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Title: Torn Sails: A Tale of a Welsh Village
Author: Allen Raine
Release date: October 19, 2020 [eBook #63502]
Most recently updated: October 18, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Al Haines
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TORN SAILS: A
TALE OF A WELSH VILLAGE ***](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-17-320.jpg)
![CHAPTER I.
MWNTSEISON.
Between two rugged hills, which rose abruptly from the clear, green
waters of Cardigan Bay, the Gwendraeth, a noisy little river, found its way
from the moors above to the sands which formed the entrance from the sea
to the village of Mwntseison.
In the narrow valley, or "cwm," through which the fussy little streamlet
ran, the whole village lay. It looked like nothing more than a cluster of
white shells left by the storm in a chink of the rocks, the cottages being
perched in the most irregular confusion wherever sufficient space could be
found between the rocky knolls for a house and garden.
The stream running through the centre of the village was an object of
interest and attraction to the whole community, being the common
rendezvous for all sorts of domestic operations. On its banks the household
washing was carried on, fires being lighted here and there, on which the
water was boiled in large brass pans. There was much chattering and
laughter, varied sometimes by hymn singing in chorus, so that "washing
day" at Mwntseison was a holiday rather than a day of toil.
Here Nance Owen rinsed the laver-weeds[1] preparatory to boiling them
down into that questionable delicacy known as "laver-bread."
Here the sheep from the moors above were washed once a year with
much calling and shouting and barking of dogs. The barefooted boys and
girls paddled and sailed their boats in its clear waters in the summer
evenings; and here, when the storms of winter made the little harbour
unsafe, the fishing-boats were hauled up together; here, too, the nets were
washed; and here every day the willow baskets full of vegetables were
brought down to be rinsed before they were flung into the boiling crock of
water and oatmeal, which hung from every chimney at the hour of noon,](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-20-320.jpg)
![is lucky. I must take it up to her to-night," and putting it carelessly into his
pocket, he continued his whistling and his walk.
Before he had gone many steps, however, he saw the owner of the book
come round a turn of the road, evidently in search of her lost music—a girl
of eighteen, slim, tall, and of unusual beauty. As she approached, Ivor was
able to note every charm and grace afresh, though they were already
indelibly stamped on his mind. Her wealth of brown hair, uncovered by hat
or hood, was gathered into a thick knot at the back of her head; it was
drawn straight away from the broad, low brows, and on the head of a girl of
shorter stature would have looked heavy from its thickness, but the graceful
neck carried it with a perfect and easy pose. Her skin was of a pure white,
and almost transparent clearness, her cheeks of the rich pink of the sea-
shell; a pair of dark brown eyes, shaded by their long lashes, looked out
rather seriously upon the world, though they sometimes added a sparkling
glance to the smile on her expressive mouth; her full red lips disclosed a
row of perfect teeth. In fact, Gwladys Price was, without doubt, the
possessor of great beauty.
At the first glance she recognised Ivor, for—did they not work under the
same roof every day of their lives except Sundays? and on those days did
they not meet regularly three times in Brynseion Chapel?
"Aha, Gwladys, thou hast lost something I see, for thou are hunting
about."
"Yes—and thou hast found it, for I see it kiwking[2] out of thy pocket."
"Well voyr![3] so it is; I was bringing it to your house."
"Oh, anwl! there's lucky I am to find it so soon. I missed it as soon as I
had taken off my hat. Thee wasn't at the singing class to-night?"
"No—didst miss me?"
"Yes; Owen Jones' voice does not lead as well as thine."
This was not exactly what he had hoped to hear.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-26-320.jpg)
!["Who teeps the hills with gold,
Whosse rocey fingares ope the gates of day."
"What gibberish is that?" said the gentle-faced mother. "Now, don't thee
get too proud to speak Welsh! And Gwen is going to be married so soon!"
"Ivor seems glad, mother."
"And no wonder! When a lass shows her love too plainly, a sensible man
draws back."
Gwladys did not answer for some time, till her mother spoke again.
"Didst think Ivor Parry would ever have taken a fancy to Gwen?"
"Oh, mother, no! never such a thing came to my thoughts! Ivor Parry!
no, no, he never thinks of such things!"
[1] The thin dark green seaweed, known to the learned as ulva latissima.
When boiled down, it is mixed with oatmeal, and fried in butter.
[2] Peeping.
[3] Well, indeed!
CHAPTER II.
HUGH MORGAN.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-30-320.jpg)
!["Blodau'r flwyddin yw f'anwylyd,
Ebrill, Mai, Mehefin hefyd.
Ma'i fel yr haul 'n'twynu ar gy scod,
A gwenithen y genethod."
—Old Ballad.
"My love has every charm of weather,
April, May, and June together.
She's like the sunshine after rain)
She's like the full ear's ripest grain."
—Trans.
When Ivor reached his own lodgings he found Gwen had brought her
work out of the cwrt[1] to catch the last beams of the evening sun.
"Ah!" he said pleasantly, "getting on with the laces and ribbons?"
"Oh, yes," she said, with a toss of her head; "I am not one to let the grass
grow under my feet when once I have made up my mind."
"No, indeed, you never were," and he disappeared under the low
doorway, where his voice could be heard in cheerful conversation with
Lallo.
There had been nothing unfriendly in Gwen's words, but Ivor was quite
aware of the spiteful, sweeping glance which she cast after him.
When she soon after followed him into the dark penisha,[2] she flung her
work aside, saying:
"Wfft to the old sun; he went down just as I wanted him."
"Never mind, he'll come round again to-morrow," said Lallo, "and thou
canst catch his first beams if thou wishest."
Gwen made no answer, but raked the embers together with her wooden
shoe. She was a pale, freckled girl, with a short nose and a wide mouth, and](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-31-320.jpg)
![had no pretensions to beauty; but her shrewdness and quickness of repartee
had made her a favourite with the lads of the village.
Siencyn Owen had courted her for years, had been flattered and rebuffed
in turns, and had remained faithful through all; while Gwen, who had
nursed a secret passion for Ivor, had in vain made every endeavour to win
his affections. At length her shrewdness had made it evident to her that she
was wasting her youth and her blandishments in a hopeless cause, and she
had accepted the long-enduring Siencyn, although in that passionate, fiery
little heart of hers, Ivor Parry still had the first place.
"Well," she said, examining the brass tips of her clocs,[3] "what did
Gwladys say about the news?"
He was startled at the suddenness of the question, but knew better from
experience than to try to parry Gwen's thrusts.
"She was very glad," he said, "and so was Nani——"
"I suppose so! And was she glad to get her glee book?"
"Yes, indeed!" said Ivor, rising and standing in the doorway, a black
figure against the crimson sky. "Little witch!" he said to himself, "I wonder
how she knew; but what doesn't she know! They said her grandmother was
a witch, and her ways have descended to her granddaughter, I think."
As a fact, Gwen, returning through the fields from the singing class, had
seen him stoop to pick up the book. Ivor was not absolutely free from
superstition; what dweller on that rocky coast is? With his hands thrust deep
in his pockets, he sauntered down the road to learn what tidings 'n'wncwl[4]
Jos (the general newsmonger of the village) had of the Skylark which
should have arrived with the morning's tide.
