"Tis very kind of thee, Sara fâch, but a letter would have brought me
the news quite as safely. Well! I wish him joy. 'Tisn't Gethin Owens
is going to turn against his brother, because he has been a fortunate
man, while I have been unfortunate. Yes, I wish him joy, and sweet
Morva every blessing under the sun."

"Twt, twt!" said Sara, "thee art all wrong, my boy. 'Tisn't Morva he
has married at all! and that's how I thought a letter could not explain
everything to thee as I could myself, and bring thee home to the old
country again."

Gethin shook his head.

"No, no; I have said good-bye to Garthowen, I will never go there
again."

"Well! why?" said Sara, still holding his hands, and looking into his
face with those compelling eyes of hers.

"There is no need to tell thee, Sara," said the sailor, a dogged,
defiant look coming into his eyes. "I have said good-bye to Garthowen,
and will never darken its doors again."

"And yet thou hast been very happy there?"

"Ah! yes," said Gethin, a tender smile chasing away the angry look on
his face. "I was very happy there indeed, when I whistled at my
plough, with the song of the larks in my ears, and the smell of the
furze filling the air. But now--no--no! I must never turn my face