s the meaning of this? Who stands in my way?"

Brian paused in no little astonishment, and stole a glance aside to see
old Turlough crossing himself fervently. It struck his mind that he had
chanced on some sorcery here, and, remembering the tales he had heard of
the Dark Master's work, he laughed a little and settled down. He was
minded to see what this thing might be; but he made his pistol ready in
case the magic told O'Donnell of his danger.

"It is some great man," came the Dark Master's voice again. "There is
something broidered on his-- By my soul, it is the Red Hand of Tyr-owen!
It is The O'Neill himself--the earl-- Is Yellow Brian of his blood,
then?"

At hearing this Brian crouched closer, in some fear and more wonder. Was
the Dark Master in reality seeing such figures in that water-bowl? Then
the man must be either mad or--or figures were there. Now O'Donnell's
voice rose stronger:

"Which of these twain stands now in my way? It is not Yellow Brian. Ah,
the earl is slipping away, and the woman is smiling. One of his loves,
belike, for he had many; she is fair, wondrous fair! Ah, what's this?"

Brian saw the dark figure crouch lower, as if in astonishment.

"Changing, changing! Is it this woman who stands in my way, then?
Toothless and grinning, crouched low over a stick, rags and tatters and
wisps of gray hair--"

The Dark Master paused in his jerky speech, stiffened as if in wild
amazement at that which he beheld, and a sudden cry broke from him,
sharp and awestruck:

"The Black Woman!"

Then Brian straightened up, feeling Turlough's hand touch his; but for a
space he stood silent while his mind cast out for what the Dark Master's
words meant.

In a flash it came to him. Through some black dealings O'Donnell had in
truth pictured The O'Neill in that bowl, and with him a woman he had
loved and who loved him; and this was no other than she whom Brian had
known as the Black Woman, now become an old hag indeed, with only the
memories of her fair youth and her love behind her. And this was why she
had recognized him and why she had evidently watched over him since that
first meeting, out of the love she had borne the earl, his grandsire, in
days now buried under many bitter years.

The two men looked into each other's eyes, and Brian saw that Turlough's
jaw had dropped loosely, and that fright had stricken the old man almost
out of his senses. With that Brian felt his own fear take wings. He
laughed