l-breeding river"; and while we gazed our fill at the mighty
monument, we learned from a guardian that in old days a certain Lady
Erskine hired the castle for six shillings and eightpence a year, in
addition to a "dish of fish for the Queen," when her majesty chanced to
pass!

At Colwyn Bay we lunched early, at a charming hotel in a garden above a
sea of Mediterranean blue; and the red-roofed town along the shore
reminded me of Dinard. After that, coming by Abergele and Rhuddlan to
Chester, the way was no longer through a region of romance and untouched
beauty. There were quarries, which politely though firmly announced
their hours of blasting, and road users accommodated themselves to the
rules as best they might. But there were castles on the heights, as well
as quarries in the depths; and though Sir Lionel says that inhabitants
of Wales never think of turning to look at such a "common object of the
seashore" as a mere castle, I haven't come to that state of mind yet.

Near Rhuddlan there was a tremendous battle at the end of the seventh
century, out of which so many fine songs have been made that the Welsh
princes and nobles who were slain have never lost their glory. There's a
castle, too (of course), but the best thing that happened for us was a
gloriously straight road like a road of France, and as nobody was on it
save ourselves at that moment, we did about six miles before the next
moment, when others might claim a share. I believe the Holyhead road is
very celebrated.

Soon we had to turn our backs upon a mystic mountain-land that ringed us
in, and face the sea once more--a wide water-horizon whose line was
broken with great ships steaming from all parts of the world to
Liverpool.

Apollo had seemed a little faint before luncheon, because of some inner
disturbance, but he was flying fast as a saint on his way to Paradise as
we crossed the Dee, into England out of Wales, and sprang into Gladstone
country.

When people are obliged to reach a town by rail, there must be
disappointments to lovers of the picturesque, as you and I know by
experience. It's like arriving at a house by the tradesmen's entrance;
but with a motor one sails up to the front door through the park.

Of all the towns to which Apollo has brought us, the entrance to Chester
to-day was the best. The first effect of colour left on my eyes the
impression of sunset-red, warm as copper beeches. The place seemed to be
lit with fading firelight,