The stranger in the mist - Bulgaria

The stranger in the mist

retold by Tomi Martinov

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Giles Hampton was pleased with an invitation from his old friend Beverley to visit him in Wales. Beverley had moved in this country and built a house himself near a mountain. The house name, Fablan Fawr, was based on the name of an ancient church some yards away from it.  There was another reason for Giles to come there too, his eagerness to study the geology of the region.

The two friends had gone on several short geological expeditions. They had also shot and visited some friends together.

But one day while his friend was having business in the local town, Giles decided to have a trip to a place on the other of the mountains. The weather wasn’t so good. It was cloudy and misty. Giles prepared his equipment and started the journey, keeping in mind the route back to Fablan Fawr. He was persuaded that he wouldn’t lose himself. Giles had looked out a waterfall, an old tree, a small lake in the mountain before. But in the mist, he took the wrong path and could not recognize the landmarks he had noticed earlier. He tried to find the right direction but it was not possible for him. He became worried because he knew his friend would be very angry with him. Giles couldn’t let Beverley to organize a search party and bother him at all.

________2_________

While Giles was sitting down on the ground and thinking what to do, he heard a sound of footsteps near to him. In the mist he saw an old man with a dog who came towards him. Giles shouted at him and the man answered in Welsh. Giles tried to explain to the stranger that he had lost in the mountain. It seemed that the man understood the words “Fablan Fawr “. He pulled out an old map and pointed Giles where he had found himself. Although the old man spoke in Welsh, he was able to show Giles which path he should take and pushed the map into his hands. Giles was very excited and thanked the stranger cordially. Then he took the way along the path. He walked and from time to time checked his route on the map. Giles didn’t know that the old man’s map was out of date because the path to Fablan Fawr had been destroyed. He understood it when he would have fallen over the cliff and been badly hurt or killed. He was seriously worried. Fortunately, Giles had a lucky escape. He hadn’t got a plan what to do, so he decided to sit and wait for the mist to clear.

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An hour later Giles heard a voice of a man shouting from the hillside below. He recognized the voice of his friend’s servant, Parry. Giles answered back it immediately. He was rescued by Parry who had set out to search for him and was extremely grateful to the servant for his help. Although, Giles had decided not to mention to his host about the incident he had, at dinner he told Beverley some words that he had lost his way in the mist. After hearing it, Beverley remembered a story about a man who was killed and his body was found at the bottom of the same cliff some years ago. He asked his servant to tell them what exactly was happened. After Parry told them he fetched his master the paper where the story was described too. 

The Stranger in the Mist
by A. N. L. Munby
retold by Rosemary Border

1

Giles Hampton was spending a short holiday in Wales. A friend of his had recently sold his business in Liverpool and had moved to Wales. This friend, whose name was Beverley, had built himself a house in Caernar- vonshire, near the Snowdon mountains. There was an ancient church called Fablan Fawr a few hundred yards away from his house, so Beverley called his new house Fablan Fawr too.

Giles was very interested in geology. He loved studying rocks and stones. Since that part of Wales is of particular interest to the geologist, Giles was very glad indeed to receive Beverley's invitation to visit him. Giles arrived at Fablan Fawr on the evening of October 10. The house was very modern and extremely comfortable. It stood between the mountains and the Conway Valley. A few hundred yards behind the house lay the steep, rocky mountains.

The weather was fine, and for the first week of his stay Giles went with Beverley on several short geological expeditions. They also went shooting together once or twice, and they visited neighbours in the district. But on October 18 Beverley had business in the local market town. So Giles decided to make an all-day excursion to a place on the other side of the mountains, about ten miles away. The sky was cloudy when Giles set off after an early breakfast. In his bag were his sandwiches and his geological hammers, and information from Beverley's servant, Parry, about his route across the mountains.

