BEGGARS ON HORSEBACK 



level glide of the window along the landscape, 

 and endeavoured to catch at the quiet existence 

 of the country roads as the train took them at 

 a stride. The bounteous grave stillness of the 

 Welsh highways and mountain -fields was ours 

 no more ; that roomy calm, whose incidents were 

 a multiplication of peace, must intrench itself 

 in memory behind the dingy preoccupation of 

 catching a train at Chester, the crush of ugly, 

 self-centred people, the blase porters, the impor- 

 tunities of little boys with cups of strong tea. 



The climax of a variety of shocks to the rural 

 mood was reached at Holyhead with the dis- 

 covery that our luggage, sent from Bettwys by 

 goods train, was not awaiting us. Whether or not 

 to start without it was a matter of poignant uncer- 

 tainty, even of frenzy, up to the moment when 

 the gangway of the Kingstown boat was hauled 

 in ; while the officials did not conceal their amuse- 

 ment, and the porter of the Station Hotel waited 

 immovable, in his red coat, foreknowing the end. 



