A Welsh Singer: a novel

Front matter

A WELSH SINGER A Welsh Singei & (Hopes BY ALLEN RAINE LONDON Hutchinson & Co. 34 PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C, CONTENTS CHAP. TAGE I. ABERSETHIN SLOPES - I II. THE SHIP INN - 14 III. PRACTISING - 24 IV. GLYNNE AND GWLADYS 28 V. HOPES FULFILLED - - "35 VI. THE EISTEDDFOD - 46 VII. OGO WYLOFEN - 56 VIII. SHADOWS - - 65 IX. CATRIN'S TACTICS - 73 X. PARTING ----- 86 XI. TEA AT THE SHIP INN - 93 XII. NEWS FROM ROME - - 109 XIII. DEPARTURE - - - 113 XIV. EDUCATION - - - - 1 25 XV. TOM'S LOVE - - - 137 XVI. VISIT TO THE WEST END - - - 143 XVII. OLD MEMORIES - • - " J53 XVIII. A DISCOVERY - - - - 160 XIX. OLD FRIENDS - 169 XX. GOOD-BYE TO THE CIRCUS - - - 180 XXI. SULTAN AND TOM - - - - 188 XXII. SINGING TOGETHER - - - 195 XXIII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING - - 203 XXIV. TUNEFUL ECHOES - - - - CONTENTS. VIII CHAP. P*GE XXV.

ONE ABSENT - 225 XXVI. THE DEATH CHAMBER - 23^ XXVII. THE FUNERAL - - 24& XXVIII. THE DINNER PARTY 259 XXIX. A MORNING RIDE - 2^7 XXX. THE WEST END - 2^2 XXXI. RECALLING THE PAST 292 XXXII. THE BALL - - 3or XXXIII. A CONDITIONAL PROMISE 3*5 XXXIV. TOM POMFREY - - 333 XXXV. RECOGNITION - -

Chapter I. Abersethin Slopes

"ALL on a wild March morning," on the rocky west coast of Wales, the sun, not yet risen, was beginning to flush the pale eastern sky. The wind, which had blown all night with the force of a hurricane, was gradually subsiding into fitful gusts, driving the dry sand and foam up to the long grass and rushes that bordered the shore of Abersethin Bay. On the left the broad sea still heaved and tossed, as if in angry remembrance of the last night's stormy wind; on the right rose the two hills called Moel Mynach and Moel Hiraethog, which stood like sentinels overlooking the bay. Between them stretched a sandy beach, down the middle of which ran the little river Sethin. On the slope of Moel Mynach a boy and a girl were standing in earnest conversation, and evidently in some distress, for the tears ran down the girl's face, and the boy looked grave and serious.

" Don't cry, Mifanwy," he said. " It's no good crying ; the sheep is gone ; there it is at the bottom of A the cliff, as dead as a red herring, and we've got to go and tell the master." " Oh ! what will I do ? what will I do ? " wailed the girl, with a fresh burst of tears. " He will beat me again, Ieuan, for this is the second I have lost this year." " Didn't thee count them last night ? " " Yes, indeed, and they were all there ; " and she leaned over the edge of the crag to take another look at the dead sheep. " Oh, poor thing, poor thing ! " " What if I tell him it was one of my sheep ? I'm not afraid of his beating," said the boy. " Oh, no, Ieuan, it would be a lie ; and besides, thee would get the beating, and that would be worse than anything." "Stop a bit!" said Ieuan, running his sunburnt hands through his brown curls in puzzled thought.

" Let's call Robert the Mill to watch the sheep while we are away ; " and in another moment he was half way down the hill, running towards the old mill that stood at the bottom. He soon returned, followed by Robert, a good-natured lout of fourteen. "We'll soon be back," said Ieuan ; " now come along, Mifanwy ; " and, with a few parting injunctions to Topper, the sheep dog, they made their way hand in hand over the brow of the hill towards a large white house — half farm-house, half mansion — where John Powys, their master and the owner of the sheep, lived. The cold morning wind followed them up the hill, ruffling their hair and wrapping Mifanwy's ragged blue skirt round her thin form. Her bare feet were small and well formed, but abnormally dark in hue ; the skin of her face and hands, too, had been so scorched and browned by the sun and Avind, that one might easily imagine her to belong to some southern race.

