CHAPTER XIX.

Waikato Times, Volume IV, Issue 180, 3 July 1873, Page 3

CHAPTER XIX.

The isle is full of noUcs, Sound'?, and swret .urs. Oer^rd fancied that he was once more on board sliip, when ho woke late in the afternoon, ami found himself in a wooden "bunk, an inelosura of polished oak. TJ-tt he camo to a knowledge) of his real position when he sat up and looked abound : lie had been sleeping in a boarded recps* in the wall of n cottage, in one of t'io»e stuffy, stilling, wniiiheot beds which used to bo the pride and delight of the Wi lsh peasant Opposite to him was a va«t chimney, on the heart'i of which smouldered a fire of peat ; a greit pot hung over the fire, and an old woman «-,iton a stool in a chimney-corner, «ing ; ng to herself softly. There was a mantelshelf above the chimner opening, on which were ranged a row of candlesticks of polished brass ; a long deal table stood against one wall of the room and a wooden bench beside it. ' Well, mother,' he called to tho old woman, ' how did I come here ? ' ' Indeed, how could you come but by the sea, mj dear ? ' cried the old woman cheerfully, rising nnd coming towards her guest. ' Are you not on the blessed Island of tho Saints? Didn't my son John Thomas bring you home from the wreck on the top of his cart on the seaweed ? ' ' Ah ! I remember now,' said Gerard ; ' my head was confined at first. Then where am I? What do you call this place 9 ' 1 Ynys EnlH, my dear, is the name that we give it ; but you Saxons call it another name.' ' You speak English very nicely, mother,' said Gerard. ' Yes, my dear, and I ought. I was brought up in an English family before I married, and I always speak good English — yes sure ' ' And wii.it b-came of the rest of the crew ? ' 'My dear we don't know. The boat didn't come ashore here ; possible she made Port William, possible she lost her*elf Dear, dear!' ' And how am I to get away 9 ' ' Well, my dear, in a boat, when the wind doesn't blow -very much ; but now you can't, get across— mt whatever.' >% ' Can you give me something to eat ? ' ' There's plenty of sweet milk, and oat-cike, too, »nd l'\e got somr brew is on the firo for yon— l thought you'd like somethiug comfortable.' ' A)j ! that I should, mother. It's broth, is it ? ' 'It's bettor than broth, mi'ihqeni ; it's undo of breal, my dear, good wheaten bread, that Ellis Owen baked a fortnight ago. 1 Gerard couldn't help making a face over tho mess the old woman brought him, which resembled a hot noultice, except that it had a fine flavour of peat about it. Nevertheless, to avoid hurting her feelings, he ivrallowed a little of it. ' Dear heart cried the old woman, ' yen can't eat. Ah ! that's a bad sign, my dear ; your'e hurt in your inwards, my dear, Fin afraid. Try to eat a little more ; do try now ; it's so comforting.' The daughter of the house came in m Gerard was bein^ fed, a buxom, good-tempered looking woman. ' Mother,' she cried, ' the tailors have just landed — the men from the ship who got away in the boat— they are coming up the street ; and they are looking everywhere for the young Englishman who was taken ofl the wreik; he's the captain's nephew, it seems, and has run away from Ins work, and they were taking him back to Liverpool, to Jus master ' ' Poor dear,' cried the old woman ; ' he doesn't look fit for work ; indeed no. Keep still, macl>geni, and I'll manage them for you. You lie there like a niijuse — see, I'll draw the curtain ; they cant find you now. — What shall we say to them, Gwen ?' ' Say that he's dead ' ' Indeed, that will do for them nicely. Here they come, machgeni ; they found out who brought you, no doubt.' ' O captain, bach, 1 cried the old woman, as there entered itha door of the cottage Captnin Ellis and his mate, Brumfit — '0 captain, bach,' she cried, wiping her ejes with the corner of her apron, ' to think the poor boy — just dead this miuute— worn out with all he'd pone through. Ah, you're amicl man, I'm afraid, captain, to treat the poor boy like that; and now heY just dead, captain; and I must" have two half crowns to lie upon his eyelids, captain ; and you'll leave something for the burying of him ; indeed, we' must have the parson over from Pwllerogen, and he won't move under a crown — no indeed.' ' Was there nothing in his pockets s ' cried the captain. ' Dim bgd,' said the old wotniin, holding up her hands. 