ver
tongue for the rest, old Wolf! Never fear, I will have the men. But mind
this, Turlough. I will make no other pact with her than this, against
the Dark Master. It may be that when I have driven him forth I may fly
after other game."

"Men have sought to drive the Dark Master forth," quoth Turlough, "and
their heads have rotted above his gate. Take heed lest there be an empty
spike there this night, Yellow Brian!"

But Brian only laughed shortly, and bade the old man affectionate
farewell, for he knew that Turlough loved him. And when Turlough had
ridden somberly away, Brian felt a strange sense of desertion, of loss,
that was no whit inspired by Turlough's gloomy last words. He shook it
off, however, at gripping hands again with Cathbarr. The axmen had
gathered most of their loot and buried what was of value, for Brian had
determined to return here from Bertragh and make use of the tower until
he had heard from Turlough's errand.

So now, at the head of thirty men, he rode across the narrow causeway
with Cathbarr of the Ax at his side for friend and guide. The giant did
not yet quite comprehend exactly what plan had flashed across the brain
of old Turlough, so as they rode Brian made the thing clearer to him.
When the simple and straightforward Cathbarr grasped the matter, he
smote his horse's neck with a bellow of laughter.

"Ho! So you bring me before the Dark Master ax in hand, reduced to
_your_ service instead of his, my men added to yours--oh, it is a jest,
brother, a jest! I think that O'Donnell will slay us both on the spot!"

"Not if your axmen are true," retorted Brian.

Cathbarr laughed again. "They fear me and they love me, brother," he
cried, gazing back at the file of horsemen. "Your own men fear you and
love you also. Therefore we are men alike."

Brian began to love the man for his utter simplicity, save where there
was killing in hand. Cathbarr seemed in reality to have the heart of a
child, impulsive and passionate to an extreme, and there was always a
certain rugged power in his bearing which bespoke him a true Flaherty of
the mountains. His men were like himself in this respect, and after they
had fraternized with Brian's men they began to feel the same unbounded
surety in Yellow Brian as Cathbarr expressed. Their axes were the usual
splay-bladed affairs that their grandfathers had used under Red Hugh at
the Yellow Ford, nor indeed in all his life had Brian ever seen another
ax like to tha