Fled are the fairy views of hill and dale;
Sublimely throned on the steep mountain brow.
Stern nature frowns: her desolating rage
Driving the whirlwind, or swoln flood, or blast
Of fiery air imprisoned, from their base
Has wildly hurled the uplifted rocks around
The gloomy pass, where Aberglaslyn’s arch
Yawns o’er the torrent. The disjointed crags
O’er the steep precipice in fragments vast
Impending, to the astonished mind recall
The fabled horrors by demoniac force
Of Lapland wizards wrought; who, borne upon
The whirlwind’s wing, what time the vexÈd sea
Dashed ’gainst Norwegia’s cliffs, to solid mass
Turned the swoln billows, and the o’erhanging waves
Fixed e’er they fell.

CHAPTER I.
SHADE AND LIGHT—SORROW—BUT HOPE IN SORROW.

In the enchanting vale below Pont Aberglaslyn there stood, many many years ago, a small villa, which at the time of which we write was covered over with ivy. Surrounding this beautiful rural retreat were gardens and pleasure grounds, which were designed and laid out with great artistic taste and skill in the arrangement of walks, shrubs, rose-trees, flowers, and evergreens.

At the time our story commences, the villa was occupied by a gentleman whose family had seen better days; but, through the prodigality of ancestors and the vast sums they had squandered in horse-racing, cock-fighting, and gambling, the rent-roll of their estate which approached £12,000 a year, now scarcely reached a hundredth part of that sum after the interest had been paid. Indeed, when the then owner came into possession of his patrimony on the death of his father, his net income barely reached £6 a week. On discovering his pecuniary position, he felt he could no longer afford to occupy the family mansion, and like a wise man he prudently resolved to leave it, and remove to the villa we have already described. During the residence of the family at the old Hall, Mrs. Wynn—that being the name of the family—left her household affairs to her servants, who unfortunately paid but little regard to domestic economy. However, when she took up her residence in her new abode she wisely undertook the chief management of her household; while Mr. Wynn devoted his time to the cultivation of the garden and superintending the education of his son and daughter. Both proved apt learners; what they learned they remembered. Whatever book they read, they retained its contents in their singularly retentive memories. In pursuing their studies, fortunately they had this great advantage in their favour,—namely, that their parent was a ripe scholar and an eminent man of letters, while as a teacher he possessed abilities of the highest order. Having such an instructor, no wonder his beloved pupils made such rapid progress. After teaching them thoroughly the rudiments, Mr. Wynn led on his children step by step to higher grounds; but in all his lessons he sought to instil into their young minds a strong and passionate desire, a longing thirst, for knowledge, the possession of which had afforded him some of the happiest and the most pleasurable hours of his life. Thus occupied, year after year came and rolled by, and each revolving year brought increased happiness to the little family of the villa. Truly did they live in each other’s love.

When their son Cadwgan had attained his fifteenth year, his sister Gwenfan being two years younger, their father was on one Saturday called away to the ancient town of Carnarvon, in order to transact some special business with the family solicitor. When he left home in the morning he promised to return the same evening, but though his wife and children waited his return until midnight, he came not. At last, sick and weary at heart, they retired to rest; but during the remainder of the night they were not roused by his well-known knock at the hall-door. Early on the ensuing Sabbath morning, a special messenger arrived at the villa from Carnarvon, with the sorrowful intelligence that Squire Wynn had been seized with a virulent attack of small-pox, a disease which was then fearfully raging in the town and neighbourhood, and the messenger urged Mrs. Wynn to hasten to the bedside of her husband, if she desired to see him alive. With an aching heart she kissed and bade adieu to her son and daughter, and hastened to the bedside of the almost lifeless form of him who had ever been the light of her eyes and the joy of her heart. She saw at the first glance that the hour of his departure had come. She threw herself on the bed by his side, when he tenderly embraced her, saying, “Heaven bless you, my angel!” and then pointing his finger upwards, “Meet me there, and bring our dear ones with you.” He then heaved a deep sigh, and his spirit took its flight to the gwlad well (the better land). Before that day’s sun had descended into the western sea, Mrs. Wynn was attacked with the same fatal malady; and before the dawn of the following morning, her gentle and loving spirit had fled its earthly tabernacle for the land of eternal and ethereal joy. Thus were their children bereft of both father and mother in a single day, and before they were made acquainted with the terrible loss they had sustained, the forms they loved so well had been placed in the same tomb.

To the children the Monday and Tuesday following were days of anxious thought. No tidings had reached them of the sad event that had happened. It was late on Tuesday evening that a kind friend arrived from the solicitor bringing the sad intelligence of their parents’ decease. They were overwhelmed with sorrow on account of their loss. Days and days elapsed before they could realize their position. At last they were painfully impressed with the fact that they were alone in the world. No loving word now, in welcome and joyous voice, greeted them on entering their home. The arm-chair in which their father sat evening after evening, when he was used to tell them tales of years that had gone, and the couch on which their mother reclined before retiring to her bedroom, were both unoccupied. The sudden death of both, taken in connection with the responsibilities of the present and their anxieties pertaining to the future, nearly broke their young and tender hearts. But they sorrowed not as those who had no hope. From childhood they had been taught to love the dear Name which is above every name, and confident of His favour, and with full reliance on the promise that He would be a father to the fatherless, their gentle spirits became calm and peaceful. Moreover, they looked forward to a bright immortality, when they would join those whom their souls loved. Thus, as day after day came and departed, they became more resigned to their lot. Their griefs were assuaged by night voices from the world above. Often, in the evening twilight, they heard whispers from the spirits of the dear departed ones. And the spirits said, after a few more years of toil, of labour, of sorrow, of anxiety and trouble, you will come up hither, and then you shall mingle your voices with ours, in praising Him, who has washed us from our sins in His own blood. That day there will be a joyous reunion in this spirit world where parting is no more.

“Is not this a lovely April morning?” remarked Cadwgan to his sister, as they walked hand-in-hand across the lawn.

“It is, indeed, a most lovely morning, brother. And is not the scene around most enchanting?”

“You, Gwenfan, have always been a great admirer of the spring.”

“And you, dear Cadwgan, have been its enthusiastic admirer.”

“I have loved it, my dear sister, because it is the season of the year when nature puts on its most joyous apparel. The trees and flowers, the hedgerows and forests, the cornfields and meads, all all are decked in their green robes. When spring comes, after the deathlike appearance of winter with its cold and chilling air, nature springs into new life; the trees send forth their green leaves, the rose its blossom, the meadows put on their usual dress, and Nature appears to say to all, Come, come, and behold my triumphant resurrection from the death of winter.”

“And does not the animal creation, my brother, participate in the glories of spring?”

“Sister, oh, do listen to the joyous melody of the skylark, and see, see how he mounts higher and higher, and sings as he ascends! From yon thorny bush don’t you hear the blackbird’s sweet notes? while the mellow bullfinch answers those notes from yonder sylvan grove.”

“It is love, my dearest brother, that creates this music; all this waste of melody is the heavenly voice of sweetest love.”

“Don’t say, my dear sister, that this melody is wasted. Music is never wasted when there are people listening to its soothing and joyous strains.”

“But people, Cadwgan, do not always give ear to the charming voices of these winged songsters. And are there not hundreds, and perhaps thousands, who fail to appreciate, who are never moved by, their enchanting notes?”

“That there are persons, my wise sister, who listen unmoved to the melody of birds, I would be the last to deny; but is there not an equally large number of persons who see no beauty in verdant glades, in the bubbling crystal fountain, in the rippling streamlet, and in the flowers as they open their petals to draw in the morning dewdrop?”

“As you have referred to flowers, come, dear Cadwgan, and look at my smiling blushing roses. Oh, they look so lovely! Exquisitely beautiful are they, and their perfume fills the morning air with the most delicious fragrance.”

“They are, my dear Gwenfan, most beautiful; but pray tell me the secret of your success in training them to so great a perfection.”

“That I can explain in a few words. I have nursed them well. I have paid them as much attention as I have paid to my birds, and I love them almost as much,—don’t I, pretty, smiling, blushing roses?”

“It will be hard for you to part with this lovely dwelling, won’t it, Gwenfan; especially as it is endeared to us by so many happy and hallowed associations?”

“But we shan’t leave here, brother; shall we?”

“I am afraid we shall be obliged to do so, sister.”

“I am so sorry to hear you say so.”

“I am sorry too, to break the news to you. The thought of leaving our dear home almost breaks my heart.”

“I had hoped, Cadwgan, never to say adieu to the abode of our beloved parents, though the void created by our sad bereavement can never be filled up. But, if we must leave, whither shall we go?”

“At present, my darling sister, I know not where we shall have to pitch our tent; but our heavenly Father, in His good providence, will, if we trust Him, provide for us a shelter.”“I do love and trust Him, my dear brother; but, oh, at this moment, the future appears to me dark and beamless. I fail to see even a fringe of the cloud with a silver lining.”

“But if we look to the light, our future may still be bright and joyous; as will be the appearance of yonder vale when the dark cloud you see up there passes away. In a few minutes this sylvan dell will be lighted up by the golden beams of the morning sun.”

“Look, brother, look! The cloud is rapidly moving on its journey. The rays of the king of day will soon fall upon and penetrate both woodland and brake, warming and cheering the dwellers in mossy beds and grassy mounds, imparting hope and joy to all.”

“So may it be with us, dear Gwenfan. When we least expect aid from on high, that aid comes, and at once the darkness and gloom are chased away.”

But here his sister called her brother’s attention to a lady driving a pony carriage. “I declare,” she said, “the lady is coming to the villa. See! see! her servant has opened the entrance gate at the bottom of the lawn. Oh, who can she be? Do you expect any one to visit us, brother?”

“I expect no one, but hope that she may be a messenger of good, not of evil; a harbinger of comfort, and not the bearer of bad tidings and thus increase our affliction and sorrow. Our cup of grief is already full and overflowing.”

