The Adventures And Vagaries Of Twm Shon Catti Part 10

CHAP. XXI.

Twm overtakes an old acquaintance. Sad news from Tregaron. Outwits another highwayman, and rides off with his horse.

TWM, though naturally elated with his good fortune, did not suffer it to overcome his caution for the rest of the journey; and as he found himself no less than seventy-four miles from London, he calculated on many more attacks before he should reach it. He was sent for next morning by the mayor of Marlborough, who had heard of his adventure, and required to bring the horse with him, which he had so adroitly won. Many gentlemen having a.s.sembled at the entrance of the town-hall, our hero appeared in all the pride of a conqueror, mounted on his goodly steed; their hats were doffed, and loud shouts of applause immediately given. It was soon ascertained by the mayor and the gentlemen present, that the horse was regularly bred to the road, and instructed by a highwayman, therefore, not as first conjectured, the property of any person deprived of it by one of these free-faring gentry: consequently, the mayor, with many compliments on his cleverness, told our hero that the horse was his own by right of conquest; but that if he was inclined to part with it, he would give fifty pounds for it. Twm directly a.s.sented, and the money was paid to him the same morning.

Learning there was to be a fair next day at Hungerford, a town ten miles further on, he resolved to walk there with a view of purchasing a subst.i.tute for his lost pony, as he judged his original mode of travelling, although the least comfortable, the most secure that he could adopt. About three miles out of Hungerford, he saw before him a pig-drover with a large herd of porkers, that he alternately cursed in the ancient British tongue, and cut up with a whip, while at intervals between these amusing recreations he loudly sang or roared certain sc.r.a.ps of Welsh songs. Twm's ear was quick in recognizing the well-known voice, and he soon stood side by side with his old friend Wat the mole-catcher.

After mutual expressions of wonder and congratulation, Twm eagerly asked him how his mother was, as well as Farmer Cadwgan and his daughter Gwenny. Wat replied that his mother and her husband were well; but instead of answering the latter part of his question, enquired his adventures since he left Tregaron. Twm, with animated vanity, ran over that brief portion of his history, occasionally heightening the colour of events, according to the general practice of story-tellers from time immemorial; dwelling particularly on his fortunate preservation of the lady of Ystrad Fin, and the benefits which accrued to him in consequence, from the liberality of Sir George Devereux, whose confidential agent he then was, on business of the utmost importance, to London.

After practising to his utmost to astonish Wat with the riches and vast consideration of his "friend" Sir George, Twm very conceitedly observed, "Well Wat, were he ten times as rich and powerful, I should never envy him anything he possessed, but one lovely piece of property." "And what might that be?" asked Wat. "Why," replied the other, "could I once forget poor Gwenny Cadwgan, which I never can, I should envy him the possession of his charming young wife, the beautiful lady of Ystrad Fin-the finest, the handsomest, and cleverest woman I ever saw! and although now married to a second husband, she is little more than three-and-twenty years of age. But I was asking of my old sweetheart Gwenny, poor Gwenny Cadwgan."-"Poor Gwenny Cadwgan indeed!" sighed Wat, interrupting him. The pathetic and mysterious manner in which the mole-catcher spoke this, alarmed our hero and produced an instant change in his manner; "What of her Wat," cried he eagerly, "is any thing the matter? tell me quickly, for heaven's sake!" Wat answered in a tone of greater feeling than any one would have believed him to possess, "She is dead, Twm-dead, and in her cold grave, these four months past. G.o.d forgive you, if you have sent her to it, but you alone have the blame of it at Tregaron." This intelligence was a thunderbolt to our hero; his agony appeared insupportable, as he sat on the road side to indulge it, till tears came to his relief, which at length flowed abundantly. It was not till after they were lodged for the night at Hungerford that Twm found himself capable of questioning his friend further on this unhappy subject, when he was informed that the fair Gwenny Cadwgan had declined in health from day to day, pining, it was said, with secret grief, the cause of which she refused to discover, even to her father; but it soon came out, for Death hastened to her relief, and she died a mother: a premature mother, it is true, and her infant was buried in the same grave with its ill-used broken-hearted, youthful parent.

