he old place again! Mrs. Jones," he
shouted, "come here and hear the good news. Didn't I tell you years
ago I was going home to Garthowen, to the cows and the sheep and the
cawl! and so I am then, and it is this good little woman who has
brought it about!" and clasping his arms round Sara, he drew her from
the settle, and twisted her round in a wild dance of delight, Sara
entreating, laughing, and scolding in turns.

"Caton pawb! the boy will kill me!" but he seated her gently on the
settle before he went away.

"I'll be on the wharf to meet you to-morrow, Sara, and see you safe on
board the _Fairy Queen_. Good-night, woman, 'tis a merry heart you are
sending away to-night!" and as he passed up the street they heard his
cheerful whistle until he had turned the corner.

CHAPTER XXII

GETHIN'S STORY

True to his promise, Gethin was early at the docks, and as he sat
dangling his legs over a coil of rope, he laughed and slapped his knee,
when amongst the crowd of loiterers on the wharf-side he saw Sara's red
mantle appear.

"Didn't I say so?" he exclaimed, crossing to meet her, "didn't I say
you'd be here an hour and a half too soon? Just like a country woman!
why, the ship must wait for the tide, Sara fach. But I'm glad you're
come, we shall have time for a chat; there's some things I want you to
know before I see you again."

"Afraid I was, 'machgen i," said Sara, "that the steamer would start
without me, and I will be quite happy to sit here and wait. Dear,
dear! how full the world is of wonders that we never know of down there
in the gorse and heather! all these strange people, different faces,
different languages. Gethin bach, those who roam away from home see
much to open their minds."

"Yes," said Gethin, "and much to make them sick of it all; 'tis glad
I'll be to say good-bye to it, and to settle down in the old home
again. But the time is passing, Sara fach, and I wanted to tell thee
what I have never told any one else, why I left Garthowen so suddenly.
I can tell you now, since my father has let every one know of it; but I
couldn't talk about it before Kitty Jones last night, for 'tis a bitter
thing to know your father has been dishonourable, and has lost the
respect of his neighbours. Well--'twas a night I never will
forget--that night when Gwilym Morris lost his bag of gold; 'twas a
night, Sara, that made a deep mark on me, a blow it was that nearly
drove me to destruction and ruin. I