As the carriage approached nearer to the villa, the children saw that its occupant was clad in deep mourning, and that she resembled some one whom they well knew, but whom they could not at the moment recollect. Presently, the carriage was driven up to the door, and the lady inquired of the orphans if the house was called Bryn Villa, and if they were the children of Mr. and Mrs. Wynn.

“I am, madam, their son,” replied Cadwgan, “and this is my sister Gwenfan.”

“May I presume to ask the name of the lady who takes care of you?”“We have no one taking care of us, madam,” replied Gwenfan. “I look after my brother, and he looks after me.”

“But have you no one with you,—no grown up person in charge of the house, and in charge of its management?”

“We have only a maid-servant in the house, ma’am,” answered the brother; “and she has been with us since we were little ones.”

“You are then, my dears, left alone in the world. Unless I have been misinformed, you have lost both parents.”

“Both are dead, ma’am,” answered Gwenfan, weeping; “and neither my brother nor I am aware of having a single relative living.”

“Had not your papa a sister?” inquired the lady.

“We never heard dear papa speak of a sister, or any relative,” answered Cadwgan.

“Dear me, sir, that is certainly very strange; because I happen to know of his having a sister, whom he loved very dearly.”

“Of her, ma’am,” replied the youth, “papa never spoke. I remember hearing him say, he had no one left in the world to care for, except dear mamma and us.”

“For the present we will say no more on the subject. But having driven many a long mile, my dears, since the morning, and still having a long journey before me, I must claim your hospitality for food for my servant and pony.”

“You are heartily welcome, ma’am, to partake of the best our house can afford,” replied the children. “Your servant will perhaps drive the pony into the yard, and he will find there our man servant who will attend to his wants.”

The lady then descended from her phaeton, and was conducted by the children into the house. During the time refreshments were being prepared she made a minute inspection of the parlour. When she had thoroughly surveyed it, and was about to take a rest on the sofa, she saw what appeared to be a picture, but the likeness was shut from view by a curtain of green baize which hung over and covered both the picture and frame. The lady’s curiosity was aroused, but just then she heard the footsteps of the servant and the children in the passage; but before they entered the room, she had succeeded in drawing aside the baize, and had a glimpse of the likeness beneath. When the children entered they perceived that the lady appeared slightly agitated, though, necessarily, they were wholly ignorant of its cause.

During the time she was engaged in partaking of the refreshments which had been provided her, she talked and chatted away on all manner of topics, but studiously avoided making any allusion to herself. She asked the children many questions about people in the neighbourhood, particularly about Mrs. Jones, of the Glen; her sons and daughters, if they were all married, and did they reside in the locality. She specially asked if young Squire Jones were still a bachelor.

The children gave their visitor an account of the several families she inquired for, and informed her that Mr. Jones was still single, that he resided at the Glen, and had succeeded to his uncle’s property, which brought in some £12,000 a year.

* * * * *

“And you never heard, my dears, your papa mentioning relatives either living or dead.”

“Indeed, we don’t recollect our papa making any allusion to relatives, except,” said Cadwgan, “on one occasion, when he said to mamma, ‘I am afraid she is dead; for were she alive she would certainly write to us.’”

“I know, my dears, to whom he referred, and think I can satisfy you that she is not dead, but still lives.”

“Any information, ma’am,” replied the youth, “with which you can furnish us will place us under deep obligations to you.”

“Have you, my dears, ever seen the picture under the green baize?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then you don’t know whose likeness it is?”

“Indeed, ma’am,” replied the brother and sister, “we don’t.”

“Tell me, my dears,”—removing the covering,—“tell me if you have ever seen any one like that portrait.”

For a moment the children hesitated; and after looking first at the portrait and then at the lady, said, “The picture, ma’am, is very like you; or you resemble the portrait.”

“You are quite right, my loves. Your dear papa was my brother, and you, my dears, are my nephew and niece. Come to my arms, and be assured that, as far as I can, I will make up for the loss you have sustained. I will love you deeply, fondly, ardently; and for my brother’s sake, and that of your kind, gentle, and loving mother, who was as dear to me as my dear sister Gwenfan, who was the light and joy of our homes, and for your own sakes, I will be your guide, your friend, your counsellor and stay.”

In a moment the children were locked in the tender and loving embrace of their aunt. They all wept, though their sorrows were mixed with joy. To some extent the discovery thus made relieved the sadness and gloom of the hour. In the hour of gloom, when aid was least expected, a comforter had been found. But upon this scene we must not dwell. Their aunt was a woman of action, and rest with her was impossible until she had thoroughly mastered the children’s affairs. Hence, as soon as she and her pony had had refreshment and an hour’s rest, she, with her niece and nephew, started off for Carnarvon to see the family solicitor, and from that gentleman learnt that the old family estate of the Wynns was mortgaged to its full value, and that the mortgagee had now given notice to foreclose unless the sum borrowed was repaid within a month. “To do this,” said the solicitor, “is, I fear, impossible, because the amount borrowed—£80,000—is so large that in these times there are but few capitalists who have it at their command.” He then gave it as his deliberate opinion that the best thing was for the mortgagee to sell, and if he realized a sum beyond the encumbrance, it might be invested for the joint use of the children.

This advice was acted upon by the aunt and orphans. A few weeks after this conversation, Wynn Castle and its domain and estate were sold by auction, the fortunate purchaser being a London merchant of great wealth, who during the first three years of its possession expended on improvements £20,000.

When the affairs of Wynn Castle were all arranged, Cadwgan resolved to seek his fortune in the wide wide world. His aunt and sister did their best to dissuade him from leaving home, but he turned a deaf ear to their arguments and entreaties. At last they reluctantly acquiesced, and it was finally arranged that his aunt and sister were to remain at the Villa (this house and grounds forming no part of the Wynn Castle estate), the former promising to supply as far as she was able the void which death had created.

CHAPTER III.
THE WIDE WORLD.

It was a beautiful summer morning when Cadwgan departed from the home of his love, the place endeared to him by so many happy associations. The parting scene between him and his sister was most painful. From childhood they had not been separate from each other a single day. Gwenfan’s love for her brother was deep, ardent, and tender. Every want of his she anticipated, while she paid the minutest attention to his feelings, even in small and trivial matters. To part with her only brother was indeed a sore trial; but she now felt she could no longer resist his wishes, though the thought almost broke her heart. Then Cadwgan’s grief was equally intense. He however felt that duty called him away; and somehow there came into his soul a conviction that a day might come when fortune would smile upon him, and on that day his sister would bless him for having forsaken the joys of home with its smiles and sunshine, in obedience to what he regarded as a solemn duty. At last he tore himself away from his sister’s and aunt’s tender and affectionate caresses, leaving the home of his childhood; and before the sun was up, grand old Snowdon, with its circumjacent hills and mountain-tops, had disappeared from his view. However, he lingered not on his journey, but when the last old friend of his youth had disappeared he put on new speed, resolving to arrive at the metropolis of England and the world before the end of the following week.

We shall not attempt to describe the journey and the incidents which occurred by the way. Suffice it to say, that in due course he reached the great city, and during the first few days after his arrival he wandered from street to street, traversing its parks, alleys, and great thoroughfares; and during those days’ wanderings he saw much of the busy scenes of city life, especially those places where merchant princes most do congregate.

After being in London about a week, faint, weary and worn, hungry and footsore, he sat down one evening in one of the recesses of London Bridge, and wept. Though thousands passed by not a soul took any notice of the sorrowing and weeping boy. As the shades of night began to fall faster and faster on the scene, the bridge became less crowded, and as the evening advanced, became almost deserted. The poor youth now thought seriously on his lonely and forlorn condition. To procure a bed was almost impossible, as he knew not where to go; and even if he did know, he could ill afford to spare two shillings—the sum his landlord had charged him the previous evening—because his little purse was nearly empty. When the few shillings which remained were gone, he saw no prospect before him but hunger and starvation, which he now considered would be his inevitable fate. He now repented of his somewhat rash act of leaving home before consulting with some one as to the best course he should pursue. But his repentance was too late. He placed himself in the hand of his heavenly Father, and prayed to Him for help and guidance. That prayer brought peace to his troubled spirit.

It was a beautiful and balmy summer night, and he asked himself the question, why could he not make himself quite comfortable there for a single night? Having resolved to sleep there for one night at least, he at once commenced to arrange his pillow, which consisted of his carpet bag. Having placed the bag on the ledge between the parapet and the footpath, he lay down to sleep. Just as he was about to close his eyes a gentleman came up, and stepping on the ledge close to the youth’s bag, looked over the parapet on the ebbing tide below. Having remained in that position a few minutes, he turned round for the purpose of descending to the regular path in order to continue his journey, but in his descent he saw the youth apparently asleep. He gazed on his countenance for a few moments, and said,—

“What are you doing there, my child, this time of night?”

“I hope, sir,” replied Cadwgan, “that my sleeping here for a night will not be wrong. I’m not in the way of any one, sir, and I won’t do any mischief.”

“But have you no other place to go to, my child? You can procure a bed somewhere, can’t you?”

“I might possibly do so, sir, but I can’t well spare the money to pay for a night’s lodgings.”

“But have you no friends or relations in town, my boy, to whom you could apply for assistance?”

“I’ve no friends in London, sir.”

“I presume you have relations in the country who are in a position to aid you.”

“I’ve a sister, sir, but she is nearly three hundred miles from here.”

“Where did you come from, my child?”

“From Wales, sir.”

“Is Wales your home—I mean your native country?”

“Yes, sir.”

“North or South Wales?”

“The North, sir.”

“Where in North Wales does your sister live?”“She lives at Bryn Villa, near Pont Aberglaslyn.”

“Surely, your name, my child, is not Wynn, is it?”

“That is my name, sir.”

“Then you are the son of Squire Wynn, of Wynn Castle?”

