Between two rugged hills, which rose abruptly from the clear, green waters of Cardigan Bay, the Gwendraeth, a noisy little river, found its way from the moors above to the sands which formed the entrance from the sea to the village of Mwntseison. In the narrow valley, or "cwm," through which the fussy little streamlet ran, the whole village lay. It looked like nothing more than a cluster of white shells left by the storm in a chink of the rocks, the cottages being perched in the most irregular confusion wherever sufficient space could be found between the rocky knolls for a house and garden.…
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