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I know," said Cardo; "the mill in the valley?" "No, round the next shore, and up to the top of the cliff is our house." "Traeth Berwen? That is where I live!" "Well, indeed!" "Yes, I am Caradoc Wynne, and I live at Brynderyn." "Oh! are you Cardo Wynne? I have heard plenty about you, and about your father, the 'Vicare du." "Ah! poor old dad!
Probably a fisherman's wife or daughter!" But he gazed long and steadily before he once more resumed his ride. In hot haste he rode the rest of the way to Brynderyn. "The storm is rising," said the "Vicare du," as he joined his son at the tea-table.
"No, indeed, Madlen fâch; serve the old Vicare right; but 'tis a pity for the poor girl, whatever." "And where is she, I wonder?" "Well, now," said Madlen, "Mary, my sister, was coming home from Caer Madoc last week, and on the roadside there was a tent of gypshwns; it was dark and they had a fire, and there, sitting by the fire, was a girl the very picture of Valmai." "Dir anwl!
Valmai was shaken like a reed by this sudden and unexpected meeting, and the outburst of feeling exhibited by the "Vicare du" awoke in her own heart such a tumult of doubt and suspense, that she could no longer restrain the tears which for days she had kept in check; long, silent sobs heaved her bosom, she covered her face with her hands, and the tears trickled through her fingers, but she made no answer.
He had his finger in the leaves of an old book, and with a far-away look in his blue eyes, all he could say was a bewildered, "Eh!" "The Vicar is coming to see you, Mr. Powell " "What Vicar? What, the 'Vicare du'?" and at this moment the Vicar appeared, and held out his hand.
"See the old 'Vicare du' hunting between his coppers for a threepenny bit! Jâr i man! you would think it was a sovereign he was looking for." "Yes," said Roberts, "the old Vicare is a keen man enough, but just; always pays his bills regularly; he is not as black as they make him out to be." "No, I daresay! They say the devil isn't, either," said Deio.
And your own brother's child! But I'll see she's taken care of, poor thing! And the villain who has brought this misery upon her shall feel the weight of this fist if ever he returns to this country; but he won't; he has got safe away, and she has to bear the shame, poor thing! Wait till I tell the 'Vicare du' what I think of his precious son."
Meurig Wynne, "y Vicare du," or "the black Vicar," as he was called by the country people, in allusion to his black hair and eyes, and also to his black apparel, sat in his musty study, as he had done every evening for the last twenty-five years, poring ever his old books, and occasionally jotting down extracts therefrom.
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