Her companion was a year older than herself and a good deal taller. Hurrying along, helped forward by the strong sea wind, they reached their destination all too soon for Mifanwy, who hung back timidly when they reached the back door of the house and looked into the kitchen, where the servants were just sitting down to their breakfast of milk porridge and barley bread. " I want to see the master," said the boy, standing sturdily at the door. " Want to see the master ? " said a rough, hard voice from a dark passage, through AA'hich John Powys was entering the kitchen. He always came in at meal times, and never failed to cast a furtive glance round the table to see that there was no surreptitious slice of cheese or smear of butter on the bread. He was not wholly without good looks ; indeed, by the young girls ofthe village he was called "a handsome man"; but his eyes looked cunning and shifty, and his large mouth disclosed a row of teeth, which, though white and even, had a cruel look.

His figure was firmly knit, and his hands, seasoned by manual labour, looked hard and strong as sledge hammers. " What ! both of you here ? " he cried in Welsh, when he saw the girl's shrinking figure ; " and what's to become of the sheep ? Do I pay you threepence a day to wander about, you rascal ! and you, you hussy, what do you want here ? Don't I pay you twopence a day to watch my sheep ? Is it any Avonder they stray and die while you are loitering about the country ? " Ieuan took a step backwards as the angry man advanced, but still stood valiantly before Mifanwy. " Robert the Mill and Topper are watching them, sir," he answered, " and we have only come to tell you that another sheep has fallen over the cliff. Mifanwy counted them last night, but she must have counted wrong ; she is very sorry, sir, and so am I." " Sorry, indeed !

" roared John Powys in a voice of fury. " I'll make you sorry before I have done with you ! " and, turning on his heel, he retraced his steps through the dark passage, and, standing at the foot of an old staircase, called out, " Laissabeth, Laissabeth, bring me my strap." There were a few moments of Avaiting, while Laissabeth was heard moving about on the uncarpeted floor above ; she soon appeared, however, holding in her hand a leather strap with a brass buckle at one end. She Avas a girl of about the age of Mifanwy, at whom she looked with a malicious smile. " Now stand off," said her uncle, " and let me give her a taste of the strap." The servants all stood up, looking frightened and serious, while Mifanwy, running a few steps in terror, gave the tyrant, as he thought, a good opportunity for the first stroke ; but he was balked, for, before the buckle had fallen on the ragged blue frock, Ieuan had sprung forward and covered the small thin body with his sturdier form, so that the strap descended upon him only.

She struggled to free herself and bear her own punishment, while he tried his best to shield her. " There ! get up, you tramps ! " said the master at last, " and go back to your work ; and you, John Ellis, follow after and skin the sheep. And, look here, you two brats," he continued, "look Tiere, if one more of my sheep dies, as sure as God is in heaven I will get rid of you both and send you to Caer Madoc Work house," and, shaking his fist at the children, he re entered the house. When he had disappeared, Laissabeth approached the boy and the girl, Avho stood panting against the old elder tree on whose branches the hens and turkeys slept at night, and which formed a thick porch over the back door. She was dressed in a pink cotton frock — which, in Mifanwy's eyes, was the height of grandeur and fashion — and held her straw hat in her hand ; she had no need to wear it, for neither wind nor sun ever seemed to affect the dazzling Avhiteness of her skin.

Her golden hair hung down her back in two long plaits ; her blue eyes and dimpled face Avere generally wreathed in smiles, but now the eyes looked tearful and the face pale. She drew her soft white fingers tenderly over Ieuan's sunburnt hands, and the tears, which he had hitherto restrained, started to his eyes. " Oh, Ieuan bach ! "* she cried, taking no notice of Mifanwy, who stood by silent Avith a sullen look on her dark face, "art hurt? Why didn't thee leave Mifanwy to bear her own punishment ? It Avas all her fault ; oh dear, oh dear ! " and the tears began to fall with long-drawn sobs. " Hurt ! no, not a bit," said Ieuan, rubbing his shoulder ; " so don't cry, and spoil thy pretty eyes. Mifanwy and I will go back to Moel Mynach ; only give us a hunch of bread, for Ave have had no break fast."