 It was after twelve o'clock when Giles arrived and began unpacking his hammers. The sun had come out, and he was hot, tired and uncomfortable. But he soon forgot his discomfort when he examined the many interesting rocks. It was half-past three before he had finished. He packed his hammers and notebook away in his bag again and started on the journey back to Fablan Fawr. By this time the sky was cloudy again. As he walked along, light rain began to fall. Then, as he climbed higher, a thick, damp mist came down and covered everything. Soon the mist grew thicker and he could see only a few feet in front of him.

On his earlier journey across the mountains Giles had looked out for landmarks - a waterfall, an old tree, a small lake. He thought these would help him to find his way back to Fablan Fawr. But in the mist everything looked strange and different. Soon he crossed a stream which he did not recognize. Then he knew that he had taken the wrong path.

For nearly half a mile he went back the way he had come, only to become more lost and confused than before.

`This is no good,' he thought. He sat down for a few moments to consider his position. The thought of a cold, uncomfortable night alone on the hillside did not particularly worry him. But he knew that Beverley would be very anxious. Giles did not want to worry his friend. `He'll come out to search for me,' thought Giles, `and bring the neighbours too. I can't let him organize a search party. I really can't.'

2

Suddenly he heard the sound of footsteps on the hillside above him. He shouted, and a voice answered him in Welsh. From out of the mist came an old man with a huge dog by his side. Although the man was old, he stood straight and tall. He wore a heavy cloak of dark cloth that came down to his ankles. He wore no hat and his hair was long and white. His big red face shone with kindness.

The old man spoke again in Welsh. Giles made signs to show that he did not understand. The old man smiled kindly. `I'm lost,' said Giles, making more signs. `I want to go to Fablan Fawr.'

The old man seemed to understand. `Fablan Fawr,' he repeated several times, and smiled again. Then he felt inside his long cloak and pulled out a map. He spread the map out on a stone in front of him.

Beverley's new house was not, of course, on the map. But the church of Fablan Fawr was clearly shown. With his thin old hand the stranger pointed to a place on the map. He spoke again in Welsh, then pointed again. `He is telling me that we are here,' said Giles to himself. Then the old man pointed out the path that Giles must take to reach Fablan Fawr. He did this three times, to make sure that Giles understood. Then he pushed the map into Giles's hands. Giles tried to refuse this gift, but the old man only laughed and smiled. Giles thanked him warmly and pushed the map into his coat pocket. Then he set out along the path that the old man had shown him. After a few steps he turned. He saw a shape through the mist, standing and watching him. He waved his hand and set off again. The next time he turned round, the old man had disappeared.

Giles walked fast. The mist had become thicker than before, but the path was a good one. From time to time he checked his route on the map. Soon the path led him down a very steep hillside. In the mist, Giles could see only a few feet ahead, so he moved very carefully. Suddenly his foot turned on a sharp stone and he almost fell. That stone probably saved his life. It flew up from under his feet and rolled down the steep path. He heard it rolling faster and faster, then the noise stopped. A few seconds later Giles heard a crash as the stone hit the ground hundreds of feet below. The path had led him to the edge of a cliff! Giles picked up another stone and dropped it. Again he heard the distant crash as it fell over the cliff. He looked at the map again. There was no cliff on the route that the old man had shown him. For the first time, Giles became seriously worried. He sat down miserably on a large rock, took out his pipe, and found a match to light it. `Well,' he thought, `I'll just have to sit and wait for the mist to clear.'

   

3

Perhaps it was an hour later when he heard a voice shouting on the hillside below. Giles shouted back as loudly as he could. Slowly the shouts got nearer. He recognized the voice of Beverley's servant, Parry, who had become anxious about Giles's safety, and had set out to search for him. Beverley himself had not returned from the town. Giles was extremely grateful for this: he hated to trouble his friend.

Parry led Giles safely back towards the house. Giles walked slowly and quietly, thankful to be rescued. But for some reason he was unwilling to tell Parry about the stranger in the mist. He explained that he had taken the wrong path. In less than an hour he was changing his wet clothes.

