There was a whispering in the passage. In a few minutes Ales brought in a mug of buttermilk and a great hunch of brown bread.
'Here,' she cried, 'eat that; though you don't deserve it, going off no one knows where.'
He thanked her for the unhoped-for supper, but he did not tell her where he had been, though he knew she had an old mother living somewhere in Caerphilly. Whereabouts he did not know, and, having no news of the poor rheumatic old woman, he munched his bread in silence.
His mother never raised her head. If she saw him she made no sign. Rhys had been away all the afternoon. That lay heavier on her heart than any wanderings of William, though he thought otherwise. There was no red-headed Cate lying in wait for her youngest born—no one seeking to steal his heart away from her. She was hesitating whether to take Rhys to task, or, as Ales suggested, to 'wait and let the waters pass.'
But Jane Edwards had not a passive nature. She was more inclined to be up and doing than to wait. 'Yes,' she communed with herself, 'the waters may pass, but they may carry my Rhys with them. I want no Cate ordering about here; the artful jade!'
As if the very thought had been a stimulus, she rose abruptly, and, passing out into the moonlight, joined her son, who was bending over the low stone wall, looking intently down the rugged slope.
'What are you looking for, Rhys?'
He gave a sudden start as she went on, 'Do you be watching the moonlight on the river, and thinking how different was the night that took your father from us?'
She put her arm within his as she spoke, and laid her head, in its white linen cap, against his shoulder.
'Ah, Rhys, that was a terrible time, a terrible time. But, thanks be to God, we won through it. And it made a man of you, my dear boy. Well do I remember how you came to comfort me, and promised always to be a good son, and do your duty by me, and by the children, and by the farm, in the sight of God. And you have always done it, Rhys, fach, always— And—and—it would be breaking my heart, Rhys, if—if—you should be caring more for some one else than for your promise—or for your mother—and—and for Jonet—and the others.' And there she paused, but he made no response, and she continued.