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 LAB* 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
THE 
 
 BRIDES OE .ARDMORE, 
 
 ( 
 
 A STORY OF IRISH LIFE. 
 
 AGNES (SMITH,) U ~> '• S 
 
 Author of " Eflie Maxwell" " QlenmavU," etc. 
 
 bonbon : 
 
 ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATEENOSTEE EOW. 
 
 1880. 
 
 {All righti reserved.] 
 
PBEFACE. 
 
 The notes which form the basis of this story were found 
 amongst the records of the nunnery at Kilcheechan, on the 
 banks of the Suir, opposite the city of Waterford. They are 
 in the handwriting of Grainne" Ni-Carthy; only a few 
 additions being from the pen of another. Considering the 
 opportunities enjoyed by that fair matron for studying the 
 characters and motives of her young companions, as well 
 as indirectly through them, of their husbands, the Editress 
 thinks herself fortunate in having become possessed of the 
 record of a state of things now so completely passed away. 
 She trusts that it will not be less .welcome to the reader 
 because of the historical and local descriptions with which 
 she has sought to illustrate its meaning. 
 
 It may be as well to say, however, that by the word 
 "bishop" is here meant, not the magnificent dignitary. who 
 now bears that title, but a member of the class to which it 
 was applied by the Irish of the first eleven centuries. St. 
 Patrick is stated to have ordained seven hundred of them. 
 (See Appendix p. 879.) 
 
THE BEIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 It was summer-time at Ardmore. The sunbeams rested 
 lovingly on the wide tract of woods surrounding the promon* 
 tory, and on the still wider expanse of ocean which lay sleep- 
 ing at its base. They had woven a tissue of rich colours about 
 the picturesque dwellings which nestled close to the church 
 and lofty Bound Tower, and lent their deepest tints to the 
 clustering foliage which blended these somewhat incongruous 
 buildings into one harmonious whole. 
 
 The pine woods had been cleared away from Ardmore Hill. 
 On its northern slope rose that slender, massive, solitary 
 beacon, which has withstood the storms of centuries, and still 
 hides in the silent circle of its bosom the mystery of its 
 origin. 
 
 Some twenty-five yards distant from it stood the double 
 church, whose massive walls yet testify to the strength of early 
 Irish piety. Against its southern side- rested some solid 
 wooden buildings, whilst others of similar construction were 
 grouped around the little stone cell of Declan, to the south- 
 east of the church, and likewise against the inner sidte of the 
 broad, grassy rampart which enclosed, at some distance-, 
 church, cell, tower, and plateola, or park. 
 
 These dwellings were, as we have said, of wood. They 
 were well fitted and finished, most of them having double 
 
 2 
 
2 THE BEIDES OF ARDMOKE. 
 
 ■walls ; whilst over their thatched roofs a variety of creeping 
 plants had been trained. Many were brilliant with yellow 
 limtKwash, and stood under the shadow of lofty oaks, whose 
 large trunks screened them partly from view. Others, again, 
 retained their natural colour, and could hardly be discerned 
 amidst the bloom of honeysuckle and the scarlet splendour 
 of the mountain ash. A variety of flowers, planted amongst 
 beds of common vegetables, gave sweet sustenance to the in- 
 habitants of numerous bee-hives, who, not content with their 
 legitimate dwellings, had burrowed likewise amongst the 
 roots of the trees. 
 
 Ardmore was still, seven centuries ago, an ecclesiastical 
 colony. The handsome wooden buildings which nestled 
 against its church were the refectory, kitchen, pharmacy, 
 guest-hall, and manuscript-room of a Culdee settlement, or 
 family. The huts around Declan's sanctuary were the cells 
 of unmarried brethren, bishops, or students ; whilst those 
 under the shadow of the rath were the private property of 
 those members who preferred to live in holy wedlock.* Five 
 smaller stone churches, with curiqus_conical roofs, served as 
 places of retirement and preparation for those of the bishops 
 whose turn it would next be to officiate in public worship. 
 
 The vallum, or rath, was a solid embankment of earth some 
 seven feet in height. It was protected on the outer side by 
 a ditch, and strengthened by a casing of rough stone covered 
 over with mossy turf. On its summit flourished a quick 
 hedge of mingled blackthorn, crab-apple, and elder. 
 