“Mr. Wynn was my father.”

“And how is that dear good man?”

“My father and mother, sir, are both dead. I have no one left to care for me but my sister, except my aunt.”

“I am truly sorry to hear tidings so sad. What is your aunt’s name?”

“Her name is Gwenfan Wynn, which is the name of my sister.”

“But are you not in error in calling her Wynn? I heard she got married some years ago.”

“My aunt was never married.”

“Are you sure of that, my child?”

“Quite sure, sir.”

“You greatly surprise me. I was given to understand she married a Scotch gentleman, many, many years ago.”“She did leave home with the intention of being married to a Mr. McDonel, but finding, fortunately before it was too late, that the representations he made of himself about his property, estate, and high connections, were all false, she broke off the match, and not wishing to return home then, when she would probably be subjected to perhaps unkind observations, took a situation in a nobleman’s family then about to visit Italy, with whom she has lived until within the last few weeks. The family only recently returned to England, and on the evening after their arrival, my aunt saw in the Times the announcement of my parents’ death. She immediately left London, and came to us in Wales. She is now with my dear sister acting as her guardian and friend.”

“I thank you, my child, for your information. You must now accompany me to my residence. You shall not want for a home and a friend as long as Owen Jones lives.”

“But, sir, I do not wish, nor can I consent, to live on charity. I’ve come up to London to work for my bread, and if Heaven smiles on my efforts I shall attain an honourable independency.”

“As to your future plans, my child, more anon. For the present my home must and shall be yours. When you have recovered from the fatigue of your journey, I will endeavour to obtain for you a situation in some respectable mercantile house. You must in the meantime be my guest. I hope happy days are in store for you.”

The youth then rose from his couch (Mr. Jones had, during the above conversation, been sitting on the ledge of the parapet by his side), but when he attempted to move he almost fell down from exhaustion. His newly found friend, who had intended to have walked home, hailed a coach, which soon arrived at his house, which was a semi-detached villa, in Brixton.

On their arrival, Mr. Jones introduced the youth to his wife and only daughter. The former on being informed who he was, welcomed him with affectionate cordiality. Mrs. Jones had known his father and mother years ago, she being a native of a village but a few miles from Wynn Castle.In his new home Cadwgan spent an exceedingly pleasant evening. He had to answer a thousand questions about people and families who resided in the vicinity of his far distant home among the mountains. At last he was permitted to retire to his room, and having had no sound sleep for several nights, and being weary and tired, was soon asleep. He awoke in the morning feeling he was almost a new man.

At breakfast, Mr. Jones asked the youth what kind of employment would best meet his wishes.

“I am indifferent, sir, as to the kind of situation; my object and most anxious desire is to earn my living by hard work.”

“I am extremely sorry, my young friend, that I have no vacancy for a young gentleman of your talents and education in my establishment. However, in the course of a few days I hope to succeed in procuring you a situation in one of the great city houses. In the meantime you are my guest. My wife and daughter shall take you out during the day, in order to show you the lions of this great city; but in the evenings they must not monopolize your whole attention, as I have much to say to you and many inquiries to make about dear old friends in old Cambria, which has been to us a good and kind mother.” Then turning to his wife he said,—“Be sure to take particular care of our young visitor, and don’t fail to bring him back without injury to health or limb.”

“You need be under no apprehension on that point, Owen,” answered Mrs. Jones. “No harm shall befall him when under my charge. I shall guard him from harm as if he were one of my own children.”

“I have no doubt you will, wife. I must now leave you. I hope you will spend a very pleasant day.”

Mr. Jones then left, and proceeded to his house of business; but during his walk he thought, not of mercantile transaction or of his dear old native land, oh, no: his thoughts were wholly occupied with the adventure of the previous evening.

Soon after the departure of Mr. Jones, his wife and daughter and young Wynn started off for the purpose of seeing some of the wonders of London, but the day closed before they saw one hundredth part of its glories. Day after day they continued to drive about from one part of the metropolis to another, and during these excursions Cadwgan had acquired a pretty accurate knowledge of the geography of London.

When at dinner on the following Sunday, Mr. Jones informed his young visitor of his having at last succeeded in procuring for him a situation as clerk in the old established house of Messrs. Davies, Roberts & Company, the celebrated tea merchants, and that he was to commence his duties on the following Monday. This information was exceedingly cheering to the youth, as the certainty of employment was now assured. Not wishing to be under obligation to his friends longer than he could possibly help, he expressed a wish to procure lodgings in some respectable family at once, and asked Mr. Jones if he knew of any place in the neighbourhood likely to suit him.

“We’ll talk on that matter, my boy, another time,” replied Mr. Jones. “For the present, at least, you must remain with us. If you do leave us in the way you propose, remember, be your stay in London long or short, you must consider our house your home. Before you can possibly make any arrangements you must first see if the situation will suit you; whether your employers like you, and you like them. If you give them satisfaction, and your position is likely to be permanent, why then we will, if you wish, permit you to leave us; and I’ve no doubt but that Mrs. Jones and my daughter will find you comfortable apartments.”

“Well, sir, I’m in your hands. You have overpowered me with kindness which I shall never be able to repay. When hungry, weary, and helpless, when friendless and without a ray of hope, you came to me as an angel of mercy, you took me into your house, and during my residence under your hospitable roof, Mrs. Jones and you have treated me as if I were your child. To you I shall always feel grateful; and come what may, your image will ever repose in my heart of hearts.”“Tut, tut! my boy, our kindness is nothing. If we have succeeded in making you happy, and in giving you a start in life, is not that a sufficient reward? But our little attention requites in a very small degree the obligations which I am under to your noble father’s family. I am still their debtor to an amount I shall never be able to repay.”

CHAPTER IV.
THE VICTORY OF INNOCENCE.

The establishment of Messrs. Davies, Roberts & Company, was situated in one of those narrow streets, and was one of those dark and dingy-looking buildings, which were far from being uncommon in old London. The premises, however, were large and commodious, and were specially adapted for their important trade. When Cadwgan saw it for the first time, namely, on the morning succeeding the conversation between Mr. Jones and himself recorded in the previous chapter, he was painfully struck with the contrast it presented with his own light and airy home, surrounded as that home was by rich fields of pasture land and trees of every kind and hue. However, he was by no means disheartened, and was far from disposed to give up the contest in life’s battle without a struggle, so he entered the building with his friend Mr. Jones cheerfully, and presently was asked into the presence of Mr. Roberts, the head of the firm.

“And this is the young gentleman you spoke to me about, friend Jones?”

“Yes. Mr. Cadwgan Wynn. I hope for the sake of our common country and our friendship, that you will not be unmindful of his interest.”

“His progress here, friend Jones, will depend wholly upon himself. If he prove himself quick, painstaking, and honest, he shall not want a friend.”

“His honesty and rectitude I will guarantee; and methinks as he comes from a shrewd stock, he will, with a few years’ experience, prove a valuable hand,—one whom it will be difficult for you to do without.”

“I am aware, Jones, that I can fully rely on your recommendation. Now, Mr. Wynn, when will you be ready to go into harness?”

“I am prepared, sir, to commence my duties at once. If convenient for you to make arrangements, I’ll remain here to-day.”

“By all means remain. Come, follow me, and I will introduce you to Mr. McLiver, our chief cashier, in whose department you will be engaged for the present.”

Mr. McLiver was a Scotchman, who had been in the service of the firm many years. From almost the lowest place, he had risen step by step until he attained the most important post in the house. In him the firm had unbounded confidence, and as he apparently managed his department with skill and economy Mr. Roberts permitted him to select nearly the whole of the clerks attached thereto. In less than two years from the date of his appointment to his present post he had managed, by hook or by crook, to get rid of nearly the whole of the old hands, and their places he supplied with Scotchmen of his own kith and kin. From the first day of entering the office, Mr. McLiver regarded Cadwgan as an intruder, an interloper; hence he looked upon the youth with aversion, and availed himself of every opportunity to vex and annoy him. But this was not all. Any little mistake Mr. Wynn might make in his books or accounts, was carried to Mr. Roberts. But to these complaints he turned a deaf ear, while at the same time he strictly enjoined upon Mr. McLiver to take all possible care to have Cadwgan thoroughly instructed in all business matters; above all, that he should be made a good accountant. Though the Scotchman faithfully promised to carry out to the letter his employer’s instructions, yet he intentionally refrained from doing so; while he continued to annoy the youth by making personal allusions to his country, and on more than one occasion he called him a Welsh blockhead. Of his conduct Cadwgan never made any complaint, nor did he make the slightest allusion to it, even to Mr. Jones. He worked on, was constantly labouring at his books and accounts, and in spite of the cashier he soon became a first-rate accountant. Before he had been in the establishment five years, he was the best man in the house as regarded profound knowledge of intricate details.

On the afternoon of the fifth anniversary of his official life, Mr. Roberts called Cadwgan into his private office, and expressed to him the high opinion he had formed of his ability and character; and to his great surprise informed him that being about to rearrange the work of the office, he had resolved to divide the office work into sections, and that it was his (Mr. Roberts’) intention and wish that he should take the position of chief accountant in the establishment, and that there would be a number of clerks under him; that for the future Mr. McLiver would simply receive moneys due to the firm, and pay all demands against it, but all accounts must pass through the hands of the accountants, which should bear the chief’s signature as being correct.

Cadwgan’s eyes filled with tears on being apprized of his promotion to so important a post, and he thanked Mr. Roberts from his heart of hearts for his confidence and kindness.

The morning on which Mr. Wynn was to commence his new duties, Mr. McLiver repaired to Mr. Roberts’ private office, where he found that gentleman occupying his usual seat, engaged in reading the money article of that morning’s Times. Addressing that gentleman in a somewhat peremptory manner, he said he had just stepped in to ask if it was really true that the young Welshman was to be placed in such an important and responsible position in the establishment.

