The agent, Captain Vaughan, a keen, middle-aged man, had often told him that a monthly interview would be sufficient and more than sufficient. "I'm afraid you find all this detail terribly tiring," he would say. "And you know it's not really necessary. I've one or two good men under me, and between us we manage to keep things in very decent order. I do assure you, you needn't bother. As a matter of fact; if I brought you a statement once a quarter, it would be quite enough."

But Teilo Morgan would not entertain any such laxity.

"It doesn't tire me in the least," he always replied to the agent's remonstrances. "It does me good. You know a man must have exercise in some form or another. I get mine on your legs. I'm still enjoying that tramp of yours up to Castelly-Bwch three years ago. You remember?"

Captain Vaughan seemed at a loss for a moment.

"Let me see," he said. "Three years ago? Castelly-Bwch? Now, what was I doing up there?"

"You can't have forgotten. Don't you recollect? It was just after the great snowstorm. You went up to see that the roof was all right, and fell into a fifteen-foot drift on the way."

"I remember now," said Vaughan. "I should think I do remember. I don't think I've been so cold and so wet before or since—worse than the Balkans. I wasn't prepared for it. And when I got through the snow, there was an infernal mountain stream still going strong beneath it all."

"But there was a good fire at the pub when you got there?"

"Halfway up the chimney; coal and wood mixed; roaring, I've never seen such a blaze: six foot by three, I should think. And I told them to mix it strong."

"I wish I'd been there," said the squire. "Let me see; you recommended that some work should be done on the place, didn't you? Re-roofing, wasn't it?"

"Yes, the slates were in a bad way, and in the following March we replaced them by stone tiles, extra heavy. Slates are not good enough, halfway up the mountain. To the west, of course, the place is more or less protected by the wood, but the south-east pine end is badly exposed and was letting the wet through, so I ran up an oak frame, nine inches from the wall, and fixed tiles on that. You remember passing the estimate?"

"Of course, of course. And it's done all right? No trouble since?"

"No trouble with wind or weather. When I was there last, the fat daughter was talking about going to service in Cardiff. I don't think Mrs. Samuel fancied it much. And young William wants to go down the pit when he leaves school."

"Thomas is staying to help his father with the farm, I hope? And how is the farm doing now?"

"Fairly well. They pay their rent regularly, as you know; In spite of what I tell them, they will try to grow wheat. It's much too high up."

"How do the people on the mountain like the new parson?"

"They get on with him all right. He tries to persuade them to come to Mass, as he calls it, and they stay away and go to meeting.