I would that I could look into its depths." "What may not be in yonder gorge ?" said Howel.

"We must go and see." So we came to the menhir's foot, and though the bog came almost to it there was yet a little mound of turf on which it stood, and I went to that to see if thence I could peer deeper into the dark water, but I could not.
"Come," Howel said, "it is midday, and I for one would not be on these hills on Midsummer Eve.

Call me heathenish if you like, but this is an unlucky night whereon to walk in the haunts of the good folk." I had forgotten that so it was, and even now I only smiled at the prince, for my mind was full of other things as I followed him toward the glen whence the stream came.

And now I was sure that here was growing more clearly a trace as of a seldom trodden path toward its mouth.

We passed a great flat rock, whereon were strange markings and a hollowed basin, which stood behind the menhir near the cliff, and to this the path led, but not beyond, from the glen.
Now we were almost in the opening, when both of us stopped and looked at one another.
Surely there were footsteps coming among the rocks of the water course before us.