"Go from here," Towy gruntled. "A sweat is in my whiskers. Inhabitants, why isn't his tongue a red-hot poker?... Well, boys Palace, grand this is. Say who you are?" he asked one whose face shone like a mirror. "Respected Towy-Watkins am I."
He whose face shone like a polished mirror answered that he was Moses the Keeper of the Balance. "The Lord is in the Cloud," he said.
Towy addressed the Cloud, which was the breadth of a man's hand, and which was brighter than the golden halo of the throne: "Big Man, peep at your helper. Was not I a ruler over the capel? Religious were my prayers."
"I did not hear any," said God.
"Mistake. Mistake. Towy bach eloquent was I called. Here am I with the Speech, and the Speech is God and Godis the Speech. Take you as a great gift this nice hymn-book."
"What are hymns?" asked God.
"Moses, Moses," cried Towy, "explain affairs to Him."
God spoke: "Satan, render your account of the mischief you made these men do."
"This is a travesty of the traditions of the House," said Ben. "Traditions that are dear to me, being taught them at my mother's knees. I refuse to be drenched in Satan's froth. Against one who was a member of the Government you are taking the evidence of the most discredited man in the universe—the world's worst sinner."
He ceased, because Satan had begun to read; and Satan read rapidly, with shame, and without pantomime, not pausing at what times he was abused and charged with lying; and he read correctly, for the Records Clerk followed him word by word in the Book of the Watchers; and for everysin to which he confessed Moses placed a scarlet tablet in the scale of wickedness.
"I will attend to what I have heard," said the Lord when Satan had finished. "Put your tablets in the scale and go into the Chamber."
Ben and Towy withdrew, and as they passed out they beheld that the scale of scarlet tablets touched the ground.
Then the Cloud vanished and God came out of the Cloud.
"My wrath is fierce," He said. "Bind these Welsh and torment them with vipers and with fire in the uttermost parts of Hell. They shall have no more remembrance before me."
"Will you destroy the just?" asked Moses.
"They have chosen."
"Shall the godly perish because of the godless?"
"I flooded the world," said God.
"The righteous Noah and his house and his animals you did not destroy. Andyou repented that you smote every living thing. May not my Lord repent again?"
"I am not destroying every living thing," God replied. "I am destroying the vile."
"Remember Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot's wife and his daughters. They all sinned after their deliverance. The doings of Sodom stayed."
Moses also said: "You gave your ear to Jonah from the well of the sea."
"I sacrificed my Son for man."
"And loosed Satan upon him."
"Is scarlet white?" asked God.
"Is justice the fruit of injustice? The two men were not of the Church, and the Church may be holy in your sight."
"I have judged."
"And your judgment is past understanding," said Moses, and he sat at the Balance.
The servants of the Lord spoke one with another: "I cannot eat of the supper," said one; "The songs will be as awolf's howlings in the wilderness," said another; "The honey will be as bittersweet as Adam's apple," said a third. But Satan exclaimed: "Come, let us seek in the Book of the Watchers for an act that will turn Him from His purpose."
In seeking, some put their fingers on the leaves and advised Moses to cry unto the Lord in such and such a manner.
"My voice is dumb," replied Moses.
Satan presently astonished the servants; he took the book to the Lord. "My Lord," he said, "which is the more precious—good or evil?"
"Good," said the Lord.
"More precious than the riches of Solomon is a deed done in your name?"
"Yes."
"Though the sins were as numerous as the teeth of a shoal of fish?"
"So. Unravel your riddle."
"An old woman of the Dissenters," said Satan, "claimed four tablets, whereas her deeds were nine."
God looked at the Balance and lo, the scale of white tablets was heavier than the scale of scarlet tablets.
"Bid hither the apostles," He commanded the Overseer, "for they shall see me, and this day they and their flocks shall be in Paradise."
Satan stood before the face of Moses, glowing as the angels; and he brought out scissors to clip off the fringe of his beard. When he had cut only a little, the Overseer entered the Judgment Hall, saying: "The two apostles tricked Jude and crawled under the barrier, and they shot back the bolts of the gate of the Chariot House and called a charioteer to take them to Heaven. 'This is God's will,' they said to him."
Satan's scissors fell on the floor.
Because he was diseased with a consumption, Evan Roberts in his thirtieth year left over being a drapery assistant and had himself hired as a milk roundsman.
A few weeks thereafter he said to Mary, the woman whom he had promised to wed: "How now if I had a milk-shop?"
Mary encouraged him, and searched for that which he desired; and it came to be that on a Thursday afternoon they two met at the mouth of Worship Street—the narrow lane that is at the going into Richmond.
"Stand here, Marri," Evan ordered. "Go in will I and have words with the owner. Hap I shall uncover his tricks."
"Very well you are," said Mary. "Don't over-waggle your tongue. Address him in hidden phrases."
Evan entered the shop, and as there was no one therein he made an account of the tea packets and flour bags which were on the shelves. Presently a small, fat woman stood beyond the counter. Evan addressed her in English: "Are you Welsh?"
"That's what people say," the woman answered.
"Glad am I to hear you," Evan returned in Welsh. "Tell me how you was."
"A Cymro bach I see," the woman cried. "How was you?"
"Peeped did I on your name on the sign. Shall I say you are Mistress Jinkins?"
"Iss, indeed, man."
"What about affairs these close days?"
"Busy we are. Why for you ask? Trade you do in milk?"
"Blurt did I for nothing," Evan replied.
"No odds, little man. Ach y fy, jealous other milkmen are of us. There's nasty some people are."
"Natty shop you have. Little shop and big traffic, Mistress Jinkins?"
"Quick you are."
"Know you Tom Mathias Tabernacle Street?" Evan inquired.
"Seen him have I in the big meetings at Capel King's Cross."
"Getting on he is, for certain sure. Hundreds of pints he sells. And groceries."
"Pwf," Mrs. Jenkins sneered. "Fulbert you are to believe him. A liar without shame is Twm. And a cheat. Bad sampler he is of the Welsh."
"Speak I do as I hear. More thriving is your concern."
