e you coming? Anwl! there's glad
they'd be. You shall go on the platform with Price Merthyr and Jones
Abertawe and all the rest."

"Saul among the prophets," said Cardo, laughing, and picturing himself
among the solemn-faced preachers. "No, no; that wouldn't do, Shanw.
What would my father say?"

"Well, well!" said Shanw, clicking her tongue against her teeth; "'ts,
'ts! 'tis pity indeed. But, there, everybody knows it is not your
fault, Ser."

Cardo frowned, and fell into a brown study. It wounded him to hear his
father blamed, and yet in his heart of hearts he wished he would so far
temper his zeal with Christian charity as to attend the meetings which
were moving the hearts of the people so much.

[1] "The old know, the young appear to know."

[2] Leek broth.

[3] Rodomontade.

[4] Peeped.

[5] Glamorganshire.

CHAPTER III.

THE SASSIWN.

The Sassiwn day dawned bright and clear, and as the time for the first
service drew near, the roads and lanes were thronged with pedestrians
and vehicles of every description.

The doors of the houses in all the surrounding villages were closed for
the day, except in a few cases where illness made it impossible for the
inmates to leave their beds. Everybody--man, woman, and child,
including babies innumerable--turned their faces towards the sloping
field which for the day was the centre of attraction.

Already the grass was getting hidden by the black throng, and still the
crowds arrived, seating themselves row behind row on the wild thyme and
heather. The topmost corner of the field merged into a rocky
wilderness of stunted heath and patches of burnt grass, studded with
harebells, and this unapportioned piece of ground stretched away into
the adjoining corner of the Vicar's long meadow. In the afternoon
Cardo, who had virtuously kept away from the morning meetings,
sauntered down to chat with Dye, who had condescended to absent himself
from the third service, in order to attend to his duties on the farm.

"You sit here, Mr. Cardo," he said, with a confidential wink, "on your
own hedge; the Vicar can't be angry, and you will hear something worth
listening to."

Soon the sloping bank was crowded with its rows of human beings, all
listening with intense interest to a pale, dark man, who stood on the
front of the platform at the bottom of the field, and with sonorous
voice delivered a short opening prayer, followed by an impassioned
address. In th