“It is quite true, Mr. McLiver. The appointment has already been made, and in the opinion of my son and myself Mr. Wynn has richly earned the post assigned him. We are of opinion that, of all the clerks, he is by far the best qualified to discharge the duties of the office.”

“But consider, sir, my many years of faithful service in your house. I think that service merits some consideration from you.”

“But what is your wish, Mr. McLiver?”

“My wish, sir, is, that you confer this appointment upon my cousin. He has been longer in your employ than Wynn, and I am sure he possesses ability far superior to that of this young man.”

“That is quite impossible, Mr. McLiver. Mr. Wynn’s appointment has already been made, and he has been duly informed of my resolve. In fact he has accepted our offer.”

“In that case, sir, I fear I must send in my resignation. I could not think of having my books and accounts overhauled by this intruder.”

“You may leave, sir, if you wish; and I will give you a cheque for your quarter’s salary.”

“Am I right then in concluding you have lost confidence in me? Are you desirous that the connection between us be severed?”

“By no means, sir. If you leave, it will be your own act and deed.”

“Then you wish me to remain in your service?”

“Of course I do, Mr. McLiver. But you will bear in mind that all my arrangements and plans must be carried out to the letter. There must be no divided authority here, so long as I’m master. I desire you to confine yourself, wholly, to the duties of your department, which require your undivided attention; and I will be answerable for the proper discharge of the duties of the new accountant’s office.”

“I bow to your decision, Mr. Roberts, and hope you will not have any cause to regret the arrangements you have made.”

“Of that, sir, time will tell. You, Mr. McLiver, will not have to make up my loss.”

McLiver, finding it was useless to press the matter further, wished his chief good morning, and returned to his own office in a very bad humour.

On entering, he uttered the most awful imprecations against Welshmen in general, and Mr. Wynn in particular. He swore that he would be revenged. He turned to his cousin, and thus addressed him:—

“It is owing to you, you d—d scoundrel, that I owe my present disgrace.”

“To me, sir! What the d—l do you mean?”

“I mean, Donald, that if you had been steady and honest and plodding, this calamity would not have befallen our clan.”“A fellow must have a spree, McLiver, now and then. That is human nature.”

“D—n human nature! Donald, you talk like a fool.”

“I’m sorry for you, cousin. I’m truly sorry for you.”

“It is a d—d bad job for me, that you have indulged in dissipation to the extent you have.”

“But old Roberts has paid the piper, Mac, though he little suspects it. He is little aware where the money comes from to keep up your grand establishment. If he knew all wouldn’t there be a jolly blow up!”

“You son of paupers, you parish ’prentice, if you talk to me in that way I’ll knock your b—y head off your shoulders, by G—d I’ll do it, though you be my father’s brother’s son.”

“Come, come, cousin; it won’t do for thee and me to quarrel and fall out now. We’ve sailed too long in the same boat—I mean, we’ve dipped our fingers too deeply in the same till to peach upon each other, or to quarrel. Methinks our present duty is to guard against being found out.”

“Your advice is good, Donald; but that our delinquencies will come to the knowledge of old Roberts, d—n him, is a matter of certainty. That young Welsh nincompoop imp has his eyes everywhere; his ears are always open. I should not be at all surprised even if our present talk reached him. For us it was an evil day when he came here. If I were sure of not being found out, I’d soon put an end to his presence.”

“Bad as I am, cousin, I’d not commit murder. That we must not do. Our best plan is to concoct some scheme to dethrone this upstart. Old Roberts has willed he should reign over us; be it our mission to bring him to the dust.”

“A good suggestion, Donald. By gam! we must take care, though, to lay the snare well so as to be certain of our bird.”

* * * * *

During several months succeeding the above conversation the business of the house of Davies, Roberts & Company went on in its usual quiet way, but in those months the young Welshman and his staff had succeeded in overhauling the books of the firm for several years. At the accounts they had worked night and day. When the investigation had been completed his clerks knew nothing about the result, nor indeed of the object which they had in view in making so strict an investigation. So far Mr. Wynn had discovered defalcations amounting to nearly £20,000, though the bottom of the peculation had not yet been reached. The books showed that McLiver had carried on his swindling in a regularly systematic manner, and had escaped detection for the reason that all his subordinates, which made up nearly the whole staff, were creatures of his own—principally his own kith and kin. When Cadwgan had completed his labours, he had ascertained, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the amount abstracted was £24,500. During the months he had been engaged in auditing the books, Cadwgan had made certain inquiries of houses with which his employers had had business transactions, so he was in a position to prove by written evidence the particulars and the exact sum of each fraudulent transaction. These inquiries had been carried on privately; neither to Mr. Roberts, nor to any member of his staff, had he let fall a word calculated to awaken suspicion. It was late on a Saturday night when Cadwgan finished his labours. When descending from his office down to the large entrance hall, with his papers in his hand, he was surprised to find Mr. McLiver and his cousin Donald there. They did not stop to speak, but passed on into their own office. As they heard Mr. Wynn, before he descended, shut his office door and lock it, they naturally concluded he was the last person in the buildings. Presently, McLiver and Donald left the house together, the porter closing the door on their descending into the street.

That evening was anxiously spent by Mr. Wynn. He retired to rest late, but slept not. That the facts he possessed would be most damaging to his arch-enemy there could be no doubt; that he might possibly be the means of saving his employers from being ruined, was in his judgment equally certain.

On the following Sunday morning Cadwgan paid a visit to his friend Mr. Owen Jones, to whom he revealed the state of affairs of the firm. Mr. Jones was a man of the world, and, moreover, was a wise and sagacious man of business. After talking over the matter, it was arranged that Mr. Jones should accompany his young friend to the establishment of Messrs. Davies, Roberts & Company the next morning, when the whole facts should be placed before Mr. Roberts.

On their arrival at the establishment on Monday morning, Mr. Jones and Cadwgan at once went to Mr. Roberts’ private office, when that gentleman looked at Mr. Wynn with a hard and scowling brow. As Mr. Jones had always experienced the greatest kindness from Mr. Roberts (they had been more like brothers than friends), he was surprised and astonished in observing his altered look, and boldly asked the cause of his seeming displeasure.

“Cause, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Roberts. “Did you say cause! There is methinks enough of cause! To be robbed of £3000 by this young man, whom you introduced to me, for whom I have done so much, whose interest and welfare I have done so much to promote—’tis enough to make me curse the day on which I was weak and foolish enough to comply with your pressing request to take him into my service. Cause, indeed! To be robbed thus is a sufficient cause for my anger.”

“Did you say, sir,” remarked Cadwgan, “that I had robbed you of £3000?”

“Certainly, I said so. And you don’t deny it.”

“I emphatically deny your charge, sir, and demand the name of my accuser.”

“I accuse you, sir. Is not that enough?”

“But, Mr. Roberts, you are a just man, and I presume you will not condemn me before placing in my possession the evidence upon which your judgment rests.”

“My informant, sir, is my confidential clerk, Mr. McLiver. He is prepared to swear to the fact of your being the robber, and his cousin Donald will corroborate his statement.”McLiver was then summoned by Mr. Roberts; and in reply to his inquiries stated, that on the previous Saturday evening he and his cousin had secreted themselves in the house, that during the time they were in their hiding-place Mr. Wynn came down from his own room and went into the cashier’s office, and by means of false keys opened the safe and rifled the drawers of their contents, which he put into a bag, then retired. He continued to say, that he and his cousin waited there some time, that Mr. Wynn went back to his own office, and afterwards came down stairs with the bag in his hand, which was so heavy that he was almost weighed down. He left the office taking the bag of gold with him. Donald corroborated his cousin’s statement.

Mr. Jones, as was natural, appeared much excited during the Scotchman’s narrative. He almost believed in his young friend’s guilt, because the evidence was so direct and circumstantial. Mr. Wynn stood calm and collected; he never moved during the few minutes which the delivery of the evidence against him occupied, though his dark piercing eye, intently fixed upon McLiver, made that man quail beneath its penetrating glance. When they had finished their story, Mr. Wynn asked his employer’s permission to call evidence in his favour,—a request which was readily acceded to, because he really loved the youth. He then called into the office, one by one, six of his confidential clerks, the gentlemen who had been specially engaged with him in investigating the old accounts, who, in reply to his question, said that Mr. Wynn never left the office until his final departure, which was very late, and that they watched him going out though unperceived. The care-taker gave evidence that Mr. Wynn did not return after his departure. When they had completed the evidence, Mr. McLiver asked, “And what were you doing at the office that time of night?”

“We were engaged in making copies of important documents for Mr. Wynn.”

“What became of those?” asked Mr. Roberts.

“They were all put, sir, into Mr. Wynn’s bag.”

“Who put them into the bag?”

“We did, sir,” replied Mr. Williams.“Was the bag locked, Mr. Williams?”

“Yes, sir, it was locked; and the key has been in my possession since.”

“Before we examine the contents of the bag I wish to know if you are quite sure that Mr. Wynn did not leave the office during any portion of the evening, that is, before his final departure; and that you and your fellow-clerks saw him out.”

They replied, that they were prepared to make oath on the point.

“Why did you watch his departure?” asked Mr. Roberts.

“I had overheard a conversation,” said Mr. Williams, the clerk of Mr. Wynn’s department, “between Mr. McLiver and his cousin Donald, in which certain threatening words were used towards Mr. Wynn. We watched his departure, thinking it quite possible that they might be lurking about the buildings in order to effect his ruin.”

When McLiver and Donald heard the above evidence they became agitated, and their faces became as white as snow. Mr. Roberts scarcely knew what to do. After considering a few minutes, he turned to McLiver, saying, “I fear your tale is untrue; for these six gentlemen, whom I have always found truthful and honourable, have in the most direct manner flatly contradicted you in every particular. I hope you and your cousin have not conspired to injure this young man.”

“You have hit the right nail on the head this time,” said Mr. Jones, “and no mistake. But is this £3000 the whole of your loss, friend Roberts?”

