one that was absent.

"Women," he said, "are shamefaced, they do not like to appear eager when
others are observing them."

But he knew that he would not have known if others were observing him,
and that he would not have cared about it if he had known. And he knew
that his Saeve would not have seen, and would not have cared for any
eyes than his.

He gripped his spear on that reflection, and ran as he had not run in
his life, so that it was a panting, dishevelled man that raced heavily
through the gates of the great Dun.

Within the Dun there was disorder. Servants were shouting to one
another, and women were running to and fro aimlessly, wringing their
hands and screaming; and, when they saw the Champion, those nearest to
him ran away, and there was a general effort on the part of every
person to get behind every other person. But Fionn caught the eye of his
butler, Gariv Crona'n, the Rough Buzzer, and held it.

"Come you here," he said.

And the Rough Buzzer came to him without a single buzz in his body.

"Where is the Flower of Allen?" his master demanded.

"I do not know, master," the terrified servant replied.

"You do not know!" said Fionn. "Tell what you do know."

And the man told him this story.

CHAPTER IV

"When you had been away for a day the guards were surprised. They were
looking from the heights of the Dun, and the Flower of Allen was with
them. She, for she had a quest's eye, called out that the master of the
Fianna was coming over the ridges to the Dun, and she ran from the keep
to meet you."

"It was not I," said Fionn.

"It bore your shape," replied Gariv Cronan. "It had your armour and your
face, and the dogs, Bran and Sceo'lan, were with it."

"They were with me," said Fionn.

"They seemed to be with it," said the servant humbly

"Tell us this tale," cried Fionn.

"We were distrustful," the servant continued. "We had never known Fionn
to return from a combat before it had been fought, and we knew you could
not have reached Ben Edar or encountered the Lochlannachs. So we urged
our lady to let us go out to meet you, but to remain herself in the
Dun."

"It was good urging," Fionn assented.

"She would not be advised," the servant wailed. "She cried to us, 'Let
me go to meet my love'."

"Alas!" said Fionn.

"She cried on us, 'Let me go to meet my husband, the father of the child
that is not born.'"

"Alas!" groaned deep-wounded Fionn. "She ran towards your appearance