E-text prepared by Al Haines
a Novel
by
Author of "A Welsh Singer," "Torn Sails," etc.
London
Hutchinson & Co.
Paternoster Row
Caer Madoc is a sleepy little Welsh town, lying two miles from the seacoast. Far removed from the busy centres of civilisation, where thebattle of life breeds keen wits and deep interests, it is still, in theopinion of its inhabitants, next to London, the most important place inthe United Kingdom. It has its church and three chapels, its mayor andcorporation, jail, town hall, and market-place; but, more especially,it has its fairs, and awakes to spasmodic jollity on such occasions,which come pretty often—quite ten times in the year. In the interimsit resigns itself contentedly to its normal state of lethargy.
The day on which my story opens had seen the busiest and merriest fairof the year, and the evening found the little town looking jaded anddisreputable after its few hours of dissipation, the dusty High Streetbeing littered with scraps of paper, orange-peel, and such likedébris. The merry-go-rounds and the "shows" had departed, the lastdonkey-cart had rattled out of the town, laden with empty gingerbreadboxes.
In the stable of the Red Dragon three men stooped in conclave over thehind foot of a horse. Deio, the ostler, and Roberts, the farrier,agreed in their verdict for a wonder; and Caradoc Wynne, the owner ofthe horse, straightened himself from his stooping posture with a nod ofdecision.
"Yes, it's quite plain I mustn't ride him to-night," he said. "Well,I'll leave him under your care, Roberts, and will either come or sendfor him to-morrow."
"Needn't do that, sir," said Roberts, "for I am going myself to
Abersethin on Friday; that will give him one day's complete rest, and
I'll bring him up gently with my nag."
"That will do better," said the young man. "Take care of him, Deio,"he added, in good, broad Welsh, "and I will pay you well for yourtrouble," and, with a pat on Captain's flank and a douceur in Deio'sready palm, he turned to leave the yard. Looking back from under thearchway which opened into the street, with a parting injunction toRoberts to "take care of him," he turned up the dusty High Street.
"Pagh!" he said, "it has been a jolly fair, but it hasn't sweetened theair. However, I shall soon have left it behind me," and he stepped outbriskly towards the straggling end of the street, which merged into awild moorland country.
"There's a difference between him and his father," said Deio to hiscompanion, as they led Captain back to his stall. "See the old 'Vicaredu' hunting between his coppers for a threepenny bit! Jâr i man! youwould