Hitherto, mental suffering had never been a long guest with our hero; but now, in proportion to his affection for the departed fair one, was his remorse, his self-accusing reflections for his neglect of the fond heart he had won, and the ruin he had brought on one whom he had found so happy. He became ill, and incapable of pursuing his journey the next day, when Wat left him, expressing a hope that he would soon be able to overtake him, that they might enter London together.

He remained three days at Hungerford before he was sufficiently recovered to pursue his journey; at the end of which time, being still at a loss for a horse, on enquiring for an animal of a humble description, he was directed to an old pedlar, who had failed to dispose of a wretched thing of his at the fair. On going with him down a green lane where he had left it grazing, he was not a little surprized to find the creature offered to him for sale to be no other than his own mountain pony, left in exchange with the highwayman, having on its back the identical pack-saddle, in which he had formerly concealed his money. Too depressed in spirits to enter into any detail on the subject, having merely learnt that the pedlar had taken it in exchange for goods from a traveller, Twm purchased both pony and pack-saddle for the small sum of twelve shillings, and immediately set off on his journey.

Alive to the importance of the trust reposed in him, and the danger he ran of being robbed, these considerations had the effect of dissipating his melancholy, and setting him somewhat on his mettle. Well for him it was, that he could so rouse his dormant energies, for by the time that he was within ten miles of Reading, in Berkshire, anxiously hoping to reach it without disaster, the sudden discharge of a pistol, close to his ear, convinced him he was in the centre of danger. Instantly a horseman well mounted rode fiercely down a lane that entered the road, and ordered him to stop and deliver in one minute, or have his brains scattered on the hedge beside him.

Our hero's presence of mind never forsook him, and now stood his friend in an especial manner. a.s.suming an air of clownish simplicity, he replied, "Laud bless ye master, I ha gotten nothing to deliver, but an old testament, a crooked sixpence, and a broken fish-hook, and-and-"

"And what, you prevaricating young scoundrel!" roared the highwayman, "why this purse," continued Twm, "which uncle Timothy gave I to market for him and pay his bills at Reading to-morrow;" producing at the same time, an old stocking, which he had stuffed with old nails and c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.ls, in order to make a jingle. The robber made a grasp at the supposed well-stocked purse, which Twm dexterously evaded, and flung the purse over the hedge into the adjoining field, and riding on, while the former instantly alighted, bl.u.s.tering out a fund of oaths and bullying threats, as he made his way to the field to search for the coveted treasure.

Aware that on his poor pony he could not but be soon overtaken, and perhaps shot, by the disappointed freebooter, Twm felt that a daring act requiring the firmest resolution was to be instantly performed to ensure his safety, and proceeded immediately to its achievement. The knight of the road, when he alighted, threw his bridle over a hedgestake; Twm abandoning his pony for the second time, watched the robber into the field, crawled along the ditch till he reached his horse, which he instantly seized by the bridle, mounted and rode off in a hot gallop, till he got safe into the ancient town of Reading, as the clear-toned bells of St. Lawrence were chiming their last evening peal.

CHAP. XXII.

Twm becomes a pedestrian. Adventures of Wat the mole-catcher. The Cardiganshire la.s.ses. Tragic relation. Stalking Simon murdered. Twm is stopped by a footpad, whom he out-generals and shoots. Arrives in London.

TWM was not so fortunate with this steed as the former, which, being white, and otherwise very remarkable, he had the precaution to have cried next morning, when a wealthy attorney of Reading came forward and claimed it. On hearing Twm's story, he very handsomely made him a present of ten pounds, partly in consideration of the loss of his own beast, which he had sustained by the adventure.

Being now within eight-and-thirty miles of London, he resolved to throw off his rustic disguise, and walk the rest of his journey. Accordingly, he bought a neat suit of clothes at Reading, in which he concealed his money and a pair of small pocket pistols; and thus provided, he resumed his journey to the metropolis. Having gone twelve miles further, which brought him to Maidenhead, the first person that he met in the street was Wat the mole-catcher, who had sold his pigs to great advantage to a London dealer; and was now sauntering about from tavern to tavern, spending money that was not his own. Twm at first thought of commissioning him to be the bearer of some cash to his mother, but soon found sufficient reason for banishing such an idea. On asking him when he intended to return to Tregaron, the mole-catcher with strong emphasis exclaimed "never!" adding that he had made the place too hot ever to hold him again. On being pressed to relate his adventures since our hero left him at Tregaron, he ran them over in the following off hand strain.

