By Berwen Banks. Allen Raine

not feel, while he climbed with careful footsteps up the rugged path to Dinas, lighted only by the moon, whose beams were continually obscured by the flying clouds. Pushing his way between the furze and broom bushes, he was careful to let no stray branch catch Valmai's face or hair, and as he reached the farm-yard in the rear of the house, he was delighted to feel a strong and swift motion in her frame.

      "Put me down, please," she whispered, "on the bench by the door."

      Cardo did so, reluctantly loosing his grasp of the tender form.

      "Now knock."

      And he obeyed, rapping loudly on the back door. The sound seemed to rouse the inmates at once, for, with considerable thumping and fumbling, somebody shuffled down the stairs.

      "Go now, I am safe," said Valmai, in a whisper.

      And Cardo went, but not before he had stooped down and pressed an impassioned kiss upon the little listless hands. Neither spoke. Valmai felt too weak and full of awakening happiness to trust her voice, while Cardo felt the occasion was above the necessity for any words. He waited behind the elder bushes until Gwen's full-moon face appeared in the doorway, and her ejaculations of reproachful astonishment (in which the Welsh language is prolific) showed that she had seen Valmai, and fully appreciated the urgency of the situation.

      "Mawredd anwl! what is the meaning of this? Where have you been? and I thinking you were in your warm bed!"

      "I have been to see Nance, and coming back over the Rock Bridge the sea washed me away."

      "Nance! Nance! all the time! What you want to go there so often? It's no wonder if you are drowned crossing that nasty place in such a storm, You are like a wet sea-gull. If you were a baby you wouldn't be more trouble," etc., etc.

      Cardo still waited until he saw in the kitchen the blaze of freshly-piled logs on the culm fire, Gwen's voice still reaching him in snappish, reproving tones through the closed door. Then he turned away, and though he was bodily cold and saturated with the sea water, his heart was full of warmth and a newly-awakened sense of the joy and fulness of life.

      8 Oatmeal and water kept until fermentation has commenced, and then boiled into a thin porridge.

      9 Dear heart.

      10 Woe is me.