"No boast is in me. But don't we do thirty gallons?"
Evan summoned up surprise into his face, and joy. "Dear me to goodness," he exclaimed. "Take something must I now. Sell you me an egg."
Evan shook the egg at his ear. "She is good," he remarked.
"Weakish is the male," observed Mrs. Jenkins. "Much trouble he has in his inside."
"Poor bach," replied Evan. "Well-well. Fair night for to-day."
"Why for you are in a hurry?"
"Woman fach, for what you do not know that I abide in Wandsworth and the clock is late?"
Mrs. Jenkins laughed. "Boy pretty sly you are. Come you to Richmond to buy one egg."
Evan coughed and spat upon the ground, and while he cleaned away his spittle with a foot he said: "Courting business have I on the Thursdays. The wench is in a shop draper."
"How shall I mouth where she is? With Wright?"
"In shop Breach she is." He spoke this in English: "So long."
In that language also did Mrs. Jenkins answer him: "Now we shan't be long."
Narrowing his eyes and crooking hisknees, Evan stood before Mary. "Like to find out more would I," he said. "Guess did the old female that I had seen the adfertissment."
"Blockhead you are to bare your mind," Mary admonished him.
"Why for you call me blockhead when there's no blockhead to be?"
"Sorry am I, dear heart. But do you hurry to marry me. You know that things are so and so. The month has shown nothing."
"Shut your head, or I'll change my think altogether."
The next week Evan called at the dairy shop again.
"How was the people?" he cried on the threshold.
Mrs. Jenkins opened the window which was at the back of her, and called out: "The boy from Wales is here, Dai."
Stooping as he moved through the way of the door, Dai greeted Evan civilly: "How was you this day?"
"Quite grand," Evan answered.
"What capel do you go?"
"Walham Green, dear man."
"Good preach there was by the Respected Eynon Daviss the last Sabbath morning, shall I ask? Eloquent is Eynon."
"In the night do I go."
"Solemn serious, go you ought in the mornings."
"Proper is your saying," Evan agreed. "Perform I would if I could."
"Biggish is your round, perhaps?" said Dai.
"Iss-iss. No-no." Evan was confused.
"Don't be afraid of your work. Crafty is your manner."
Evan had not anything to say.
"Fortune there is in milk," said Dai. "Study you the size of her. Little she is. Heavy will be my loss. The rent is only fifteen bob a week. And thirty gallons and more do I do. Broke is my health,"and Dai laid the palms of his hands on his belly and groaned.
"Here he is to visit his wench," said Mrs. Jenkins.
"You're not married now just?" asked Dai.
"Better in his pockets trousers is a male for a woman," said Mrs. Jenkins.
"Comforting in your pockets trousers is a woman," Dai cried.
"Clap your throat," said Mrs. Jenkins. "Redness you bring to my skin."
Evan retired and considered.
"Tempting is the business," he told Mary. "Fancy do I to know more of her. Come must I still once yet."
"Be not slothful," Mary pleaded. "Already I feel pains, and quickly the months pass."
Then Evan charged her to watch over the shop, and to take a count of the people who went into it. So Mary walked in the street. Mrs. Jenkins saw her and imagined her purpose, and after she had provedher, she and Dai formed a plot whereby many little children and young youths and girls came into the shop. Mary numbered every one, but the number that she gave Evan was three times higher than the proper number. The man was pleased, and he spoke out to Dai. "Tell me the price of the shop," he said.
"Improved has the health," replied Dai. "And not selling I don't think am I."
"Pity that is. Great offer I have."
"Smother your cry. Taken a shop too have I in Petersham. Rachel will look after this."
Mrs. Jenkins spoke to her husband with a low voice: "Witless you are. Let him speak figures."
"As you want if you like then," said Dai.
"A puzzle you demand this one minute," Evan murmured. "Thirty pounds would—"
"Light is your head," Dai cried.
"More than thirty gallons and a pram. Eighty I want for the shop and stock."
"I stop," Evan pronounced. "Thirty-five can I give. No more and no less."
"Cute bargainer you are. Generous am I to give back five pounds for luck cash on spot. Much besides is my counter trade."
"Bring me papers for my eyes to see," said Evan.
Mrs. Jenkins rebuked Evan: "Hoity-toity! Not Welsh you are. Old English boy."
"Tut-tut, Rachel fach," said Dai. "Right you are, and right and wrong is Evan Roberts. Books I should have. Trust I give and trust I take. I have no guile."
"How answer you to thirty-seven?" asked Evan. "No more we've got, drop dead and blind."
He went away and related all to Mary.
"Lose the shop you will," Mary warnedhim. "And that's remorseful you'll be."
"Like this and that is the feeling," said Evan.
"Go to him," Mary counseled, "and say you will pay forty-five."
"No-no, foolish that is."
They two conferred with each other, and Mary gave to Evan all her money, which was almost twenty pounds; and Evan said to Dai: "I am not doubtful—"
"Speak what is in you," Dai urged quickly.
"Test your shop will I for eight weeks as manager. I give you twenty down as earnest and twenty-five at the finish of the weeks if I buy her."
Dai and Rachel weighed that which Evan had proposed. The woman said: "A lawyer will do this"; the man said: "Splendid is the bargain and costly and thievish are old lawyers."
In this sort Dai answered Evan: "Do as you say. But I shall not give moneyfor your work. Act you honestly by me. Did not mam carry me next my brother, who is a big preacher? Lend you will I a bed, and a dish or two and a plate, and a knife to eat food."
At this Mary's joy was abounding. "Put you up the banns," she said.
"Lots of days there is. Wait until I've bought the place."
Mary tightened her inner garments and loosened her outer garments, and every evening she came to the shop to prepare food for Evan, to make his bed, and to minister to him as a woman.
Now the daily custom at the shop was twelve gallons of milk, and the tea packets and flour bags which were on shelves were empty. Evan's anger was awful. He upbraided Mary, and he prayed to be shown how to worst Dai. His prayer was respected: at the end of the second week he gave Dai two pounds more than he had given him the week before.
"Brisk is trade," said Dai.
