'Rather shabbily dressed, with blue eyes, and a very pale face?' 'Had she a big black dog along, sir?' asked a boy who came from within the house. 'I think she had.' 'Then granny gave her a cup of tea when she asked for some water, and I gave the dog a piece of my bread and cheese,' said the boy. 'There's sixpence for you, my lad,' said Mr Prothero. 'Was there a young man with the girl?' 'Nobody was along, sir.' 'Which way did she go?' 'By there, to Dryslwyn, sir.' Mr Prothero rode on to the picturesque village bearing this name. The old ruined castle looked down upon him from its curiously formed, tumulus-looking elevation, as he stopped before a neat farm-house. 'Good morning, Mrs Lewis.' 'Walk in, Mr Prothero. We were talking of you by now. There was a young 'ooman by here yesterday, and John Lewis said he was seure she had your dog with her. She went away so fast, that I hadn't time to ask about the dog.' 'Which way did she go?' 'Down the Carmarthen road.' 'Good morning, Mrs Lewis, thank you. I must look after my dog.' Mr Prothero found it easiest to ask for the girl with a large black dog, and traced them to within a mile of Carmarthen. He stopped at a small roadside inn to have a glass of _cwrw da_.[Footnote: Good ale] Here he asked the landlady of Gladys. 'See her and the dog! Is seure. They come here in the evening, and she asked for a slice of bread and a drink of water, and took out sixpence to pay for it. She gave all the bread to the dog, and my master, who is fond of dogs, told me to give 'em both a good supper. Poor dear! she couldn't help crying; and my master, who is tender-hearted when he sees a girl do be crying, tell me to give her and the dog a good supper and a bed in the barn, which I did, is seure.' Mr Prothero paid handsomely for his ale, and having learnt that Gladys and Lion went straight to Carmarthen, went thither also. He made some few inquiries at the small inns that he passed, but gained no information. He accordingly rode through the town, and took the direct route to Hob's Point, whence, he knew, she would probably sail for Ireland. The afternoon was far advanced, still he rode on. He began to feel as anxious as he was angry and annoyed, and declared to himself that he wouldn't turn back until he had found her. He soon began to track her again. All the little boys on the way had noticed the big dog, and could point out the route he and Gladys had pursued. He stopped at one cottage where the mistress told him that she had made the girl sit down in the porch, because she looked so tired; and at another where she had asked how far it was to Pembrokeshire. He had ridden about thirty miles, and twilight was creeping on. He began to think of the necessity of finding a night's lodging, and once more consigned Gladys and the Irish generally to any distant region where he should never see them again.