rplexed, and became filled with a very
rage of curiosity.

Among the names which her husband mentioned there was one which, because
of the frequency with which it appeared, and because of the tone of
anguish and love and longing in which it was uttered, she thought of
oftener than the others: this name was Duv Laca. Although she questioned
and cross-questioned Cairide', her story-teller, she could discover
nothing about a lady who had been known as the Black Duck. But one night
when Mongan seemed to speak with Duv Laca he mentioned her father as
Fiachna Duv mac Demain, and the story-teller said that king had been
dead for a vast number of years.

She asked her husband then, boldly, to tell her the story of Duv Laca,
and under the influence of their mutual love he promised to tell it to
her some time, but each time she reminded him of his promise he became
confused, and said that he would tell it some other time.

As time went on the poor Flame Lady grew more and more jealous of Duv
Laca, and more and more certain that, if only she could know what
had happened, she would get some ease to her tormented heart and some
assuagement of her perfectly natural curiosity. Therefore she lost no
opportunity of reminding Mongan of his promise, and on each occasion he
renewed the promise and put it back to another time.

CHAPTER III

In the year when Ciaran the son of the Carpenter died, the same year
when Tuathal Maelgariv was killed and the year when Diarmait the son of
Cerrbel became king of all Ireland, the year 538 of our era in short, it
happened that there was a great gathering of the men of Ireland at the
Hill of Uisneach in Royal Meath.

In addition to the Council which was being held, there were games and
tournaments and brilliant deployments of troops, and universal feastings
and enjoyments. The gathering lasted for a week, and on the last day
of the week Mongan was moving through the crowd with seven guards, his
story-teller Cairide', and his wife.

It had been a beautiful day, with brilliant sunshine and great sport,
but suddenly clouds began to gather in the sky to the west, and others
came rushing blackly from the east. When these clouds met the world went
dark for a space, and there fell from the sky a shower of hailstones, so
large that each man wondered at their size, and so swift and heavy that
the women and young people of the host screamed from the pain of the
blows they received.

Mongan's men made