 One single hut broke this line of verdure : this was the 
 Grianan, or guest-chamber, directly above the abbot's house ; 
 a round cottage whose solitary window caught the first rays 
 of the morning sun, and commanded a view second only to 
 that from the summit of the Eound Tower. 
 
 The rath' had only one legitimate entrance, spanned by a 
 massively built low arch, opposite the western end of the 
 * See Appendix. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOKE. 
 
 3 
 
 church. But several gaps in the hedge, with slender ladders 
 reaching downwards from them, and short planks over the 
 ditch, gave tokens that other paths of exit had been well 
 trodden by nimble feet. 
 
 At a short distance outside of this rampart were a few 
 humble wooden houses, flanked by sheds formed of double 
 walls of wattles fdled in with clay. Here were all the cheer- 
 ful sights of a farmyard — cows swinging their long tails, 
 plough horses tended by stalwart youths, and fowls scraping 
 about after golden grains. 
 
 The afternoon was growing apace. The sun shone with 
 less fierceness, as if half exhausted with his long effort ; the 
 hum of voices began to rise as the sweet tones of a silver bell 
 sounded from the top of the tower. Then the pharmacy door 
 swung on its hinges, and a white-robed girl stepped on to the 
 greensward, carrying in her delicate hands an exquisitely 
 leaved water lily. 
 
 The girl was short of stature, but possessed one of those 
 finely-moulded forms which still delight us in the statues of 
 ancient Greece. Her flowing linen robe reached scarcely to 
 her ankles, and was confined by an " inar," or jacket, of soft 
 green wool, and a zone of yellow leather, fastened by two large 
 hooks of silver. Her graceful head was surmounted by ring- 
 lets of very dark auburn hair, and her brown eyes flashed from 
 beneath long eyelashes. There was an air of slightness and 
 yet of rounded womanliness about her whole person, made the 
 more attractive by the piquant vivacity of her face. The 
 hand which held the tender flower stem was delicate, yet not 
 small : it had taper fingers, coloured with the hues of lilies and 
 roses, yet the lines across the wrist announced it to be the 
 active tool of an energetic brain ; and the eyes, which drank 
 so deep a draught of pleasure from the creamy cup of the 
 water blossom, were yet prompt to mark every circumstance 
 which could affect their owner's life duties. It was but a 
 moment that she paused in the bright sunshine ; then, step- 
 
4 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 ping briskly forward, she crossed the green and entered one 
 of the leaf-embowered cottages within the shadow of the 
 western rampart wall. 
 
 Sorcha, for such was the girl's name, stood at once in a 
 circular wood-panelled apartment, in the centre of which a 
 round fireplace of hewn stone contained a few smouldering 
 embers. The room was hardly eight feet high; yet, though 
 the smoke issued from a hole in its roof through an iron 
 funnel, -its furniture presented an appearance of taste in har- 
 mony with the carvings about its entrance. Two settees, or 
 beds, with coverlets of red deerskin, stood with their lower 
 ends towards the fire, and on one of these was seated a figure 
 sufficiently striking to engross all attention to itself. 
 
 Amada, Sorcha's grandmother, was a sunny old lady. 
 Although stoutly built, and habited in a garment of dark 
 wool, there was about her that air of comfort which we are 
 wont to associate with tidy hearths and hospitable receptions. 
 No one could gaze on her cheerful face, colourless, yet not 
 pale, framed in its kerchief of snowy linen, and crowned by a 
 wealth of blonde hair, without feeling that it was an embodi- 
 ment of domestic peace and felicity. Yet for many years 
 Amada had enjoyed no great share of worldly prosperity. 
 
