At first the mist appeared to be nearly cleared away.

As we proceeded, however, large sheets began to roll up the mountain sides, and by the time we reached the summit were completely shrouded in vapour.

The night, however, was not very dark, and we found our way tolerably well, though once in descending I had nearly tumbled into the nant or dingle, now on our left hand.

The bushes and trees, seen indistinctly through the mist, had something the look of goblins, and brought to my mind the elves, which Ab Gwilym of old saw, or thought he saw, in a somewhat similar situation:-- "In every hollow dingle stood Of wry-mouth'd elves a wrathful brood." Drenched to the skin, but uninjured in body and limb, we at length reached Llangollen..