Part 70 (2/2)
She went out and presently returned with a man about thirty-five, stout and well-looking, and dressed in a waggoner's frock.
”There,” said she, ”this is the man to show you over the hills; few know the paths better.”
I thanked her, and telling the man I was ready, bade him lead the way.
We set out, the two dogs of which I have spoken attending us and seemingly very glad to go. We ascended the side of the hog-backed hill to the north of the Rhyadr. We were about twenty minutes in getting to the top, close to which stood a stone or piece of rock, very much resembling a church altar, and about the size of one. We were now on an extensive moory elevation, having the brook which forms the Rhyadr a little way on our left. We went nearly due west, following no path, for path there was none, but keeping near the brook. Sometimes we crossed watercourses which emptied their tribute into the brook, and every now and then ascended and descended hillocks covered with gorse and whin.
After a little time I entered into conversation with my guide. He had not a word of English. ”Are you married?” said I.
”In truth I am, sir.”
”What family have you?”
”I have a daughter.”
”Where do you live?”
”At the house of the Rhyadr.”
”I suppose you live there as servant?”
”No, sir, I live there as master.”
”Is the good woman I saw there your wife?”
”In truth, sir, she is.”
”And the young girl I saw your daughter?”
”Yes, sir, she is my daughter.”
”And how came the good woman not to tell me you were her husband?”
”I suppose, sir, you did not ask who I was, and she thought you did not care to know.”
”But can you be spared from home?”
”O yes, sir, I was not wanted at home.”
”What business are you?”
”I am a farmer, sir.”
”A sheep farmer?”
”Yes sir.”
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