"I must wake her, pwr thing," said Sara, and she began to call softly,
"Nani, Nani fâch!"
The sleep of age is easily put to flight, and Nani opened her eyes.
"Sara ''spridion'!" she said, in astonishment. "Sara Lloyd, I mean, but I was dreaming, Sara dear. What is it?" and she sat up not a little disturbed, for Sara's name alone sufficed to arouse the latent fear of the "hysbis" or occult, always lurking in the Celtic mind.
Sara only smiled as the word "'spridion" escaped the frightened woman's lips.
"Is it time to get up?" she said, beginning to rub her eyes.
"No, no," said Sara, taking a seat by the bedside, and leaning upon her stick. "Lie still, Nani fâch, and forgive me for awaking you, but I am going a journey, and a journey that won't wait."
"Oh, dear!" said Nani, "are you going by the old trên, then? As for me, I'm too frightened of it to go and see my own daughter. She's asked me many times, and I would have good living there, but I wouldn't venture in the trên for the whole world!"
"I'm not afraid of it," said Sara, "but I have never seen it. 'Twould
be strange to me, and the shipping comes more natural, so I'm going to
Caer-Madoc, for I know the steamer sails from there to Cardiff every
Tuesday. I hope I will be there in time; but tell me, Nani, about
Kitty your daughter."
"She is married again, and such a good husband she has. John Parry nearly killed her, pwr thing, and then he died, and she married this man—his name is Jones."
"But I want to know," said Sara, "did she say anything about Gethin
Owens when she was here?"