"Wilt not, indeed?" asked Sara. "Wait till I've told thee all, my lad. And now I have a strange story to tell thee, 'tis of thy poor old father, Gethin."
"My father? what's the matter with him? Thou hast said he's alive, what then? Is he ill? Not ill? What then, Sara?" and his face took a frightened expression; "what evil has come upon the old man?"
His voice sank very low as he clutched the old woman's hand and wrung it unconsciously.
"What is it? not shame, Sara—say, woman, 'tis not shame that has come upon him in his old age!"
Sara was embarrassed for the first time.
"Shame," she said, "in the eyes of men, is sometimes honour in the eyes of God! Listen, Gethin—Dost remember the night of thy going from Garthowen?"
He nodded with a serious look in his eyes.
"That night I had a dream; only, I was awake when I saw it. I was at Garthowen in my dream, and I saw a dark figure entering Gwilym Morris's room; he stooped down and opened a drawer, and took something out of it. I could not see the man's face, but it was not thee, Gethin, though thy sudden disappearance made them think at first, that thou wert the thief; only Morva and I knew better. She heard a footstep that night, and when she went out to the passage, she saw thee coming out of that room. But she and I knew that it was not thou who took the money. What dreadful sight met thee in that room, Gethin bâch, we did not know, but it was something that made thee reel out like a drunken man."
"It was, it was," he answered, shuddering and covering his eyes with his hands, as though he saw it still.
"'Twas a sight that shadowed the whole world to me, and has altered my life ever since. Dei anwl! 'twas a sight I would give my whole life not to have seen."