"I took into stock flour, tea, and four tins of job biscuits," replied Evan. "Am I not your servant?"
"Well done, good and faithful servant."
It was so that Evan bought more than he would sell, and each week he held a little money by fraud; and matches also and bundles of firewood and soap did he buy in Dai's name.
In the middle of the eighth week Dai came down to the shop.
"How goes it?" he asked in English.
"Fine, man. Fine." Changing his language, Evan said: "Keep her will I, and give you the money as I pledged. Take you the sum and sign you the paper bach."
Having acted accordingly, Dai cast his gaze on the shelves and on the floor, and he walked about judging aloud the value of what he saw: "Tea, three-pound-ten; biscuits, four-six; flour, four-five; firewood, five shillings; matches, one-ten; soap, one pound. Bring you these to Petersham.Put you them with the bed and the dishes I kindly lent you."
"For sure me, fulfil my pledge will I," Evan said.
He assembled Dai's belongings and placed them in a cart which he had borrowed; and on the back of the cart he hung a Chinese lantern which had in it a lighted candle. When he arrived at Dai's house, he cried: "Here is your ownings. Unload you them."
Dai examined the inside of the cart. "Mistake there is, Evan. Where's the stock?"
"Did I not pay you for your stock and shop? Forgetful you are."
Dai's wrath was such that neither could he blaspheme God nor invoke His help. Removing the slabber which was gathered in his beard and at his mouth, he shouted: "Put police on you will I."
"Away must I now," said Evan. "Come, take your bed."
"Not touch anything will I. Rachel,witness his roguery. Steal he does from the religious."
Evan drove off, and presently he became uneasy of the evil that might befall him were Dai and Rachel to lay their hands on him; he led his horse into the unfamiliar and hard and steep road which goes up to the Star and Garter, and which therefrom falls into Richmond town. At what time he was at the top he heard the sound of Dai and Rachel running to him, each screaming upon him to stop. Rachel seized the bridle of the horse, and Dai tried to climb over the back of the cart. Evan bent forward and beat the woman with his whip, and she leaped aside. But Dai did not release his clutch, and because the lantern swayed before his face he flung it into the cart.
Evan did not hear any more voices, and misdeeming that he had got the better of his enemies, he turned, and, lo, the bed was in a yellow flame. He strengthened his legs and stretched out his thin upperlip, and pulled at the reins, saying: "Wo, now." But the animal thrust up its head and on a sudden galloped downwards. At the railing which divides two roads it was hindered, and Evan was thrown upon the ground. Men came forward to lift him, and he was dead.
At the time it was said of him "There's a boy that gets on he is," Enoch Harries was given Gwen the daughter of the builder Dan Thomas. On the first Sunday after her marriage the people of Kingsend Welsh Tabernacle crowded about Gwen, asking her: "How like you the bed, Messes Harries fach?" "Enoch has opened a shop butcher then?" "Any signs of a baban bach yet?" "Managed to get up quickly you did the day?" Gwen answered in the manner the questions were asked, seriously or jestingly. She considered these sayings, and the cause of her uneasiness was not a puzzle to her; and she got to despise the man whom she had married, and whose skin was like parched leather, and to repel his impotent embraces.
Withal she gave Enoch pleasure. She clothed herself with costly garments, adorned her person with rings and ornaments, and she modeled her hair in the way of a bob-wig. Enoch gave in to her in all things; he took her among Welsh master builders, drapers, grocers, dairymen, into their homes and such places as they assembled in; and his pride in his wife was nearly as great as his pride in the twenty plate-glass windows of his shop.
In her vanity Gwen exalted her estate.
"I hate living over the shop," she said. "It's so common. Let's take a house away from here."
"Good that I am on the premizes," Enoch replied in Welsh. "Hap go wrong will affairs if I leave."
"We can't ask any one decent here. Only commercials," Gwen said. With a show of care for her husband's welfare, she added: "Working too hard is my boybach. And very splendid you should be."
Her design was fulfilled, and she and Enoch came to dwell in Thornton East, in a house near Richmond Park, and on the gate before the house, and on the door of the house, she put the name Windsor. From that hour she valued herself high. She had the words Mrs. G. Enos-Harries printed on cards, and she did not speak of Enoch's trade in the hearing of anybody. She gave over conversing in Welsh, and would give no answer when spoken to in that tongue. She devised means continually to lift herself in the esteem of her neighbors, acting as she thought they acted: she had a man-servant and four maid-servants, and she instructed them to address her as the madam and Enoch as the master; she had a gong struck before meals and a bell rung during meals; the furniture in her rooms was as numerous as that in the windows of a shop; she went to the parish church on Sundays; shemade feasts. But her life was bitter: tradespeople ate at her table and her neighbors disregarded her.
Enoch mollified her moaning with: "Never mind. I could buy the whole street up. I'll have you a motor-car. Fine it will be with an advert on the front engine."
Still slighted, Gwen smoothed her misery with deeds. She declared she was a Liberal, and she frequented Thornton Vale English Congregational Chapel. She gave ten guineas to the rebuilding fund, put a carpet on the floor of the pastor's parlor, sang at brotherhood gatherings, and entertained the pastor and his wife.
Wherefore her charity was discoursed thus: "Now when Peter spoke of a light that shines—shines, mark you—he was thinking of such ladies as Mrs. G. Enos-Harries. Not forgetting Mr. G. Enos-Harries."
"I'm going to build you a vestry,"Gwen said to the pastor. "I'll organize a sale of work to begin with."
The vestry was set up, and Gwen bethought of one who should be charged with the opening ceremony of it, and to her mind came Ben Lloyd, whose repute was great among the London Welsh, and to whose house in Twickenham she rode in her car. Ben's wife answered her sharply: "He's awfully busy. And I know he won't see visitors."
"But won't you tell him? It will do him such a lot of good. You know what a stronghold of Toryism this place is."
A voice from an inner room cried: "Who is to see me?"
"Come this way," said Mrs. Lloyd.
Ben, sitting at a table with writing paper and a Bible before him, rose.
