sh, how thoughtless he had
been. Was it possible that his first letter to her, as well as his
last, might have miscarried? What had she not suffered? Alone,
friendless, disgraced in the eyes of the world. Motherhood, death, the
bitterness of feeling herself deserted--all--all had been tasted by her
for whom he would willingly have laid down his life; and he registered
a solemn vow that the devotion and love of his whole life should
henceforth shield her and guard her from every sorrow as far as in him
lay.

He turned away from the little grave with a curious yearning in his
heart. His own and Valmai's child! Strange and new feelings awoke
within him as he crossed the rocky ridge running through the island,
and began his way down to the other side to the scattered fishing
village, where Jack Harris met him and quickly rowed him across to
Abersethin.

Here his first visit was to the stone-cutter's.

Morris Jones received him with the usual exclamations.

"Howyr bach! well, well! there's glad I am to see you, sir!" And he
shook Cardo's hand vigorously. "And, oh, dear, dear; there's sorry I
am you didn't come sooner, sir, before the poor young leddy went away.
She was broke her heart too much to stop after her small child was
buried--and a beautiful boy he was too, sir, the very picture of you."

"You cut that inscription on the little cross, Morris?"

"Iss, sir, I did; with my own hands, and I don't think you get it
better done--no, not in Paddington itself."

"No--it is excellent. But the gap after 'Robert Powell'; you must add
'Wynne' to it at once."

"That's it, sir, that's it! before next Sunday it shall be done. I
hope you will find the young leddy, sir."

"My wife, Morris."

"Iss, iss, sir; there's glad I was to hear that."

And, as Cardo left, and passed through the rest of the village, the
same warm wish followed him from many a cottage window, and from every
group of fishermen whom he passed on the way.

"He has not forgotten his pleasant manners, whatever," said the men, as
he greeted them all with his usual frank and genial smile.

"No; nor he hasn't lost his good looks," said the women. "Though,
indeed, his heart must be heavy now, druan bach." [1]

"Well," said the Vicar next morning, as Cardo drove off to Caer Madoc
to catch the train at the nearest station, "I mustn't grumble at losing
him so soon; he is doing the right thing, poor fellow, and I hope in my
heart he may find his w