on the right stretched away the furze-covered
slopes leading to Garthowen and the moor, and the rough sailor heart
throbbed with the happiness of home-coming and the re-awakening of long
deferred hopes. His brown face lighted up with pleasure, as he waved
his hand towards the sunlit side of the scene, but he turned his face
and his footsteps into the grey shadowed court-yard of the chapel. It
was Gethin! He had sailed into Caer-Madoc harbour in the afternoon,
the ships being the only things considered free to come and go during
the Sabbath hours. He had met an Abersethin man in the town, who had
promised to bring his luggage home in his cart next day, and had
supplemented the promise by the information that on this particular
evening, Ebben Owens would be turned out from the Penmorien Sciet.

"Jar-i! it's time for me to start, then," said Gethin; "will I be there
in time, d'ye think?"

"Yes, if you walk sharp; but what will you do? You can't stop them
turning him out! There's a pity!"

"No, no," said Gethin, "that's all right, I suppose; but I want to be
there to meet the old man at the door. He'll find he's got one son
that'll stick to him, whatever. God bless him!" and he started bravely
along the old familiar road.

There were lights in the chapel windows as he approached, and outside
the closed doors one solitary friend already waited. It was Tudor, who
had sat there during the service, his eyes fixed on the blank closed
door, doggedly resisting the inviting barks of a collie who had caught
sight of him from the opposite hill. But when his long absent friend
appeared on the scene his self-restraint was thrown to the winds, and
Gethin in vain tried to check the joyous barks which accompanied his
frantic gambols of greeting.

"Art come to guard the poor old man, lad?" whispered Gethin, holding up
a reproving finger.

"Yes," said Tudor, as plainly as bark could speak.

"Then hush-sh-sh," said Gethin, pointing to the closed door, and Tudor
smothered his barks.

The murmur of voices inside the chapel was distinctly audible, blending
with the soft murmur of the sea. In a few moments the doors were
opened, and the congregation filed out with a more than usually solemn
look in their faces; some of the women dried their eyes, and actually
refrained from even a whispered remark until they had got fairly
outside the "cwrt."

Gethin kept out of sight until he saw his father leave the chapel,
followed clo