Meanwhile Gwen had carried her bit of work to the penucha[5] and had
locked it up in the shining, black "coffor," which contained the wardrobe of
the family. She saw her mother pass the window, carrying her red pitcher to
the well, and knowing she was alone in the house, sat down in front of the
fire and gave the rein to her thoughts, and even spoke them aloud.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-32-320.jpg)
!["She was very glad, no doubt, and they rejoiced together! Oh, yes, Ivor, I
have guessed your secret long ago, and if she were not such a fool, such a
simple baby, she would have seen it, too; but she doesn't, that's one
comfort! Llances![6] But never mind, it wasn't for nothing that I lived with
my grandmother. No, it wasn't for nothing that I sat with her night after
night over the peat fire! I found out much from her," and rising, she
stamped her foot and clenched her hand, and an evil look came into the eyes
which looked so cunningly under those half-closed lids.
"I hate her!" she said; "and granny has told me that if you have reason to
hate anyone you can work them harm without going near them or touching
them! And haven't I reason? 'You can keep your mind,' she said, 'so
constantly fixed upon that one wish that your enemy will not prosper.' Wel,
indeed! perhaps that is nonsense! I will marry Siencyn Owen—poor lad, he
is faithful and true, and I will make him a good wife—but 'tis Gwladys I
will often be thinking about!"
She paused a moment, and approached the little window, through which
the glow of the setting sun lighted up her face; it was not pleasant to look
upon.
"Yes, happy thoughts!" she said, with a sneering smile. "Granny!" she
cried, turning back to the gloom of the little room, and raising her hand
above her head. "Granny, granny! I wish you were here to help me! and,
who knows, perhaps you are! There was no love lost between you and Nani
Price!"
Almost as she spoke the last words Ivor Parry returned.
"I am as hungry as a hound," he said.
"Supper then directly; and here comes mother," she said.
And as the three sat at their supper of barley bread and fresh butter, with
the addition, of course, of a bowl of cawl,[7] no one who looked in through
that little window would have guessed that such stormy passions had, a few
minutes ago, filled the heart of one of the party.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-33-320.jpg)
!["Who were the boys?" asked Hugh Morgan, looking down at the
frightened, shivering dog. "Ah, Shân Pentraeth's! Well, none of you boys
are to play with them for a week; d'ye hear?"
"Or goren,[8] Mishteer," came in answer from ten or a dozen boys
working together at one end of the shed.
Hugh Morgan having made a bed for the dog on a coil of ropes, turned
once more to the doorway as Deio Pantgwyn appeared leading a horse and
cart.
"Where's your waggon and two horses?" asked the Mishteer, with a
darkening look on his face, which his work-people all knew betokened a
storm.
"Wel, Mishteer, Cymro hurt his leg last night, and he was limping this
morning, so I could not bring him; but it's all right, Flower can easily take
the load herself."
"Stop, Deio; didn't you tell Ivor Parry last night that we ought to have
three horses? and now you want one to take the load! Go home again, and
learn that no one who works for me shall be cruel to any animal——"
"But I thought the sails must be on the quay to-day?"
"So they ought; and you will put me to great expense, and Captain
Morris to great inconvenience; but that horse shall not carry that load—so
off you go!"
Deio stormed and swore; but the Mishteer was inexorable, and, turning
to Ivor, said:
"Leave everything as it is until the full moon tide, and I will go myself
to-night to explain to Captain Morris——"
"Will I borrow another horse to harness with Flower?" Deio shouted
from outside, "since you think so much more of a horse than of a man's time
and trouble."](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-35-320.jpg)
!["Come, let us have a share of the fun," said Hugh Morgan, approaching,
his eyes fixed smilingly on Gwladys Price's laughing face. She held her
sides, and threw her head back in a fit of laughter, her dimpled face and
white teeth looking very charming in their abandon of mirth.
"Oh, dear, dear! its 'n'wncwl Jos! Oh, dyr anwl, I have laughed till my
sides ache."
"Yes, there's a girl she is to laugh," said 'n'wncwl Jos, putting in the stops
with his wooden leg, "in spite of those serious brown eyes of hers. Hegh,
hegh, hegh! I'll back her for a good laugh against any other girl in
Mwntseison." (Stump, stump.) "I was only telling her how I lost my eye
long ago, and that's how she takes it! Hegh, hegh! true as I am here. I was in
the Bay of Loango, out there in Africa, me sitting on the edge of the ship,
The Queen of the South, Captain Lucas, and whew! back I went among the
sharks. In a moment an old ghost of a fellow darted after me. 'Here I'm
going,' says I to myself, 'safe to Davey Jones' locker, and in a nasty
conveyance, too!' (There she is laughing again, look!) The shark stopped a
minute just to take a good look at me, when what should I feel but a sharp
hook in my eye. I knew at once 'twas the rope and the hook from the ship,
and Diwedd anwl![9] I'd rather have forty hooks in my eye than be
swallowed by that old white ghost. I was reaching the sandy bottom just as
the hook caught me, and partly with the pain, and partly with joy, I danced
and floundered about ('twas before I lost my leg) and kicked up such a
shindy, that I made a thick cloud of sand about me, and the old shark
backed a bit, and I tugged the rope, and they pulled me up."
"By the hook in thine eye?" asked Gwen sarcastically, for 'n'wncwl Jos's
stories were always taken cum grano salis.
"Diwedd anwl! No! I took that out pretty sharp—hegh! hegh! hegh!—
and fastened it in the band of my trousses. 'Fforwel, old boy!' sez I, with my
thumb to my nose, though I was nearly losing my breath; and as true as I'm
here, the old fellow was offended"—(stump, stump)—"hegh! hegh! hegh!
—for he made a spring at me, and snapped at my leg, just as they were
pulling me out of the water. If it wasn't for my trousses he'd have had her
off! I have thanked the Lord hundred thousand times for those good, strong
trousses, so glad I am that the old fellow didn't have the pleasure of his](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-37-320.jpg)
![dinner from me! not so much for the worth of the leg (for she often gave me
trouble with rheumatics—hegh! hegh!—and she does now, though she's
buried safe in Glasgow! True as I'm here she does!), but to spite the old
shark! 'Not for the worth of the loaf,' as the woman said, 'but for the roguery
of the baker!'—hegh! hegh! hegh!" (Stump, stump, stump.)
"Keep the rest till to-night, 'n'wncwl Jos," said Hugh Morgan, joining in
the laugh which followed the story; "I'm coming in to have a pipe with you.
How is Mari?"
"Mari!" said the old man, with a strangely softened look on his sunburnt,
shining face. "Mari! oh, she's very well, calon fâchl[10] she is well, indeed;
though, now I remember, she had a headache—there's a brute I am to
forget!" and off he stumped in great haste to make up for his forgetfulness.
Gwladys dried her tears of laughter, and applied herself with renewed
attention to the huge sail, of which she held one corner, while Gwen sewed
at the other.
"'Tis heavy for thee, lass," said Hugh Morgan, drawing near, and rolling
a log under the corner which Gwladys was working at.
The girl smiled, but looked a little embarrassed by the Mishteer's
kindness.
"Oh, no! no heavier than Gwen's corner, Mishteer, and I am quite as
strong."
It was said innocently, and Hugh knew it was; but a deep flush
overspread his face as he turned to the other girl, and offered her the same
help.
"The same log will do for both," he said.
"Oh, no need," said Gwen, with a slight sneer in her voice, as much as
she dared show the Mishteer; "of course this corner is lighter than the
other."](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-38-320.jpg)
![As Hugh passed on to another set of workers, she looked after him with
a slowly dawning perception in her eyes.
"He is very kind to thee," she said, looking at Gwladys under her half-
closed lids; "what has come over him?"