 She was the only daughter of a wealthy Bonaire, or gentle- 
 man farmer, as he would be called in these days. But in the 
 twelfth century men had not progressed far in the art of 
 doing business by deputy, or of making those ingenious 
 arrangements by which the owners of wealth are absolved 
 from the toil of preserving it. Angus O'Carrol possessed 
 more than three hundred cattle, with the right of pasturing it 
 on as many acres of fine land. He had by seven years' pay- 
 ment of tribute acquired a prospective right of ownership in 
 some splendid fields on the death of his chief. Yet he sowed 
 and reaped his own harvests, whilst his wife and daughter 
 distinguished themselves by the excellence of their dairy pro- 
 duce. But Eugenia and Amada did not accomplish this entirely 
 
THE BBIDES OP AEDMORE. 5 
 
 with their own hands. Attached to the soil were several 
 families of BothacJis, or serfs, who furnished a constant supply 
 of domestic and farm servants. It was considered meritorious 
 on the part of wealthy matrons in that age to train members 
 of the half-heathen population around them to habits of 
 diligence and order. And if the works so strongly insisted on 
 by the Apostle James had any efficacy in the way of entitling 
 their possessor to a place in the Church, then assuredly the 
 wife and daughter of Angus should have been considered as 
 two of its palatial corner-stones. But apostolic rules are 
 apt to be wondrously overlooked. Eugenia and Amada be- 
 longed to the minor gentry of the country. They could boast 
 no near connection by blood With any of its hereditary 
 chiefs, and still less with that clerical caste which was then 
 attaching to itself as much homage as had formerly been 
 bestowed only on the descendants of Erin's princes. 
 
 They deserved higher honour, nevertheless, than any earthly 
 relationship could have given them. They were surely 
 evangelists in the best sense of the word, maintaining in their 
 own household a high standard of morality and good conduct, 
 whilst every year reclaiming from downright barbarism some 
 member of the population around them. Many clerical 
 families in the neighbourhood had been supplied with good 
 servants through Eugenia's tuition, but such advantages were 
 taken by them as a matter of course ; it never once occurring 
 to the lady-members to place her labours on an equality of 
 importance with their own. The good woman's character was 
 too much tempered by humility for her to perceive this. But 
 her daughter Amada cherished a more far-reaching ambition. 
 
 She was early married to Bossa O'Ahern, a Bo-aire of the 
 same class as her father. She brought with her a small 
 dowry of cattle, the bulk of the property going, as was 
 customary in that age, to a brother. Her new home was 
 situated in a distant part of the country. She thus on 
 entering it found herself completely separated from the 
 
b THE BRIDES OF AEDMORBf. 
 
 associations of her early life. She possessed her mother's 
 energy of character and her mother's conception of the obli- 
 gation to make her home a pattern one. She had also 
 sufficient shrewdness to discern the tendencies of thought and 
 feeling then current in society, and one consuming wish took 
 possession of her breast — the desire to see her children 
 ennobled by alliances with the servants of the Most High. 
 For the Celtic Church had come to occupy a position unique 
 in the annals of Christendom. It was still independent of 
 foreign control,* whilst its married priesthood enabled it to 
 retain a sympathetic hold on the affections of the people. 
 The social status of a family could not fail to be raised by 
 connection with the Church, and as noble birth had been for 
 centuriesthe best of qualifications for entrance into its ministry, 
 the reigning families, both in Church and State, had gradually 
 become welded into a most despotic oligarchy. 
 
 It would be doing Amada an injustice to say that the 
 idea of thus raising herself ever formed itself quite distinctly 
 in her mind. Her daughters were well educated, because 
 she had a talent for stimulating their minds. She loved the 
 Church on account of its being the depository of the truth. 
 She waited on the lips of its servants as the Queen of Sheba 
 did on Solomon's. Her husband was of an affectionately 
 simple disposition ; and what more worthy use could they 
 imagine for their worldly goods than to place them at the dis- 
 posal of those messengers of light whose feet were so beautiful 
 on the mountains of their native land ? After a hard day's 
 work in fretting over the stupidity of some untaught being 
 whom she was transforming into something human, after 
 superintending the operations of dairy and kitchen, Amada 
 was wont to deck herself in becoming array, and play the 
 part of hostess to any tonsured guest whose necessities or 
 love of good cheer induced him to seek her hospitable roof. 
 
