“Peth yw hono sydd yn gorwedd yna ar y ddaear?” said a masculine voice.
“Yn wirionedd—I do not know what it can be,” said the female voice, in the same tongue.
“Here is a cart, and there are tools; but what is that on the ground?”
“Something moves beneath it; and what was that—a groan?”
“Shall I get down?”
“Of course, Peter, some one may want your help.”
“Then I will get down, though I do not like this place, it is frequented by Egyptians, and I do not like their yellow faces nor their clibberty clabber, as Master Ellis Wyn says. Now I am down. It is a tent, Winifred, and see, here is a boy beneath it. Merciful father! what a face!”
A middle-aged man, with a strongly marked and serious countenance, dressed in sober-coloured habiliments, had lifted up the stifling folds of the tent and was bending over me. “Can you speak, my lad?” said he in English, “what is the matter with you? if you could but tell me, I could perhaps help you—” “What is it that you say? I can’t hear you. I will kneel down;” and he flung himself on the ground, and placed his ear close to my mouth. “Now speak if you can. Hey! what! no, sure, God forbid!” then starting up, he cried to a female who sat in the cart, anxiously looking on—“Gwenwyn! gwenwyn! yw y gwas wedi ei gwenwynaw. The oil! Winifred, the oil!”
CHAPTER LXXII.
Desired Effect—The Three Oaks—Winifred—Things of Time—With God’s Will—The Preacher—Creature Comforts—Croesaw—Welsh and English—Mayor of Chester.