"Wel, indeed, he is always kind, isn't he? even to his dogs. See how that
little half-drowned dog wags his tail when he passes."
Gwen did not answer; but as her companion proceeded with her work
she looked at her furtively from time to time with hatred and jealousy in her
eyes.
The afternoon found them again at their work. Gwen had had time, while
she drank her cawl and ate her barley bread at dinner, to arrange her ideas.
"Art coming to my wedding on Monday?" she asked carelessly.
"Oh, anwl, of course! Thee'st asked me and mother, and we are coming."
"Madlen is to be my bridesmaid, and Ivor Parry will be the teilwr.[11]
Who shall I find for thee? Dye Pentraeth? I have heard thee art fond of
him!"
"Dye Pentraeth?" said Gwladys, with perfect composure. "Wel, indeed!
he will do very well for me; I will get on all right with him; but I don't think
thou hast ever heard I am fond of him, Gwen; thee hast made a mistake."
"Perhaps, indeed!" said Gwen, with a yawn. "Was it Ivor Parry, perhaps?
I didn't take much notice."
Now, indeed, Gwladys was moved, and Gwen watched her mercilessly
as a crimson flush overspread cheeks, forehead, and neck.
"They were right, too, I see," she said, in a sarcastic tone. "Wel, wel,
merch i, 'tis to be hoped he will be pleased when I tell him."
"They were wrong!" said Gwladys, covering her face with both hands
for a moment; and then, standing up, she indignantly threw the corner of the](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/765-250707085731-1dda8124/85/Test-Bank-for-Project-Management-The-Managerial-Process-with-MS-Project-6th-Edition-Erik-Larson-39-320.jpg)
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- 5. 1-2 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 4. Which of the following activities is the best example of a project? A. Processing insurance claims B. Producing automobiles C. Writing a policy manual D. Monitoring product quality E. Overseeing customer requests 5. Which of the following is NOT one of the stages of a project life cycle? A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing 6. In the _____________ stage of the project life cycle, project objectives are established, teams are formed, and major responsibilities are assigned. A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing 7. In the _____________ stage of the project life cycle, a major portion of the physical project work performed. A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing 8. In the _____________ stage of the project life cycle you are more likely to find status reports, changes, and the creation of forecasts. A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing
- 6. 1-3 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 9. In the _____________ stage of the project life cycle the project's schedule and budget will be determined. A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing 10. In the _____________ stage of the project life cycle project the product is delivered to the customer and resources are reassigned. A. Identifying B. Defining C. Planning D. Executing E. Closing 11. Which of the following is NOT typical of a project manager? A. Managing a temporary activity B. Overseeing existing operations C. Managing a nonrepetitive activity D. Responsible for time, cost and performance trade-offs E. Work with a group of outsiders, including vendors and suppliers 12. Which of the following is NOT one of the driving forces behind the increasing demand for project management? A. Compression of the product life cycle B. Knowledge explosion C. Increasing need for multiproject management D. Declining need for product customization E. More sustainable business practices 13. Project management is ideally suited for a business environment requiring all of the following EXCEPT A. Accountability. B. Flexibility. C. Innovation. D. Speed. E. Repeatability.
- 7. 1-4 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 14. Which dimension of project management centers on creating a temporary social system within a larger organizational environment that combines the talents of a divergent set of professionals working to complete the project? A. Communication B. Sociocultural C. Social D. Technical E. Scheduling 15. Which of the following statements is true? A. Project management is far from a standard way of doing business B. Project management is increasingly contributing to achieving organizational strategies C. Project management is being used at a consistent percentage of a firm's efforts D. Project management is a specialty that few organizations have access to E. All of these statements are false 16. Project management is important to understand when people are a part of a project team because they A. Work with others to create a schedule and budget. B. Need to understand project priorities so they can make independent decisions. C. Need to be able to monitor and report project progress. D. Need to understand the project charter or scope statement that defines the objectives and parameters of the project. E. All of these are reasons it is important for project team members to understand project management. 17. Project governance does NOT include A. Setting standards for project selection. B. Overseeing project management activities. C. Centralization of project processes and practices. D. Options for continuous improvement. E. Allowing project managers to plan the project the way they see fit. 18. Projects should align with the organization's overall strategy in order to A. Complete the project safely. B. Reduce waste of scarce resources. C. Ensure customer satisfaction. D. Secure funding. E. None of these are reasons why projects should align with the organization's overall strategy.
- 8. 1-5 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 19. Two dimensions within the project management process are A. Technical and sociocultural. B. Cost and time. C. Planned and unexpected. D. Established and new. E. Unique and reoccurring. 20. Which of these is NOT part of the "technical dimension" of project management? A. WBS B. Budgets C. Problem solving D. Schedules E. Status reports 21. Which of these is NOT part of the "sociocultural dimension" of project management? A. Negotiation B. Resource allocation C. Managing customer expectations D. Leadership E. Dealing with politics 22. Corporate downsizing has increased the trend toward A. Reducing the number of projects a company initiates. B. Outsourcing significant segments of project work. C. Using dedicated project teams. D. Shorter project lead times. E. Longer project lead times. 23. Which of the following is NOT a reason why project management has become a standard way of doing business? A. Increased need for skilled management of stakeholders outside of organization B. Projects need to be done faster C. Organizations are doing more project work in-house instead of outsourcing D. Organizations are executing more and more projects E. Increased product complexity and innovation
- 9. 1-6 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 24. Which of the following is typically the responsibility of a project manager? A. Meeting budget requirements B. Meeting schedule requirements C. Meeting performance specifications D. Coordinating the actions of the team members E. All of these are typical responsibilities 25. A series of coordinated, related, multiple projects that continue over an extended time period and are intended to achieve a goal is known as a A. Strategy. B. Program. C. Campaign. D. Crusade. E. Venture. 26. Which of the following is NOT true about project management? A. It is not limited to the private sector B. Many opportunities are available for individuals interested in this career path C. It improves one's ability to plan, implement and manage activities to accomplish specific organizational objectives D. It focuses primarily on technical processes E. It is a set of tools 27. As the number of small projects increase within an organization's portfolio, what is a challenge an organization faces? A. Sharing resources B. Measuring efficiency C. Managing risk D. Prioritizing projects E. All of these are challenges 28. Governance of all project management processes and procedures helps provide senior management with all of the following EXCEPT A. A method to ensure projects that are important to senior management are being implemented B. An assessment of the risk their portfolio of projects represents C. An overview of all project management activities D. A metric to measure the improvement of managing projects relative to others in the industry E. A big picture of how organizational resources are being used
- 10. 1-7 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 29. Which of the following is a good example of a program? A. Planting a garden B. Developing a new residential area that includes six custom homes C. Developing a new marketing plan D. Taking notes each class meeting to prepare for the final E. Planning a wedding 30. Which of the following represents the correct order of stages within the project life cycle? A. Planning, Defining, Executing, Closing B. Closing, Planning, Defining, Executing C. Defining, Planning, Executing, Closing D. Executing, Defining, Planning, Closing E. Planning, Defining, Closing, Executing Fill in the Blank Questions 31. Project management is not limited to the __________ sector. ________________________________________ 32. The initial stage in the project life cycle is the __________ stage. ________________________________________ 33. The final stage in the project life cycle is the __________ stage. ________________________________________ 34. A professional organization for project managers that has grown from 93,000 in 2002 to more than 520,000 currently is the ___________. ________________________________________ 35. A major part of the project work, both physical and mental, takes place in the ___________ stage of the project life cycle. ________________________________________ 36. The project's schedule and budget will be determined in the ___________ stage of the project life cycle. ________________________________________
- 11. 1-8 Copyright © 2014 McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. No reproduction or distribution without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education. 37. A temporary endeavor undertaken to create a unique product, service, or result is a(n) _________. ________________________________________ 38. In today's high-tech industries the product life cycle is averaging _________ to 3 years. ________________________________________ 39. The advent of many small projects has created the need for an organization that can support __________ management. ________________________________________ 40. Increased competition has placed a premium on customer satisfaction and the development of __________ products and services. ________________________________________
- 12. Other documents randomly have different content
- 16. The Project Gutenberg eBook of Torn Sails: A Tale of a Welsh Village
- 17. This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Torn Sails: A Tale of a Welsh Village Author: Allen Raine Release date: October 19, 2020 [eBook #63502] Most recently updated: October 18, 2024 Language: English Credits: Produced by Al Haines *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TORN SAILS: A TALE OF A WELSH VILLAGE ***
- 18. TORN SAILS A TALE OF A WELSH VILLAGE BY ALLEN RAINE AUTHOR OF MIFANWY, A WELSH SINGER NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1898 COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
- 19. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I.—Mwntseison II.—Hugh Morgan III.—Mari "Vone" IV.—Owen's "bidding" V.—Traeth-y-daran VI.—Changes VII.—A wedding call VIII.—Confidences IX.—Gwen's rebellion X.—Hugh's suspicions XI.—The storm XII.—Unrest XIII.—Doubts and fears XIV.—The mill XV.—Torn sails XVI.—Peace XVII.—The mill in the moonlight TORN SAILS. "Caraf ei morfa, a'i mynyddedd, A'i gwilain gwynion, a'i gwymp wreigèdd." —Hab Owain. "I love her golden shores, her mountains bare, Her snow-white seagulls, and her maidens fair." —Trans.
