The service over I returned to the parlour of the inn. There I sat for a long time lone and solitary, staring at the fire in the grate. I was the only guest in the house; a great silence prevailed both within and without; sometimes five minutes elapsed without my hearing a sound, and then perhaps the silence would be broken by a footstep at a distance in the street—at length finding myself yawning I determined to go to bed. The freckled maid, as she lighted me to my room, inquired how I liked the sermon. “Very much,” said I. “Ah,” said she, “did I not tell you that Mr. Pugh was a capital preacher?” She then asked me how I liked the singing of the gals who sat in the next pew to mine. I told her that I liked it exceedingly. “Ah!” said she, “them gals have the best voices in Bala. They were once Methody gals, and sang in the chapels, but were convarted, and are now as good Church as myself. Them gals have been the cause of a great many convarsions, for all the young fellows of their acquaintance amongst the Methodists—”
“Follow them to church,” said I, “and in time become converted. That’s a thing of course. If the Church gets the girls she is quite sure of the fellows.”
CHAPTER LXXIV
Proceed on Journey—The Lad and Dog—Old Bala—The Pass—Extensive View—The Two Men—The Tap Nyth—The Meeting of the Waters—The Wild Valley—Dinas Mawddwy.
The Monday morning was gloomy and misty, but it did not rain, a circumstance which gave me no little pleasure, as I intended to continue my journey without delay. After breakfast I bade farewell to my kind hosts and also to the freckled maid, and departed, my sachel o’er my shoulder and my umbrella in my hand.
I had consulted the landlord on the previous day as to where I had best make my next halt, and had been advised by him to stop at Mallwyd. He said that if I felt tired I could put up at Dinas Mawddwy, about two miles on this side of Mallwyd, but that if I were not he would advise me to go on, as I should find very poor accommodation at Dinas. On my inquiring as to the nature of the road he told me that the first part of it was tolerably good, lying along the eastern side of the lake, but that the greater part of it was very rough, over hills and mountains belonging to the great chain of Arran, which constituted upon the whole the wildest part of all Wales.
Passing by the northern end of the lake I turned to the south and proceeded along a road a little way above the side of the lake. The day had now to a certain extent cleared up, and the lake was occasionally gilded by beams of bright sunshine. After walking a little way I overtook a lad dressed in a white great coat and attended by a tolerably large black dog. I addressed him in English, but finding that he did not understand me I began to talk to him in Welsh.
Lad.—Very fine, sir, and a good dog; though young, he has been known to kill rats.
Myself.—What is his name?