ho were standing around gave vent to a murmur of approval,
and Brian saw the black looks passing between them and the wild
O'Donnells. The Highlanders had done murdering enough in Ireland since
Hamilton brought them over, but they were outspoken men, who had little
love for poisoners; and as Brian settled into the saddle with his huge
sword slung across his back, he caught more than one word of muttered
approval, which the Dark Master was powerless to check.

So Yellow Brian rode out from the castle he had lost, with Turlough Wolf
at his heels, and his heart was very sore. Once across the filled-in
moat and he saw fifty men at work by the shore, loading the dead into
boats to be buried in the bay, for the ground was hard-frozen.

Parties of Scots troopers and the horseless O'Donnells were scattered
over the farmlands and country ahead, but these offered no menace as the
two horsemen rode slowly through them. For all his bitterness, Brian
noted that the four pirate ships had been brought around into the bay
before the castle, into which the Scots had moved, while a great number
of the O'Donnells had landed and were hastily throwing up brush huts on
the height above the shore, evidently intending to camp there for the
present.

That was a dark leave-taking for Brian, since he had lost so many men
and his castle to boot. Yet more than once he looked back on Bertragh,
and when they came to the last rise of ground before the track wound
into the hills and woods, he drew rein and pointed back with a curt
laugh.

"This night I shall return, Turlough, and I think we shall catch the
Dark Master off his guard at last. If we throw part of our men on that
camp at dawn and the rest upon the castle, the tables may yet be
turned."

"A good rede, Brian O'Neill," nodded the old Wolf approvingly. At thus
hearing his name Brian flung Turlough one lightning-swift glance, then
pulled out his Spanish sword and threw it high, and caught it again with
a great shout.

"Tyr-owen! _Slainte!_"

With that he put spurs to his horse and rode on with better heart,
striving to forget his troubles in thinking of the stroke he would deal
that night. If those three pigeons had won clear to Gorumna, he would
find Nuala and her men waiting at Cathbarr's tower, and before the dawn
they would be back again and over the hills.

So they rode onward, and presently came to a stretch of forest, dark
against the snow. Suddenly Turlough drew up with a frig