and as Valmai led the way, chatting in her broken English, a strange
feeling of happy companionship awoke in Cardo Wynne's heart.

After threading the narrow pathway for half-a-mile or so, they reached
a sudden bend of the little river, where the valley broadened out
somewhat, until there was room for a grassy, velvet meadow, at the
further corner of which stood the ruins of the old parish church,
lately discarded for the new chapel of ease built on the hillside above
the shore.

"How black the ruins look in that corner," said Cardo.

"Yes, and what is that white thing in the window?" said Valmai, in a
frightened whisper, and shrinking a little nearer to her companion.

"Only a white owl. Here she comes sailing out into the moonlight."

"Well, indeed, so it is. From here we can hear the sea, and at the
beginning of the shore I shall be turning up to Dinas."

"And I suppose I must turn in the opposite direction to get to
Brynderyn," said Cardo. "Well, I have never enjoyed a walk from Caer
Madoc so much before. Will they be waiting for you at home, do you
think?"

"Waiting for me?" laughed the girl, and her laugh was not without a
little trace of bitterness; "who is there to wait for me? No one,
indeed, since my mother is dead. Perhaps to-morrow my uncle might say,
'Where is Valmai? She has never brought me my book.' Here it is,
though," she continued, "safe under the crumbs of the gingerbread. I