"Messes Enos-Harries," he said, "long since I met you. No odds if I mouth Welsh? There's a language, dear me. This will not interest you in the least. Put your ambarelo in the cornel, MessesEnos-Harries, and your backhead in a chair. Making a lecture am I."
Gwen told him the errand upon which she was bent, and while they two drank tea, Ben said: "Sing you a song, Messes Enos-Harries. Not forgotten have I your singing in Queen's Hall on the Day of David the Saint. Inspire me wonderfully you did with the speech. I've been sad too, but you are a wedded female. Sing you now then. Push your cup and saucer under the chair."
"No-no, not in tone am I," Gwen feigned.
"How about a Welsh hymn? Come in will I at the repeats."
"Messes Lloyd will sing the piano?"
"Go must she about her duties. She's a handless poor dab."
Gwen played and sang.
"Solemn pretty hymns have we," said Ben. "Are we not large?" He moved and stood under a picture which hung on the wall—his knees touching and his feetapart—and the picture was that of Cromwell. "My friends say I am Cromwell and Milton rolled into one. The Great Father gave me a child and He took him back to the Palace. Religious am I. Want I do to live my life in the hills and valleys of Wales: listening to the anthem of creation, and searching for Him under the bark of the tree. And there I shall wait for the sound of the last trumpet."
"A poet you are." Gwen was astonished.
"You are a poetess, for sure me," Ben said. He leaned over her. "Sparkling are your eyes. Deep brown are they—brown as the nut in the paws of the squirrel. Be you a bard and write about boys Cymru. Tell how they succeed in big London."
"I will try," said Gwen.
"Like you are and me. Think you do as I think."
"Know you for long I would," said Gwen.
"For ever," cried Ben. "But wedded you are. Read you a bit of the lecturewill I." Having ended his reading and having sobbed over and praised that which he had read, Ben uttered: "Certain you come again. Come you and eat supper when the wife is not at home."
Gwen quaked as she went to her car, and she sought a person who professed to tell fortunes, and whom she made to say: "A gentleman is in love with you. And he loves you for your brain. He is not your husband. He is more to you than your husband. I hear his silver voice holding spellbound hundreds of people; I see his majestic forehead and his auburn locks and the strands of his silken mustache."
Those words made Gwen very happy, and she deceived herself that they were true. She composed verses and gave them to Ben.
"Not right to Nature is this," said Ben. "The mother is wrong. How many children you have, Messes Enos-Harries?"
"Not one. The husband is weak and he is older much than I."
"The Father has kept His most beautiful gift from you. Pity that is." Tears gushed from Ben's eyes. "If the marriage-maker had brought us together, children we would have jeweled with your eyes and crowned with your hair."
"And your intellect," said Gwen. "You will be the greatest Welshman."
"Whisper will I now. A drag is the wife. Happy you are with the husband."
"Why for you speak like that?"
"And for why we are not married?" Ben took Gwen in his arms and he kissed her and drew her body nigh to him; and in a little while he opened the door sharply and rebuked his wife that she waited thereat.
Daily did Gwen praise and laud Ben to her husband. "There is no one in the world like him," she said. "He will get very far."
"Bring Mistar Lloyd to Windsor for me to know him quite well," said Enoch.
"I will ask him," Gwen replied without faltering.
"Benefit myself I will."
Early every Thursday afternoon Ben arrived at Windsor, and at the coming home from his shop of Enoch, Ben always said: "Messes Enos-Harries has been singing the piano. Like the trilling of God's feathered choir is her music."
Though Ben and Gwen were left at peace they could not satisfy nor crush their lust.
Before three years were over, Ben had obtained great fame. "He ought to be in Parliament and give up preaching entirely," some said; and Enoch and Gwen were partakers of his glory.
Then Gwen told him that she had conceived, whereof Ben counseled her to go into her husband's bed.
"That I have not the stomach to do," the woman complained.
"As you say, dear heart," said Ben. "Cancer has the wife. Perish soon shemust. Ease our path and lie with your lout."
Presently Gwen bore a child; and Enoch her husband looked at it and said: "Going up is Ben Lloyd. Solid am I as the counter."
Gwen related her fears to Ben, who contrived to make Enoch a member of the London County Council. Enoch rejoiced: summoning the congregation of Thornton Vale to be witnesses of his gift of a Bible cushion to the chapel.
As joy came to him, so grief fell upon his wife. "After all," Ben wrote to her, "you belong to him. You have been joined together in the holiest and sacredest matrimony. Monumental responsibilities have been thrust on me by my people. I did not seek for them, but it is my duty to bear them. Pray that I shall use God's hoe with understanding and wisdom. There is a talk of putting me up for Parliament. Others will have a chanse of electing a real religious man. I must not be tempted byyou again. Well, good-by, Gwen, may He keep you unspotted from the world. Ships that pass in the night."
Enoch was plagued, and he followed Ben to chapel meetings, eisteddfodau, Cymrodorion and St. David's Day gatherings, always speaking in this fashion: "Cast under is the girl fach you do not visit her. Improved has her singing."
Because Ben was careless of his call, his wrath heated and he said to him: "Growing is the baban."
"How's trade?" Ben remarked. "Do you estimate for Government contracts?"
"Not thought have I."
"Just hinted. A word I can put in."
"Red is the head of the baban."
"Two black heads make red," observed Ben.
"And his name is Benjamin."
"As you speak. Farewell for to-day. How would you like to put up for a Welsh constituency?"
"Not deserving am I of anything.Happy would I and the wife be to see you in the House."
But Ben's promise was fruitless; and Enoch bewailed: "A serpent flew into my house."
He ordered Gwen to go to Ben.
"Recall to him this and that," he said. "A very good advert an M.P. would be for the business. Be you dressed like a lady. Take a fur coat on appro from the shop."
Often thereafter he bade his wife to take such a message. But Gwen had overcome her distress and she strew abroad her charms; for no man could now suffice her. So she always departed to one of her lovers and came back with fables on her tongue.
"What can you expect of the Welsh?" cried Enoch in his wrath. "He hasn't paid for the goods he got on tick from the shop. County court him will I. He ate my food. The unrighteous ate the food of the righteous. And he was bad withyou. Did I not watch? No good is the assistant that lets the customer go away with not a much obliged."