"When you were a child, Twm, I was a merry happy lad; and you know, had the reputation as the _funny fellow_ of Tregaron, a distinction that it was my highest ambition to attain. The comical tricks and humorous sayings of Wat the mole-catcher, made mirth at every farmer's hearth, and their tables were spread with food for me whenever I called. As I grew older, my pleasures and antipathies acquired a stronger cast; and there were but few in our adjoining parishes who were subject either to execration or ridicule, but dreaded my satire and exposure. I formed attachments more than once among the daughters of the farmers whom I had frequently entertained at the social evening hearth; but although my jests were relished, my overtures were rejected. In short, I found that while mirth, innocence, and harmless wit were my companions, parents generally disposed of their daughters to young men of characters directly opposed to mine-the stupidly grave, and knavish. My eyes were at length opened; and I found that the _funny man_ however amusing as an acquaintance, was by none as coveted as a relative, but considered as a merry unthrift, a mere diverting vagabond at best. Well, thought I, as I saw the world in the nakedness of its opinion, this will never do, but since gravity is the order of the day, I will be grave and roguish as the most successful of my fellow men. Having once come to this conclusion, I studied knavery, that is to say, thrifty rascality, like a science. You had a specimen of my skill when you played me that pretty trick that lost me the parish clerkship, and the fair hand of Bessy Gwevel-hir. As a first step I went immediately to my grandmother, who had often exhorted me to quit my sinful mirth and become serious, when I a.s.sured her of my conversion, in token of which, I threw myself on my knees, and entreated her blessing. She afterwards took me to a puritanic chapel, and in that a.s.sembly, where I had often pinned the skirts and gown-tails of the elect together, the poor old doting soul in the pride of her heart exhibited her young convert to the gaze of the saints; but neglected to inform them that I had robbed her that same evening, of half the contents of her pocket, as she lay asleep. I was not long in discovering that a sedate aspect was a goodly mask for the most profitable villainy, and therefore determined to wear it for life. Laughter, jest, and mirthful humour, and all those thriftless indications of the light and harmless heart, I abjured forever. I now gave a respite to the rats and moles, and set up as a butcher at Tregaron; and for one sheep that I bought of the farmers, I stole three, and slaughtered them either by moonlight on the hills, or by candle in my own cottage. Although I daily bettered my condition, I considered this but a slow and creeping course to thrift; and therefore, as conscience no longer stood in my way, I meditated some bolder way of leaping into property at once. You know that wrinkled old she-usurer of Tregaron, Rachel Ketch; in the bitterness of my heart, after losing all hope of a fair girl, whom I had long doated on, I went to the old Jezebel and sought her hand in marriage; aye, and would have taken her were she ten times as loathsome, in the anxious hope of her speedy death and of succeeding to her golden h.o.a.rds. I strove to recommend myself by a.s.suring her I was the most finished scoundrel in existence; and that when gain was my object, theft, perjury, and even murder, however hideous to silly innocents, had no power to scare me from my pursuit. This avowal of my n.o.ble qualifications I thought would have won her heart forever, but I was mistaken. The keen-eyed hag, who never was seen to smile before, laughed outright at my proposal. 'What, you want the old woman's gold, master cut-throat of the muttons, do you? to cut her throat also, and make away with her in a month after marriage, like a troublesome old ewe!' screamed she, as her spiteful broken snags grinned defiance, and her shrill tones broke out in laughs of mockery. I never saw mirth so d.a.m.nable before! I felt myself the b.u.t.t of her ridicule, humbled and degraded; and as my anger rose against the beldame, I resolved that since I could not wed her, to rob her would answer my purpose full as well. An opportunity was not long wanting; the little boys who had formerly been my favorites, and who in their innocence failed to recognize my altered character, I found it difficult to drive from me. A neighbour's child one day asked me to lift him up to Rachel Ketch's thatch, to take from it a wren's nest which he had long watched, and said he was sure that the young ones were on the eve of flying. It was a winning little urchin that made the request, and I could not refuse him. The moment that I had raised him to a standing posture on my shoulders, he eagerly thrust his little hand into the thatch, and cried, 'Dear dear, how cold!' when a snake which he had felt, that had destroyed the young birds, and coiled itself round in the nest, darted out in his face, and the youngster shrieked and fainted in my arms. I carried him home, where he soon died of the fright, for it appeared he was not stung.

