LITMIR.BIZ

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chat which was lightening that journey; which lay through a part of Carnarvonshire usually traversed only by wool merchants and cattle dealers-a country of upland farms swept by the sea breezes, where English is not spoken even now by one person in a hundred, and even at inns and post-offices you get only "Dim Sassenach," for your answer. "Do you not say," he went on, "body-birds in English? Oh, but to be sure, it is in the Bible!" with a sudden recovery of his self-esteem.

      "To be sure!" I replied hurriedly. "Of course it is! But as to Mr. Robert Evans, cannot you tell me the story?"

      "I'll be bound there is no man in North or South Wales, or Carnarvonshire, that could tell it better, for Gwen Madoc, of whom you shall hear presently, was aunt to me. You see Robert Evans" – and my friend settled himself in his seat and prepared to go slowly up the long, steep hill of Rhiw which rose before us-"Robert Evans lived in an old house called Court, near the sea, very windy and lonesome. He was a warm man. He had Court from his father, and he had mortgages, and as many as four lawsuits. But he was unlucky in his family. He had years back three sons who helped on the farm, or at times fished; for there is a cove at Court, and good boats. Of these sons only one was married-to a Scotchwoman from Bristol, I have heard, who had had a husband before, a merchant captain, and she brought with her to Court a daughter, Peggy, ready-made as we say. Well, of those three fine men, there was not one left in a year. They were out fishing in a boat together, and Evan-that was the married one-was steering as they came into the cove on a spring tide running very high with a south wind. He steered a little to one side-not more than six inches, upon my honor-and pah! in an hour their bodies were thrown up on Robert Evans' land just like bits of seaweed. But that was not all. Evan's wife was on the beach at the time, so near she could have thrown a stone into the boat. They do say that before she was pining away at Court-it was bleak and lonesome and cold, in the winters, and she had been used to live in the towns. But, however, she never held up her head after Evan was drowned. She took to her bed, and died in the short month. And then of all at Court there were left only Robert Evans and the child Peggy."

      "How old was she then?" I asked. He had paused, and was looking thoughtfully before, as striving, it would seem, to make the situation quite clear to himself.

      "She was twelve, and the old man eighty and more. She was in no way related to him, you will remember, but he had her stop, and let her want for nothing that did not cost money. He was very careful of money, as was right. It was that made him the man he was. But there were some who would have given money to be rid of her. Year in and year out they never let the old man rest but that he should send her to service at least-though her father had been the captain of a big ship; and if Robert Evans had not been a stiff man of his years, they would have had their will."

      "But who-"

      By a gesture he stopped the words on my lips as there rose mysteriously out of the silence about us a sound of wings, a chorus of shrill cries. A hundred white forms swept overhead, and fell a white cluster about something in a distant field. They were sea gulls. "Just those same!" he said proudly, jerking his whip in their direction-"body-birds. When the news that Robert Evans' sons were drowned got about, there was a pretty uprising in Carnarvonshire. There seemed to be Evanses where there had never been Evanses before. As many as twenty walked in the funeral, and you may be sure that afterward they did not leave the old man to himself. The Llewellyn Evanses were foremost. They had had a lawsuit with Court, but made it up now. Besides there were Mr. and Mrs. Evan Bevan, and the three Evanses of Nant, and Owen Evans, and the Evanses of Sarn, and many more, who were all forward to visit Court and be friendly with old Gwen Madoc, Robert's housekeeper. I am told they could look black at one another, but in this they were all in one tale, that the foreign child should be sent away; and at times one and another would give her a rough word."

      "She must have had a bad time," I observed.

      "You may say that. But she stayed, and it was wonderful how strong and handsome she grew up, where her mother had just pined away. The sailors said it was her love of the sea; and I have heard that people who live inland about here come to think of nothing but the land-it is certain that they are good at a bargain-while the fishermen who live with a great space before them are finer men, I have heard, in their minds as well as their bodies; and Peggy bach grew up like them, free and open and upstanding, though she lived inland. When she was in trouble she would run down to the sea, where the salt spray washed away her tears and the wind blew her hair, that was of the color of seaweed, into a tangle. She was never so happy as when she was climbing the rocks among the sea gulls, or else sitting with her books at the cove where the farm people would not go for fear of hearing the church bells that bring bad luck. Books? Oh, yes, indeed! next to the sea she was fond of books. There were many volumes, I have been told, that were her mother's; then Robert Evans, though he was a Wesleyan, went to church because there was no Wesleyan chapel, the Calvinistic Methodists being in strength about here; and the minister lent her many English books and befriended her. And I have heard that once, when the Llewellyn Evanses had been about the girl, he spoke to them so that they were afraid to drive down Rhiw hill that night, but led the horse; and I think it may be true, for they were Calvinists. Still, he was a good man, and I know that many Calvinists walked in his funeral."

      "Requiescat in pace," said I.

      "Eh! Well, I don't know how that may be," he replied, "but you must understand that all this time the Llewellyn Evanses, and the Evanses of Nant, and the others would be over at Court once or twice a week, so that all the neighborhood called them Robert Evans' body-birds; and when they were there Peggy McNeill would be having an ill time, since even the old man would be hard to her; and more so as he grew older. But, however, there was a better time coming, or so it seemed at first, the beginning of which was through Peter Rees' lobster pots. He was a great friend of hers. She would go out with him to take up his pots-oh! it might be two or three times a week. So it happened one day, when they had pushed off from the beach, and Peggy was steering, that old Rees stopped rowing on a sudden.

      "'Why don't you go on, Peter?' said Peggy.

      "'Bide a bit,' said old Rees.

      "'What have you forgotten?' said she, looking about in the bottom of the boat. For she knew what he used very well.

      "'Nought,' said he. But all the same he began to put the boat about in a stupid fashion, afraid of offending her, and yet loath to lose a shilling. And so, when Peggy looked up, what should she see but a gentleman-whom Rees had perceived, you will understand-stepping into the boat, and Peter Rees not daring to look her in the face because he knew well that she would never go out with strangers.

      "Of course the young gentleman thought no harm, but said gayly, 'Thank you! I am just in time.' And what should he do, but go aft and sit down on the seat by her, and begin to talk to Rees about the weather and the pots. And presently he said to her, 'I suppose you are used to steering, my girl?'

      "'Yes,' said Peggy, but very grave and quiet-like, so that if he had not determined that she was old Rees' daughter he would have taken notice of it. But she was wearing a short frock that she used for the fishing, and was wet with getting into the boat, moreover.

      "'Will you please to hold my hat a minute,' he said, and with that he put it in her lap while he looked for a piece of string with which to fasten it to his button. Well, she said nothing, but her cheeks were scarlet, and by and by, when he had called her 'my girl' two or three times more-not roughly, but just off-hand, taking her for a fisher-girl-Peter Rees could stand it no longer, shilling or no shilling.

      "'You mustn't speak that fashion to her, master,' he said gruffly.

      "'What?' said the gentleman, looking up. He was surprised, and no wonder, at the tone of the man.

      "'You mustn't speak like that to Miss McNeill, Court,' repeated old Rees more roughly than before. 'You are to understand she is not a common girl, but like yourself.'

      "The young gentleman turned and looked at her just once, short and sharp, and I am told that his face was as red as hers when their eyes met. 'I beg Miss McNeill's pardon-humbly,' he said, taking off his hat grandly, yet as if he meant it too; 'I was under a great misapprehension.'

      "After that you may believe they did not enjoy the row much. There was scarcely a word said by anyone until they came ashore again. The visitor, to the great joy of Peter,

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