At dinner, too, he kept quiet about it, simply telling Beverley that he had lost his way in the mist.
`I suppose I took the wrong path,' he said, `and I found myself at the edge of a cliff.'

`You had a very lucky escape,' said Beverley. `There have been some nasty accidents in these hills. A man was killed about four years ago. I believe he was found at the bottom of the same cliff. That was before I came here, of course.' He turned to his servant. `I'm sure you remember the accident, Parry,' he said. `Am I right? Was it the same place?'

`It certainly was, sir,' said the servant. `It was a gentleman from London. They buried him in the churchyard here. I was working for Captain Trevor at that time. He let us all go to the burial. Mr Roberts buried him and prayed over the grave. It was all in the local newspaper. I kept the newspaper - it was the Caernarvon and District News. I'll fetch it if you like, sir.'
`That's a good idea, Parry,' said his master. In a few minutes Parry returned with an old newspaper. Beverley read the report aloud:

`Early on Wednesday morning the body of a young man was found at the bottom of the cliff at Adwy-yr-Eryon. A doctor examined the body and decided that the man had been dead for several hours. The unfortunate man was Mr John Stevenson, a young lawyer from London. Mr Stevenson had been on holiday in Wales, and he had been exploring our beautiful mountains and valleys. When he did not return to his hotel in the evening, Captain Trevor, a local man, bravely organized a search party. Unfortunately, the thick mist made their work more difficult.

It appears that the dead man took the wrong path in the mist, and fell over the cliff, hitting the sharp rocks below. In the dead man's pocket was a copy of a very old, out-of-date map. It showed a long-disused path over the hill. Of course, as everyone in the district knows, the path was destroyed many years ago by the Great Landslide. That was a terrible disaster which carried away a large part of the hillside.

The sad death of Mr Stevenson should be a warning to everyone. Never depend on an out-of-date map. A modern, accurate map of the district is available from the offices of this newspaper, price nine pence.'

   

4

When Giles heard about the out-of-date map in the dead man's pocket, he was very excited. He told Beverley the whole story of the stranger in the mist. Beverley was very interested.
    `Do you remember anything about a map, Parry?' he asked his servant.
    `I certainly do, sir,' said Parry. `It was a very old map. Mr Roberts still has it, I believe.'
    `Then will you please send a message to Mr Roberts for me?' said Beverley. `Give him my best wishes, and ask him to come and have coffee with us. And ask him to bring the old map with him, please.' Parry hurried away to carry out his master's orders.
    `I have the map that the old man gave me today,' said Giles. `It is still in my coat pocket. I'll go and get it.'
    He fetched the map and spread it out on the table. The two men studied it carefully. In the mist Giles had not noticed anything strange about the map. But in the brightly lit dining-room the map looked very unusual indeed. It was on thick paper that looked yellow with age. The writing was very old, with long Ss that looked like Fs.
    `Look at that!' said Beverley, pointing to some writing at the bottom of the map. `Madog ap Rhys, 1707.'
    Just then Mr Roberts arrived. He listened carefully to Giles's story. Then he took a map out of his pocket. It was exactly like the map that lay on the table.
    `I've always wondered how the dead man got that map,' he said. `It's very unusual. There is only one other copy, and that's in the museum in Caernarvon.'
    `And who was Madog ap Rhys?' asked Giles.
    `He was a rather strange, lonely old man,' said Mr Roberts. `He lived alone on the hillside and spent most of his time praying. He died in 1720. Of course that was before the landslide destroyed the path to Adwy-yr-Eryon. When- ever there was a mist, Madog ap Rhys walked among the hills in his long dark cloak, with his dog beside him. He drew this map. He always carried a copy about with him, to give to travellers who had lost their way. Some local people say that his spirit still walks among the hills, searching for lost travellers. But that's only a story. I don't take it very seriously.'
    `How sad!' said Giles, after Mr Roberts had drunk his coffee and left. `Madog ap Rhys was a good, kind man. He only wanted to help. But he led poor Stevenson to his death, and he almost killed me.'