Page:My people stories of the peasantry of West Wales.djvu/72



“Simon Penrhos, one hundred of pounds you’ve got in the bank, man. Give me that one hundred this morning before the wedding. If you don’t do that you shall see.”

Simon shivered. He was parting with his life. It was his life and Beca’s life. She had made it, turning over the heather, and wringing it penny by penny from the stubborn earth. He, too, had helped her. He had served his neighbours, and thieved from them. He wept.

“He asks too much,” he cried. “Too much.”

“Come, now, indeed,” said William Jenkins. “Do you act religious by the wench fach.”

Simon went with him to the bank, and with a smudge and a cross blotted out his account. Then he witnessed the completion of the bargain in Capel Baptists, which is beyond the Sycamore Tree.

The bridegroom took the bride home to