g returned. The
farmer and his family repaired at once to their abode, and my two friends
joined me beneath the tree. Peter sat down at the foot of the oak, and
said nothing. Supper was brought by a servant, not the damsel of the
porch. We sat round the tray, Peter said grace, but scarcely anything
else; he appeared sad and dejected, his wife looked anxiously upon him. I
was as silent as my friends; after a little time we retired to our
separate places of rest.

About midnight I was awakened by a noise; I started up and listened; it
appeared to me that I heard voices and groans. In a moment I had issued
from my tent--all was silent--but the next moment I again heard groans
and voices; they proceeded from the tilted cart where Peter and his wife
lay; I drew near, again there was a pause, and then I heard the voice of
Peter, in an accent of extreme anguish, exclaim, 'Pechod Ysprydd Glan--O
pechod Ysprydd Glan!' and then he uttered a deep groan. Anon, I heard
the voice of Winifred, and never shall I forget the sweetness and
gentleness of the tones of her voice in the stillness of that night. I
did not understand all she said--she spoke in her native language, and I
was some way apart; she appeared to endeavour to console her husband, but
he seemed to refuse all comfort, and, with many groans, repeated--'Pechod
Ysprydd Glan--O pechod Ysprydd Glan!' I felt I had no right to pry into
their afflictions, and retired.

Now 'pechod Ysprydd Glan,' interpreted, is the sin against the Holy
Ghost.

CHAPTER LXXIV

The following day--Pride--Thriving trade--Tylwyth Teg--Ellis Wyn--Sleeping
hard--Incalculable good--Fearful agony--The tale.

Peter and his wife did not proceed on any expedition during the following
day. The former strolled gloomily about the fields, and the latter
passed many hours in the farmhouse. Towards evening, without saying a
word to either, I departed with my vehicle, and finding my way to a small
town at some distance, I laid in a store of various articles, with which
I returned. It was night, and my two friends were seated beneath the
oak; they had just completed their frugal supper. 'We waited for thee
some time,' said Winifred, 'but, finding that thou didst not come, we
began without thee; but sit down, I pray thee, there is still enough for
thee.' 'I will sit down,' said I, 'but I require no supper, for I have
eaten where I have been': nothing more particular occurred at the time.
N