The portion of the Bible that Enoch read that night was this: "I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt.... Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning: let us solace ourselves with love. For the goodman is not at home, he is gone on a long journey. He hath—"
"That's lovely," said Gwen.
"Tapestry from my shop," Enoch expounded. "And Irish linen. And busy was the draper in Kingsend."
Gwen pretended to be asleep.
"He is the father. That will learn him to keep his promise. The wicked man!"
Unknown to her husband Gwen stood before Ben; and at the sight of her Ben longed to wanton with her. Gwen stretched out her arms to be clear of him and to speak to him; her speech wasstopped with kisses and her breasts swelled out. Again she found pleasure in Ben's strength.
Then she spoke of her husband's hatred.
"Like a Welshman every spit he is," said Ben. "And a black."
But his naughtiness oppressed him for many days and he intrigued; and it came to pass that Enoch was asked to contest a Welsh constituency, and Enoch immediately let fall his anger for Ben.
"Celebrate this we shall with a reception in the Town Hall," he announced. "You, Gwen fach, will wear the chikest Paris model we can find. Ben's kindness is more than I expected. Much that I have I owe to him."
"Even your son," said Gwen.
On a day in a dry summer Sheremiah's wife Catrin drove her cows to drink at the pistil which is in the field of a certain man. Hearing of that which she had done, the man commanded his son: "Awful is the frog to open my gate. Put you the dog and bitch on her. Teach her will I."
It was so; and Sheremiah complained: "Why for is my spring barren? In every field should water be."
"Say, little husband, what is in your think?" asked Catrin.
"Stupid is your head," Sheremiah answered, "not to know what I throw out. Going am I to search for a wet farm fach."
Sheremiah journeyed several ways, andalways he journeyed in secret; and he could not find what he wanted. Tailor Club Foot came to sit on his table to sew together garments for him and his two sons. The tailor said: "Farm very pretty is Rhydwen. Farm splendid is the farm fach."
"And speak like that you do, Club Foot," said Sheremiah.
"Iss-iss," the tailor mumbled.
"Not wanting an old farm do I," Sheremiah cried. "But speak to goodness where the place is. Near you are, calf bach, about affairs."
The tailor answered that Rhydwen is in the hollow of the hill which arises from Capel Sion to the moor.
In the morning Sheremiah rode forth on his colt, and he said to Shan Rhydwen: "Boy of a pigger am I, whatever."
"Dirt-dirt, man," Shan cried; "no fat pigs have I, look you."
"Mournful that is. Mouthings have I heard about grand pigs Tyhen. No odds,wench. Farewell for this minute, female Tyhen."
"Pigger from where you are?" Shan asked.
"From Pencader the horse has carried me. Carry a preacher he did the last Monday."
"Weary you are, stranger. Give hay to your horse, and rest you and take you a little cup of tea."
"Happy am I to do that. Thirsty is the backhead of my neck."
Sheremiah praised the Big Man for tea, bread, butter, and cheese, and while he ate and drank he put artful questions to Shan. In the evening he said to Catrin: "Quite tidy is Rhydwen. Is she not one hundred acres? And if there is not water in every field, is there not in four?"
He hastened to the owner of Rhydwen and made this utterance: "Farmer very ordinary is your sister Shan. Shamed was I to examine your land."
"I shouldn't be surprised," answeredthe owner. "Speak hard must I to the trollop."
"Not handy are women," said Sheremiah. "Sell him to me the poor-place. Three-fourths of the cost I give in yellow money and one-fourth by-and-by in three years."
Having taken over Rhydwen, Sheremiah in due season sold much of his corn and hay, some of his cattle, and many such movable things as were in his house or employed in tillage; and he and Catrin came to abide in Rhydwen; and they arrived with horses in carts, cows, a bull and oxen, and their sons, Aben and Dan. As they passed Capel Sion, people who were gathered at the roadside to judge them remarked how that Aben was blind in his left eye and that Dan's shoulders were as high as his ears.
At the finish of a round of time Sheremiah hired out his sons and all that they earned he took away from them; and he and Catrin toiled to recover Rhydwenfrom its slovenry. After he had paid all that he owed for the place, and after Catrin had died of dropsy, he called his sons home.
Thereon he thrived. He was over all on the floor of Sion, even those in the Big Seat. Men in debt and many widow-women sought him to free them, and in freeing them he made compacts to his advantage. Thus he came to have more cattle than Rhydwen could hold, and he bought Penlan, the farm of eighty acres which goes up from Rhydwen to the edge of the moor, and beyond.
In quiet seasons he and Aben and Dan dug ditches on the land of Rhydwen; "so that," he said, "my creatures shall not perish of thirst."
Of a sudden a sickness struck him, and in the hush which is sometimes before death, he summoned to him his sons. "Off away am I to the Palace," he said.
"Large will be the shout of joy among the angels," Aben told him.
"And much weeping there will be in Sion," said Dan. "Speak you a little verse for a funeral preach."
"Cease you your babblings, now, indeed," Sheremiah demanded. "Born first you were, Aben, and you get Rhydwen. And you, Dan, Penlan."
"Father bach," Aben cried, "not right that you leave more to me than Dan."
"Crow you do like a cuckoo," Dan admonished his brother. "Wise you are, father. Big already is your giving to me."
Aben looked at the window and he beheld a corpse candle moving outward through the way of the gate. "Religious you lived, father Sheremiah, and religious you put on a White Shirt." Then Aben spoke of the sight he had seen.
The old man opened his lips, counseling: "Hish, hish, boys. Break you trenches in Penlan, Dan. Poor bad are farms without water. More than everything is water." He died, and his sons washed him and clothed him in a WhiteShirt of the dead, and clipped off his long beard, which ceasing to grow, shall not entwine his legs and feet and his arms and hands on the Day of Rising; and they bowed their heads in Sion for the full year.
