By Berwen Banks
Page 144"Oh, God," said Cardo, "Valmai to suffer all this and I not with her!"
"Where wass you, then?" said Shoni, "and why you not kom back?"
"Because I was ill in hospital. I caught typhoid fever, and I had
concussion of the brain, and I lay unconscious for many long weeks,
nay, months. As soon as I came to myself, Shoni, I came home, and I
often wished I had the wings of the birds which flew over the ship, and
would reach land before us!"
"Well, well, well," said Shoni, "I dunno what wass that illness you
had, but it must be very bad by the name of it; but whatever, my advice
to you is, go to Nance, perhaps she will tell you something, though she
won't tell nobody else."
"Yes, yes, I am going at once. Thank you, Shoni; you have been kind to
left his companion staring after him.
"Diwx anwl!" said Shoni, returning to his Welsh, "he goes like a
greyhound; good thing I didn't offer to go with him!"
Cardo made short work of the green slopes which led down to the valley,
and shorter still of the beach below. He jumped into a boat with a
scant apology to Jack Harris, the owner, who with a delighted smile of
recognition, and a polite tug at his cap, took the oar and sculled him
across.
"I am looking for my wife, Jack, so don't expect me to talk."
"No, indeed, sir, I have heard the strange story, and I hope you will
find her, and bring the pretty young lady back with you, sir; she was
Nance was perfectly bewildered when Cardo appealed to her for
information, and her delight at his return to clear her darling's name
knew no bounds. She brought out her best teacups, settled the little
black teapot in the embers, and gradually drew her visitor into a
calmer frame of mind.
His questions were endless. Every word that Valmai had said, every
dress she had worn, every flower she had planted in the little garden
were subjects of interest which he was never tired of discussing.
But of deeper interest than flowers or dresses was Nance's account of
the tiny angel, who came for a short time to lighten the path of the
weary girl, and to add to her difficulties.
beautiful angels who came to fetch it. It laid there on the settle in
its little white nightgown, and she was sitting by it without crying,
but just looking at it, sometimes kissing the little blue lips. Dr.
Francis was very kind, and did everything about the funeral for her.
It is buried up here in the rock churchyard, in the corner where they
bury all the nameless ones, for we thought he had no father, you see,
sir, and we knew it was unbaptised. She would not have it christened.
She was waiting for you to come home, for she would not tell its name,
saying, 'Baby will do for him till his father comes home,' and 'Baby'
he was, pertws bâch."