“The whole as far as I know.”

“Happy man! what a blessed thing it is to be rich, and unable to reckon up the whole of one’s profits.”

“I suppose, Jones,” remarked Mr. Roberts pettishly, “you wouldn’t like to lose £3000.”

“I am afraid, my friend, you will find your loss not £3000, but nine times three, if the £3000 has really disappeared.”

“What do you really mean, Jones? You appear to know more of my affairs than I know myself.”

“In a few words, I mean to say, Roberts, that that immaculate gentleman, the accuser of my young friend here, who is also the best friend you ever had, has robbed you to the tune of some £25,000, in addition to this £3000; for I presume he has taken that sum too; and Mr. Wynn has evidence in his bag,—it is still locked,—which will completely substantiate the fact. When you know the whole, you’ll bless the day, friend Roberts, on which my child was introduced into your establishment.”

“For the present we will suspend our judgment. Jones, Mr. Wynn, all of you, go to Mr. Wynn’s office. We will compare Mr. Wynn’s papers with our ledgers and day books.” The bag was unlocked, and paper after paper was produced, and document after document submitted for inspection and comparison. Cadwgan detailed step by step his proceedings in order to ascertain the exact sum total of the money abstracted by Mr. McLiver and Donald. After he had gone through these, he produced the documents and vouchers he had collected from firms with which Messrs. Davies, Roberts & Company had had transactions, and on being compared with the ledger, it was found that in many cases the actual sum paid to merchants for goods did not amount to a moiety of the sum inserted in the ledger. The evidence of McLiver’s guilt was overwhelming. When Mr. Roberts saw this, he took Mr. Wynn into his arms, embraced him as if he was his own child, and with tears in his eyes besought his pardon for having for a moment entertained suspicions of his honesty and rectitude.

“The matter to me is now made plain. The real culprit is the man whom I regarded as upright, pure, and honest. He has shamefully abused my confidence. To him I entrusted my money; and what, sir,” turning to McLiver, “have you to say in your defence?”

“I will neither acknowledge nor deny my guilt, sir, in the presence of that Welsh puppy, who is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a caitiff cut-throat miscreant, a cunning, intriguing, and deceitful urchin from the Welsh mountains. When he meets me and Donald in the street, I promise him he shall be well paid for his treachery and circumvention.”“That is,” said Mr. Roberts, “on condition you leave me a free man. For the present, sir, you must consider yourself and your cousin—I believe him to be equally guilty with yourself—in the hands of the authorities. The officers of justice are now in an adjoining room. They are there awaiting my orders. There is no occasion to detain them, as your guilt is but too clearly made out.”

The door was then opened, and McLiver and Donald were placed in their charge, and were marched off to prison.

On the room being cleared of the presence of all excepting Mr. Jones and Cadwgan, Mr. Roberts asked the latter how he had succeeded in making such important discoveries, and the reason which had moved him in entering upon an investigation which had cost him and his staff so much time and labour.

“For a long time, sir, I have firmly believed in his dishonesty. In the first place, and this fact first awakened my suspicion, I, by means which it is unnecessary for me to detail, ascertained that he was keeping a grand house, and had livery servants and carriages, and gave grand parties, which I knew he could not do with £400 a year. His cousin, Donald, is a fast young man who spent his earnings in dissipation, and for years has been the constant companion of young men who are believed to live by swindling their respective employers. On making these discoveries, Mr. Sykes, who is an honest Yorkshireman, and my friend Mr. Williams, resolved to take special notice of their movements, and wisely kept records of what they saw and heard, which could at any time be produced in the event of anything turning up. We discovered first, that tea had been bought by your house of a very inferior quality, which was paid for at double the actual invoice price, and in some cases the charge was sixty per cent above the actual cost.”

“But, Mr. Wynn, how did he manage this?”

“Oh, easily enough, sir.”

“But how?”

“We found by inquiry, that McLiver had two relatives as cashiers in the houses with which you did business; and as all moneys passed through their hands, they could commit frauds to almost any extent without fear of being detected. They had confederates, so by acting together had but little difficulty in carrying out their system of plunder, especially as the books and accounts were under their control. When you made your new arrangements, they, that is, Mr. McLiver and Donald, were apprehensive that disclosures would be made, and you will remember, sir, that McLiver almost protested against your scheme.”

“I well remember, Mr. Wynn, that he was terribly angry, but little did I then think that its cause originated in fear.”

“After the appointment had been made, and we had entered upon our duties, Mr. Sykes ascertained—in short he overheard a conversation between the two in which certain threats were made towards me, and in that conversation McLiver and Donald upbraided each other about their peculation. We had thus sufficient evidence to warrant us in concluding that they had robbed you. Having discovered this, we then planned the investigation, which has occupied our evenings ever since. It was late on Saturday night when we arrived at the final result. The rest you know.”

“Yes, yes, Cadwgan, I know the rest. In the presence of my dear and valued friend Jones, I offer you my humblest apology for having suspected you of dishonesty; I shall never be able to repay you for the services you have rendered me.”

“I’m repaid already by your confidence and esteem.”

“And hereafter, Mr. Wynn, I will seek to do so in a more substantial way. But tell me, what can you possibly know about the quality of tea? You remarked just now it was inferior; how did you ascertain this?”

“I know the quality of teas by the smell.” [178]

“By the smell!”“Yes, sir; by the smell.”

“Is that really so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here are two samples: please give me your judgment upon them.”

Mr. Wynn took the samples, and having smelt them, returned them to his employer, saying, this is worth so much, the other sample is not worth buying.

“Well, Mr. Wynn, I am satisfied, and more than satisfied, with your conduct during the years you have been in our house. For your goodness, and the deep interest you have taken in all matters connected with my affairs, from the bottom of my heart I thank you. You are necessarily agitated by reason of the scene through which you have just passed. You must be fatigued too by reason of the extra work you have, for my sake, imposed upon yourself. I cannot now say in what way I shall reward you, but if you and friend Jones will come and dine at my house (bring Mrs. Jones and your daughter with you), I will then tell you the course I shall adopt, and the arrangements I propose to make with reference to your position and prospects. Your disinterested service calls for an ample reward.”

“I require no reward, Mr. Roberts,” said Cadwgan. “I have simply done my duty.”

“Well, well, Mr. Wynn, you may think so. You must not, however, condemn me for holding the contrary opinion.”

“I should esteem it a favour, sir, if you would give Mr. Sykes and Mr. Williams a holiday. They are not well, and I fear the pressure upon them during the past few weeks has overtaxed their strength.”

“By all means let them go. Please give them this, and tell them it is a small token of my high appreciation of their conduct.”

Mr. Wynn was delighted at being made the channel of Mr. Roberts’s communication. When the papers were opened, it was found that they were two £10 Bank of England notes. On receiving the gift, the Yorkshireman held it up, and said,—“I little expected this.” Mr. Williams, too, was equally surprised. They then wished each other good morning, and it need hardly be said that Mr. Wynn’s assistants thoroughly enjoyed their day’s trip to Windsor.

CHAPTER V.
THE RIGHT MAN COMING AT THE RIGHT TIME.

“Is it not strange, dear aunt,” said Gwenfan, “that Cadwgan has been so long silent? We have not heard from him for more than a month. He might just have sent a line to say he was well, and when we may expect him?”

“Cadwgan, my dear child, has now a great deal to do. Since his promotion, doubtless his time is fully occupied.”

“I should like to see a likeness of the young lady to whom he refers in his letters. If the description he gives be anything approaching the truth, she must be queen both in personal appearance and purity of mind.”

“Do you refer to Miss Jones, my child?”

“Yes, aunt bach; I refer certainly to her. I think my naughty brother is in love with her.”

“It will be an excellent match, Gwenfan, for Miss Jones is an only child of very rich parents.”

“I was not aware, aunt, that Mr. Jones was a person of great wealth, though I thought he was well to do.”

“It is said, that her papa will give her £50,000 on the morning of her marriage, with the certainty of farther expectations.”

“Well, I should like to see Cadwgan settled, if he had a kind, good, and loving wife. For myself, aunty, I intend to remain single, and be like you, an old maid.”

“Oh, you do, do you? You will alter your opinion, I’ll be bound when the right man comes.”

“But will the right man come, aunty? Never, never, say I.”

“Oh, the right man will certainly come, Gwenfan. I declare there he is. Look! look! be quick! Why, he is coming here. If you wish to escape his net, fly, my niece, at once to your room.”

“Fly? I will not do that, aunty,” said Gwenfan, laughing. “Though perhaps we had better retire and prepare ourselves to receive him.”“Well thought of, my child; and tell the servant, if he seeks us, to show him into the drawing-room, where we will presently join him.”

When the servant opened the door, the young gentleman inquired if Miss Wynn were within, as he wished to see her on a matter of some importance. Receiving a reply in the affirmative, the servant conducted the stranger to the drawing-room, on entering which he took a seat in the great bay-window, from which he gazed on the glorious prospect around. So enchanted was he with the sight, the exquisite beauty of the scene, that he did not notice the entrance of the ladies, who had been a few minutes in the room before he became aware of their presence. At last Miss Aunt Wynn approached the chair on which he was seated, when the ruffle of her dress awoke him from his reverie. He then rose, apologised for his abrupt visit, but excused himself by saying that circumstances had occurred which had compelled him to alter his original arrangement, hence he found himself there two days earlier than he had expected.“But ladies, in my having to apologise, I forget to introduce myself. My name is Rhys Roberts, and I presume,” pointing to the young lady standing by her aunt’s chair, “that she is your niece, Miss Gwenfan Wynn.”

“Yes, sir; this young lady is my niece.”

“I thought so. She is the very image of her brother.”

“And do you know my brother?” asked Gwenfan.

“Know him! He is my father’s chief hand, and my most intimate friend.”

“When did you see or hear from my brother, sir?”