Dan and Aben lived in harmony. They were not as brothers, but as strangers; neighborly and at peace. They married wives, by whom they had children, and they sat in the Big Seat in Sion. They mowed their hay and reaped their corn at separate periods, so that one could help the other; if one needed the loan of anything he would borrow it from his brother; if one's heifer strayed into the pasture of the other, the other would say: "The Big Man will make the old grass grow." On the Sabbath they and their children walked as in procession to Sion.
In accordance with his father's word, Dan dug ditches in Penlan; and against the barnyard—which is at the forehead of his house—water sprang up, and he causedit to run over his water-wheel into his pond.
Now there fell upon this part of Cardiganshire a season of exceeding drought. The face of the earth was as the face of a cancerous man. There was no water in any of the ditches of Rhydwen and none in those of Penlan. But the spring which Dan had found continued to yield, and from it Aben's wife took away water in pitchers and buckets; and to the pond Aben brought his animals.
One day Aben spoke to Dan in this wise: "Serious sure, an old bother is this."
"Iss-iss," replied Dan. "Good is the Big Man to allow us water bach."
"How speech you if I said: 'Unfasten your pond and let him flow into my ditches'?"
"The land will suck him before he goes far," Dan answered.
Aben departed; and he considered: "Did not Penlan belong to Sheremiah? Travelunder would the water and hap spout up in my close. Nice that would be. Nasty is the behavior of Dan and there's sly is the job."
To Dan he said: "Open your pond, man, and let the water come into the ditches which father Sheremiah broke."
Dan would not do as Aben desired, wherefore Aben informed against him in Sion, crying: "Little Big Man, know you not what a Turk is the fox? One eye bach I have, but you have two, and can see all his wickedness. Make you him pay the cost." He raised his voice so high that the congregation could not discern the meaning thereof, and it shouted as one person: "Wo, now, boy Sheremiah! What is the matter, say you?"
The anger which Aben nourished against Dan waxed hot. Rain came, and it did not abate, and the man plotted mischief to his brother's damage. In heavy darkness he cut the halters which held Dan's cows and horses to their stalls and drovethe animals into the road. He also poisoned pond Penlan, and a sheep died before it could be killed and eaten.
Dan wept very sore. "Take you the old water," he said. "Fat is my sorrow."
"Not religious you are," Aben censured him. "All the water is mine."
"Useful he is to me," Dan replied. "Like would I that he turns my wheel as he goes to you."
"Clap your mouth," answered Aben.
"Not as much as will go through the leg of a smoking pipe shall you have."
In Sion Aben told the Big Man of all the benefits which he had conferred upon Dan.
Men and women encouraged his fury; some said this: "An old paddy is Dan to rob your water. Ach y fi"; and some said this: "A dirty ass is the mule." His fierce wrath was not allayed albeit Dan turned the course of the water away from his pond, and on his knees and at his labor asked God that peace might come.
"Bury the water," Aben ordered, "and fill in the ditch, Satan."
"That will I do speedily," Dan answered in his timidity. "Do you give me an hour fach, for is not the sowing at hand?" Aben would not hearken unto his brother. He deliberated with a lawyer, and Dan was made to dig a ditch straightway from the spring to the close of Rhydwen, and he put pipes in the bottom of the ditch, and these pipes he covered with gravel and earth.
So as Dan did not sow, he had nothing to reap; and people mocked him in this fashion: "Come we will and gather in your harvest, Dan bach." He held his tongue, because he had nothing to say. His affliction pressed upon him so heavily that he would not be consoled and he hanged himself on a tree; and his body was taken down at the time of the morning stars.
A man ran to Rhydwen and related to Aben the manner of Dan's death. Abenwent into a field and sat as one astonished until the light of day paled. Then he arose, shook himself, and set to number the ears of wheat which were in his field.
God grants prayers gladly. In the moment that Death was aiming at him a missile of down, Hughes-Jones prayed: "Bad I've been. Don't let me fall into the Fiery Pool. Give me a brief while and a grand one I'll be for the religion." A shaft of fire came out of the mouth of the Lord and the shaft stood in the way of the missile, consuming it utterly; "so," said the Lord, "are his offenses forgotten."
"Is it a light thing," asked Paul, "to defy the Law?"
"God is merciful," said Moses.
"Is the Kingdom for such as pray conveniently?"
"This," Moses reproved Paul, "iswritten in a book: 'The Lord shall judge His people.'"
Yet Paul continued to dispute, the Prophets gathering near him for entertainment; and the company did not break up until God, as is the custom in Heaven when salvation is wrought, proclaimed a period of rejoicing.
Wherefore Heaven's windows, the number of which is more than that of blades of grass in the biggest hayfield, were lit as with a flame; and Heman and his youths touched their instruments with fingers and hammers and the singing angels lifted their voices in song; and angels in the likeness of young girls brewed tea in urns and angels in the likeness of old women baked pleasant breads in the heavenly ovens. Out of Hell there arose two mountains, which established themselves one over the other on the floor of Heaven, and the height of the mountains was the depth of Hell; and you could not see the sides of the mountainsfor the vast multitude of sinners thereon, and you could not see the sinners for the live coals to which they were held, and you could not see the burning coals for the radiance of the pulpit which was set on the furthermost peak of the mountain, and you could not see the pulpit—from toe to head it was of pure gold—for the shining countenance of Isaiah; and as Isaiah preached, blood issued out of the ends of his fingers from the violence with which he smote his Bible, and his single voice was louder than the lamentations of the damned.
As the Lord had enjoined, the inhabitants of Heaven rejoiced: eating and drinking, weeping and crying hosanna.
But Paul would not joy over that which the Lord had done, and soon he sought Him, and finding Him said: "A certain Roman noble labored his horses to their death in a chariot race before Cæsar: was he worthy of Cæsar's reward?"
"The noble is on the mountain-side,"God answered, "and his horses are in my chariots."
"One bears witness to his own iniquity, and you bid us feast and you say 'He shall have remembrance of me.'"
"Is there room in Heaven for a false witness?" asked God.
Again did Paul seek God. "My Lord," he entreated, "what manner of man is this that confesses his faults?"
"You will provoke my wrath," said God. "Go and be merry."
