was the Caroline Morgan."

"Which is the nearest house?" I asked, for I saw that some of them were
already girding up their loins to fly, at the mere sound of that fearful
name; for the cholera morbus had scared the whole country; and if one
were to fly, all the rest would follow, as swiftly as mountain sheep
go. "Be quick to the nearest house, my friends, and we will send for the
doctor."

This was a lucky hit; for these Cambrians never believed in anyone's
death until he had "taken the doctor." And so, with much courage and
kindness, "to give the poor gentleman the last chance," they made a rude
litter, and, bearing the body upon sturdy shoulders, betook themselves
to a track which I had overlooked entirely. Some people have all their
wits about them as soon as they are called for, but with me it is mainly
otherwise. And this I had shown in two things already; the first of
which came to my mind the moment I pulled out my watch to see what the
time was. "Good Heavens!" it struck me, "where is George's watch? It was
not in any of his pockets; and I did not feel it in his fob."

In an instant I made them set down the bier; and, much as it grieved me
to do such a thing, I carefully sought for my dear friend's watch. No
watch, no seals, no ribbon, was there! "Go on," I said; and I fell behind
them, having much to think about. In this condition, I took little heed
of the distance, or of the ground itself; being even astonished when, at
last, we stopped; as if we were bound to go on forever.

CHAPTER VI.

We had stopped at the gate of an old farmhouse, built with massive
boulder stones, laid dry, and flushed in with mortar. As dreary a place
as was ever seen; at the head of a narrow mountain-gorge, with mountains
towering over it. There was no sign of life about it, except that a
gaunt hog trotted forth, and grunted at us, and showed his tusks, and
would perhaps have charged us, if we had not been so many. The house
looked just like a low church-tower, and might have been taken for one
at a distance if there had been any battlements. It seemed to be four or
five hundred years old, and perhaps belonged to some petty chief in the
days of Owen Glendower.

"Knock again, Thomas Edwards. Stop, let me knock," said one of our party
impatiently. "There, waddow, waddow, waddow!"

Suiting the action to the word, he thumped with a big stone heavily,
till a middle-aged woman, with rough black hair, looked out of a window
a