“When I left London, we arranged to meet here. I have been expecting a letter from him daily, but no letter has reached me. I cannot think what has become of him. It is quite possible he may be detained on important business. He had a very important matter in hand when I left.”

“We have not heard from him,” said the aunt, “for a month, and his sister and I are getting very anxious about him.”“You need not, ladies, be in any alarm. During the last month, he has been working night and day, and has had scarcely a moment to spare. He has now completed his labours, so on Monday, or on Tuesday next at the farthest, you may expect him.”

“In that case, we shall have the pleasure of your company until his arrival,” remarked the aunt. “My nephew’s friend will ever receive here a hearty welcome.”

“I’m extremely obliged to you, madam, for your kind offer of hospitality, and as I wish, and am most anxious, to pay a visit to the most remarkable places in your neighbourhood, I embrace your kind offer, if you and Miss Gwenfan will promise to act as my cicerones, as doubtless you are thoroughly acquainted with every nook and corner of the country where the beauteous spots are to be found.”

“We shall, sir,” said the ladies, “be delighted to show you the most romantic spots to be found in wild Wales. For grandeur and bold scenery our neighbourhood has no equal. But, Mr. Roberts, you must judge for yourself. When you have traversed our mountains and valleys, our high hills and sylvan glades, you will say that the beauties of the surrounding scene are beyond the descriptive powers of the most eloquent pen of this age.”

During the few days of their tour, they visited Bettws-y-Coed, Capel Curig, the Swallow Falls, Pont Aberglaslyn, Llyngwynant, Tan y Bwlch, Maentwrog, Ffestiniog, Rhayadr DdÛ, Tremadoc, Harlech, and Aberdovy, returning late on Saturday night from the latter town. Both the ladies and Mr. Roberts had thoroughly enjoyed their outing; the latter especially, having now for the first time beheld the scenes, was charmed with the grand sights which he had beheld.

During this excursion there had sprung up, unconsciously to himself, a feeling of more than respect for Miss Gwenfan, whilst she and her aunt concluded that Mr. Roberts was one of the most kind-hearted, generous, and amiable young gentlemen with whom they had ever come in contact. It must, too, be owned that Mr. Roberts had awakened in her young heart emotions of a kind, and in a degree, to which that heart had been previously a stranger.

When Mr. Roberts retired to his dressing-room he wrote in his diary the following sentence: “Happy, thrice happy, will be the man who secures such a prize as Miss Gwenfan! In her heart is lodged the deepest reverence for truth, for virtue, and religion. She is, too, as beautiful as she is good. Her attachment to and admiration of her native country and its people is as deep and as enthusiastic as was that of the glorious old patriots of olden times. Then the days I have passed in her society have been the happiest I ever spent. I can hardly realize the happiness I have enjoyed. They are like a dream, though in the foreground of the vision there stands the good and beautiful maiden, with her curly locks, her auburn hair, her dark eye, and a countenance as clear as the crystal streamlet. In spite of myself I love her. I now retire to rest. May her dreams be as pleasant as I hope mine will be!”

At breakfast, on the following Sabbath morning, Mr. Roberts asked the ladies if they would accompany him to the Methodist Church, at Tan y Bwlch, as he was particularly desirous of hearing the Rev. Thomas Charles, of Bala, who at that time was considered one of the most eminent clergymen in Wales.

“It is fortunate, Mr. Roberts, you put the question to us,” replied the ladies.

“And why?”

“Oh, you have simply anticipated us in your request.”

“Then you had arranged to go?”

“Yes, conditionally on your accompanying us to hear that great and good man.”

“I am delighted, madam, in the prospect of seeing and hearing one so distinguished for learning and piety, one who has made so many sacrifices for the spiritual welfare of his countrymen.”

On their arrival at the church they found it crammed to suffocation, scarcely a single inch remained unoccupied. However, as the Misses Wynn and Mr. Roberts came in a carriage, and Bryn Villa being always open to receive clergymen of this and all other denominations, the deacons managed to find them seats. Mr. Charles’ discourse was above the average; some of the passages were most eloquent, and many members of the congregation were bathed in tears.

On their way home Mr. Roberts referred to a passage in Mr. Charles’ sermon, which he considered most beautiful. “You remember he said, ‘implicitly to follow the counsel of the best and wisest of men, is to depend on an arm of flesh. They only are right and safe who make God’s glory their end, God’s word their rule, God’s spirit the guide of their actions, and God’s providence the guide of their affairs. They may not be led by the nearest, but they will be by the best road; as it will certainly appear when they come to their journey’s end.’ If the Christian Church, and if all religious people were to act according to Mr. Charles’ sublime idea, the race would be happier than it is. The standard he set before us is a high one. I’ve found it difficult to live up to it.”“I have no doubt you have, Mr. Roberts,” remarked the aunt. “We must, however, do our best, then Heaven will surely smile upon us, though we but imperfectly perform our religious duty.”

“It is that thought, madam, which cheers me in my hour of gloom and sadness. I often think that I should have given up striving to live to God were it not for the glorious promises He has given His Church and people. In my endeavour to attain to the highest form of spiritual life, your nephew, Miss Wynn, your dear brother, Miss Gwenfan, has helped me by his wise counsel, while his deep religiousness and high Christian character have been incentives to me to aspire to reach the highest good.”

The reference to her brother brought tears to Gwenfan’s eyes. Ever since he had left home, she had prayed every night and morning that he might be kept from evil, kept unspotted from the world, kept safely in the pavilion of the unseen and eternal.

Mr. Roberts, seeing the young lady in tears, asked if he could in any way alleviate her sorrow; but she at once replied,—

“I weep not, sir, because my heart is sad. I am almost overcome with joy by reason of your reference to dear Cadwgan. Oh, I do rejoice with unspeakable satisfaction, that he has not forgotten the holy lessons our dear parents taught us. Though they are gone, I feel their spirits often visit us, and I think they watch over us with the same care and solicitude as when they were present in the flesh.”

“Happy, my dear Miss Wynn, must be the brother whose beloved sister, living here amongst the Welsh mountains, prays daily for his welfare. I can bear testimony to his practical piety, his eminent godliness, his deep devotional spirit. He has taught me to love and adore the Name which is above every name. There is, too, a fragrance about Cadwgan’s acts and life. Truly has he been the guide of my inexperience, my counsellor, my friend. During the past three years, scarcely a day has passed without our having conversation on the highest things. Since we parted the other day, I have missed him much. Oh, I wish he had come! But there is your brother. Look! He is waiting our return.”

In a moment afterward Cadwgan and his sister were locked in each other’s arms.

During the following week Miss Gwenfan Wynn and Mr. Roberts were almost constantly together; and it must be owned that there grew up between those two young and innocent hearts a feeling more warm, more ardent, and more fervent than usually exists between friends and acquaintances; a feeling which if permitted to ripen and develop, would result in the union of heart with heart, soul with soul,—a feeling the intensity of which would survive even the tomb.

After the happy days thus spent together, Miss Wynn one evening remarked to her niece, “Has not the right man come, my child? I suppose I shall hear no more of your living the life of an old maid?”

“Oh, aunt, you are too cruel. I like Mr. Roberts much, but only as Cadwgan’s friend.”“Well, well; we shall see what we shall see. You will be Mrs. Roberts one of these days. There, don’t blush my child. There is no harm in your loving so noble a youth.”

On leaving the warehouse one evening, soon after his return from Wales, Mr. Roberts remarked, “You must dine with us to-morrow, Mr. Wynn, and my old friend Jones will accompany you. He has already arranged to form one of our party, and I am glad for my own sake and yours that we shall have the pleasure of his society. He is one of the best men I know in this huge city.”

As soon as the ladies had retired, Mr. Roberts pushed the bottle to Mr. Jones, with the observation, “This is your favourite wine, and please to make yourself as free with it as you’re welcome. I think Mr. Wynn and you, my son, prefer sherry. I’ll try port, which is my favourite drink.”

After a general conversation on the general topics of the day, Mr. Roberts turned to Mr. Jones, and said that he thanked him most gratefully for having pleaded so eloquently the claims of his young friend, Wynn. “You will doubtless remember, Jones, that I was most unwilling to receive him into the establishment, in the first place on his own account; secondly, I did not consider mine a proper place for a young gentleman of his social position. You, however, urged his claims, and considering our personal friendship, and my previous connection with the Wynn family, I at last reluctantly yielded to your wishes, though in doing so I was perfectly aware that I should create in the mind of McLiver hostile feelings to myself and Cadwgan there. I little expected that my cashier’s objection would spring from conviction of wrongdoing. I believed in his integrity, and had confidence in his honesty; and as he apparently served me faithfully I was prepared to yield to some extent to his wishes, though he was well aware of my unbending disposition when once I had resolved to carry a particular point. McLiver having discovered my resolve to be Mr. Wynn’s friend, I must own that he did not oppose my wishes to the extent I at first anticipated.

“Now from the first day on which Mr. Wynn entered upon his duties, I am bound to say that I found him plodding, persevering, and honest; his first and chief concern being to promote my interest. In this, he set us all an example we should do well to copy.

“To the proceedings of the other day—a day which to me will be ever memorable, I will not allude further than to express a hope that I have Cadwgan’s complete pardon for having for once suspected his dishonesty. And this is a fitting occasion for me to thank you, Jones, for the deep interest you have shown in my affairs in connection with our young friend. Had Cadwgan not done what he did, the scoundrel’s rascality would in all probability have effected my ruin. But how came you, Mr. Wynn, to suspect his dishonesty?”

“My tale, sir, is soon told,” remarked Cadwgan. “From time to time little things cropped up in connection with business transactions and in the accounts, the appearance of which I did not at all like. To my mind there was satisfactory and conclusive evidence that the man was not dealing honourably by you, and that you were a victim of his dishonesty. You must bear in mind this, I had but a suspicion. I could not prove that what I suspected was actual and real.

