Every Wednesday evening at the prayer-meeting he is praying for the 'Vicare du,' and Betto told me last week that the Vicare is praying for my uncle on Tuesday evenings." "Oh, Lord! has it come to that ?" said Cardo.

"Then I'm afraid we can never hope for peace between them." They both laughed, and the girl's rippling tones mingled musically in Cardo's ears with the gurgle of the Berwen.
"It is getting late," she said, "we had better go on; but I must say good-night here, because it is down by the side of the river is my way to Dinas.

You will be nearer to keep on the road till you cross the valley." "No, indeed," said the young man, already preparing to help his companion over the stone stile.

"I will go down by the Berwen too." "Anwl," said Valmai, clasping her hands; "it will be a mile further for you, whatever." "A mile is nothing on such a night as this." And down to the depths of the dark underwood they passed, by a steep, narrow path, down through the tangled briers and bending ferns, until they reached the banks of the stream.

The path was but little defined, and evidently seldom trodden; the stream gurgled and lisped under the brushwood; the moon looked down upon it and sparkled on its ripples; and as Valmai led the way, chatting in her broken English, a strange feeling of happy companionship awoke in Cardo Wynne's heart.
After threading the narrow pathway for half-a-mile or so, they reached a sudden bend of the little river, where the valley broadened out somewhat, until there was room for a grassy, velvet meadow, at the further corner of which stood the ruins of the old parish church, lately discarded for the new chapel of ease built on the hillside above the shore.
"How black the ruins look in that corner," said Cardo.
"Yes, and what is that white thing in the window ?" said Valmai, in a frightened whisper, and shrinking a little nearer to her companion.
"Only a white owl.