for he is a good man and a kind--"

"Thank you," said I, "I will now depart."

"Hem!" said the girl, "I was wishing--"

"What? to ask me a question?"

"Not exactly; but you seem to know everything; you mentioned, I think,
fortune-telling."

"Do you wish me to tell your fortune?"

"By no means; but I have a friend at a distance at sea, and I should wish
to know--"

"When he will come back? I have told you already there are two or three
things which I do not know--this is another of them. However, I should
not be surprised if he were to come back some of these days; I would, if
I were in his place. In the mean time be patient, attend to the dairy,
and read the 'Dairyman's Daughter' when you have nothing better to do."

It was late in the evening when the party of the morning returned. The
farmer and his family repaired at once to their abode, and my two friends
joined me beneath the tree. Peter sat down at the foot of the oak, and
said nothing. Supper was brought by a servant, not the damsel of the
porch. We sat round the tray, Peter said grace, but scarcely anything
else; he appeared sad and dejected, his wife looked anxiously upon him.
I was as silent as my friends; after a little time we retired to our
separate places of rest.

About midnight I was awakened by a noise; I started up and listened; it
appeared to me that I heard voices and groans. In a moment I had issued
from my tent--all was silent--but the next moment I again heard groans
and voices; they proceeded from the tilted cart where Peter and his wife
lay; I drew near, again there was a pause, and then I heard the voice of
Peter, in an accent of extreme anguish, exclaim, "Pechod Ysprydd Glan--O
pechod Ysprydd Glan!" and then he uttered a deep groan. Anon, I heard
the voice of Winifred, and never shall I forget the sweetness and
gentleness of the tones of her voice in the stillness of that night. I
did not understand all she said--she spoke in her native language, and I
was some way apart; she appeared to endeavour to console her husband, but
he seemed to refuse all comfort, and, with many groans, repeated--"Pechod
Ysprydd Glan--O pechod Ysprydd Glan!" I felt I had no right to pry into
their afflictions, and retired.

Now "pechod Ysprydd Glan," interpreted, is the sin against the Holy
Ghost.

CHAPTER LXXIV.

The Following Day--Pride--Thriving Trade--Tylwyth Teg--Ellis
Wyn--Sleeping Bard--Incalculable Good--Fearful Agony--The T