Paul's face being well turned, God moved backward into the Record Office, and of the Clerk of the Records He demanded: "Who is he that prayed unto me?"
"William Hughes-Jones," replied the Clerk.
"Has the Forgiving Angel blotted out his sins?"
"For that I have fixed a long space of time"; and the Clerk showed God eleven heavy books, on the outside of each ofwhich was written: "William Hughes-Jones, One and All Drapery Store, Hammersmith. His sins"; and God examined the books and was pleased, and He cried: "Rejoice fourfold"; and if Isaiah's roar was higher than the wailings of the perished it was now more awful than the roar of a hundred bullocks in a slaughter-house, and if Isaiah's countenance shone more than anything in Heaven, it was now like the eye of the sun.
"Of what nation is he?" the Lord inquired of the Clerk.
"The Welsh; the Welsh Nonconformists."
"Put before me their good deeds."
"There is none. William Hughes-Jones is the first of them that has prayed. Are not the builders making a chamber for the accounts of their disobedience?"
Immediately God thundered: the earth trembled and the stars shivered and fled from their courses and struck against oneanother; and God stood on the brim of the universe and stretched out a hand and a portion of a star fell into it, and that is the portion which He hurled into the garden of Hughes-Jones's house. On a sudden the revels ceased: the bread of the feast was stone and the tea water, and the songs of the angels were hushed, and the strings of the harps and viols were withered, and the hammers were dough, and the mountains sank into Hell, and behold Satan in the pulpit which was an iron cage.
The Prophets hurried into the Judgment Hall with questions, and lo God was in a cloud, and He spoke out of the cloud.
"I am angry," He said, "that Welsh Nonconformists have not heard my name. Who are the Welsh Nonconformists?" The Prophets were silent, and God mourned: "My Word is the earth and I peopled the earth with my spittle; and I appointed my Prophets to watch over mypeople, and the watchers slept and my children strayed."
Thus too said the Lord: "That hour I devour my children who have forsaken me, that hour I shall devour my Prophets."
"May be there is one righteous among us?" said Moses.
"You have all erred."
"May be there is one righteous among the Nonconformists," said Moses; "will the just God destroy him?"
"The one righteous is humbled, and I have warned him to keep my commandments."
"The sown seed brought forth a prayer," Moses pleaded; "will not the just God wait for the harvest?"
"My Lord is just," Paul announced. "They who gather wickedness shall not escape the judgment, nor shall the blind instructor be held blameless."
Moreover Paul said: "The Welsh Nonconformists have been informed of you asis proved by the man who confessed his transgressions. It is a good thing for me that I am not of the Prophets."
"I'll be your comfort, Paul," the Prophets murmured, "that you have done this to our hurt." Abasing themselves, they tore their mantles and howled; and God, piteous of their howlings, was constrained to say: "Bring me the prayers of these people and I will forget your remissness."
The Prophets ran hither and thither, wailing: "Woe. Woe. Woe."
Sore that they behaved with such scant respect, Paul herded them into the Council Room. "Is it seemly," he rebuked them, "that the Prophets of God act like madmen?"
"Our lot is awful," said they.
"The lot of the backslider is justifiably awful," was Paul's rejoinder. "You have prophesied too diligently of your own glory."
"You are learned in the Law, Paul," said Moses. "Make us waywise."
"Send abroad a messenger to preach damnation to sinners," answered Paul. "For Heaven," added he, "is the knowledge of Hell."
So it came to pass. From the hem of Heaven's Highway an angel flew into Wales; and the angel, having judged by his sight and his hearing, returned to the Council Room and testified to the godliness of the Welsh Nonconformists. "As difficult for me," he vowed, "to write the feathers of my wings as the sum of their daily prayers."
"None has reached the Record Office," said Paul.
"They are always engaged in this bright business," the angel declared, "and praising the Lord. And the number of the people is many and Heaven will need be enlarged for their coming."
"Of a surety they pray?" asked Paul.
"Of a surety. And as they pray they quake terribly."
"The Romans prayed hardly," said Paul. "But they prayed to other gods."
"Wherever you stand on their land," asserted the angel, "you see a temple."
"I exceedingly fear," Paul remarked, "that another Lord has dominion over them."
The Prophets were alarmed, and they sent a company of angels over the earth and a company under the earth; and the angels came back; one company said: "We searched the swampy marges and saw neither a god nor a heaven nor any prayer," and the other company said: "We probed the lofty emptiness and we did not touch a god or a heaven or any prayer."
Paul was distressed and he reported his misgivings to God, and God upbraided the Prophets for their sloth. "Is there no one who can do this for me?" Hecried. "Are all the cunning men in Hell? Shall I make all Heaven drink the dregs of my fury? Burnish your rusted armor. Depart into Hell and cry out: 'Is there one here who knows the Welsh Nonconformists?' Choose the most crafty and release him and lead him here."
Lots were cast and it fell to Moses to descend into Hell; and he stood at the well, the water of which is harder than crystal, and he cried out; and of the many that professed he chose Saint David, whom he brought up to God.
"Visit your people," said God to the Saint, "and bring me their prayers."
"Why should I be called?"
"It is my will. My Prophets have failed me, and if it is not done they shall be destroyed."
David laughed. "From Hell comes a savior of the Prophets. In the middle of my discourse at the Judgment Seat the Prophets stooped upon me. 'To Hell with him,' they screamed."
"Perform faithfully," said the Lord, "and you shall remain in Paradise."
"My Lord is gracious! I was a Prophet and the living believe that I am with the saints. I will retire."
"Perform faithfully and you shall be of my Prophets."
Then God took away David's body and nailed it upon a wall, and He put wings on the shoulders of his soul; and David darted through a cloud and landed on earth, and having looked at the filthiness of the Nonconformists in Wales he withdrew to London. But however actively he tried he could not find a man of God nor the destination of the fearful prayers of Welsh preachers, grocers, drapers, milkmen, lawyers, and politicians.
