'Dare not? Yet you are not afraid to go through these pathless woods by the riverside at dusk, though a false step might be fatal. Come along with me; I'll see you on a safe road.'
William followed through the ascending wood cautiously as before, ready to brave anything with such a companion.
The sun had not set when they stood upon the heath above, and then the stranger inquired—
'Well, my boy, of what are you afraid?'
'Of going past the Druids' stones, sir.'
'So you are superstitious? What harm can a few old stones do to a stout boy like you?' was asked with a broad smile.
William felt half-ashamed of the confession, how he had been lost when quite little, and had seen the stones make faces at him, adding the current stories he had heard, and his fright that afternoon.
By this time they were descending a slope from the barren heath to the Merthyr Tydvil highway, thus avoiding close proximity to the dreaded circle, although the roadway passed on a lower level. As they went, the stranger did his best to disabuse the boy's mind of his foolish terrors, and gave him to understand that long before there were any Christian churches in the land, or any Christian clergymen, the Druids were the priests, the priests of Baal, and set up those stones for their temples. Yet he said nothing of their horrid rites or human sacrifices, lest he should confirm the boy's dread of the stones.
William listened with wide-open ears, putting in a question here and there, as was his wont, and, to his delight, receiving intelligent replies adapted to the capacity of a thinking child. He was very anxious to know something more about the priests of Baal, but, after a brief identification of them with the idolatrous worshippers of the sun, the stranger, having ascertained that he could read, referred him to the Bible for further information.
They had reached the well-trodden turning to the ford. The sun had by this time set, and twilight was closing in.