 Such guests soon came in swarms, with theiv families. 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BEIDES OF ABDMOBE. 7 
 
 Amada's suppers became celebrated, not only for their culi- 
 nary excellence, but for the flow of wit with which the 
 viands were seasoned. We may doubt if the' great Co-arb of 
 Patrick himself had a more sprightly circle around his 
 hearth. Contact with highly-cultivated minds was an edu- 
 cation by which Amada was not slow to profit. Her rich 
 intellect was as loamy land which has lain far down in a 
 valley, and which some gentle u-pheavai of the earth's 
 surface raises at length to the kind influence of continuous 
 sunlight. But her mental progress laid bare to her view the 
 deficiencies of her early training. Though an authority in 
 domestic economy, and immeasurably superior to tbe herd 
 of peasant girls with whom she came into hourly contact, 
 she had not received that refined artistic culture whieh was 
 the exclusive privilege of ladies born into the ecclesiastical 
 world. She could read fluently the two copies of the Sacred 
 Scriptures which were heirlooms in her family ; but she lacked 
 the ready gift of transferring these to fresh parchment. She 
 could not cheer with song the winter evenings, and the 
 embroidery stitch of the Normans was an accomplishment 
 far above her comprehension. 
 
 The consciousness of these things made her anxious that 
 her daughters, should not only become skilled in household 
 management, but should be able to take no inferior place 
 beside the graceful maidens whom they could not rival in 
 birth, but might possibly surpass in those talents by which 
 birth is so fittingly adorned. Nor did Moriath and Grainne 
 fall short of their mother's expectations. 
 
 They were separated in age by only eighteen months. 
 Yet with every apparent likeness in outward conditions, the 
 real education of the two had been essentially different. For 
 Amada had one real weakness of which she was totally un- 
 conscious. Her native shrewdness did not enable her to see 
 that children are more likely to be peaceable and affectionate 
 if treated with rigid impartiality. There was something in 
 
8 
 
 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 Grainne which early touched a hidden spring in the mother's 
 heart, and made her most unreasonably accord an undue 
 measure of love and honour to the younger of her children. 
 Perhaps it was some subtle trait in the infant features which 
 recalled a memory from the dim recesses of the past ; per- 
 haps it was the fact that Grainne really was a very consequen- 
 tial little person, arrogating to herself the first place on all 
 occasions, and displaying a self reliance and self-respect 
 which partly satisfied the mother's wish for male offspring. 
 The place which Grainne' assumed she kept. Her very faults 
 became virtues when viewed through the medium of maternal 
 love, whilst the tender-hearted and bashful little Moriath 
 might display excellence unnoticed. Their father observed 
 the mischief only to aggravate it. When he tried to balance 
 matters by praising Moriath, this had only the effect of 
 making the mother more confident in her own opinion, and 
 more determined to exalt Grainne in every possible manner. 
 Not that her elder girl was neglected. As far as physical 
 well-being was concerned, no children could have been 
 better tended ; but the unequal treatment told on both with 
 an effect which could hardly have been expected. Her father 
 being seldom in the house, except when guests were present, 
 or on winter evenings, Moriath derived little advantage from 
 his partisanship, and she came at length to acquiesce in 
 that view of things which placed her sister on a lofty and 
 unapproachable pedestal. Yet, as Moriath grew older, she 
 was the more demonstratively affectionate of the two; the 
 more solicitous about her mother's comfort^ the more eager 
 to meet her parents' wishes in the fulfilment of every domes- 
 tic or literary task. She felt no sense of injustice ; she was 
 proud of her sister's superiority ; and took it as a matter of 
 course that the stately Grainn£ should attract all the admi- 
 ration of strangers. Grainne was unmistakably clever. She 
 had, her mother thought, been born with a faculty for always 
 thinking and doing the right thing, Her reputation for 
 
THE BEIDES OF AEDMOEE. \) 
 
 possessing such a faculty was perhaps heightened by the 
 self-confidence with which she enunciated her opinions, 
 whereas Moriath's habit of quoting the views of others for 
 the purpose of strengthening her own was an unfailing 
 subject of amusement in the family. Amada's partiality was 
 much to be regretted. It weakened the natural bond 
 of sympathy between the sisters, and prepared trials for 
 Grainne in later life which she might otherwise have been 
 spared. Yet it did not seriously detract from the girl's 
 merits. In a less worthy family it might have done so, but 
 the two sisters enjoyed such exceptional advantages both of 
 inheritance and of example that it would have been difficult 
 for either of them to stoop to anything savouring of aught 
 but high principle. They had an unfeigned respect for both 
 their parents, and it was not till a wider knowledge dawned 
 on Moriath with advancing years that she came to perceive 
 the one flaw in her mother's character. 
 
