And to see her look at me
like _that_--it was a cruel sight, Mr. Blyth, I can tell you. Such a
look you never see'd in all your life, Mr. Blyth.'
'Then I take it she's in the house now?' said the landlord.
'She goes prowlin' about all day among the hills, as if she was
a-lookin' for somebody; and she talks to somebody as she calls the
Tywysog o'r Niwl, an' I know that's Welsh for the "Prince o' the
Mist"; but back she comes at night. She talks to herself a good deal;
and she sings to herself the Welsh gillies what Mrs. Davies larnt her
in a v'ice as seems as if she wur a-singin' in her sleep, but it's
very sweet to hear it. Yesterday I crep' near her when she was
a-sittin' down lookin' at herself in that 'ere llyn where the water's
so clear, "Knockers' Llyn," as they calls it, where her and me and
Rhona Boswell used to go. And I heard her say she was "cussed by
Henry's feyther." And then I heard her talk to somebody agin, as she
called the Prince of the Mist; but it's herself as she's a-talkin'
to all the while.'
'Cursed by Henry's father! What curse could any superstitious mystic
call down upon the head of Winifred? The heaven that would answer a
call of that kind would be a heaven for zanies and tomfools!' I
shouted, in a paroxysm of rage against the entire besotted human
race.
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