'Nothing in the world. Oh, for shame of you, captain, to treat the boy like that ! Now, the half-crowns, if you please, yes.' ' Diaoul '' cried Ciptiin Ellis. 'Here, old mother, dau reiniog ; plenty, two pennies; put them on his eyes, quite good 'nu ff And as for the burjin', let the parish look to it Gwen Thoin.is.' ' Ah, but you're a hnrd hearted man, and it will come back to you some day,' cried tho old woman, screaming to hiMi as the two men hurried awTty from the door, and hurling after him with contempt the pennies he had given her. ' Ha, ha, ha!' she cried as she came back into her cottage ; ' didn't I send 'em off beautiful for you, machgeni f 1 What a jolly old woman you are '* laid Gerard, looking at her with admiration from his box ; he wondered s>t the promptitude and dexterity with which she had met the emergency, although he was half vexed that he had consented to abet her deception. What could it matter indeed ? He wasn't Captain Elhs's nephew, and the mistake would ha\e been.clea.-ed up if they had seen each other. 'How jolly you are, mother. It looks as if you were used to hiding up young chaps — eh, old girl ?' ' Ha, ha !' laughed the old woman, ' when I was young ; yes, indeed ! Oh, the sport we had when I was joung! The bo\ s were much nicer then than they are now ; yes, indeed ' ' Sing us a song, mother ' She looked so birdish and perky, he eould'nt help asking her to sing. The old lady put down her saucepan, set her arms akimbo, and in a somewhat weak and piping but still sweet and plaintive voice, began the old Welsh air, JJlodaiir fforllewm. As her voice faltered out the end of the stanza, another voice took up the strain; the door was wide open ; and first one and then another of the villagers dropped into the room, till the bench by the table was crowded ; and every one of them took his share in tiie song, which seemed to be ever beginning, never ending. Gerard rose in hit box-bed, beating time to the air ; and the old bard, who had come in too, and taken the cushioned chair by the fire, sat with hie ancient gray face all a»h»ko, and the tears standing in his rheumy eyes. After the penml, thoj had livmni, winch were very sweet too ; and then the oldbard recited a tri.id with great applause, and had a glass cf whisky on the top of it. It was out of r little keg that hid been picked up from the wrejk ; and when all the mm had ta=ted of it, the keg was put away in the box-be 1 :it Gerard's fett ; aft«r th.it the singing went on faster and more furiously till far into the night. ; Gerard's lust impressions being of a mist of human faces, of a perpetual chime of human voices, and of some one continually fetching out the little keg and putting it back again. If he didn't die of asphyxia, it wa9 his strong constitution that saved him. When he came to himself it was just dawn ; two or three men were lying stretched on the floor, their heads in the ashes of the fire ; an old cat was blinking and purring on the bench. The door opened, letting in a flood of cold, b itlng air and chill, dreary daylight: the old seaman who had sa\<*l Gerard from the wreck stood there looking in. • Hollo cried Gerard ; ' come in old fellow. 1 ° ' There's a tug standing off on the south side of the island ; thej 'ye sent a boat ashore for water ; they ire bound for Aberlnrnanr, with a ship they have picked up dismasted, and are lying by under the lee of the island until the weather moderates Would you like to go off to her ? ' ' Yes, I should,' cried Gerard, springing up and hnrrving on his clothes, which had been well dried at the fire the day before ' I should have liked to have said good-bye to tho old lady ; but perhaps ' * See her again,' said the old man — ' see her again ; there's no time to lose; come along.' The old woman had wrapped up liia arm and shoulder in dain;> seaweed, and tho swelling 'and pain were now much lessened ; indeed, he could touch the arm without its hurting him, and could dress himself easily enough. The sea was moderate under the lee of the island, although wild enough in the open. They got aboard tho tug without difficulty, nnd were presently stealing along with a slapping good wind at their quarter, tugging away at a dismasted ship, w Inch rolled to and fro heavily in the sea. But they were bound for Aberhirnant.