crimmage they
had; but he gave me your message."

"Well, come in and look on the settle then."

In the shadow of the settle, Sara sat listening to the conversation,
with a look of amusement in her eyes.

Gethin looked a moment into the dark corner, and, recognising her, took
two steps in advance, with extended hands and a smiling greeting on his
lips; but suddenly the whole expression of his face changed to one of
anxiety and distrust.

"What is it," he said, "has brought you so far, Sara? Is the old man
dead?"

"Nonsense, no!" said Sara.

"Well, you wouldn't come so far to tell me Will was married."

"Indeed I would, then," she said, rising. "Come, thou foolish boy,
didn't I say it was good news? Oh! but thou hasn't had my letter."

Gethin took both her hands between his own.

"Tis very kind of thee, Sara fach, but a letter would have brought me
the news quite as safely. Well! I wish him joy. 'Tisn't Gethin Owens
is going to turn against his brother, because he has been a fortunate
man, while I have been unfortunate. Yes, I wish him joy, and sweet
Morva every blessing under the sun."

"Twt, twt!" said Sara, "thee art all wrong, my boy. 'Tisn't Morva he
has married at all! and that's how I thought a letter could not explain
everything to thee as I could myself, and bring thee home to the old
country again."

Gethin shook his head.

"No, no; I have said good-bye to Garthowen, I will never go there
again."

"Well! why?" said Sara, still holding his hands, and looking into his
face with those compelling eyes of hers.

"There is no need to tell thee, Sara," said the sailor, a dogged,
defiant look coming into his eyes. "I have said good-bye to Garthowen,
and will never darken its doors again."

"And yet thou hast been very happy there?"

"Ah! yes," said Gethin, a tender smile chasing away the angry look on
his face. "I was very happy there indeed, when I whistled at my
plough, with the song of the larks in my ears, and the smell of the
furze filling the air. But now--no--no! I must never turn my face
there again."

"Wilt not, indeed?" asked Sara. "Wait till I've told thee all, my lad.
And now I have a strange story to tell thee, 'tis of thy poor old
father, Gethin."

"My father? what's the matter with him? Thou hast said he's alive,
what then? Is he ill? Not ill? What then, Sara?" and his face took a
frightened expression; "what evil has come upon the old man?"

His voice sank very