'Well, Winnie, I must say that the way in which our Gypsy friend manipulated you, and the way in which she manipulated me, shows a method that would have done credit to any madness.' 'You? How did she trick you?' I was determined not to talk about myself till I had felt my way. 'Winnie, dear,' I said, 'seeing you is such a surprise, and my illness has left me so weak, that I must wait before talking about myself. I shall be more able to do this after I have learnt more of what has befallen you. You say that Sinfi proposed to bring you to Wales; but where were you when she did so? And what brought you into contact with Sinfi again after--after--after you and I were parted in Raxton?' 'Ah! that is a strange story indeed,' said Winifred. 'It bewilders me to recall it as much as it will bewilder you when you come to hear it. I, too, seem to have been ill, and quite unconscious for months and months.' 'Winnie,' I said, 'tell me this strange story about yourself. Tell it in your own way, and do not let me interrupt you by a word. Whenever you see that I am about to speak, stop me--put your hand over my mouth.' 'But where am I to begin?' 'Begin from our first meeting on the sands on the night of the landslip.' But while I spoke I thought I observed her looking at the breakfast provided by Sinfi with something like the same wistful expression that was on her face on that morning forgotten by her but remembered by me so well, when she breakfasted so heartily on the same spot. 'Winnie,' I said, 'this mountain air has given me a voracious appetite. I wonder whether you could manage to eat some of these good things provided by our theatrical manageress?' 'I wonder whether I could,' said Winnie; 'I'll try--if you'll ask me no questions, but talk about Snowdon and watch the changes of the glorious morning. But we must call Sinfi.' 'No, no. I want to talk to you alone first. By the time your story is over I at least shall be ready for another breakfast, and then we will call her.' This was agreed upon, and I sat down to my second breakfast with Winnie beside Knockers' Llyn. I sat with my face opposite to the llyn, and we had scarcely begun when I noticed Sinfi's face peeping round a corner of the little gorge. Winnie's back being turned from the llyn she did not see Sinfi, who gave me a sign that her part of that performance was to be looker-on. I have not time to dwell upon what was said and done during our breakfast in this romantic place, and under these more than romantic circumstances. During the whole of the time the Knockers kept up their knockings, and it really seemed as though the good-natured goblins were expressing their welcome to the child of y Wyddfa. XV THE DAUGHTER OF SNOWDON'S STORY I