to sleep last night,
so I got up and lighted the fire, and I read a chapter sitting here on
the settle. After I had read, looking I was at t