"Well, I won't stop longer, Nani fâch; good-bye and thank you."

When she saw her visitor was really going, Nani was profuse in her
offers of hospitality.

"Going! Caton pawb! not without breakfast?"

But Sara was gone, and already making her way to the high road which
led along the brow of the hill to Caer-Madoc. It was twenty years
since she had last been in the town, and even in this remote place
twenty years had brought changes--the busy streets, the shops, the
cries of the vendors of herrings and cockles, would have bewildered and
puzzled her had she not been possessed by a strong purpose and
sustained by that faith which can move mountains. Aided by old
memories she found her way to the quay and to the small steamer with
the long English name, which plied twice a week between the ports of
Caer-Madoc and Cardiff.

"Are you going to Cardiff?" she asked the master, who stood on the quay.

"Why, yes, of course this is the day, and we are starting in a quarter
of an hour. Who are you?" he said, looking with amused curiosity at
the quaint figure with her crutch stick and black bundle.

"I am Sara Lloyd of Garthowen Moor, and I want to go with you to
Cardiff. Will you take me?"

"Of course, little woman, if you can pay."

"Oh, yes," said Sara, undoing the corner of her pocket-handkerchief,