She ran into the kitchen, and soon re-appeared with a piece of barley bread, a slice of cheese, and a tin jug of milk, Avhich she pressed into Ieuan's hands. " Here, here, take them," she said, " and don't show thyself to my uncle." The food was meant for the boy alone, a fact which Mifanwy fully realised ; but Ieuan, unconscious of it, accepted the provisions gratefully, and, with a back ward glance of thanks to Laissabeth, took Mifanwy by the hand, and they began their way towards the brow of the hill. " Wert hurt, Mifanwy ? " he asked. " No," answered the girl, " not at all." Then flinging herself down on the grassy side of the road, she broke into a flood of tears, that Ieuan tried in vain to stem. At last, exhausted with the passion of her grief, she lay silent and subdued, her dark face and swollen eyelids making her look the picture of misery.

Ieuan tempted her with the bread and cheese, but she would not touch them. " Some milk, then, or thou wilt faint," said the boy, holding the jug to her lips; but she pushed it roughly aAvay, and sprang to her feet with flashing eyes. 1 Bach — dear. " Drink it thyself," she said ; " it is for thee. I was not hurt, and want no pity." The boy's healthy appetite asserted itself in spite of bruised arms and shoulders ; so, sitting down on the wild thyme, he began his breakfast, ceasing only Avhen there was nothing left to eat, Mifanwy standing by, struggling silently with the pangs of hunger, and still more with the fiercer pangs that were gnawing at her heart. She had seen on Laissabeth's face, while the girl Avas handing the strap to her uncle, a vindictive look of pleasure — of pleasure, however, that had been quickly changed to pain when Ieuan had inter posed to shield his companion, and the memory of that look had aroused in Mifanwy a bitter feeling of jealousy and anger.

The children had been play mates and companions on the green hillsides from their earliest childhood ; but gradually, as Laissabeth had grown older, she had begun to realise her im portance as the niece of the rich and miserly John Powys. She had frequently Avounded the proud and sensitive nature of the little shepherdess, sometimes by ignoring her altogether, sometimes by assailing her with ridicule and taunts; and the feeling of anger, that had by degrees taken the place of childish affec tion in the girl's heart, had culminated this morning in a feeling of bitter antagonism. Meanwhile, Robert the Mill had been longing to be relieved of his charge. Hc had been seized Avith giddiness, and that sickening dread which sometimes attacks a mountain climber suddenly and unaccount ably ; and, when Ieuan and Mifanwy returned to their sheep, he was clinging to a broom bush in abject terror.

"It's a horrid place," he said sulkily, "and it's a wicked wind that blows up here. I thought I was quite safe, because the Avind blew in from the sea, but, instead of that, it blew straight up against the cliff, and then rushed back at me as if it wanted to push me off. Come to the mill Avhen thee likes Ieuan, but don't ask me to watch the sheep again," and off he went, grumbling audibly down the hill. "Well, indeed, he is quite right," said Mifanwy, smiling. " I have often felt, Avhen the wind blows hard from the sea, as if it came back to me angrily and tried to push me off." " Oh, yes, I have had to fight with it like a living creature sometimes," said Ieuan ; " but whoop ! I must go, Mifanwy ; just see those sheep trailing down towards the valley ; I will come back this evening after supper," and Mifanwy was soon left alone with out a human voice or face to cheer her solitude.

She went to the edge of the cliff, and looked down sorroAV fully at the dead sheep. Its companions were all browsing peacefully on the hillside, cropping the short herbage and walking the dangerous paths, in brute unconsciousness of the gap in their ranks that death had made. Gradually the sun came up over the hill and began to gild the " slopes " ; the wild thyme and the gorse sent up their incense to greet him, the sea pinks peeped out bravely from their grey-green tufts, the sea below sparkled and glinted in the new-born radiance, and the gulls sailed about like flecks of snow. Looking across the valley, Mifanwy, her keen eyes accustomed to long distances, could distinctly see Ieuan lying on the grass ; she knew well that before him stood a block of the soft slaty rock of the neighbourhood, and that from it he was carving with rude tools one of the shapes of beauty that came con tinually into his head, and that never left him a moment's peace until his hands had formed them.

