‘Come with us, young man,’ said Winifred, ‘even as thou art, and the daughters of Wales shall bid thee welcome.’

‘I will not go with you,’ said I. ‘Dost thou see that man in the ford?’

‘Who is staring at us so, and whose horse has not yet done drinking? Of course I see him.’

‘I shall turn back with him. God bless you.’

‘Go back with him not,’ said Peter; ‘he is one of those whom I like not, one of the clibberty-clabber, as Master Ellis Wyn observes - turn not with that man.’

‘Go not back with him,’ said Winifred. ‘If thou goest with that man, thou wilt soon forget all our profitable counsels; come with us.’

‘I cannot; I have much to say to him. Kosko Divvus, Mr. Petulengro.’

‘Kosko Divvus, Pal,’ said Mr. Petulengro, riding through the water; ‘are you turning back?’

I turned back with Mr. Petulengro.

Peter came running after me: ‘One moment, young man, - who and what are you?’

‘I must answer in the words of Taliesin,’ said I: ‘none can say with positiveness whether I be fish or flesh, least of all myself. God bless you both!’

‘Take this,’ said Peter, and he thrust his Welsh Bible into my hand.