When the Leprecauns of Gort na Cloca Mora found they were unable
to regain their crock of gold by any means they laid an anonymous
information at the nearest Police Station showing that two dead bodies
would be found under the hearthstone in the hut of Coille Doraca, and
the inference to be drawn from their crafty missive was that
these bodies had been murdered by the Philosopher for reasons very
discreditable to him.

The Philosopher had been scarcely more than three hours on his journey
to Angus Og when four policemen approached the little house from as many
different directions, and without any trouble they effected an entrance.
The Thin Woman of Inis Magrath and the two children heard from afar
their badly muffled advance, and on discovering the character of their
visitors they concealed themselves among the thickly clustering trees.
Shortly after the men had entered the hut loud and sustained noises
began to issue therefrom, and in about twenty minutes the invaders
emerged again bearing the bodies of the Grey Woman of Dun Gortin and her
husband. They wrenched the door off its hinges, and, placing the bodies
on the door, proceeded at a rapid pace through the trees and disappeared
in a short time. When they had departed the Thin Woman and the children
returned to their home and over the yawning hearth the Thin Woman
pronounced a long and fervid malediction wherein policemen were
exhibited naked before the blushes of Eternity...

With your good-will let us now return to the Philosopher.

Following his interview with Angus Og the Philosopher received the
blessing of the god and returned on his homeward journey. When he left
the cave he had no knowledge where he was nor whether he should turn to
the right hand or to the left. This alone was his guiding idea, that as
he had come up the mountain on his first journey his home-going must, by
mere opposition, be down the mountain, and, accordingly, he set his
face downhill and trod lustily forward. He had stamped up the hill with
vigour, he strode down it in ecstasy. He tossed his voice on every wind
that went by. From the wells of forgetfulness he regained the shining
words and gay melodies which his childhood had delighted in, and these
he sang loudly and unceasingly as he marched. The sun had not yet
risen but, far away, a quiet brightness was creeping over the sky. The
daylight, however, was near the full, one slender veil only remaining of
the shadows, and a calm, u