to know
his thoughts as to a marriage between his daughter and Fionn, son of
Cumhaill.

'There is not the son of a king or of a great prince, a hero or a
champion in the whole of Erin,' answered Cormac, 'whom my daughter has
not refused to wed, and it is I whom all hold guilty for it, though it
is none of my doing. Therefore betake yourselves to my daughter, and
she will speak for herself. It is better that you be displeased with
her than with me.'

Thereupon Ossian and Dearing were led by the King to the dwelling of
the women, and they found Grania lying on a high couch. 'Here, O
Grania,' said the King, 'are two of the men of Fionn, the son of
Cumhaill, and they have come to ask you as wife for him. What is your
answer?'

'If he be a fitting son-in-law for you, why should he not be a fitting
husband for me?' said Grania. And at her words, her father ordered a
banquet to be made in the palace for Ossian and Dearing, and sent them
back to Fionn with a message summoning him to a tryst in a fortnight's
time.

When Ossian and Dearing were returned into Kildare, they found Fionn
and his men, the Fenians, on the hill of Allen, and they told them
their tale from the beginning to end. And the heart of Fionn grew
light as he heard it, and the fortnight of waiting stretched long
before him. But everything wears away at last, and so did those
fifteen days; and on the last, Fionn assembled seven battalions of his
Fenians from wherever they might be, and they set forth in troops
for the great plain where Cormac, King of Erin, had given them tryst.

[Illustration: GRANIA QUESTIONS THE DRUID]

The King had made ready a splendid feast, and welcomed the new-comers
gladly, and they ate and drank together. When the feast was over the
Druid Derry sang songs before Grania, and she, knowing he was a man of
wisdom, asked him why Fionn had come thither. 'If you know not that,'
said the Druid, 'it is no wonder that I know it not.'

'I wish to learn it from you,' answered Grania.

'Well then,' replied the Druid, 'it is to ask you for wife that he is
come.'

'I marvel,' said Grania, 'that it is not for Ossian that he asks me.
For my father himself is not as old as Fionn. But tell me, I pray you,
who is that softly spoken man with the curling black hair and ruddy
countenance, that sits on the left hand of Ossian, the son of Fionn?'

'That is Diarmid, son of Dowd, the best lover in the whole world.'

'It is a goodly company,' said Gr