He was a sculptor born ; from babyhood it had been his soul's delight to mould and carve from any sub stance — clay, or stone, or wood — imitations of the things of simple beauty he saw around him. At first his models had been the bowls and platters in ordinary use in his thatched home ; later, the sheep and horses, and even the pigs, had been either carved or moulded. A AVELSH SINGER. 8 Many a time had Mifanwy rescued from the " midden," that leaned comfortably against the sunny garden hedge, the treasures of carving that Shan, their foster-mother, did not appreciate, and carried them surreptitiously into the loft, where she had ranged them upon a high rough shelf that ran round the attic apportioned to the two children. And to-day, while she watched him lying on the grass, his sheep dog, Juno, sitting beside him, she knew he was deeply intent upon a group he had been carving for some time past.

As the long day wore away, the sun seemed to gather strength and heat, and every little flower and blade of grass held up its head, rejoicing, and singing to those who had ears to hear, " Spring is coming ! spring is here!" Gradually every cloud disappeared, and after a day of brilliant shining, the sun set behind the sea like a ball of fire, making a crimson patlnvay, over which Mifanwy and Topper gazed in silence. The silence was broken ere long by the girl's crooning, in a low tone, one of the old pathetic hymns of her nation, that must surely have been caught by her ancestors from the sound of the wind as it whistled over their bleak moors, or sighed through their deep forests in the early ages, so closely do some of the melodies imitate its weird and mournful tones. The crooning was liquid and musical, and as the girl sat leaning against a broom bush, her hands folded listlessly on her lap, her beautiful eyes — so dark, that they seemed to throw a brown shade on her cheek — fixed dreamily upon the sea, her red lips parted, showing the white and even teeth, the body all so calm and motionless, the spirit welling forth in living, thrilling tones, one might well imagine that, for the time, the spirit of music had entered her frame and Avas con trolling it.

The exciting events of the day had ruffled the usual calmness of her simple life, and in all such experience, whether of sorrow or of joy, her feelings found vent in song, sometimes mournful and Q Availing, sometimes rising into joyful and exuberant strains. The cottagers in the valley beloAV Avere Avell acquainted with these bursts of song, and the intense love of music, characteristic of their nation, caused them to listen with delight, and often to drop their occupations and run out of doors, the better to hear the clear and powerful notes that echoed between the high cliffs and mountain crags. "What has upset Mifanwy to-day?" they would exclaim, or, "Caton pawb!1 what is it pleases Mifamvy to-day?" Robert the Mill especially was much influenced by the differing tones of her voice ; when the melody was wailing and sad, he stood at the doorway looking mournfully up to Moel Mynach ; but when the tones were jubilant and cheer ful, he whistled at his work, keeping time with the clap, clap, clap of the mill.

As for Ieuan, the usual effect upon him was to bring him racing over the sands, and up the side of the hill, singing Avhile he came. The sun had quite disappeared, the sea had changed into lovely shades of violet and pink, and Mifanwy still sang on. She turned to look over the long reach of sands tOAvards Moel Hiraethog, and saw that Ieuan was gathering his flock into the fold with the help of Juno, whose short yaps came clear and distinct upon the evening air. She ceased her singing, and Topper Avas instantly on the alert. " Hoi y defaid ! 2 Topper," she said, and the dog, nothing loth, was soon scouring hither and thither, and driving before him every stray sheep and wandering lamb. Mifanwy scrutinised them narrowly as they passed into the fold, and fastening the hurdles with extra care, seated herself once more upon the wild thyme.

She saw the fishing boats lower their sails as they dreAV into the beach below ; she saAv the gloAving 1 An exclamation of astonishment, as, " good gracious ! " 2 " Fetch the sheep ! " tints of sunset fade into the cold, grey shadows of evening; she saw Ieuan, followed by Juno, turning his steps towards Maen Powys, their master's home, and she knew it was supper-time, and she was hungry ; but still she sat on and watched the sheep in the fold. As it greAV darker, the moon looked down over the hill-top, and the cold March wind blew fitfully around her ; but still she kept her post, until, at last, Ieuan came shouting down the rfiountain-side. " Hoi ! hoi ! Mifanwy, where art, girl ? Art not going home to-night ? " And when he drew nearer, she saw with pleasure that his wallet looked filled out, and that he carried a jug in his hand.

