lly stumbling, for we were nearly in complete darkness,
and the bwlch was steep and stony. We more than once passed people who
gave us the n's da, the hissing night salutation of the Welsh. At length
I saw the Abbey looming amidst the darkness, and John Jones said that, we
were just above the fountain. We descended, and putting my head down I
drank greedily of the dwr santaidd, my guide following my example. We
then proceeded on our way, and in about half-an-hour reached Llangollen.
I took John Jones home with me. We had a cheerful cup of tea. Henrietta
played on the guitar, and sang a Spanish song, to the great delight of
John Jones, who at about ten o'clock departed contented and happy to his
own dwelling.

CHAPTER XVII

John Jones and his Bundle--A Good Lady--The Irishman's Dingle--Ab Gwilym
and the Mist--The Kitchen--The Two Individuals--The Horse-Dealer--I can
manage him--The Mist Again.

The following day was gloomy. In the evening John Jones made his
appearance with a bundle under his arm, and an umbrella in his hand.

"Sir," said he, "I am going across the mountain with it piece of weaving
work, for the man on the other side, who employs me. Perhaps you would
like to go with me, as you are fond of walking."

"I suppose," said I, "you wish to have my company for fear of meeting
Gwyddelians on the hill."

John smiled.

"Well, sir," said he, "if I do meet them I would sooner be with company
than without. But I dare venture by myself, trusting in the Man on High,
and perhaps I do wrong to ask you to go, as you must be tired with your
walk of yesterday."

"Hardly more than yourself," said I. "Come; I shall be glad to go. What
I said about the Gwyddelians was only in jest."

As we were about to depart John said:

"It does not rain at present, sir, but I think it will. You had better
take an umbrella."

I did so, and away we went. We passed over the bridge, and turning to
the right went by the back of the town through a field. As we passed by
the Plas Newydd John Jones said:

"No one lives there now, sir; all dark and dreary; very different from
the state of things when the ladies lived there--all gay then and
cheerful. I remember the ladies, sir, particularly the last, who lived
by herself after her companion died. She was a good lady, and very kind
to the poor; when they came to her gate they were never sent away without
something to cheer them. She was a grand lady too--kept g