I suspected there was a nest of those detestable reptiles in the old rotten straw thatch, and therefore poked it in all directions with a long hooked stick, and at last felt something attached to it; as I drew it forward and examined it, to my great astonishment I found it to be an old woollen stocking, closely stuffed with various golden coins. Here was a discovery! I felt myself a made man forever! The old woman was at this time in Carmarthenshire, where she had gone to enforce her claims to certain debts among her former neighbours; and therefore having no fear of detection, I pushed back the golden prize and went away, intending to return for it at night. As I anxiously watched the hours and minutes pa.s.s away, reflecting the while on my newly-acquired wealth, a raging savage spirit of avarice so possessed me, that I determined to plunder old Rachel's cottage of all the money I could find. Night came, and with breathless haste I made an entrance through the thatch on the side furthest from the street, and at midnight went away with a heavy booty, the greater part of which, I buried beneath the floor of my own cottage, determined to seek the first opportunity of quitting Tregaron forever.

Fortune seemed to favor me beyond my hopes; Squire Gras.p.a.cre having a numerous herd of unusually fine hogs, engaged me to drive them to England and sell them at a good price; I have done so, and pocketted the cash, not one farthing of which will the squire ever handle. To relate all my rogueries since I became a grave man would take too much of your time, so here ends my story."

Twm's observations on this remarkable narrative were very brief. "I know my own numerous faults too well to blame you highly for anything you have done, except robbing the poor helpless old woman: that was a villainous affair Wat, and will not stand the test of my friend Rhys's n.o.ble precept-_War not with the weak_. I have a mother, Wat, who is also an old woman, and who but a dastardly villain could ever think of robbing her." "Very true," replied Wat, "but she whom I plundered was a _rich_ old woman; and to steal from her who had robbed hundreds by her over-reaching usury will never lie much on my conscience. Perhaps in time I may form a plan to recover the cash buried under my cottage floor; if not, I can make myself very happy with what I already have, in addition to the squire's pig-money; so that I shall be quite safe and unmolested in England, and while I have money, n.o.body will dare to question my respectability."

At this moment, a party of Cardiganshire la.s.ses, who were making their annual journey to weed the gardens in the neighbourhood of London, pa.s.sed opposite the tavern door, where our worthies were sitting; Twm recognized two Tregaron girls, and called to them by name, when they all went up together. The two rural damsels were right glad to see their long lost countryman; Twm Shon Catti, but their reception of Wat was very different, as it amounted to terror and abhorrence. They said he was charged not only with the robbery of Rachel Ketch's cottage, but with murder; that the constables were out to search for him in all quarters, and that Squire Gras.p.a.cre had sent out a man to supersede Wat in the care of his pigs.

Here Wat's spirit of bravado entirely deserted him, and evident terror was depicted in his countenance, while his emotion was too great to make any remark on the information given by the girls.