She stretched out her own hands eagerly. " What is it ? " she asked. " I knew thee wouldst bring my supper ! " " Bwdran it is," said Ieuan, producing wooden spoon and bowl from his wallet, and pouring out the contents of his jug. " And bread and cheese, Mifanwy ; but why didn't thee come up to supper ? Laissabeth was away, too. John Powys laughed when he saw thou Avert missing. ' She's afraid of the strap,' he said, 'and quite right, too.' But I brought thee thy share in spite of him ! " " Yes; and more," said the girl, beginning to eat ; then with a sigh she added, " but he is right, Ieuan, I am afraid of the strap." "Afraid of the strap?" said Ieuan, looking down at her with astonishment ; " didn't thee say thee did not feel it a bit ? Didn't I keep every blow from thee ? " " Yes," said Mifanwy, " but indeed, indeed, Ieuan, I felt it worse than any beating he has ever given me.

When I heard the blows fall thick on thee, I felt them, oh ! I felt them more than if they had fallen on my own flesh." " Well, indeed, Mifanwy," said Ieuan, " thou art a strange girl, and ungrateful into the bargain, after all I bore for thee ! " And, taking off his jacket, he held his bare arm close to her face, endeavouring to show her the bruises in the fading light. Wait till to-morrow," he said indignantly, " and I'll shoAv thee my back, all bruised and swollen ; and feel this cut on my head ; and, after all, to say thee felt it more than ever ! " " Well, Ieuan, it is true ! " rejoined Mifanwy, " and thee must never do it again." " I won't," said Ieuan, nodding his head ; " but thee art an odd girl. Now, see Laissabeth ! how tender she was ; she smoothed my hand Avith her little white fingers.

I have promised to get her a sea-gull's egg to-morrow." Mifanwy sighed. " Thee'st very fond of Laissa beth ? " she said. " Well, indeed ! she's so pretty, and so kind. She wouldn't be ungrateful." Mifanwy sighed again, and looked pensively at her brown feet. " Art coming home ? " asked Ieuan. "No," replied Mifamvy ; "thee can tell Ianto and Shan I'll be home to-morrow night ; but to-night I must watch the sheep." Ieuan, still sulky, took his crook, and began his way over the right shoulder of the hill ; but, before he had gone far, he turned round and called through the darkness, "Mifanwy! art afraid here by thyself? Shall I stay with thee ? " Mifanwy was crying softly in the darkness, and could only answer with a shake of the head, that Ieuan, of course, could not hear or see ; so he stalked away, leaving her to her solitude.

It was not the first night she had spent beneath the stars, but she had never before begun her vigil Avith a heart so heavy. She sat on the mountain-side, and her thoughts re verted to the events of the morning, and the fiery Welsh blood kindled Avithin her. Topper sat beside her,Avith histongue hanging out and his eyes half closed. " I did count the sheep last night, and they were all right, Topper, and I fastened the hurdle carefully ; some wicked person came and unfastened it, some body who hated me, Topper." The dog licked her face, and, putting her arm round his neck, she drew him close to her side. " Who did it, Topper ? No body hates me but Laissabeth ; she did it !" cried the girl, starting to her feet, her brown eyes flashing, and her dark face flushing a deep red Avith her suspicion.

" It was Laissabeth, Topper ; nobody else in the world would be so Avicked ; to-night we'll catch her." Topper pricked his ears, and stood up ready for action. "We'll Avatch, Topper, and we'll catch her, and thou shalt seize her, and then we'll tell Ieuan, and he'll never like her again." And, sitting down once more beside her dog, she fell into a deep reverie, in which she pictured herself detecting her enemy red-handed, and exposing her to Ieuan's withering contempt. On and on in the still Avatches ofthe night she sat Avith Avide open eyes, and, when the night grew colder, she brought from the hut built on the hillside, as a shelter for the shepherds, an old red cloak that had served her in many a storm ; wrapping it around her, she crouched again, a weird little* dark figure in the shadow of a stunted haw thorn.

