ient church and a strange
little antique market-house, standing on pillars. It is situated at the
western end of an extensive valley and at the entrance of a glen. A
brook or rivulet runs through it, which comes down the glen from the
celebrated cataract, which is about four miles distant to the west. Two
lofty mountains form the entrance of the glen, and tower above the town,
one on the south and the other on the north. Their names, if they have
any, I did not learn.

After strolling about the little place for about a quarter of an hour,
staring at the things and the people, and being stared at by the latter,
I returned to my inn, a structure built in the modern Gothic style, and
which stands nearly opposite to the churchyard. Whilst breakfasting I
asked the landlady, who was bustling about the room, whether she had ever
heard of Owen Glendower.

"In truth, sir, I have. He was a great gentleman who lived a long time
ago, and, and--"

"Gave the English a great deal of trouble," said I.

"Just so, sir; at least I daresay it is so, as you say it."

"And do you know where he lived?"

"I do not, sir; I suppose a great way off, somewhere in the south."

"Do you mean South Wales?"

"In truth, sir, I do."

"There you are mistaken," said I; "and also in supposing he lived a great
way off. He lived in North Wales, and not far from this place."

"In truth, sir, you know more about him than I."

"Did you ever hear of a place called Sycharth?

"Sycharth! Sycharth! I never did, sir."

"It is the place where Glendower lived, and it is not far off. I want to
go there, but do not know the way."

"Sycharth! Sycharth!" said the landlady musingly: "I wonder if it is the
place we call Sychnant."

"Is there such a place?"

"Yes, sure; about six miles from here, near Langedwin."

"What kind of place is it?"

"In truth, sir, I do not know, for I was never there. My cook, however,
in the kitchen, knows all about it, for she comes from there."

"Can I see her?"

"Yes, sure; I will go at once and fetch her."

She then left the room and presently returned with the cook, a short,
thick girl with blue staring eyes.

"Here she is, sir," said the landlady, "but she has no English."

"All the better," said I. "So you come from a place called Sychnant?"
said I to the cook in Welsh.

"In truth, sir, I do;" said the cook.

"Did you ever hear of a gwr boneddig called Owen Glendower?"

"Often, sir, often; he liv