His father had left Llangollen the day
before for Chester, where he expected to be detained some days. I
told him we should be most happy to come. He then asked me to take
a walk. I agreed with pleasure, and we set out, intending to go to
Llansilio at the western end of the valley and look at the church.
The church was an ancient building. It had no spire, but had the
little erection on its roof, so usual to Welsh churches, for
holding a bell.
In the churchyard is a tomb in which an old squire of the name of
Jones was buried about the middle of the last century. There is a
tradition about this squire and tomb to the following effect.
After the squire's death there was a lawsuit about his property, in
consequence of no will having been found. It was said that his
will had been buried with him in the tomb, which after some time
was opened, but with what success the tradition sayeth not.
In the evening we went to the Vicarage. Besides the family and
ourselves there was Mr R- and one or two more. We had a very
pleasant party; and as most of those present wished to hear
something connected with Spain, I talked much about that country,
sang songs of Germania, and related in an abridged form Lope de
Vega's ghost story, which is decidedly the best ghost story in the
world.
