"Good-night to you," he said. "I hope I have not frightened you by so persistently trying to catch you."
"Good-night," said the girl. "Yes, indeed, you have, whatever, because I am not used to be out in the night. The rabbits have frightened me too, they are looking so large in this light."
"I am sorry. It is very brave of you to walk all the way from Caer Madoc alone."
"To Abersethin it is not so far," said the girl.
"Yes, not far off; round the edge of the cliffs, under Moel Hiraethog."
"Oh! I know," said Cardo; "the mill in the valley?"
"No, round the next shore, and up to the top of the cliff is our house."
"Yes, I am Caradoc Wynne, and I live at Brynderyn."
"Oh! are you Cardo Wynne? I have heard plenty about you, and about your father, the 'Vicare du.'"
"Ah! poor old dad! I daresay you have not heard much good of him; the people do not understand him."
"Well, indeed, the worst I have heard of him is that he is not very kind to you; that he is making you to work on the farm, when you ought to be a gentleman."
"That is not true," said Cardo, flushing in the darkness; "it is my wish to be a farmer; I like it better than any other work; it is my own free choice. Besides, can I not be a farmer and a gentleman too? Where could I be so happy as here at home, where my ancestors have lived for generations?"
"Ancestors?" said the girl; "what is that?"
"Oh! my grandfather and great-grandfather, and all the long dead of my family."
"Yes, indeed, I see. Ancestors," she repeated, with a sort of scheduling tone, as though making sure of the fresh information; "I do not know much English, but there's good you are speaking it! Can you speak Welsh?"
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Cardo, and his voice woke the echoes from Moel Hiraethog, the hill which they were nearing, and which they must compass before reaching the valley of the Berwen. "Ha! ha! ha! Can I speak Welsh? Why, I am Welsh to the core, Cymro glan gloyw![1] What are you?"
"Oh! Welsh, of course. You can hear that by my talk."
"Indeed no," said Cardo. "I did not know anyone at Traeth Berwen could speak English as well as you do."
He was longing to find out who his fellow-traveller was. He saw in the dim light she was slim and fair, and had a wealth of golden hair; he saw her dress was grey and her hood was red. So much the moonlight revealed, but further than this he could not discover, and politeness forbade his asking. As if in answer to his thoughts, however, her next words enlightened him.