Wish I
had seen him. No hope of seeing him now, except in the heavenly
Gwynfa. Wonder whether there is such a place. Tom Payne thinks
there's not. Strange fellow that Tom Payne. Norfolk man. Wish I
had never read him."
Presently I came to a little cottage with a toll-bar. Seeing a
woman standing at the door, I inquired of her the name of the gate.
"Cowslip Gate, sir."
"Has it any Welsh name?"
"None that I know of, sir."
This place was at a considerable altitude, and commanded an
extensive view to the south, west, and north. Heights upon heights
rose behind it to the east. From here the road ran to the south
for a little way nearly level, then turned abruptly to the east,
and was more steep than ever. After the turn, I had a huge chalk
cliff towering over me on the right, and a chalk precipice on my
left. Night was now coming on fast, and, rather to my uneasiness,
masses of mist began to pour down the sides of the mountain. I
hurried on, the road making frequent turnings. Presently the mist
swept down upon me, and was so thick that I could only see a few
yards before me. I was now obliged to slacken my pace, and to
advance with some degree of caution. I moved on in this way for
some time, when suddenly I heard a noise, as if a number of carts
were coming rapidly down the hill. I stopped, and stood with my
back close against the high bank. The noise drew nearer, and in a
minute I saw distinctly through the mist, horses, carts, and forms
of men passing. In one or two cases the wheels appeared to be
within a few inches of my feet. I let the train go by, and then
cried out in English, "Am I right for Gutter Vawr?"
"Hey?" said a voice, after a momentary interval.
"Am I right for Gutter Vawr?" I shouted yet louder.
"Yes sure!" said a voice, probably the same.
Then instantly a much rougher voice cried, "Who the Devil are you?"
I made no answer, but went on, whilst the train continued its way
rumbling down the mountain. At length I gained the top, where the
road turned and led down a steep descent towards the south-west.
It was now quite night, and the mist was of the thickest kind. I
could just see that there was a frightful precipice on my left, so
I kept to the right, hugging the side of the hill. As I descended
I heard every now and then loud noises in the vale, probably
proceeding from stone quarries. I was drenched to the skin, nay,
through the skin, by the mist, which I verily believe was more
penetrating than that described by Ab Gwilym. When I had proceeded
about a mile I saw blazes down below, resembling those of furnaces,
and soon after came to the foot of the hill.