“Being in a state of doubt, I really did not know what to do. I could not suggest my suspicion to you because the person was in your confidence. After thinking over the matter some days and nights I resolved to sound my fellow-clerks, Messrs. Sykes and Williams, for I knew I could depend on them. Strange to say they had long suspected his guilt, but were afraid to give expression to their opinion, because Mr. McLiver appeared all-powerful.

“After a conference we agreed to get up evidence. We ascertained he was living at the rate of £2000 or £3000 a year, though he had no income but his salary. We found, too, that he paid for all goods when ordered. On making further inquiry we discovered that his cousin Donald, though he had a smaller salary than I had, spent several pounds weekly in dissipation.

“Then the constant visits of relatives who are employed in similar establishments in the city, and the worthless stuff sent from the houses where they were engaged, these things awakened in my mind the strongest suspicion that the parties were conspiring together to rob you and their employers.

“As the books were all in McLiver’s hands and under his control, we could do nothing; but when you appointed me to the post of accountant, Mr. Sykes, Mr. Williams, and myself resolved to ascertain if our suspicion was well founded. During the past three months we have given the whole of our spare time during the day to the past five years’ accounts, while we seldom left the office until late at night. The result of our labours you know. I fancy one of the clerks in my department must have told McLiver what we were doing, and doubtless his guilt awoke in his mind a sense of the dangerous position in which he had placed himself. Then in order if possible to crush me before the work was done, he and his cousin Donald concocted the charge against me—themselves being the robbers. I do not for a moment think they wished my punishment. What they did desire was to secure my expulsion from your establishment, that thus their malpractices might possibly remain undetected.”

“But where are his relations employed, Mr. Wynn?” asked Mr. Roberts.

“Mr. McNab, his uncle, is cashier to the Chinese Tea Company, and his brother is with Morant & Hogsflesh.”

“Do you really believe these parties were confederates?”

“No doubt of it, sir.”

“In that case what would you advise?”

“In justice to yourself and the high reputation of your house, it is your duty to furnish them with the whole of our discovered facts. It is important they should be informed of their servants’ dishonesty.”

“By gad, Mr. Wynn, I’ll advise their punishment; and if their employers won’t do it, I will.”“I am afraid that your advice will be too late.”

“How so, Cadwgan?”

“Both have already fled to the Continent. It appears that they, like McLiver, helped themselves to their employers’ money before they went.”

“But how did they find out McLiver was in prison, Mr. Wynn?”

“Some one of your servants or clerks must have carried the news to them.”

“We’ll get the scoundrels back, cost what it will. To-morrow the officers of justice shall fly in pursuit. We’ll find them somewhere.”

“No doubt, sir, they deserve severe punishment, though I am sorry for McNab, because he has a large family, and in punishing him you will punish his innocent wife and children.”

“They, Mr. Wynn, shall not come to want. While resolving to punish the guilty, I’ll see to the interests of the guiltless.”

“Give me your hand, friend Roberts,” said Mr. Jones. “You are a noble fellow; your heart is in the right place; and I’ll join you in so holy a work.”

“I must now turn,” said Mr. Roberts, “to a more pleasant theme. It has been by you, Mr. Wynn, I have been saved from ruin. You have business talents of a high order. I would trust you with untold gold. You have proved your fidelity and tact under circumstances the most trying. In our relationship I plainly see the finger of Heaven. I now plainly see that it is my interest no less than your own that our relationship should be closer than it has hitherto been. The business, as you are aware, is wholly my own. Thank Heaven, I possess all the wealth I desire. However, I love work, and at present I’m not quite prepared to throw off the harness. I shall do so, however, in a few years. In view of that day I think it well to prepare for it. I have therefore resolved to take into partnership my son Rhys and you, and we’ll take equal profits. The money in the business I shall regard as a set-off against your ability and talent, and when I go out I will leave in your joint hands the capital necessary for successfully carrying on the concern. Are you prepared, Mr. Wynn, to accept my offer?”

“With deep gratitude and thanks I do indeed accept your offer, Mr. Roberts. I shall never be able to repay you for your goodness and kindness. To me you have been always kind, always generous, ever noble and disinterested. To Mr. Jones and you I owe my present position and the prospects before me. My gratitude, sir, I shall carry with me to the grave.”

“I rejoice,” remarked Mr. Jones, who had hitherto been an almost silent listener, “to see this day, and I shall pray Heaven that the sun of prosperity may ever continue to shine on your concern, and that never an incident may occur calculated to disturb the kindly feeling and mutual confidence between you, friend Roberts, and your new partners.”

“To that, Jones, I say amen. Still I think there is not much danger on that score. We all know each other; that’s an important point. Unless my suspicions are wrong, which I think is not likely, that roving son of mine has managed to fall in love; and I warn you, Mr. Wynn, especially if you desire your sister to become your little housekeeper, to take care of her. If you don’t do so, his siege on her heart’s citadel will prove, I fear, successful. Well, I forgive him for making love without his father’s permission; and you, Mr. Wynn, must pardon him too.”

* * * * *

“Now, Mr. Wynn, in view of our new arrangements, what alterations would you propose in the conduct of the business, bearing this in mind, that you will have to undertake the purchase of all goods?”

“In that case, Mr. Roberts, I recommend your appointing Mr. Williams to the office I now fill. He is a relative of yours, and is a thoroughly competent man. Then Mr. Sykes would succeed McLiver. His honesty and integrity are beyond question. Had it not been for their able assistance, I should never have succeeded in unravelling the mysteries of your affairs.”“Your proposal, Mr. Wynn, does infinite credit to your sagacity. Let the arrangements be carried out at once. The deed of partnership has already been prepared, and now awaits your signature. My son signed it before he left on his recent tour.”

Under the new management, the company of Roberts, Wynn & Roberts, grew mightily. From one end of the kingdom to the other their teas were in great repute. They had for their patrons royal princes and the nobles of the land. The demand grew year after year, and the increased sale brought large additional profits. During the fifth year of the partnership, these profits amounted to £45,000, though Mr. Wynn did not take above £750, one half of which he sent his aunt and sister for their use. Cadwgan had during those five years put by £55,000.

CHAPTER VII.
THE LOST INHERITANCE REGAINED.

The day previous to the return of Mr. Wynn and young Roberts to town, they went out alone for a stroll. They took the road leading to Pont Aberglaslyn, and as both gentlemen were excellent pedestrians, they soon arrived at that exquisitely beautiful glen. When on the bridge, they gazed in silence for some minutes on the dark mad water beneath. After some minutes’ silence, Mr. Wynn asked his friend if he had previously visited the glen.

“Yes; I have been here once, Cadwgan.”

“Don’t you think it’s a charming spot?”

“In my judgment, Cadwgan, this is the grandest scene in all Wales.”

“Then you prefer it to Bettws-y-Coed?”

“I do. This place has a charm for me which that sylvan vale has not.”

“So it has for me, my friend. The meandering river flowing down this valley, the high hills on either side of the glen, the stupendous and overhanging rocks, with a thousand different colours, foliage, trees, shrubs, and mosses, with grand old Snowdon in the distance: these, and early recollections and associations, have rendered this place dearer to me than all other scenes in my dear native land. I am glad that our views of this delectable valley are identical, though I cannot convey to you the depth of my emotion in contemplating the scene.”

“Cadwgan,” replied Mr. Roberts, “the spot on which I now stand is as dear to me as my life. You have been my adviser, my counsellor, my friend—ay, more than a brother to me. Oh, advise me how to act! I confessed here to your sister my love, and offered her my hand and heart. I asked her to become mine; but oh, Cadwgan, she rejected my offer!”

“Did she, that is, my sister, give any reason for declining your offer?”

“Indeed she did not.”

“Did she tell you she was engaged already?”

“Nay; she told me she was free.”“Did you ask her for an immediate answer?”

“Yes.”

“What was her reply?”

“That she could not be mine.”

“Then she gave you no other reason?”

“No, no, Cadwgan; but was not that enough? Since then I’ve been the most miserable of men. Oh, you must dissuade her from acting towards me so cruelly.”

“I am glad, Roberts, my sister acted as she did, though I deeply regret the pain her refusal has occasioned you. I blame you for confessing your love, though I do not blame you for feeling admiration for my dear sister.”

“I take it, Cadwgan, you are not favourable to my suit.”

“So far from being unfavourable, my dear Roberts, I will confess to you that I know of no one whom I should so like to have for a brother as yourself.”

“Then you are willing for me to renew my suit hereafter?”

“Most willing.”“But you have expressed your approval of your sister’s rejection of my suit?”

“Yes.”

“You are incomprehensible to me. Pray explain yourself, my dear Cadwgan.”

“I’ll do so in a few words. Before I can permit my dear sister to entertain your proposal, your father must be fully informed of your intention. His views of such an alliance might be very different from yours. He might wish you to marry the daughter of a wealthy city merchant, therefore he would regard your proposal as foolish and imprudent.”

“Cadwgan, you do my dear father great injustice. He has an abundance of wealth. He would be the last man to make my marriage a matter of money speculation. I know better than you can his feelings, and am sure that, in a matter so momentous, his first consideration would be my happiness.”

“I have no doubt but such are your father’s feelings; still, as I am but a clerk in his establishment, I can’t permit you to address my sister until his consent is given fully and freely.”“Well, knowing your high character and scruples, I must tell you that I have taken steps in order to anticipate your objection.”

“I hope you have not written Mr. Roberts?”

“Indeed I have, Cadwgan.”

“I’m very sorry; you really should have waited.”

“Nay, nay, I couldn’t wait.”

“Has your father replied?”

“Yes; his answer came this morning.”

“I suppose he has ordered your immediate return home?”

“Oh no. I’m to stay another week if I like.”

“Well, has he given you his consent for you to propose to my dear sister?”

“Yes; I have his hearty approval.”

