"Not so, Cathal, not so, son of my heart," said Domhnall, "but you saw the woman of the Sidhe," said he, "and what does it mean for you?"
"Death," said Cathal, "death, Domhnall, did I not tell you it means death for whosoever see her! But I am a soldier as you are, Domhnall, and my father before me, and his father, and his father again died in the battle; and why should not I, and no man can avoid his fate, Domhnall? But the colleen of the tresses!--why should she die now, Domhnall, why should she die now?" and Cathal spoke fiercely, "but woe that she should be here to-night, where she has been for many a year like a bird in a cage--and sure never bird had a voice so sweet--and ruin and destruction coming as swift as the blue March wind comes across the hills."
"The king will keep her here, Domhnall," he went on, answering himself; "for did not the Druid Dubthach, dead and gone now--and evil follow him and sorrow feed on his heart wherever he is--tell him that so long as the Lady Edain was kept a prisoner--ay, a prisoner, that's what she is in the grinan--and so long as she remained unwedded, the dun would be secure against all assault; but love found its way into the grinan, Domhnall, and the Lady Edain gave her heart to Ebor, son of Cailté, though never a word she spoke to him; but he is gone, gone away with the exiled prince--gone, he who should be here to-night when the black ruin is marching towards the dun! But she did not see the woman of the Sidhe, Domhnall. No! no! don't say she saw the woman of the Sidhe!" and Cathal bent his head down on his hands, and for a moment there was silence.
"Do you not hear, Domhnall--do you not hear?" and all the guards strained their ears.
In through the bare stone wall of the guardroom, a sound stole almost as soft as a sigh; then it increased, and a melody as lulling as falling waters in the heart of the deep woods fell on their ears, and, one by one, the listeners closed their eyes, and, leaning back on the rude stone benches, were falling into a pleasant slumber. Suddenly a brazen clangour roused them. Cathal's shield had fallen from the wall on to the stone floor. The bewitching music had ceased, and they were startled to find that the "candle upon the candlestick," which gave light to the room, had burned down half an inch. They must have been asleep for at least half-an-hour. Cathal started up, and, bidding his comrades stuff their ears if they heard the music again, he went out and mounted to the rampart. Within it all was silent, and silent all without. The midsummer moon, with her train of stars, poured down a flood of light almost as bright as that of day. The Barrow River shone like a silver mirror, and flowed so slowly that one might almost doubt its motion, and there was not air enough stirring to make the smallest dimple upon its surface. Cathal followed its course until it was lost in the forest that some distance below stretched away for miles on either side of the river. Between the forest and the dun, close to the latter, was the little town, or burgh, with its thatched houses, in which dwelt the artificers of the king. There too, all was silent, and as far as Cathal's eye could see there was nothing stirring in any direction. He made the circuit of the rampart, pausing only when he came to the grinan of the Lady Edain. It was on such another night, only then the moon was not so full, he had seen her at her open casement--on just such another night he had seen sitting on the Barrow banks, the woman of the Sidhe. The casement was closed, and there was no sign of the Lady Edain. But coming from the woods along the bank, what was that gleaming figure? Cathal did not need to ask himself. It was that of the woman of the Sidhe, and now she sits upon the bank, and begins her task of weaving, and he notes the sparkle of the points of the sword as she plies it in her work. And as he looks, he sees, or thinks he saw, the Barrow river change to a crimson hue; but the moon still shone from a cloudless sky, and he knows that he is the victim of his imagination, and that its waters are silver bright.