 Theirs was indeed a happy home. All that could ennoble 
 their young lives was present in full measure. The work of 
 superintending servants, of instructing the ignorant of their 
 own sex, and of economising in a way which had no savour 
 of niggardliness, was but the necessary foundation on which 
 their parents reared a structure of unbounded generosity. 
 Amada was of a lively temperament ; her husband no less so ; 
 innocent mirth and frolic were encouraged in so far as they 
 did not trespass on the seriousness of work, or of religious 
 duties. A cynical critic might have whispered that kindness 
 to strangers was being carried too far ; that the goods so 
 lavishly bestowed on distinguished pastors might have been 
 laid up for the girls' marriage portions. But Moriath and 
 Grainne were too ignorant to cavil at this. They profited 
 by the opportunities within their reach, whilst their mother 
 received a deferential respect from men who were her beau- 
 ideals of goodness which could not fail to exalt her in her own 
 estimation. A change was, however, rapidly approaching.. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 Ireland had, from the earliest times, been cursed with a 
 superfluity of princes. Each of her five kingdoms contained 
 a couple of ruling clans, whose members claimed a right 
 of supplying the throne in alternation. Those who were out 
 of office spent their time in concocting the most dangerous 
 plots. 
 
 Nor was the ambition of an Irish king limited to the 
 regions of his own inheritance. The choice of his four peers 
 might make him Ard-righ, or sovereign of the whole island. 
 But in that case he would have to compel obedience by his 
 own good sword. Only when the strongest sat on the throne 
 could Erin hope to enjoy peace. 
 
 Nor could any worse plan of succession have well been 
 devised than the law of tanistry. No office or property was 
 strictly hereditary ; it fell, on the death of the occupier, to 
 the oldest and strongest male relative ; to the one, in short, 
 who was considered most capable of using it. And as- no 
 personal defect could be tolerated in a ruler, great chieftains 
 sought to evade the decrees of the Senchus Mor by blinding 
 their rebellious kinsmen. Thus was the whole country torn 
 by contending factions. 
 
 Munster had, since the reign of Brian Borumha, enjoyed 
 comparative prosperity. But it was, in a.d. 1151, over- 
 whelmed by one of those catastrophes from which nations 
 are slow to recover. 
 
 For nine years its throne had been occupied by the rest- 
 
THE BKTDBS OP AEDMOSE. 11 
 
 less Turlough O'Brien, a monarch who possessed all the 
 ambition without the genius or the patriotism of his great 
 ancestor. He was much given to the royal sport of cattle- 
 lifting, a pastime not unknown to the contemporaries of 
 Achilles, and which was at least as good as that of trying to 
 move his neighbour's landmarks indulged in by a Duke of 
 Aquitaine or of Austria. 
 
 Turlough had made raids into Leinster, with very varying 
 success. Emboldened at length by a victory, he led a band 
 of marauders into Connaught, and knocked down the fort of 
 Galway. Turlough O'Connor, the monarch of that district, 
 was king of all Ireland,, with opposition. He was " a flood 
 of glory and splendour, the Augustus of the West of Europe ; " 
 but yet, though "full of charity and mercy, hospitality and 
 chivalry," he was by no means the man to leave an insult 
 unavenged. Joining with the notorious Leinster king, 
 Dermod Mac Murrough, he invaded Munster, plundering 
 right and left, till he reached the field of Moin Mor, near 
 Cork. 
 
 Then ensued a slaughter which can only be compared to 
 that of Flodden. Turlough O'Brien was vanquished, and 
 seven thousand of his men, the flower of Dalecassian valour, 
 lay dead upon the field.* Amongst them was the tanist, or 
 royal heir of Munster (a nephew of Turlough), with many of 
 the Boydama, or king-material, and the chieftains of almost 
 every clan. But on few did the blow fall more heavily than 
 on the O'Aherns. 
 
 The Math, to whom Eossa owned allegiance, was amongst 
 the slain. Amada's peaceful home was soon engulfed beneath 
 the waves of lawlessness and rapine which broke over the 
 land. Its walls were not actually pulled down, but the fields 
 which Bossa had cultivated were given to another; and the 
 cattle, his only riches, were swept away to swell the enormous 
 spoil with which the two kings returned to their own 
 provinces. 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
12 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOKE. 
 
