“Well,” said she, “be sure you keep straight forward now.”
I asked her who the man was standing near her.
“It is my husband,” said she.
“Has he much English?” said I.
“None at all,” said she, “for his mother was not English, like mine.” I bade her good-night, and went forward. Presently I came to a meeting of roads, and to go straight forward it was necessary to pass through a quagmire; remembering, however, the words of my friend the beldame, I went straight forward, though in so doing I was sloughed up to the knees. In a little time I came to a rapid descent, and at the bottom of it to a bridge. It was now very dark; only the corner of the moon was casting a faint light. After crossing the bridge I had one or two ascents and descents. At last I saw lights before me, which proved to be those of Llan Rhyadr. I soon found myself in a dirty little street, and, inquiring for the inn, was kindly shown by a man to one which he said was the best, and which was called the Wynstay Arms.
CHAPTER LXV
Inn at Llan Rhyadr—A Low Englishman—Enquiries—The Cook—A Precious Couple.
The inn seemed very large, but did not look very cheerful. No other guest than myself seemed to be in it, except in the kitchen, where I heard a fellow talking English, and occasionally yelling an English song; the master and mistress of the house were civil, and lighted me a fire in what was called the Commercial Room, and putting plenty of coals in the grate, soon made the apartment warm and comfortable. I ordered dinner, or rather supper, which in about half-an-hour was brought in by the woman. The supper, whether good or bad, I despatched with the appetite of one who had walked twenty miles over hill and dale.
Occasionally I heard a dreadful noise in the kitchen, and the woman told me that the fellow there was making himself exceedingly disagreeable, chiefly, she believed, because she had refused to let him sleep in the house—she said that he was a low fellow, that went about the country with fish, and that he was the more ready to insult her as the master of the house was now gone out. I asked if he was an Englishman. “Yes,” said she, “a low Englishman.”
“Then he must be low indeed,” said I. “A low Englishman is the lowest of the low.” After a little time I heard no more noise, and was told that the fellow was gone away. I had a little whisky and water, and then went to bed, sleeping in a tolerable chamber, but rather cold. There was much rain during the night, and also wind; windows rattled, and I occasionally heard the noise of falling tiles.