he quiet stars. The storm had disappeared as suddenly as
it had arisen, and all nature was rejoicing in the birth of a new day.
Gwen was already approaching with pail and milking stool as he crossed
the field through which a path led to Abersethin. She dropped a bob
curtsey and proceeded to settle her pail under "Corwen" and to seat
herself on her low stool.

"Your young mistress got very wet last night?" said Cardo, in an
inquiring tone.

"Yes, Ser, did you see her?"

"Yes--I was crossing the bridge at the same time. Is she any the worse
for her wetting?"

"Not much the matter with her," said Gwen; "'tis lying down she is, a
good deal,--miladi is a bit lazy, I think," and with this scant
information he had perforce to be content.

When he returned to Brynderyn to breakfast, he found his father looking
somewhat discomposed as he read and re-read a letter which he had just
received. He made no comment upon its contents, however, but looking
up said:

"You must have found the storm very interesting, Cardo; what kept you
out so late?"

He did not add that he had paced up and down for an hour in his bedroom
after retiring for the night, peering out into the darkness in great
anxiety for his son's safety.

"Very interesting, father; nothing less than a ducking on the Rock
Bridge! The storm was raging furiously there, and a girl was crossing
in the midst of it; she was in some danger, and I was able to help her
to cross in safety."

"One of our congregation?" asked the old man.

"By Jove! no, father; there isn't one girl under seventy in our
congregation!"

"A Methodist, then, I suppose--one of Essec Powell's lot?"

"Yes," said Cardo, beginning to redden; "but surely you wouldn't let a
woman be drowned without making an effort to save her because she was a
Methodist?"

"I did not say so, Cardo; but certainly I should prefer my son's
risking his life for a member of the church."

Cardo made a gesture of impatience which his father saw and felt. It
irritated him, and, fixing his eyes steadily on his son's face, he said:

"I don't know how it is, but of late that subject has frequently been
on your tongue. I have no cause to love the Methodists, and I hope
they are not now going to add to my reasons for disliking them by
coming between me and my son. I simply wish you not to mention them to
me, Cardo--that is not much to ask."

"I will not, father," said Cardo, pushing his plate away; "I will never