Loth to go to Hell and put to a nonplus, David built a nest in a tree in Richmond Park, and he paused therein to consider which way to proceed. One day he was disturbed by the singing and preaching of a Welsh soldier who had taken shelterfrom rain under the tree. David came down from his nest, and when the mouth of the man was most open, he plunged into the fellow's body. Henceforward in whatsoever place the soldier was there also was David; and the soldier carried him to a clothier's shop in Putney, the sign of the shop being written in this fashion:
J. Parker Lewis.The Little (Gents. Mercer) Wonder. Crossing the threshold, the soldier shouted: "How are you?"
The clothier, whose skin was as hide which had been scorched in a tanner's yard, bent over the counter. "Man bach," he exclaimed, "glad am I to see you. Pray will I now that you are all Zer Garnett." His thanksgiving finished, he said: "Wanting a suit you do."
"Yes, and no," replied the soldier. "Cheap she must be if yes."
"You need one for certain. Shabby you are."
"This is a friendly call. To a low-class shop must a poor tommy go."
"Do you then not be cheated by an English swindler." The clothier raised his thin voice: "Kate, here's a strange boy."
A pretty young woman, in spite of her snaggled teeth, frisked into the room like a wanton lamb. Her brown hair was drawn carelessly over her head, and her flesh was packed but loosely.
"Serious me," she cried, "Llew Eevans! Llew bach, how are you? Very big has the army made you and strong."
"Not changed you are."
"No. The last time you came was to see the rabbit."
"Dear me, yes. Have you still got her?"
"She's in the belly long ago," said the clothier.
"I have another in her stead," said Kate. "A splendid one. Would you like to fondle her?"
"Why, yez," answered the soldier.
"Drat the old animal," cried the clothier. "Too much care you give her, Kate. Seven looks has the deacon from Capel King's Cross had of her and he hasn't bought her yet."
As he spoke the clothier heaped garments on the counter.
"Put out your arms," he ordered Kate, "and take the suits to a room for Llew to try on."
Kate obeyed, and Llew hymning "Moriah" took her round the waist and embraced her, and the woman, hungering for love, gladly gave herself up. Soon attired in a black frock coat, a black waistcoat, and black trousers, Llew stepped into the shop.
"A champion is the rabbit," he said; "and very tame."
"If meat doesn't come down," said the clothier, "in the belly she'll be as well."
"Let me know before you slay her. Perhaps I buy her. I will study her again."
The clothier gazed upon Llew. "Tidy fit," he said.
"A bargain you give me."
"Why for you talk like that?" the clothier protested. "No profit can I make on a Cymro. As per invoice is the cost. And a latest style bowler hat I throw in."
Peering through Llew's body, Saint David saw that the dealer dealt treacherously, and that the money which he got for the garments was two pounds over that which was proper.
Llew walked away whistling. "A simple fellow is the black," he said to himself. "Three soverens was bad."
On the evening of the next day—that day being the Sabbath—the soldier worshiped in Capel Kingsend; and betwixt the sermon and the benediction, the preacher delivered this speech: "Very happy am I to see so many warriors here once more. We sacrificed for them quite a lot, and if they have any Christianity left in them they will not forget whatCapel Kingsend has done and will repay same with interest. Happier still we are to welcome Mister Hughes-Jones to the Big Seat. In the valley of the shadow has Mister Hughes-Jones been. Earnestly we prayed for our dear religious leader. To-morrow at seven we shall hold a prayer meeting for his cure. At seven at night. Will everybody remember? On Monday—to-morrow—at seven at night a prayer meeting for Mister Hughes-Jones will be held in Capel Kingsend. The duty of every one is to attend. Will you please say something now, zer?"
Hughes-Jones rose from the arm-chair which is under the pulpit, and thrust out his bristled chin and rested his palms on the communion table; and he said not one word.
"Mister Hughes-Jones," the preacher urged.
"I am too full of grace," said Hughes-Jones; he spoke quickly, as one who is on the verge of tears, and his big nostrilswidened and narrowed as those of one who is short of breath.
"The congregation, zer, expects—"
"Well-well, I've had a glimpse of the better land and with a clear conscience I could go there, only the Great Father has more for me to do here. A miracle happened to me. In the thick of my sickness a meetority dropped outside the bedroom. The mistress fainted slap bang. 'If this is my summons,' I said, 'I am ready.' A narrow squeak that was. I will now sit and pray for you one and all."
In the morning Llew went to the One and All and in English—that is the tongue of the high Welsh—did he address Hughes-Jones.
"I've come to start, zer," he said.
"Why wassn't you in the chapel yezterday?"
"I wass there, zer."
"Ho-ho. For me there are two people in the chapel—me and Him."
"Yez, indeed. Shall I gommence now?"
"Gommence what?"
"My crib what I leave to join up."
"Things have changed. There has been a war on, mister. They are all smart young ladies here now. And it is not right to sack them and shove them on the streets."
"But—"
"Don't answer back, or I'll have you chucked from the premizes and locked up. Much gratitude you show for all I did for the soders."
"Beg pardon, zer."
"We too did our bits at home. Slaved like horses. Me and the two sons. And they had to do work of national importance. Disgraceful I call it in a free country."
"I would be much obliged, zer, if you would take me on."
"You left on your own accord, didn't you? I never take back a hand that leaveon their own. Why don't you be patriotic and rejoin and finish up the Huns?"
Bowed down, the soldier made himself drunk, and the drink enlivened his dismettled heart; and in the evening he stole into the loft which is above the Big Seat of Capel Kingsend, purposing to disturb the praying men with loud curses.
But Llew slept, and while he slept the words of the praying men came through the ceiling like the pieces of a child's jigsaw puzzle; some floated sluggishly and fell upon the wall and the roof, and some because of their little strength did not reach above the floor; and none went through the roof. Saint David closed his hands on many, and there was no soundness in them, and they became as though they were nothing. He formed a bag of the soldier's handkerchief, and he filled it with the words, but as he drew to the edges they crumbled into less than dust.
He pondered; and he made a sack out of cobwebs, and when the sack could notcontain any more words, he wove a lid of cobwebs over the mouth of it. Jealous that no mishap should befall his treasure, he mounted a low, slow-moving cloud, and folding his wings rode up to the Gate of the Highway.