ver know wherr they arr--these
English, you know," he was wont to say, "nor wherr they arr leading you
to."

"What wass you walk about the country for?" was his next remark.

"Ah, that's it now! You are a sensible man; you come to the point at
once. Well, I am very fond of making pictures."

"Sell them?"

"Oh no, just for my own pleasure; every man has his--"

"Crack!" said Shoni.

"Yes, crack, if you like," said Ellis, laughing, and opening his
portfolio; "here are some of my cracks."

And they drew near the doorway, leaving Corwen much dissatisfied at the
cessation of attentions.

Cardo and Valmai had disappeared. Shoni was fast losing his head to
this fellow with the high nose and high voice, who evidently knew a
sensible man when he saw him.

"There is Nance Owen's cottage," said the artist, "at the back of the
island; do you recognise it?"

Shoni was lost in admiration, but did not think it wise to show it, so
he stood silent for some time, with his hands under his coat tails and
his red-bearded chin first turned to one side and then to the other, as
he looked with critical eyes at the pictures.

"It's the very spit of the place," he said at last; "let's see another."

And Ellis picked out his masterpiece.

"That's Ogo Wylofen," he said.

"Ach y fi!" said Shoni, with a shudder, "wherr you bin when you painted
that?"

"At the mouth of the cave in a boat. It is magnificent, that rushing
water, those weird wailings, and the mysterious figures of spray which
pass up into the dark fissures."

But this was far above Shoni's head.

"Caton pawb, man!" he said, "not me would go in a boat to that hole for
the world. It is a split in the earth, and those are ghosts or witches
or something that walk in and out there; but anwl! anwl! you must be a
witch yourself, I think, to put those things on paper. Oh, see that
red sun, now, and the sea all red and yellow! Well, indeed!"

"Well, now," said Ellis, "I want to have a picture of Corwen."

"Yes, to-morrow, in the field, and me standing by her. I will put on
my new gaiters."

"The young lady has gone to ask your master's consent."

"The master!" said Shoni, locking the barn door; "pooh! 'sno need to
ask him. You kom to-morrow and make a picksher on Corwen and me.
Wherr you stop?"

"At Brynderyn."

"With the Vicare du? Oh, jar i!" said Shoni, taking off his hat to
scratch his head, "there's a pity now. Essec Powell will nevare be
willing f