- 20. CHAPTER I. MWNTSEISON. Between two rugged hills, which rose abruptly from the clear, green waters of Cardigan Bay, the Gwendraeth, a noisy little river, found its way from the moors above to the sands which formed the entrance from the sea to the village of Mwntseison. In the narrow valley, or "cwm," through which the fussy little streamlet ran, the whole village lay. It looked like nothing more than a cluster of white shells left by the storm in a chink of the rocks, the cottages being perched in the most irregular confusion wherever sufficient space could be found between the rocky knolls for a house and garden. The stream running through the centre of the village was an object of interest and attraction to the whole community, being the common rendezvous for all sorts of domestic operations. On its banks the household washing was carried on, fires being lighted here and there, on which the water was boiled in large brass pans. There was much chattering and laughter, varied sometimes by hymn singing in chorus, so that "washing day" at Mwntseison was a holiday rather than a day of toil. Here Nance Owen rinsed the laver-weeds[1] preparatory to boiling them down into that questionable delicacy known as "laver-bread." Here the sheep from the moors above were washed once a year with much calling and shouting and barking of dogs. The barefooted boys and girls paddled and sailed their boats in its clear waters in the summer evenings; and here, when the storms of winter made the little harbour unsafe, the fishing-boats were hauled up together; here, too, the nets were washed; and here every day the willow baskets full of vegetables were brought down to be rinsed before they were flung into the boiling crock of water and oatmeal, which hung from every chimney at the hour of noon,
- 21. vegetables being the chief ingredients in the appetising "cawl" that spread its aroma through the whole village. A strong wooden bridge with an iron rail spanned the narrow river, but was seldom used except in winter, a few broad stepping-stones making a more natural mode of communication between the two sides of the valley. There was nothing like a street in Mwntseison, a rocky, stony road alone passing through it down to the shore, in an independent sort of way, as if disclaiming any connection with the cottages following its course, and, where possible, rather clinging to its sides. Most of the houses were straw thatched; a few had slated roofs, and they looked awkward and bare in their uncongenial attire. The fierce storms, however, which rushed up that narrow cwm in the winter months soon softened any look of rawness which clung to such an innovation as a slate roof! At the end of the village nearest the sea, and not far from the top of the cliff, stood a large, wooden building, which seemed to attract much of the energy and interest of the place, for in and out of its wide-open doors there was always somebody passing. Within its boarded walls was carried on the thriving business of sail-making, which gave employment and comfort to almost every household in the village. Hard by, in a cleft of the great hillside, stood the house of the master, Hugh Morgan, "Mishteer," as he was called, for he was the owner of more than half of Mwntseison. In Wales the landlord is still called "Master," and about the term hangs, in spite of modern and radical suggestions, a flavour of the old affection which once existed between landlord and tenant. There was nothing in the house to distinguish it from the other cottages, except that it was a little larger, and moreover boasted of a second floor, over the two windows of which the brown thatch curved its comfortable mantle. Its front was well sheltered from the sea wind by a bank of the cliff, covered with sea pinks and yellow trefoil. The sun shone full upon its white-washed walls, and in the "cwrt," or front garden, grew two splendid bushes of hydrangia, the pride of the village.
- 22. Inside, in the spacious old "pen-isha," or living-room, the brown rafters hung low in the dim light, for the window was small, and deeply set in the thick walls. The chimney was of the old-fashioned sort, known as "lwfwr," and encircled within its wattled sides a large portion of the kitchen. Under its shade there was room for the small round table, the settle, and the cosy bee-hive or lip chair. Along the front of its bulging brow ran a shelf, ranged upon which stood various articles of pewter, copper, and brass, glittering with all the brilliancy that Madlen, the maid's, strong arm could give them. She was proud of her long service under the Mishteer, of the pre-eminence which he held over the rest of the villagers; she was proud of her well- scrubbed tables and chairs, and her invariably clean and cheerful hearth; but above all things, she was proud of that shelf with its shining company of "household gods." Indeed, some of the articles ranged upon it would have roused the enthusiasm of a modern collector of curios. The quaint, old brass bowl, with its curious inscription, still faintly visible in spite of Madlen's vigorous rubbing, a rugged old flagon of pewter, bearing the same inscription, not to speak of the quaintly-shaped copper pans, and a regiment of tall, brass candlesticks. When questioned as to the manner in which he had become possessed of such a goodly array, Hugh Morgan was wont to say carelessly, "Oh! I only know they were my grandmother's, and I have heard her say they were her grandmother's." He did not add, as he might have done, that she had also told him that in long past days, the eldest son of the family was always christened from that bowl, for he rather despised and disliked any allusion to the old tradition afloat in the village that his forefathers belonged to a different class from that in which he now lived. On the evening on which my story opens he had just come home to his tea. The big doors of the sail-shed had been closed, the busy workmen and women had separated and sauntered away, for nobody hurried at Mwntseison. There was time for everything, and Ivor Parry—Hugh Morgan's manager—had locked the door and put the key in his pocket, with the comfortable feeling, so unfamiliar to dwellers in towns, that he not only had plenty of work to fill up his time, but also plenty of time for his work. He was tall and manly looking, ruddy featured and blue-eyed, his broad forehead surmounted by thick waves of light brown hair. It was a pleasant face to look upon, and one which inspired confidence.
