the dark underwood they passed, by a steep,
narrow path, down through the tangled briers and bending ferns, until
they reached the banks of the stream. The path was but little defined,
and evidently seldom trodden; the stream gurgled and lisped under the
brushwood; the moon looked down upon it and sparkled on its ripples;
and as Valmai led the way, chatting in her broken English, a strange
feeling of happy companionship awoke in Cardo Wynne's heart.

After threading the narrow pathway for half-a-mile or so, they reached
a sudden bend of the little river, where the valley broadened out
somewhat, until there was room for a grassy, velvet meadow, at the
further corner of which stood the ruins of the old parish church,
lately discarded for the new chapel of ease built on the hillside above
the shore.

"How black the ruins look in that corner," said Cardo.

"Yes, and what is that white thing in the window?" said Valmai, in a
frightened whisper, and shrinking a little nearer to her companion.

"Only a white owl. Here she comes sailing out into the moonlight."

"Well, indeed, so it is. From here we can hear the sea, and at the
beginning of the shore I shall be turning up to Dinas."

"And I suppose I must turn in the opposite direction to get to
Brynderyn," said Cardo. "Well, I have never enjoyed a walk from Caer
Madoc so much before. Will they be waiting for you at home, do you
think?"

"Waiting for me?" laughed the girl, and her laugh was not without a
little trace of bitterness; "who is there to wait for me? No one,
indeed, since my mother is dead. Perhaps to-morrow my uncle might say,
'Where is Valmai? She has never brought me my book.' Here it is,
though," she continued, "safe under the crumbs of the gingerbread. I
bought it in the Mwntroyd. 'Tis a funny name whatever."

"Yes, a relic of the old Flemings, who settled in Caer Madoc long ago."

"Oh! I would like to hear about that! Will you tell me about it some
time again?"

"Indeed I will," said Cardo eagerly; "but when will that be? I have
been wondering all the evening how it is I have never seen you before."

They had now reached the open beach, where the Berwen, after its
chequered career, subsided quietly through the sand and pebbles into
the sea.

"Here is my path, but I will tell you," and with the sound of the
gurgling river, and the plash of the waves in his ears, Cardo listened
to her simple story. "You couldn't see me much before, be