“And so do you Welsh,” said the woman; “I had no idea that it was possible for any Englishman to speak Welsh half so well.” “I wonder,” thought I to myself, “what you would have answered if I had said that you speak English execrably.” By her own account, she could read both Welsh and English. She walked by my side to the turn, and then up the left-hand road, which she said was the way to Llan Rhyadr. Coming to a cottage, she bade me good-night, and went in. The road was horribly miry; presently, as I was staggering through a slough, just after I had passed a little cottage, I heard a cracked voice crying, “I suppose you lost your way?” I recognised it as that of the old woman whom I had helped over the stile. She was now standing behind a little gate, which opened into a garden before the cottage. The figure of a man was standing near her. I told her that she was quite right in her supposition. “Ah,” said she, “you should have gone straight forward.” “If I had gone straight forward,” said I, “I must have gone over a hedge, at the corner of a field which separated two roads; instead of bidding me go straight forward, you should have told me to follow the left-hand road.” “Well,” said she, “be sure you keep straight forward now.” I asked her who the man was standing near her. “It is my husband,” said she. “Has he much English?” said I. “None at all,” said she, “for his mother was not English, like mine.” I bade her good-night, and went forward. Presently I came to a meeting of roads, and to go straight forward it was necessary to pass through a quagmire; remembering, however, the words of my friend the beldame, I went straight forward, though in so doing I was sloughed up to the knees. In a little time I came to a rapid descent, and at the bottom of it to a bridge. It was now very dark; only the corner of the moon was casting a faint light. After crossing the bridge I had one or two ascents and descents. At last I saw lights before me, which proved to be those of Llan Rhyadr. I soon found myself in a dirty little street, and, inquiring for the inn, was kindly shown by a man to one which he said was the best, and which was called the Wynstay Arms. CHAPTER LXV Inn at Llan Rhyadr—A Low Englishman—Enquiries—The Cook—A Precious Couple. The inn seemed very large, but did not look very cheerful. No other guest than myself seemed to be in it, except in the kitchen, where I heard a fellow talking English, and occasionally yelling an English song; the master and mistress of the house were civil, and lighted me a fire in what was called the Commercial Room, and putting plenty of coals in the grate, soon made the apartment warm and comfortable. I ordered dinner, or rather supper, which in about half-an-hour was brought in by the woman. The supper, whether good or bad, I despatched with the appetite of one who had walked twenty miles over hill and dale.