and snatch my child away unless you can prevent
her.'

'Take comfort, fair Queen,' said Fion. 'We will do our best. If you will
leave this chamber to us we will watch over your child and see that it
comes to no harm. And, if it be possible to capture the witch, depend
upon it we shall do so. Too long she has worked her wickedness upon
these lands.'

The Queen thanked him and withdrew. Soon the sun was set, and, as the
child slept on and the shadows gathered, Fion and the three brothers set
their watch in the Many-coloured Bedchamber. Presently servants came in
and set wine before them--honey-mead and Danish beer, and metheglin and
sweet cakes. And, while they regaled themselves, the servants brought
chessmen and a board, and Grunne and Bechunach played chess while Fion
and Chluas watched by the bedside.

Hours passed while the two chess-players were absorbed in their game and
the other two kept watch and ward. Then, towards midnight, while Fion
was alert and wakeful, he saw Chluas sink his chin on his breast,
overcome by an unnatural sleep. Thrice Chluas strove to rouse himself,
but thrice he sank into a deeper sleep.

'Wake up, Chluas!' cried Grunne, as Bechunach was considering his next
move. 'Wake up! We have a pledge to keep.'

Chluas roused himself. 'Yes, yes,' he said; 'we have a pledge to keep.'
And then his chin sank gradually on his breast again, and he was once
more a victim to the same unnatural sleep.

'Let him alone,' said Fion. 'I will watch.'

And the two brothers went on with their game of chess.

Suddenly a chill wind swept through the bedchamber. The fire in the
grate flickered, and the candles burned low: the child in the cot
stirred and moaned.

'See that!' said Fion in a hoarse whisper, pointing to the fireplace.

They turned and looked. It was a long, lean, bony hand reaching down the
chimney and groping in the direction of the cot. The fingers were spread
out and crooked, all ready to clutch. Slowly the long arm lengthened and
drew near the cot. It was about to snatch the child, when Fion darted
forward and seized it in an iron grip.

There was a violent struggle, for Fion had the arm of the witch in his
powerful grasp. He held on so masterfully that the witch, in her frantic
efforts to draw it away, fell down the chimney, rolled across the fire,
struck Fion a terrific blow on the temple with her other hand, and then,
falling on top of his unconscious body, lay still, her shoulder to