leton of a father, who was listening
to him with his usual look of undisguised admiration, about the absolute
necessity of kicking Lieutenant P--- out of the army for having disgraced
"the service." Poor P---, whose only crime was trying to defend himself
with fist and candlestick from the manual attacks of his brutal
messmates.

CHAPTER XLVI

The Valley of Gelert--Legend of the Dog--Magnificent Scenery--The
Knicht--Goats in Wales--The Frightful Crag--Temperance House--Smile and
Curtsey.

Beth Gelert is situated in a valley surrounded by huge hills, the most
remarkable of which are Moel Hebog and Cerrig Llan; the former fences it
on the south, and the latter, which is quite black and nearly
perpendicular, on the east. A small stream rushes through the valley,
and sallies forth by a pass at its south-eastern end. The valley is said
by some to derive its name of Beddgelert, which signifies the grave of
Celert, from being the burial-place of Celert, a British saint of the
sixth century, to whom Llangeler in Carmarthenshire is believed to have
been consecrated, but the popular and most universally received tradition
is that it has its name from being the resting-place of a faithful dog
called Celert or Gelert, killed by his master, the warlike and celebrated
Llywelyn ab Jorwerth, from an unlucky misapprehension. Though the legend
is known to most people, I shall take the liberty of relating it.

Llywelyn during his contests with the English had encamped with a few
followers in the valley, and one day departed with his men on an
expedition, leaving his infant son in a cradle in his tent, under the
care of his hound Gelert, after giving the child its fill of goat's milk.
Whilst he was absent a wolf from the neighbouring mountains, in quest of
prey, found its way into the tent, and was about to devour the child,
when the watchful dog interfered, and after a desperate conflict, in
which the tent was torn down, succeeded in destroying the monster.
Llywelyn returning at evening found the tent on the ground, and the dog,
covered with blood, sitting beside it. Imagining that the blood with
which Gelert was besmeared was that of his own son devoured by the animal
to whose care he had confided him, Llywelyn in a paroxysm of natural
indignation forthwith transfixed the faithful creature with his spear.
Scarcely, however, had he done so when his ears were startled by the cry
of a child from beneath the fallen tent, and