 Amada had, with her daughters, sought refuge in the 
 religious house connected with her husband's clan. But its 
 precincts soon became too strait for the crowds who flocked 
 thither ; and though its actual sanctuary remained inviolate, 
 all its outlying property was engulfed in the general ruin. 
 "When the danger had passed, therefore, the three women 
 were glad to leave it for the shelter of their dismantled home. 
 They found themselves face to face with poverty. 
 
 Eossa was, however, of a sanguine temperament. He had 
 an unfailing trust in Providence. Had he not been a faithful 
 steward whilst his riches lasted? and though he could no 
 longer give the prophets food and clothing, would they not 
 now remember the unnumbered kindnesses he had shown 
 them ? He had made to himself friends of the mammon of 
 unrighteousness, and had secured protectors for his children 
 in the event of further misfortune befalling them. At the 
 worst, they might end their days in one of those women's 
 monasteries now become so common throughout Ireland. 
 Some of his former guests would surely have influence suffi- 
 cient to procure for Moriath and Grainne a favourable recep- 
 tion at Cluain-Credhail, or at Killcbree. 
 
 Eossa found, however, that he had reckoned too rashly. 
 His clerical friends, who had professed such a warm attach- 
 ment to him, who had flattered him for virtues he was hardly 
 conscious of possessing, seemed now to have a strange dis- 
 like to visiting him without express invitation. And Amada's 
 pride would have been keenly wounded had she been obliged 
 to receive any one without placing suitable cheer before 
 them. The few whose friendship was as effusive as of yore 
 were all of the poorer sort — men without influence, bishops 
 certainly, but unconnected with any of those families whose 
 members alone were supposed eligible for the office of 
 presbyter-abbot. Amongst those few was a bishop named 
 Maidoc O'Bric. 
 
 Maidqc was a middle-aged man, who had long enjoyed the 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 13 
 
 pastoral care of a neighbouring village. Its people were 
 devotedly attached to him, yet neither his name nor his voice 
 were ever heard more than a few miles beyond it. The poor 
 became accustomed to him as they did to any common gift 
 of Providence. Yet he had acquired a degree of learning 
 which might have made him a conspicuous figure in any of 
 the great centres of intelligence. His sermons were ex- 
 tremely impressive. He possessed a ripeness of thought 
 which melted into mild words, and made hearers hang on his 
 lips with the confidence of those who need fear no disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 There was something sterling about Maidoc. You could 
 see that at a glance, although you might never have listened 
 to the equable flow of his eloquence in the pulpit. He was 
 stout, with a massive figure. His dark eyes were small and 
 unimpressive, and he was of so taciturn a disposition that 
 you might possibly have passed him over as a man of only 
 ordinary ability. But a careful scrutiny would have dis- 
 pelled the illusion. The small eyes were intensely observant ; 
 the full lips were quivering with expression, as if responsive 
 to every movement of their owner's soul. 
 
 Would that he had possessed more energy ! So thought 
 Amada when, in the day of her prosperity, she indulged in a 
 secret laugh at him. " There is no one I like better to hear 
 in the pulpit," she would say. " Yet his wife and he seem 
 as if they shared a single voice between them. He uses it in 
 public, she in private, and certainly with discretion." 
 
 "Yes," Grainne would answer; "it is provoking to see 
 him listen so often to disputations which he could settle 
 with a single word." 
 
 " Maidoc is not in his right place," her mother would 
 respond ; "preaching to poor people, when he might be in a 
 lector's chair. He will have to wait all his life if he expects 
 others to speak for him. He has been kept in the background 
 only because the great men know him not. I tried to make 
 
14 THE BKIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 him talk when some of them were here. He will never have 
 such an opportunity again. But it was of no use. The man 
 sat and listened as if he had been one of the stone heads on 
 King Cormae's new church at Caisel." 
 