- 23. When as a boy of twelve he had entered upon his work in the sail-shed, the Mishteer had been his ideal of all that was manly and strong, and he had constituted himself not only his willing servant, but his almost constant personal attendant. The Mishteer smiled at first, but gradually learnt to value the lad's attachment; and, as the years went on, they became fast friends, in spite of the difference in their ages. Although their friendship was never marked by any condescension in Hugh's manner, it was always felt by Ivor to be a privilege as well as an honour, and this feeling had grown with his growth, and increased with every year of personal intercourse with his employer. Some such thoughts as these filled his mind to-night as he traversed the bit of green sward lying between the shed and the Mishteer's house. Having hung the key on its usual nail near the door, he peeped round the brown painted boards which divided the living-room from the passage, and saw Hugh Morgan seated at his tea. He was well under the shadow of the large open chimney, where a bright fire burned on the stone hearth, although it was May; for here, in the face of the north-west wind, the evenings were often cold. Madlen had drawn the round table for cosiness near to the fire, in the glow of which the tea-things and snowy cloth gleamed cheerfully, while the little brown teapot kept company with the bubbling kettle on the hearth. "Oh, Mishteer," said Ivor, putting his head in, "I can remind Deio Pantgwyn to send the waggon and horses to-morrow; I am going that way." "There's what I was thinking about," said Hugh; "but I thought thou wert going to the singing class to-night at Brynseion?" "They must do without me to-night. Owen Jones is a good leader," replied Ivor. "H'm, h'm! I don't know," said Hugh thoughtfully, "how he'll manage that change of key in the new glee; but I must watch him. Well, tell Deio to be here at eleven to-morrow, for the sails for the Lapwing have to be on the pier at Aberython by four in the afternoon."
- 24. "Right!" said Ivor laconically; "good-night." And away he went whistling, with his hat pushed back, and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat. The affection which he felt for his master was shared by almost every man, woman, and child in the village, where Hugh Morgan's influence had spread itself, unconsciously to him, through every household. What special trait in his character had roused this strong feeling it would be difficult to say; but the Welsh are an impressionable race, and doubtless the uprightness and firmness of his moral principles, coupled with an unswerving adherence to truth, had laid the foundation of the power which he possessed over his neighbours. He had also the reputation of being a shrewd man of business, and it would have caused a shock of astonishment to the villagers had he committed a dishonourable action, or miscalculated the result of a business transaction. Their attachment to him was not unmixed with a certain amount of wholesome fear, perhaps to be accounted for by the complete dependence of the majority of them upon him for their daily bread. He was a proof of the truth of the saying, "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump," for Mwntseison was, outwardly at least, a pattern village. There was very little brawling or drinking, considering that most of the younger inhabitants were seafaring men. Later in the evening, as Ivor Parry wended his way towards Deio Pantgwyn's farm, his cheerful whistle accompanied a train of busy thought —pride in the consciousness that Hugh Morgan confided in him entirely and made of him a special friend, gratitude for the kindnesses which he had heaped upon him, and pleased satisfaction at the thought that he was of real service to the Mishteer. On the brow of the hill he passed the gaunt and bare Methodist Chapel, from the open doors of which came a stream of music, the result of sixty or seventy young fresh voices, blended into the delicious harmony of a popular Welsh glee. Ivor stopped to listen. His voice, the richest and most musical of the whole party, was much missed in the gallery of the chapel, where the singing class always met. He longed to enter, and take his usual place; but the pleasure of serving Hugh Morgan outweighed this desire. A smile flitted over his face as he listened attentively to the female voices, which took one
- 25. part alone. One voice soared above the others in clearness and sweetness, and he took note of it with a side jerk of his head. "Gwladys," he said; "I would know it anywhere; yes, I would know it amongst the angels in heaven!" and he turned down the stubby lane, which led its meandering way through fields and farmsteads to Pantgwyn, where Deio himself was whittling a stick at the house door. When reminded of his promise to send the waggon and pair of horses the next day to Hugh Morgan's workshop, he answered in a grumbling, dissatisfied voice: "Three horses you ought to have; 'twill be a heavy load for two." "Not a bit of it," said Ivor; "you may be certain if three were required the Mishteer would have them. If you lived in our village you would know that, Deio." "Oh! I have no doubt," answered the man, in a sneering voice; "the King of Mwntseison is always right!" "Well, eleven o'clock is the time—will you be there, or will you not?" "I'll be there," said Deio, still whittling. "Good-night!" said Ivor, turning away, and receiving no answer from the grumpy man. "Sulky old dog!" he soliloquised, as he retraced his footsteps. When he reached the chapel all was silent, the doors were closed, and evidently the singing class was over. A look of disappointment came over his face, to be quickly followed by one of satisfaction, as he stooped to pick up a book, evidently dropped by a member of the glee class which had just dispersed. It was a thin book with a paper cover, and he recognised it as the collection of glees then occupying the attention of the class. "What good luck," he said, as he read the name on the cover in his own handwriting, for he had distributed the books himself. "Gwladys Price! that
- 26. is lucky. I must take it up to her to-night," and putting it carelessly into his pocket, he continued his whistling and his walk. Before he had gone many steps, however, he saw the owner of the book come round a turn of the road, evidently in search of her lost music—a girl of eighteen, slim, tall, and of unusual beauty. As she approached, Ivor was able to note every charm and grace afresh, though they were already indelibly stamped on his mind. Her wealth of brown hair, uncovered by hat or hood, was gathered into a thick knot at the back of her head; it was drawn straight away from the broad, low brows, and on the head of a girl of shorter stature would have looked heavy from its thickness, but the graceful neck carried it with a perfect and easy pose. Her skin was of a pure white, and almost transparent clearness, her cheeks of the rich pink of the sea- shell; a pair of dark brown eyes, shaded by their long lashes, looked out rather seriously upon the world, though they sometimes added a sparkling glance to the smile on her expressive mouth; her full red lips disclosed a row of perfect teeth. In fact, Gwladys Price was, without doubt, the possessor of great beauty. At the first glance she recognised Ivor, for—did they not work under the same roof every day of their lives except Sundays? and on those days did they not meet regularly three times in Brynseion Chapel? "Aha, Gwladys, thou hast lost something I see, for thou are hunting about." "Yes—and thou hast found it, for I see it kiwking[2] out of thy pocket." "Well voyr![3] so it is; I was bringing it to your house." "Oh, anwl! there's lucky I am to find it so soon. I missed it as soon as I had taken off my hat. Thee wasn't at the singing class to-night?" "No—didst miss me?" "Yes; Owen Jones' voice does not lead as well as thine." This was not exactly what he had hoped to hear.
- 27. "Was the Mishteer there?" "Yes, of course; we could not get on far without him. What a voice he has, Ivor!" "Yes, I thought I could distinguish it, from the road—and thine, Gwladys! It was like a thread of silk in a skein of wool!" "Since when art thou a bard, Ivor?" she said, with a merry laugh; "I won't know thee in that guise!" "Oh! I am not taken often in that way," he said; "but some sights would make a bard of anyone!" and he gazed with rapture at the deep, brown eyes. But Gwladys was proof against any implied compliment, her simple guileless nature was slow to take in any suggested admiration, more especially from Ivor Parry, who she knew was rather given to fun and banter. She had grown up so calmly and quietly, had budded into womanhood so suddenly, as it seemed to Ivor, that with a tender shrinking from disturbing the even tenor of her life, born of true love, he had tried, and successfully, to hide his passion from everyone, more especially from the object of it. And thus it was that hitherto she had not guessed its existence, neither did she know that she loved Ivor! They had grown up together, had paddled in the same stream, sung in the same glee classes, and latterly, for several years, had worked under the same employer. Ivor had long known that the happiness of his life was bound up in her, while she was only just awaking to the feeling that the boy who, being seven years her elder, had always constituted himself her protector, had grown into the man whom of all the world she was most desirous of pleasing. During this digression she had thoughtfully inspected her glee book. "There's a beautiful glee we are learning now, isn't it? only 'tis pity the words are English! There's hard to say, 'Whosse rocey fingares ope the gates of day.'"