After Twm had treated all the maidens with bread and cheese and ale, and dismissed them on their journey, Wat, in great agony of mind, exclaimed, "Oh G.o.d, where shall I fly! all my supposed security I find but a dream, and misery alone awaits me. When I told you the tale of my enormities, I kept back the relation of one crime, a dreadful one! which, lost as I am, I felt averse to acknowledge, and too heart-smote with the consciousness of its atrocity, to turn to it my most secret thought-'twas a deed of blood, the crime of murder. You remember a tall, thin, skeleton-like man, generally dressed in an entire suit of grey, who lived in a cottage on the mountain, in the neighbourhood of Tregaron, known by the nick-name of Stalking Simon the Moon-calf. This man was known to be a spy employed and paid by all the neighbouring farmers. His habits were, to sleep all day, and to spend the night on the hills, watching to identify the hedge-pluckers and sheep-stealers. Many poor persons who depended on their nightly excursions, for fuel, while they deemed themselves un.o.bserved of any human being, cutting down a tree, or drawing dry wood from an old hedge, would suddenly find themselves in the presence of Stalking Simon. So instantaneous was his appearance, as to startle his victims with the idea of an apparition suddenly sprung up through the ground, as his approach was never seen till close upon them. ''Tis only me, neighbour,' would be the hypocrite's reply, 'searching for my stray pony:' but when two persons had been executed, and three transported, on his evidence, the nature of his employment became known, and he was execrated by the whole country. One moonlight night, as I was skinning a fine stolen wether, which I had suspended and spread out on an old storm-beaten thorn, in a field adjoining the mountain, easy in mind, and so fearless of danger that I whistled in a half-hushed manner, as I followed my illicit occupation, a circ.u.mstance took place that wrought a violent change in the tone of my mind. My thoughts ran on the whimsicality of the idea of selling a portion of this very mutton to the rightful owner, on the morrow, which was market day, and laughing inwardly at the thought; all at once, Stalking Simon, with a single stride, moved from behind a mossy elm, grey as his own suit, and stood before me. My blood curdled with the sudden transition from mirth to terror; but when the stone-hearted wretch made the old Judas-like reply, 'It is only me neighbour, searching for my stray pony,' I knew the amount of my danger, and my terror changed to savage ferocity against the vile informer who had ruined so many of my friends and neighbours. In the fever of my hatred I darted on him, grasped his collar with one hand, and with the other stabbed him to the heart."

Thus ended Wat's relation, when he again exclaimed "Oh G.o.d where shall I fly? I cannot return, for that road leads straight to the gallows, and in London I should be in hourly danger of being seen by somebody from the country. Since the perpetration of this deed of blood I have not known an hour's peace, save in the madness of the intoxicating cup. Heaven is my witness, I could be content with slavery, and smile beneath the man-driver's whip-could strip myself and wander the world in nakedness, or herd with beasts, to regain my former peace and innocence! Oh, I could labour till my bones ached, and my exhausted body dropped to the earth with fatigue, to be once more free from the keen stings of a guilty conscience."

Wat was now a figure of the most heart-torn remorse; his reddened eyes were tearless, and seemed burning in their sockets; while large drops of sweat rolled down his sun-burnt cheeks, and his whole countenance exhibited the most intense agony. In such an hour as this, Twm was no comforter, although he was much affected, but merely listened in silence.

A grey-coated man now approaching the tavern, brought dreadful a.s.sociations to Wat's terrified conscience, and in the utmost trepidation he darted out at the back door of the inn, and ran across the fields with the speed of a pursued murderer.

Our hero, now a pedestrian, hurried off on his journey, determined to make up for the time lost at Maidenhead, by walking at a spirited pace; and without stopping a moment, he pa.s.sed through Langley, Broom, and Colnbrook, hoping to reach Hounslow at least that night. He had travelled unimpeded till within two miles of the last named town, when he met a long-bearded man, who might have pa.s.sed for the high priest of a Jewish synagogue. Twm stared at him with surprize, but pa.s.sed on a few steps, when he heard the other at his heels; and turning round, he found him with a pistol aimed at his head, as he called out in the true slang of the road, "Your money or your life."

Our hero, having now met a few rencontres of this kind, had lost his terror of them; he answered in a submissive style, declaring that he had no money of his own to resign, but it was true he had a considerable sum of his master's: "I don't see," quoth he, "why I should lose or risk my life for any master's service, though I should like it may appear that I made some resistance before I resigned his property; and therefore if you first fire your pistol through the lapel of my coat, you shall have all;"

when the footpad immediately did as requested. "Now," quoth Twm again, "another shot through the skirt on the other side." "Very true," replied the thief, and fired his other pistol as directed. "And now, for a finish," said Twm, "before I give up to you this large sum, just fire a shot through my hat," laying it down on the ground as he spoke. "I have no more shot," cried the robber. "But I have!" exclaimed our hero, triumphantly, producing a pistol, "the contents of this you must take instead of the money I spoke of-a just reward for a shallow knave, whose length of beard is greater than of brains:" at which words, perceiving that the bearded thief aimed to escape, he fired his pistol and shot him dead. Tearing his false beard off, he bore it away as a trophy, and hastened onward.

