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The Sassiwn day dawned bright and clear, and as the time for the first service drew near, the roads and lanes were thronged with pedestrians and vehicles of every description. The doors of the houses in all the surrounding villages were closed for the day, except in a few cases where illness made it impossible for the inmates to leave their beds.
"You have ridden him too soon after his sprain, as I told you, but young men always know better than their elders." "Well, you were right anyway this time, father." "Yes," said his father; "as the old proverb says, 'Yr hên a wyr yr ifanc a debyg." "Shouldn't wonder if it rained to-morrow, the wind has veered to the south; it will be bad for the 'Sassiwn, won't it?" said Cardo, after a pause.
They were both Methodists, and it had gone hard with the Vicar before he had taken them into his service; but the exigencies of farm life had compelled him to do so, as there was absolutely not one young man amongst his own congregation. To do him justice, he had forgotten for the moment that the market day at Llanilwyn would also be the Sassiwn day.
"The what?" said the Vicar, looking full at his son. "The 'Sassiwn, sir, as they call it; the Methodist Association, you know, to be held here next week." "I don't want to hear anything about it; I take no interest in the subject." "Won't you go then, father? There will be thousands of people there."
To clear out the barn next day was easy enough, but to get Dye and Ebben to the market on the following day would be impossible. It was the opening of the Sassiwn, and he knew that neither of the men would be absent on that occasion, even though disobedience should cost them their place.
"Do you remember, father, the Sassiwn begins the day after to-morrow?" "I had forgotten it, but I don't see what difference that can make to my buying a cow." "But Ebben and Dye will want to be at the meetings." A shadow crossed the old man's face. He made no answer, but continued to eat his supper in silence, and at last rose, and with a short "Good-night, Cardo," went into his study.
In the cool dairy at Dinas, and in and out of the rambling old kitchen, she was busy with her preparations for the guests who would fill the house during the Sassiwn. She bustled about, with Marged Hughes in attendance, looking very different, but every bit as charming, in her neat farm dress as she had on her visit to Caer Madoc.
As usual after supper he followed Betto into the old kitchen, where the servants were assembled for supper, and where Shanw was again holding forth, to her own delight and Betto's disgust, on the coming glories of the Sassiwn. "To-morrow evening will be the first meeting." "Will it be in the field?" asked Cardo. "Oh, no, Ser; the first is in the chapel always, and no strangers are there.
There was such an insidious mixture of flattery and sarcasm in her words that, for a moment Ebben was at a loss what to answer, so Malen, the milkmaid, took the opportunity of changing the subject. "There's tons of bread will be baked on Monday," she said, "ready for the Sassiwn.
Cardo, ruthlessly striding through the dew-bespangled gossamer of the turnip field, heard with pleasure from Dye that the adjoining field, which sloped down to the valley, had been fixed upon for the holding of the Sassiwn.
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