- 28. "'Tis hard at first," he answered. A silence fell on them as they approached the village together. Ivor was filled with varied feelings: pleasure at thus having Gwladys all to himself, anxiety lest another should rush in where he feared to tread, and above all, the difficulty of keeping his feelings under proper control in her presence. "Only eighteen," he thought. "I will wait till she is twenty; but meanwhile I will try to win her love." Oh, blind and foolish Ivor! and no less blind Gwladys! who stood upon the brink of that awakening which should let in a flood of light and happiness upon her life. Both seemed to shrink from drawing aside the curtain which hid the future from their sight; for was it not sufficient happiness thus to meet every day, and almost every hour of the day? Was it not enough for Gwladys to raise her eyes from her work on the rough sail- cloth, and see his stalwart form moving about amongst the bales and cordage, and often to find his clear, blue eyes fixed upon her! A word or a smile from him would raise a flush to her face, and caused a tumultuous flutter under the pink muslin 'kerchief crossed in soft folds over her bosom. She knew it was pleasant to be near him; but that he found the same delight in her presence was beyond the range of her imagination, for was he not her master in one sense, being Hugh Morgan's manager, who trusted him entirely, and made no secret of his intention to take him into partnership? As they reached her mother's door, she hesitated to ask him in; but he settled the matter by raising the thumb latch, and preceding her into the cottage. "Hello, Nani," he said; "here is your daughter, whom I found straying about the roads, peering about like a chicken seeking for grain!" As he spoke, a woman rose from a low oak stool by the fire with a pleasant smile of welcome. She was pale and delicate-looking, but still bore traces of the beauty which had once been hers. "Wel! wel! Ivor Parry! it is you, indeed, who are so kind as to bring me back the truant? Many thanks to you. She rushed away like a wild thing, and I guessed she had lost her glee book. And how are Lallo and Gwen?"
- 29. "Well, indeed, and in good spirits. You have heard the news, of course! No? Gwen is going to be married next week. Siencyn Owen and she have been long enough making up their minds, haven't they?" "So soon!" answered Nani. "Wel! that will be a grand thing for Lallo!" "Would you be so willing to part with Gwladys, then?" "No, indeed; that would be quite different; but Lallo! why, I don't think there has ever been such a thing as a wedding in her family before! Wel, not for three generations whatever!" "No, I suppose not; but Gwen thinks a new name will be better than the old one. After the bidding she will sail away with Siencyn in the Speedwell." "I am glad," said Nani; "and you will be glad, Ivor!" "Yes," said the young man thoughtfully, "I will not be sorry, although I have been very happy with Lallo and Gwen. I am going to Mary the Mill's to-morrow. Wel! I must go now. Nos da, Nani; nos da, Gwladys." The girl was standing beside the little window looking over the sea, her brown eyes fixed on the ripples of gold and crimson that stretched away to the west. She pointed with her finger to the sinking sun as she answered: "Nos da. I was just thinking there was something to make a bard of thee." Ivor saw that she had not understood his former compliment, so would not venture upon another, and merely saying, "'Tis a promise of fine weather," left the cottage. "Come, dear heart," said Nani, "thee'lt want thy supper after all thy singing! How did it go to-night?" "Oh, pretty well, mother!" and as she sat down to the shining oak table she hummed to herself the English words which had puzzled her:
- 30. "Who teeps the hills with gold, Whosse rocey fingares ope the gates of day." "What gibberish is that?" said the gentle-faced mother. "Now, don't thee get too proud to speak Welsh! And Gwen is going to be married so soon!" "Ivor seems glad, mother." "And no wonder! When a lass shows her love too plainly, a sensible man draws back." Gwladys did not answer for some time, till her mother spoke again. "Didst think Ivor Parry would ever have taken a fancy to Gwen?" "Oh, mother, no! never such a thing came to my thoughts! Ivor Parry! no, no, he never thinks of such things!" [1] The thin dark green seaweed, known to the learned as ulva latissima. When boiled down, it is mixed with oatmeal, and fried in butter. [2] Peeping. [3] Well, indeed! CHAPTER II. HUGH MORGAN.
- 31. "Blodau'r flwyddin yw f'anwylyd, Ebrill, Mai, Mehefin hefyd. Ma'i fel yr haul 'n'twynu ar gy scod, A gwenithen y genethod." —Old Ballad. "My love has every charm of weather, April, May, and June together. She's like the sunshine after rain) She's like the full ear's ripest grain." —Trans. When Ivor reached his own lodgings he found Gwen had brought her work out of the cwrt[1] to catch the last beams of the evening sun. "Ah!" he said pleasantly, "getting on with the laces and ribbons?" "Oh, yes," she said, with a toss of her head; "I am not one to let the grass grow under my feet when once I have made up my mind." "No, indeed, you never were," and he disappeared under the low doorway, where his voice could be heard in cheerful conversation with Lallo. There had been nothing unfriendly in Gwen's words, but Ivor was quite aware of the spiteful, sweeping glance which she cast after him. When she soon after followed him into the dark penisha,[2] she flung her work aside, saying: "Wfft to the old sun; he went down just as I wanted him." "Never mind, he'll come round again to-morrow," said Lallo, "and thou canst catch his first beams if thou wishest." Gwen made no answer, but raked the embers together with her wooden shoe. She was a pale, freckled girl, with a short nose and a wide mouth, and
- 32. had no pretensions to beauty; but her shrewdness and quickness of repartee had made her a favourite with the lads of the village. Siencyn Owen had courted her for years, had been flattered and rebuffed in turns, and had remained faithful through all; while Gwen, who had nursed a secret passion for Ivor, had in vain made every endeavour to win his affections. At length her shrewdness had made it evident to her that she was wasting her youth and her blandishments in a hopeless cause, and she had accepted the long-enduring Siencyn, although in that passionate, fiery little heart of hers, Ivor Parry still had the first place. "Well," she said, examining the brass tips of her clocs,[3] "what did Gwladys say about the news?" He was startled at the suddenness of the question, but knew better from experience than to try to parry Gwen's thrusts. "She was very glad," he said, "and so was Nani——" "I suppose so! And was she glad to get her glee book?" "Yes, indeed!" said Ivor, rising and standing in the doorway, a black figure against the crimson sky. "Little witch!" he said to himself, "I wonder how she knew; but what doesn't she know! They said her grandmother was a witch, and her ways have descended to her granddaughter, I think." As a fact, Gwen, returning through the fields from the singing class, had seen him stoop to pick up the book. Ivor was not absolutely free from superstition; what dweller on that rocky coast is? With his hands thrust deep in his pockets, he sauntered down the road to learn what tidings 'n'wncwl[4] Jos (the general newsmonger of the village) had of the Skylark which should have arrived with the morning's tide. Meanwhile Gwen had carried her bit of work to the penucha[5] and had locked it up in the shining, black "coffor," which contained the wardrobe of the family. She saw her mother pass the window, carrying her red pitcher to the well, and knowing she was alone in the house, sat down in front of the fire and gave the rein to her thoughts, and even spoke them aloud.