“Then my sister was not aware of this when you offered her your hand?”

“Certainly not. My father’s letter came this morning.”

“Have you informed her of your father’s feeling in the matter?”

“No. I delayed doing so until I spoke to you.”“I’m glad you have kept the information from Gwenfan. But she must not be kept in ignorance longer than can be helped; and since you have opened your mind freely to me, I may as well tell you that at the proper time and after I have consulted your father, she is prepared to accept your hand. As her brother and guardian, I will then, my dear Roberts, give her to you. I know you will watch over her with the deepest affection and solicitude. In this matter I have only one request to make, which I am sure will be readily granted. Will you promise?”

“To me, dear friend, you will is law.”

“My request is a simple one, namely, that your marriage be deferred for a time?”

“You are too cruel to defer the day of my being made perfectly happy.”

“But for your and her sake I think there should be reasonable delay. It is true your father is a rich man, but for the present you are simply a son of a city prince. Possibly he might give you £1000 a year, but I should like to see you in business yourself before you settle down. Then my dear sister is young: only little over eighteen years. Three or four years is not long to wait.”

“For the present I will not argue the point with you, you will learn that I am not in the position you fancy I am. I cannot explain myself further now, but when we return to town, you, dear Cadwgan, will know all. Others will reveal facts to you which I am bound to keep secret.”

“Well, well, we’ll talk on this matter again. We must now return to the Villa, and make our arrangements for our immediate return to London. Early to-morrow morning we must leave, otherwise we shall arrive at the warehouse on the day our leave expires.”

During the evening, Mr. Roberts and Gwenfan had a long conversation. When he returned to the library to join Cadwgan, he whispered, “It is all settled; I’m now happy.”

In the following August, Miss Wynn and her aunt paid a long visit to London. During their stay, they were frequent visitors at Mr. Roberts’ urban mansion. The more he saw of the gentle, quiet, and lovely Gwenfan, the more he liked her; and when the time came when those loving hearts were to be made one, he took his son’s and future daughter’s hands in his, saying, “Be true to each other; and you, my son, guard this beautiful Cambrian plant, for I am persuaded she is worth her weight in gold. You, Rhys, have made a wise choice, I would rather have Gwenfan for my daughter than a princess of the royal blood. May Heaven bless your union!”

We now pass over a brief period of history. Mr. Roberts had now ceased to be a partner in the firm. From the date of Mr. Wynn joining the firm until Mr. Roberts’ retirement, the house had prospered year after year. The partners became wealthy men, were of high repute in the city, and Mr. Wynn, who was considered the soul of the business, was looked up to as a man almost unequalled for business talents, while his word was regarded as law by all with whom he had any mercantile transactions.

Of Mr. Roberts’ intended retirement, Mr. Wynn knew nothing until the very morning it was carried out. When they met in the former’s private office, he asked,—

“How many years, Mr. Wynn, has our partnership lasted?”

“Five years, sir.”

“How long have you been with me?”

“Ten years to-day, sir, I entered your service.”

“Oh, how rapidly the time passes! Well I have to thank my heavenly Father for having directed your footsteps here. You have proved yourself a faithful friend, since the date of our partnership. By your tact, judgment, business habits, industry, and integrity, you have raised our house to the highest commercial position. You are almost as dear to me, Cadwgan, as if you were my own child.”

“From you,” replied Mr. Wynn, “I have received the greatest kindness and consideration. To me you have been a second father. No parent could have shown a deeper interest in a son than you have shown in me.”“As you are now a rich man, Cadwgan, why don’t you seek a wife. I’m sure you would be a better and happier man?”

“I have, Mr. Roberts, anticipated your wish.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Cadwgan, though you surprise me. I was not aware of your having fixed your heart on any young lady. I hope she is worthy of you.”

“From you, sir, I keep nothing. The lady is Miss Jones; she has accepted my offer, and her parents have given their consent to our union.”

“I’m glad to hear this, for your sake and hers. Jones is a capital fellow, and his daughter is a noble girl. She has in her own right a splendid fortune, and her father must be a rich man. She will make you an excellent wife. Her fortune is in the funds, and if necessary you could turn it to immediate account. I hope you will get back the old place.

“Now, Mr. Wynn, as you have told me your secret, I see no reason why I should withhold from you mine. I, too, am about to contract a marriage; I do not find it good to be alone; I am going to be wedded to my first love. Strange to say, her name is Wynn. Do you know any lady in your parts of North Wales of that name?”

“Indeed, sir, I don’t at present recollect any lady of the name of Wynn.”

“Try, Cadwgan, and remember. My impression is you must remember; she is acquainted with you.”

“Surely, Mr. Roberts, you don’t refer to my aunt?”

“I do though. Are you willing to give her to me?”

“Most willing, sir, as far as I am concerned.”

“Then you are pleased at the prospect of a closer connection between us? You have placed me in possession of your feeling. Now please give me the reason of its existence?”

“That I will do, sir, in a few words. Though she is my aunt, and the only relative I have in the world, except my dear sister, I must say that she is one of the kindest and best of women. I am sure she will make you happy. But, sir, I did not know you had ever seen my aunt until she came to visit me in London?”

“Miss Wynn was my earliest love. I proposed to her, but her brother, your dear father, objected to our union. I left for London immediately afterwards, got married, settled down in business, but from the day of my departure until her visit to you we never met. Mr. Jones was fully aware of the circumstance of my being rejected. It was, indeed, the fact of my proposal of which Jones took advantage to plead so persistently for you when he wished you to come here. Little did I know then what a noble boy you were, what a treasure I was to have in you. But let that pass: I have one favour to ask you. Will you grant it?”

“Yes, sir, to the extent of every penny I possess.”

“Will you consent to be married on the same day as myself? And we will arrange that Rhys and your sister shall also be united on the occasion. Next, will you sign that parchment, without asking any question, or examining its contents? you can make yourself acquainted with the particulars hereafter.”

“Heartily I say yes, to your questions.”

“My dear boy, I thank you from my heart of hearts for your goodness and confidence. The document contains a dissolution of partnership so far as I am concerned. You, and your future brother are now the owners of everything here.”

“Mr. Roberts,” replied Cadwgan, with tears in his eyes, “how can I ever repay you for so noble and so generous an act?”

“My dear boy, you have already repaid me with your grateful tear, by your ten years of faithful services, and by the splendid gift of your aunt. There is the ledger, which you can scan at leisure. You will find the facts fully set forth. Here is a mortgage deed for £50,000,—a sum which simply represents your share of the profits of the business during the period of our partnership. The other mortgagee is your intended father-in-law, who has invested his daughter’s fortune in the same property as her trustee and guardian. The two sums amount to £115,000, which are secured on your paternal estate, Wynn Castle. On the day of your marriage, the estate, which has been greatly improved since your poor father’s death, will be conveyed to you as sole owner, by cancelling those deeds. How this matter has been arranged it is not necessary for you to know. I rejoice beyond measure in your being about to take possession of your lost inheritance, and to regain it by means so honourable to yourself. My prayer shall be that Heaven will bless you with health and prosperity, and that you may long live to enjoy it. I have now done my day’s work, so for the present must wish you good morning. We shall soon meet again.”

But few additional words are necessary to complete this history. In a few months after the above interview, Mr. Roberts, Mr. Roberts junior, and Cadwgan were married to the ladies of their choice.

During a portion of each summer, Mr. and Mrs. Cadwgan Wynn, and Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, senior and junior spent several weeks at Wynn Castle, where Mr. and Mrs. Owen Jones had taken up their permanent abode. The various tenants on the estate rejoiced in possessing such an excellent landlord, but their joy was unbounded on the morning the news reached them of the birth of a son and heir. On the return to the castle after this event, his tenantry presented him with an address, to which he replied as follows:—

“Friends and neighbours,—After many years of exile from the land of my birth and the home of my father’s sepulchre, I feel it my first duty to return my gratitude to Him who guides and directs the destiny of us all, for having in His good and merciful providence again directed my footsteps to the land of my love and my warmest affection. Twelve years to day I went out in the wide world, poor and almost penniless. I resolved, with Heaven’s help, to succeed, that is if success could be achieved by honesty, integrity, and plodding. After wandering about London for several days, I found myself one summer evening on London Bridge, faint, anxious, and sick, with but a few shillings in my pocket. Just as I was about to settle down to sleep on the cold stone, a good Welsh Samaritan who was passing by had compassion on the forlorn one, and took me to his home. Strange to say, his noble daughter fell in love with me, poor and friendless though I was. That lady is my wife and the mother of my son. I might tell you that her love for dear old Cambria is as deep and as intense as is her love for her offspring. Moreover, her heart is full of sympathy for the sons and daughters of human suffering wherever found, and she will consider it not only a pleasure but a duty to visit and administer consolation and solace to the distressed in this beautiful valley. But, says my friend on my right, you must not remain idle; you have work to do. My dear friend, the Rev. Thomas Charles, who is an honour to our country, is doing much for the intellectual, moral, and religious welfare of the people. You ought to support his efforts by every means in your power. Him I will aid with my purse and influence. I hope in this effort we shall be united, conformists and nonconformists, joining hand in hand and heart with heart, so that our people may become an intelligent and religious people. To bring about such a glorious consummation is the chief desire of my soul. I have only one more word to add, that is to thank you for your beautiful address. Be assured that I and my wife will endeavour to earn your good opinion. We will try to promote your commercial welfare, and with it your highest interest.”

* * * * *

McLiver in due time was brought before the bar of justice, and his guilt having been clearly established, was banished the kingdom. After undergoing ten years of punishment in Van Diemen’s Land, he obtained his release, and settled down in one of the Australian colonies as a small farmer. His uncle and cousin were finally apprehended, and being found guilty were transported. Donald was allowed to go free, as his guilt could not be legally established. Some years afterwards Mr. Wynn learned that he was engaged in the fish trade in one of the Orkney Islands.