e I ascended an acclivity, from the top
of which I obtained a full view of the castle, looking stern, dark and
majestic. Descending the hill I came to a bridge over a river called the
Rhymni or Rumney, much celebrated in Welsh and English song--thence to
Pentref Bettws, or the village of the bead-house, doubtless so called
from its having contained in old times a house in which pilgrims might
tell their beads.

The scenery soon became very beautiful--its beauty, however, was to a
certain extent marred by a horrid black object, a huge coal work, the
chimneys of which were belching forth smoke of the densest description.
"Whom does that work belong to?" said I to a man nearly as black as a
chimney sweep.

"Who does it belong to? Why, to Sir Charles."

"Do you mean Sir Charles Morgan?"

"I don't know. I only know that it belongs to Sir Charles, the
kindest-hearted and richest man in Wales and in England too."

Passing some cottages I heard a group of children speaking English.
Asked an intelligent-looking girl if she could speak Welsh.

"Yes," said she, "I can speak it, but not very well." There is not much
Welsh spoken by the children hereabout. The old folks hold more to it.

I saw again the Rhymni river, and crossed it by a bridge; the river here
was filthy and turbid, owing of course to its having received the foul
drainings of the neighbouring coal works. Shortly afterwards I emerged
from the coom or valley of the Rhymni, and entered upon a fertile and
tolerably level district. Passed by Llanawst and Machen. The day which
had been very fine now became dark and gloomy. Suddenly, as I was
descending a slope, a brilliant party, consisting of four young ladies in
riding-habits, a youthful cavalier and a servant in splendid livery--all
on noble horses, swept past me at full gallop down the hill. Almost
immediately afterwards, seeing a road-mender who was standing holding his
cap in his hand--which he had no doubt just reverentially doffed--I said
in Welsh: "Who are those ladies?"

"Merched Sir Charles--the daughters of Sir Charles," he replied.

"And is the gentleman their brother?"

"No! the brother is in the Crim--fighting with the Roosiaid. I don't
know who yon gentleman be."

"Where does Sir Charles live?"

"Down in the Dyfryn, not far from Basallaig."

"If I were to go and see him," I said, "do you think he would give me a
cup of ale?"

"I daresay he would; he has given me one many a time."