- 33. "She was very glad, no doubt, and they rejoiced together! Oh, yes, Ivor, I have guessed your secret long ago, and if she were not such a fool, such a simple baby, she would have seen it, too; but she doesn't, that's one comfort! Llances![6] But never mind, it wasn't for nothing that I lived with my grandmother. No, it wasn't for nothing that I sat with her night after night over the peat fire! I found out much from her," and rising, she stamped her foot and clenched her hand, and an evil look came into the eyes which looked so cunningly under those half-closed lids. "I hate her!" she said; "and granny has told me that if you have reason to hate anyone you can work them harm without going near them or touching them! And haven't I reason? 'You can keep your mind,' she said, 'so constantly fixed upon that one wish that your enemy will not prosper.' Wel, indeed! perhaps that is nonsense! I will marry Siencyn Owen—poor lad, he is faithful and true, and I will make him a good wife—but 'tis Gwladys I will often be thinking about!" She paused a moment, and approached the little window, through which the glow of the setting sun lighted up her face; it was not pleasant to look upon. "Yes, happy thoughts!" she said, with a sneering smile. "Granny!" she cried, turning back to the gloom of the little room, and raising her hand above her head. "Granny, granny! I wish you were here to help me! and, who knows, perhaps you are! There was no love lost between you and Nani Price!" Almost as she spoke the last words Ivor Parry returned. "I am as hungry as a hound," he said. "Supper then directly; and here comes mother," she said. And as the three sat at their supper of barley bread and fresh butter, with the addition, of course, of a bowl of cawl,[7] no one who looked in through that little window would have guessed that such stormy passions had, a few minutes ago, filled the heart of one of the party.
- 34. Next day the large doors of the sailmaker's shed stood wide open, letting in a flood of sunshine and a refreshing breeze, which bore on its wings the scent of the seaweed lying strewn on the shore below. Inside the air was full of merry talk and laughter, while the call of the seagulls and the plash of the waves on the shore came in with the wind. The Mishteer was busily engaged with his foreman arranging the sails which had been ordered from Aberython, occasionally going to the doorway to look up the hill for the waggon which was to carry them away. He was about forty years of age, broad-shouldered and firmly built, his head, covered with closely curling jet black hair, was perfect in pose and shape; exposure to all weathers had browned a naturally dark skin. His black beard and moustache were trimly and carefully kept. His teeth were unusually white and even, the eyes which he was shading from the glare of the morning sun were black as night, but had in their depths such a bright sparkle, that they suggested the idea of black diamonds. His open shirt and upturned sleeves disclosed a brawny chest and muscular arms. Everything about him betokened firmness and strength; and as he turned round to address his workmen, his voice, though pleasant, and even musical, made itself heard clearly above the loud talking and laughing. "Here, somebody!" and instantly there was a hush in the hubbub, while two or three men and women came forward to show their alacrity. "That knot of boys down the valley! I believe they are ill-treating some helpless creature in the stream!" Before he had finished his orders, one of the workmen had clapped his hat on, and, running down to the river, was soon dispersing the little crowd of evil-doers. "The Mishteer has seen you!" was all he said; but this was quite enough to make the dirty little brown hands loosen their hold on the stones, and the sun-burnt heads droop with shame, while they stared with round, repentant eyes at the half-drowned dog which they had been pelting with stones, and which the messenger was carrying gently away. "Another lucky dog like myself!" mused Will, as his long strides carried him up the bank to the sail-shed.
- 35. "Who were the boys?" asked Hugh Morgan, looking down at the frightened, shivering dog. "Ah, Shân Pentraeth's! Well, none of you boys are to play with them for a week; d'ye hear?" "Or goren,[8] Mishteer," came in answer from ten or a dozen boys working together at one end of the shed. Hugh Morgan having made a bed for the dog on a coil of ropes, turned once more to the doorway as Deio Pantgwyn appeared leading a horse and cart. "Where's your waggon and two horses?" asked the Mishteer, with a darkening look on his face, which his work-people all knew betokened a storm. "Wel, Mishteer, Cymro hurt his leg last night, and he was limping this morning, so I could not bring him; but it's all right, Flower can easily take the load herself." "Stop, Deio; didn't you tell Ivor Parry last night that we ought to have three horses? and now you want one to take the load! Go home again, and learn that no one who works for me shall be cruel to any animal——" "But I thought the sails must be on the quay to-day?" "So they ought; and you will put me to great expense, and Captain Morris to great inconvenience; but that horse shall not carry that load—so off you go!" Deio stormed and swore; but the Mishteer was inexorable, and, turning to Ivor, said: "Leave everything as it is until the full moon tide, and I will go myself to-night to explain to Captain Morris——" "Will I borrow another horse to harness with Flower?" Deio shouted from outside, "since you think so much more of a horse than of a man's time and trouble."
- 36. "It would be too late now, and I shall not want you again." Deio turned his horse and cart away, and the little incident seemed to pass out of Hugh Morgan's mind, for he turned his attention to some other section of his work with apparent equanimity. "I have been thinking lately, Ivor, that we ought to have one of those machines for rolling up and holding the work in place for the women. See Gwladys Price now, how she has to drag at that sail to sew on the reef points." "Yes," said Ivor, "it would lighten the work very much, no doubt; but it does not seem to weigh very much on her strength or spirits just at present, does it?" and the two men looked over to where a knot of girls were listening with evident amusement to 'n'wncwl Jos, who, on the strength of the fact that he took in a weekly newspaper, constituted himself the general dispenser of news. Every day he made his appearance in the sail-shed brimful of information, and should the newspapers be wanting in anything interesting, he did not hesitate to invent new or garnish up old tales from the store of his memory. In personal appearance he resembled a bundle of knobs; in fact, had not a wooden leg somewhat broken the circular outline, he would have looked like a big knob himself. His head was certainly like a black knob, and his face, the colour of new polished mahogany, was made up of shining knobs, his nose being round and smooth, his cheeks the same, especially one which always held a large quid of tobacco, and his fat, brown fists were like two more knobs. One of his eyes was always closed as if in a chronic wink, while the other was unusually wide open. It was an undecided question in the village whether the closed eyelid covered an eye or not. As a matter of fact, it did not, for he had lost it when quite a young man, and it was the account of this event which was now exciting the laughter of the women gathered around him.