Being now, as he was previously informed, in the very republic of highwaymen and foodpads, our hero, though greatly fatigued, resolved not to spend the night at Hounslow, but persevere in his route and go the additional nine miles, which would bring him to the great metropolis, and his journey's end, before he rested. It was near one o'clock, when at length after many inquiries among the Watchmen, he found out the Bull and Gate inn, Holborn; where with blistered feet and sadly fatigued body, he joyfully took his supper and ordered his bed. Who but a pedestrian could enter into his feelings!

CHAP. XXIII.

Twm's return to Wales. The death of Sir George Devereux. The loves of Twm Shon Catti and the lady of Ystrad Fin. Their joys converted into sorrows. Their parting.

IT was soon known at Ystrad Fin that our hero had fulfilled his commission by delivering the money with which he was intrusted, at the place of its destination; and great anxiety was expressed by Sir George and his lady for his return to Wales. The baronet, however, was not destined to put his benevolent intentions in his favor into execution, for, about two months after Twm's departure, on riding home an ill-broken horse, which he had purchased at Brecon, he was thrown, and killed by the fall. His widow, of course, appeared in weeds; but as the last like her former union with the high pedigreed Thomas ap Rhys ap William Thomas Goch, the former proprietor of Ystrad Fin, was a marriage of interest planned by her father, Sir John Price, of the Priory, Brecon, it was thought her grief on the occasion was not excessive: at least, such appeared to be the general opinion among the gallants of Brecon, many of whom waited anxiously for the throwing off of her mourning, to declare themselves candidates for her heart and hand.

Month after month pa.s.sed away without Twm's return; and when a whole year had run its course, the lady of Ystrad Fin, who had frequently expressed her alarms for his safety, at length concluded that he certainly was no longer on the records of the living. The young widow speaking of him one day to a female friend, described him as very beautiful of person, and one who deserved the favors of fortune; the greatest of which, in her estimation, would be his acquirement of rank and station by marriage-by an union with a liberal fair, who could overlook his humbleness of birth in consideration of his personal merit. "But the generous young man,"

said she, while the tears started in her fine eyes, "is doubtless dead.

I feel for him as an amiable unfriended stranger who deserved a better fate than to die in obscurity, as Nature had formed him for distinction, if not renown."

The conversation then changed, when the widow's fair friend jocularly alluded to the probability of her again doffing her weeds for bridal robes. "Never!" exclaimed Lady Devereux, "twice have I been a wife and widow, and can safely a.s.sert that, love never had a share in the disposal of my hand. Twice have I been bartered to suit the capricious views and family pride of a father; but were it possible for me to utter 'love, honor, and obey,' again, within sacred walls, it should be to one whom I love indeed-love, honor, and obey!-and not to the contemporary of my grandfather, or my father's schoolfellow."

It was about two months after this conversation took place, that our hero appeared, well mounted on a goodly steed, and entered the court yard of Ystrad Fin. In a moment, the circ.u.mstance was told to Lady Devereux, who almost leaped from her seat, and hurried to meet him, as he reached the entrance of the hall. Twm had heard of the decease of Sir George, and prepared himself with the tone and manner of a condoler, but found it quite unnecessary when he noticed the brisk advance and gay countenance of the handsome widow. "My dear Mr. Jones, welcome, most welcome, back to Wales, and trebly welcome to me and the lonely walls of Ystrad Fin!"

was her first salutation, as with her natural cordiality she stretched out her right hand, which our hero eagerly seized, ardently pressed, and held to his lips. She was not long in discovering the change for the better which had taken place in his address; his former ungainly diffidence and indecision of manner being supplanted by easy confidence, supported by high animal spirits.

The widow, in conversing with her friend Miss Meredith, declared herself delighted with him, and our hero appeared no less pleased with the lady.

At her invitation, he became an inmate of the house, until, as she said, he could put himself to rights. The sum of money left to her care, was delivered up to him with considerable additions, in return for his services by the journey to London, and from her own private bounty.