Suddenly she started, her eyes opened Avider, and she stared with a quivering excitement, Avhich Topper shared in every muscle ; for they saw the silent, stealthy figure of a girl making her Avay round the shoulder of the hill. At a turning in the path, the moonlight caught her head and shoulders, and Laissabeth stood revealed. For a moment a look of vindictive satisfaction glowed in Mifanwy's eyes, and both she and the dog seemed to be steadying them selves for a spring upon the unconscious enemy. " Down, Topper ; lie down and Avatch." Topper obeyed, and, with his nose on the ground between his two front paws, lay motionless, with eyes and ears alert. Mifamvy, too, watched silently, but while she watched, a gradual change came over her face. " How dreadful to catch her in the very act, how ashamed she will be ; and I — I shall be ashamed, too, and Ieuan will be unhappy and ashamed for Laissa beth.

No, no, I will not." And, restraining Topper's frantic efforts to rush away, she began in loud, clear tones to sing one of her mountain songs. Laissabeth heard, and knew that Mifanwy was still with her sheep. Immediately she checked her steps, and retired as quickly as she could into the shadow of the hill ; and Avhile Mifamvy still sang and watched her, she passed round the edge of the hill, and disappeared from view. Gradually Mifamvy's song died aAvay in trembling tones, and ended in a burst of sobs. " Cruel, bad girl, how I hate her ! " she cried ; " but I will never tell Ieuan ; it would make him so un happy, and he must go on liking her." At last she turned towards the shepherd's hut, followed sulkily by Topper, who Avas evidently disgusted at the tame ending to his night Avatch. In one corner of the hut a heap of heather Avas spread, and on this Mifanwy stretched herself, wrapped in an old red cloak, Topper lying at her feet. The day's events had tired her out, and she was soon sleeping the sleep of youth and innocence.

Chapter II. The Ship Inn

At one end of the village of Abersethin, where the roadway or village street lost itself in the sandy grass and loose stones which bordered the shore, stood The Ship Inn. There was no occasion to go any farther, for there was nothing beyond it but rough grass and sea holly, mixed with clumps of seaweed ; so it stood defiantly across the road, looking straight down the straggling street, its low doorway always open, its small windows overshadowed by its thickly thatched roof. They were not made to open, but there was no necessity for this, for all the doors remained unclosed from morning to night, and the large open chimneys provided sufficient ventilation without the modern luxury of sash windows. The place reeked of the sea. EA'ery door in the house was coated Avith tar ; the floor, which was paved with round cobble stones set in a diagonal pattern, was swept out every morning Avith a hard broom of heath blossoms, and freshly covered Avith sand, which Betto, the maid-of-all-work, fetched in her apron from the shore.

Before the day was over this sand had become so saturated Avith beer, the droppings from the jugs, the glasses and " blues," that the air was always pervaded by a mingled odour of sour beer, seaweed, and tar, that permeated the air of the whole place, and when the wind blew from the south, reached to the farther end of the village. The children grew up in that odour, and, in after years, whenever, in distant ports, the same kind of scent reached their noses, it brought back to the sailors' minds the old dark kitchen at The Ship Inn, with its wide, open chimney, up which the peat fire sent its circling blue smoke, and where, hanging above its glowing embers, the huge crock of " cawl " sent its appetising odour through the house, or the kettle hissed and sang its cheerful song in readiness for the cosy tea.

On each side of the open hearth stood settles of black and shining oak, on one of Avhich sat, Avhen she was not trotting about, Catrin HoAvells, the landlady, and the patron saint of half the male inhabitants of Abersethin. It cannot be said that she was such a favourite with the female half of the community, although they always came to her in any trouble or grievance, always to find a ready ear and a sympa thising heart ; but there Avas a lurking jealousy of her ; her cheerful fire and excellent " home-brewed " ale were too attractive ; she was too prosperous, too con tent ; her brewings always turned out excellent, and clear as crystal ; her bread Avas known to be the best in the village, and, moreover, she had no children to worry her ! In fact, Catrin HoAvells, in the opinion of her female friends, was unfairly exempt from the ordinary troubles of womankind.