- 37. "Come, let us have a share of the fun," said Hugh Morgan, approaching, his eyes fixed smilingly on Gwladys Price's laughing face. She held her sides, and threw her head back in a fit of laughter, her dimpled face and white teeth looking very charming in their abandon of mirth. "Oh, dear, dear! its 'n'wncwl Jos! Oh, dyr anwl, I have laughed till my sides ache." "Yes, there's a girl she is to laugh," said 'n'wncwl Jos, putting in the stops with his wooden leg, "in spite of those serious brown eyes of hers. Hegh, hegh, hegh! I'll back her for a good laugh against any other girl in Mwntseison." (Stump, stump.) "I was only telling her how I lost my eye long ago, and that's how she takes it! Hegh, hegh! true as I am here. I was in the Bay of Loango, out there in Africa, me sitting on the edge of the ship, The Queen of the South, Captain Lucas, and whew! back I went among the sharks. In a moment an old ghost of a fellow darted after me. 'Here I'm going,' says I to myself, 'safe to Davey Jones' locker, and in a nasty conveyance, too!' (There she is laughing again, look!) The shark stopped a minute just to take a good look at me, when what should I feel but a sharp hook in my eye. I knew at once 'twas the rope and the hook from the ship, and Diwedd anwl![9] I'd rather have forty hooks in my eye than be swallowed by that old white ghost. I was reaching the sandy bottom just as the hook caught me, and partly with the pain, and partly with joy, I danced and floundered about ('twas before I lost my leg) and kicked up such a shindy, that I made a thick cloud of sand about me, and the old shark backed a bit, and I tugged the rope, and they pulled me up." "By the hook in thine eye?" asked Gwen sarcastically, for 'n'wncwl Jos's stories were always taken cum grano salis. "Diwedd anwl! No! I took that out pretty sharp—hegh! hegh! hegh!— and fastened it in the band of my trousses. 'Fforwel, old boy!' sez I, with my thumb to my nose, though I was nearly losing my breath; and as true as I'm here, the old fellow was offended"—(stump, stump)—"hegh! hegh! hegh! —for he made a spring at me, and snapped at my leg, just as they were pulling me out of the water. If it wasn't for my trousses he'd have had her off! I have thanked the Lord hundred thousand times for those good, strong trousses, so glad I am that the old fellow didn't have the pleasure of his
- 38. dinner from me! not so much for the worth of the leg (for she often gave me trouble with rheumatics—hegh! hegh!—and she does now, though she's buried safe in Glasgow! True as I'm here she does!), but to spite the old shark! 'Not for the worth of the loaf,' as the woman said, 'but for the roguery of the baker!'—hegh! hegh! hegh!" (Stump, stump, stump.) "Keep the rest till to-night, 'n'wncwl Jos," said Hugh Morgan, joining in the laugh which followed the story; "I'm coming in to have a pipe with you. How is Mari?" "Mari!" said the old man, with a strangely softened look on his sunburnt, shining face. "Mari! oh, she's very well, calon fâchl[10] she is well, indeed; though, now I remember, she had a headache—there's a brute I am to forget!" and off he stumped in great haste to make up for his forgetfulness. Gwladys dried her tears of laughter, and applied herself with renewed attention to the huge sail, of which she held one corner, while Gwen sewed at the other. "'Tis heavy for thee, lass," said Hugh Morgan, drawing near, and rolling a log under the corner which Gwladys was working at. The girl smiled, but looked a little embarrassed by the Mishteer's kindness. "Oh, no! no heavier than Gwen's corner, Mishteer, and I am quite as strong." It was said innocently, and Hugh knew it was; but a deep flush overspread his face as he turned to the other girl, and offered her the same help. "The same log will do for both," he said. "Oh, no need," said Gwen, with a slight sneer in her voice, as much as she dared show the Mishteer; "of course this corner is lighter than the other."
- 39. As Hugh passed on to another set of workers, she looked after him with a slowly dawning perception in her eyes. "He is very kind to thee," she said, looking at Gwladys under her half- closed lids; "what has come over him?" "Wel, indeed, he is always kind, isn't he? even to his dogs. See how that little half-drowned dog wags his tail when he passes." Gwen did not answer; but as her companion proceeded with her work she looked at her furtively from time to time with hatred and jealousy in her eyes. The afternoon found them again at their work. Gwen had had time, while she drank her cawl and ate her barley bread at dinner, to arrange her ideas. "Art coming to my wedding on Monday?" she asked carelessly. "Oh, anwl, of course! Thee'st asked me and mother, and we are coming." "Madlen is to be my bridesmaid, and Ivor Parry will be the teilwr.[11] Who shall I find for thee? Dye Pentraeth? I have heard thee art fond of him!" "Dye Pentraeth?" said Gwladys, with perfect composure. "Wel, indeed! he will do very well for me; I will get on all right with him; but I don't think thou hast ever heard I am fond of him, Gwen; thee hast made a mistake." "Perhaps, indeed!" said Gwen, with a yawn. "Was it Ivor Parry, perhaps? I didn't take much notice." Now, indeed, Gwladys was moved, and Gwen watched her mercilessly as a crimson flush overspread cheeks, forehead, and neck. "They were right, too, I see," she said, in a sarcastic tone. "Wel, wel, merch i, 'tis to be hoped he will be pleased when I tell him." "They were wrong!" said Gwladys, covering her face with both hands for a moment; and then, standing up, she indignantly threw the corner of the
- 40. sail away from her. "Thee hast insulted me enough! To say I loved a man who did not love me! Wel wyr!" and her fiery Welsh blood surged through her veins, her bosom heaved, and her eyes flashed, and Gwen was satisfied. "Twt, twt," she said, "there's no need for a beacon fire! I wasn't thinking what I said——" "Wilt tell him such a thing?" said Gwladys; "if thee dost, I will tell the Mishteer!" "Not I!" said Gwen; "I have other things to think about." And sitting down to her work again, Gwladys' quick temper subsided as suddenly as it had arisen, and they parted at the end of the day with no outward signs of anger. Later on, when the sun had set and the sea lisped and murmured down in the little harbour, Gwladys took her creel on her shoulders, and made her way across the wet, shining sands. Her destination was a creek just round the reef of rocks that bounded the harbour on the south side, where Nance Owen gathered her laver weed every day, leaving it in a shady place until Gwladys, to whom the work was a labour of love, could carry it home for her, as she was too weak and infirm herself. The moon rose round and golden behind the hills, and already threw black shadows across the beach. Gwladys did not sing as usual, but walked slowly with bent head. Gwen's words rankled in her mind and troubled her much. Her love for Ivor had been so deeply buried, so carefully hidden even from herself, that it pained and shocked her to have it thus dragged into the garish light. But —— "Was Gwen right? did she love him?" and with flushed cheeks she was forced to confess to herself, "Yes—I love him; but he shall never know it!" After crossing the beach, she found the tide was not low enough for her to reach the further creek; so, sitting down, she waited, looking out over the sea which the sunset glow tinted with a coppery red. Suddenly a boat came round the point, and in it Gwladys recognised Ivor. As the prow of the boat grated on the shingle, she rose, and stood uncertain what to do.
- 41. "Hello! Gwladys, thee'st mistaken the time to-night, for the tide won't be down for another half hour. See! I have brought the laver weed for thee." And, jumping lightly on the shore, he filled the creel which she carried on her shoulders. "Would'st like a row, lass?" "Wel, indeed," said Gwladys, "I haven't been on the water a long time; but my mother won't know where I am, whatever." "Oh! come, we won't be long——" "Wel, indeed, I don't know," she said again, but at the same time allowing herself to be helped into the boat. Slipping the creel from her shoulders, she took the second oar, for she was as much accustomed to the boats and the rowing as any sailor in the place, having spent the greater part of her childhood on the shore and on the bay. They rowed silently for some time out towards the sunset, where the coppery glow on the water was beginning to catch the silver of the moon on its ripples; then shipping their oars, they floated idly on. Gwladys bent over the side of the boat and drew her fingers through the smooth waters. The moon shone full on Ivor's handsome and sunburnt face. They did not speak much, but in the hearts of both arose a full tide of content and happiness. They were alone on the heaving, whispering waters; sea and sky seemed to fold them in a mantle of love and beauty; the bewitching softness of the hour threw its glamour over them; and though the strong influence of the situation was felt by both with all the fervour of youth and romance, they kept their feelings under strong restraint, and their conversation was confined to ordinary commonplaces. "Here's a splendid evening!" said Ivor, stooping also towards the deep green water in the shadow of the boat. His voice was low and tender, and Gwladys drooped her eyes to her fingers rippling through the water. "Yes, beautiful! And last night was as beautiful!" "Not quite," said Ivor; "there has never been such a sunset—such a moonrise—I think."
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