'Stay, stay, Ales,' exclaimed William, catching at her cloak in the doorway; 'you cannot go all that way on foot, and alone, or at this time o' day.'
Her voice was strangely quiet and determined as she answered—
'The sun has not set. I shall reach Caerphilly before night, and can stay and rest with mother until morning.'
''Deed, now, you had best be staying where you are till morning, and you shall have a horse to ride on. And if there is no one else to go with you, I will go myself, sure.'
After some persuasion, Ales consented to the first proposition, absolutely declining to accept his proffered escort, saying, 'Now Evan be gone you cannot be spared. And, now the money be gone, you must give up playing with stones, and work well to keep the farm from the sly old fox. Ah, sure, and the fox might be glad to catch the young goose near his hole. No, no, Willem, you must not run into danger. There be no need to break your mother's heart as well as mine. If God speed my errand I shall not be alone. Better God's arm than man's army.'
As her cloak went back to the peg, William slipped out through the farmyard, and was off down hill as fast as his legs would carry him. Davy and Jonet, returning from the potato-field where they had been industriously at work, undisturbed and unaware of the overwhelming trouble nearer home, called out to know where he was going; but if he heard he did not answer.
Supper—the old frugal meal of stiff leek porridge and milk—was on the table cooling when he returned out of breath, and whispered to Ales, as she carried out the porridge-pot, that their mutual friend, Robert Jones, had business of his own in Cardiff, and if she would join him at seven in the morning, where the roads met, she could ride all the way on one of his team. He did not tell her all he had said to enlist his old friend in her service, or how heartily the turf-cutter had responded, or that the man's errand was chiefly on her account.
Robert Jones knew more of 'old Pryse' than she did, and hated him as sincerely.
There had been some previous talk between Ales and her old mistress about the young woman's continuation on the farm unless Evan returned to claim her.
'I'd rather serve you for nothing than go away before Evan's good name was cleared, 'deed I would. And it will be cleared some day, I know it will, whatever some folk may think.'