When the youth, beauty, and frank good nature of the lady are taken into account, it will be no matter of surprize that our hero was soon very deeply infatuated with the lady of Ystrad Fin; or that he should, agreeably to his matured character, very energetically protest himself her sincere admirer, friend, and even lover! If the lady chided him, it was with that gentleness that seemed to say, "Pray do so again." If she turned aside her head to conceal her blushes, smiles ever accompanied them, in coming and retreating; or if she frowned, it was so equivocally, that for the life of him, our hero could not help considering each transient bend of the brow as so many invitations to kiss them away, which the gallant Twm never failed to accept and obey. These golden days were too rich in delight to last long. As the _good-natured and most virtuous world_ discovered that they were very happy and pleased with each other, it breathed forth its malignant spirit, and doubted whether they had a legitimate right to be so; of course deciding that they had not, and consequently awarding to the lovers the pains and penalties of persecution and mutual banishment. When they had become, for some time, undivided companions, and walked, rode, danced at Brecon b.a.l.l.s, and resided under the same roof together, although under the strict guidance of moral propriety, as daily witnessed by the lady's female friends: it will be no wonder that scandal at last became busy with the lady's fame.

An additional incentive for raising these evil reports was, that she had rejected the attentions of several of the rural n.o.bles, who had endeavoured to recommend themselves to her good graces. All at once, like the inmates of a hornet's nest, the various members of her family, the proud Prices of Breconshire, buzzed about her ears, and stung her with their reproaches. She bore all with determined patience, until a.s.sured that her fame had been vilified, and that she had been described as living a life of profligacy and dishonour. Conscious of rect.i.tude, however indiscreet she might have been, the haughtiness of her spirit now rose, as she indignantly repelled the infamous charges; in the end, requesting her _dear friends and relatives_ to dismiss their tender fears for her reputation, and keep to their own domains for the future, or at least not trouble hers.

Notwithstanding this rough reception of her generous advisers, and reporters of the world's slanders, others came, almost daily, buzzing still the same tale, till at length tired and wore down in spirits, she consented to send away her deliverer and friend, as she called him, from the protection of her roof. Our hero, however, could never be brought to distinguish between her real kind feelings towards him, and the constrained appearance which her altered conduct made in his sight. Free as the air, as he felt himself, he could not understand why a great and wealthy lady could not at least be equally unshackled and independent.

Explanations and excuses were entirely thrown away upon him, as he could not, or would not, understand aught so opposed to his happiness and preconceived notions. When at length it was made known to him that the separation was inevitable, and the season of it arrived, he received the astounding intelligence like a severe blow of fortune, that struck him at once both sorrowful and meditative. Pride and resentment, from a sense of injury, at last supplanted every other feeling; and, starting up with a frenzied effort, he ordered his horse to be got ready, and gave directions for his things to be forwarded to Llandovery; after which he wrote a note, and sent it to the lady's room, requesting a momentary interview with her alone, before he took his departure. She came down with a slow languid step, and met him in the parlour. Her eyes were red with weeping; and before she could utter a syllable, our hero's much altered looks affected her so much, that she burst out into heavy sobbing. "Do not think hardly-do not feel unkindly towards me, Jones,"

were her first words; "I entreat you to give me the credit due to my sincerity, when I a.s.sure you that the sacrifice I made on consenting to part with you, was-yes! although I have buried two husbands who loved me tenderly, it was the heaviest of my life." Twm replied in a tone and manner that evinced both his pride and sufferings: "I have but few words, madam, and they shall not long intrude upon your leisure. I came here a stranger, and had some trifling claims, perhaps, on your attention.-Those claims have been more than satisfied-n.o.ble has been your remuneration of my humble services, your beneficence generous and princely. A change took place in your destiny; you honoured me beyond my merits, and bade me stand to the world in a new character. You called me friend, your sole true friend in a faithless world.-Nay, lady, your lover. I loved, and love you, with a pure but unconquerable flame. Blame me not if I am presumptuous-it was your own condescension, your own encouragement, that made me so, and elevated me to a stand of equality with yourself. You gave me hopes to be the future, the only husband of your choice. You stretched forth your hand to aid my efforts, as I eagerly climbed towards the darling object of my aim; but before I attained the summit, you, madam, in a spirit of caprice or treachery, dashed me headlong downward, to perish in despair. Your great and wealthy friends will praise you for this, while mincing madams and insipid misses shall learn a n.o.ble lesson by your conduct, and emulating you, become in their day as arrant coquettes and tramplers on manly hearts, as their more limited powers and vanity will permit. But enough! you shall have your generous triumph,-and from this hour I tread the world without an aim, a wanderer in a wilderness, reckless of all that can either better or worsen my state in life. Advancement, estimation, the pride of generous and applauded deeds, I here abjure; nor from this hour would I raise my hand to save from annihilation the being I am-for life is henceforth hateful to me. Lady, farewell-never will I cross your path; but you may hear of my wayward steps,-and if in me you are told of a wretched idiot, a being whose mind had perished while his frame was strong, let it strike strongly to your heart that it was yourself that wrought that mental desolation. Or if they name me as a lawless being, plunged headlong into deeds of guilt and madness, remember it is you, you, madam! you are the auth.o.r.ess of my crimes and sorrows, and may be, of an ignominious death to follow my career of guilt. And now madam, farewell indeed!" On which he darted out, mounted his horse, and rode off; while the unhappy lady of Ystrad Fin, whose agitation choked the utterance of replies, caught a last glimpse of him, and fell on the parlour floor in a swoon.

