“There is some difference in your professions,” said I; “he deals in heights, you in depths; both, however, are break-necky trades.”
“I run more risk from gunpowder than anything else,” said the younger man. “I am a slate-miner, and am continually blasting. I have, however, had my falls. Are you going far to-night, sir?”
“I am going to Bethgelert,” said I.
“A good six miles, sir, from here. Do you come from Caernarvon?”
“Farther than that,” said I. “I come from Bangor.”
“To-day, sir, and walking?”
“To-day, and walking.”
“You must be rather tired, sir; you came along the valley very slowly.”
“I am not in the slightest degree tired,” said I; “when I start from here, I shall put on my best pace, and soon get to Bethgelert.”
“Anybody can get along over level ground,” said the old man, laconically.