CHAP. XXIV.

Twm's eccentricities. His rural adventures with the two sheep, the white ox, and the grey horse. Teaches the farmer how to pound the squire's trespa.s.sing pigeons.

WHEN our hero arrived at Llandovery, his sorrows were augmented on learning that his faithful friend Rhys the curate was no longer to be his comforter, though much needed under his present mental depression; it was no small satisfaction to him, however, to be informed that he had been inducted into a good living in a distant part of the princ.i.p.ality. The life he led at Llandovery, although lodging at an inn, was, for some days, that of a solitary; _days_! alas for the consistency of the lover,-days, we repeat, and not weeks or months, much less years, of seclusion from his kind. He soon ill.u.s.trated the Shakspearian adage, "Men have died, and worms have eaten them, but not for love." But by him every thing was to done by strokes of boldness; to banish his cares, he plunged at once into intemperance; and from merely tolerating a little cheerful company, he entered the society of the greatest topers and madcaps to be found, till he emulated and outdid the highest, and became the very prince of wags and practical jokers. He was, of course, recognized as the capturer of the tremendous highwayman Dio the Devil, and the acknowledged preserver of the lady of Ystrad Fin, which, with his relations of many freaks and vagaries in England, together with the a.s.sured fact that he had been once in London, and spent a year there, gained him no inconsiderable share of celebrity. One day, while the landlord of the Owen Glendower inn was trumpeting forth the humorous fame of his lodger, among a parlour full of country squires, who were dining together, after the business of Quarter Sessions was over; a merry magistrate named Prothero said, that he was certain he had a servant, a shrewd fellow, whose wits never slumbered, whom he would back in a bet against the vaunted cleverness of Twm Shon Catti, in any feat of dexterity that could be named. To come to the point, he said, he would lay a wager of five pounds that Twm could not steal a sheep from shrewd Roger, his ploughman, who the next morning should carry one to the village of Llangattock. Twm was sent for; and being invited to sit among these rural n.o.bles, appeared as complete a high fellow as the best of them. Without the least hesitation, he accepted Mr. Prothero's wager, and deposited five pounds with the landlord, as the merry magistrate had already done. Early the next morning shrewd Roger rose, and shouldered his sheep, vowing before his grinning fellow-servants, who grouped round to crack their jests on him, that the wild devil himself should not deprive him of his burthen. As he proceeded along a part of the high road, up a slight ascent, he discovered with surprise, a good leathern shoe lying in the mud. A shoe of leather, be it known, in a country where wooden clogs are generally worn, is no despicable prize. The shrewd servant looked at the object before him with a longing eye; but reflecting that one shoe, however good, was useless unmatched with a fellow, spared himself the trouble of stooping, for troublesome it would have been with such a weight on his shoulders, and pa.s.sed on without lifting it. On walking a little further, and pursuing a bend in the road, great was his surprise on finding another shoe, a fellow to the former, lying in the sledge-mark, which, like the rut of a wheel, indented the mud with hollow stripes. In the height of his joy he laid down the sheep, with its legs tied, beside the shoe, and ran back for the other; when Twm Shon Catti, watching his opportunity, sprang over the hedge, and seized his prize, which he bore off securely, won his bet, and ate his mutton undisturbed.