 But Amada's wit spared Maidoc in the time of her adversity. 
 Then he came, noiseless as the fall of a dew-drop, but with a 
 movement of lip and hand that spoke more eloquently than 
 words could have done. Boused from the habitual torpor 
 which only seemed to master him when he was in society, he 
 was all eagerness, all attention, and sat imbibing the story of 
 the family's hardships as if it were an aliment necessary to- 
 the growth of a stronger affection for them. 
 
 "I cannot pretend to sit at your board," he said, " any. 
 more than I can ask you to do so at mine. I am poor as you 
 are. If I can make you any return for the great kindness 
 you have shown me, let it be in the way of instruction. Your 
 daughters may come and read with me on any evening they 
 like to fix.'' 
 
 From that moment Bishop Maidoc held the most honoured 
 place in Bossa's household. It was felt that he had redeemed 
 the character of his brethren. But for him Amada's faith 
 would have been sorely shaken in the excellence of a divinely 
 ordained institution. Her late experiences had not, however, 
 altogether opened her eyes to the earthy nature of the vessels 
 in which world- blessing treasures were deposited. She had 
 an ardent Celtic temperament, much given to hero-worship. 
 Her hero was Blathmac O'Mannahan, and though now little 
 gratified by sight of him, it was wonderful how ingenious she 
 was in excuses for his lack of friendliness. 
 
 " He has the care of all the churches on his shoulders," 
 she said. " I must say I wonder at the O'Mullaneys and 
 others. But Blathmac 1 The very touch of his garment is 
 an honour, without his giving up his time to us. He belongs 
 to the Church ; not to one nor to another." 
 
 Grainne could not help thinking that Blathmac had once 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 15 
 
 looked as if lie belonged to them, and had time enough to 
 spare when there were mead and milk flowing. She was wise 
 enough, however, not to contradict her mother. 
 
 Maidoc was not quite justified in calling himself poor. If 
 a man's wealth were to be measured by his chains of the 
 metal rings which represented the currency of that day, the 
 good bishop assuredly could lay no claim to any amount of it. 
 But he was rich in what money seldom gives. His wants 
 never exceeded, what could be furnished by his modest pit- 
 tance. The only luxury he indulged in was books, and, as he 
 had free access to the library at Lismore, there was little 
 necessity for his turning spendthrift to gratify his tastes. 
 The confraternity of Ardmore, to which he was attached, 
 would see justice done to him in the matter of a retreat for 
 his old age, whilst both his office and character ensured him 
 a full meed of respect and honour. He had, moreover, made 
 the best of all acquisitions in a helpmeet who was more than 
 the exact complement of himself. She was one of those 
 women whom to look at is to love. Her features were not 
 strictly faultless, but they were the translucent covering of a 
 soul whose brightness seemed to glorify their every outline, 
 the was devotedly attached to her husband, and all the more 
 so that Providence had not blessed their union with children. 
 Her wifely and maternal instincts were alike gratified by her 
 incessant care for his welfare ; and whilst he leant on her in 
 all practical matters, she reverenced him for the learning 
 which she was sufficiently well instructed to appreciate. 
 Their souls had become so much blended into one that it was 
 difficult to imagine how they had ever lived apart. 
 
 Yet another bishop remained true to Eossa. He was, how- 
 ever, cast in a very different mould. The first look of him would 
 have repelled you. His harsh features, dark complexion, 
 and stern, brown eye told of a spirit as unbending as it was 
 rigidly virtuous. Yet he knew how to make himself agree- 
 able. You would feel flattered, my fair reader, were the 
 
16 
 
 THE BEIDBS OF ABDMOEE. 
 
 fierce lion of the desert to crouch submissive at your feet ; so 
 you need not wonder that Amada and her daughters were 
 gratified to see the harshest critic of their acquaintance 
 unbending grimly to the enjoyment of jokes at their table. 
 
 Olrud MacCarthy's motives for coming there were twofold. 
 His movements were, I grieve to state, governed in the first 
 place by self-interest. He was connected with the religious 
 foundation of Inisfallen, and at Eossa's house some of the 
 more distinguished members of that confraternity were to be 
 found ; not engaged in the fulfilment of duty, but in that state 
 of leisurely enjoyment so favourable to the growth of mutual 
 goodwill. It was possible that some of those whose voices 
 were all-powerful in council, might get a better insight into 
 Olrud's wofth and capabilities than they were likely to do in 
 the wilds of Kerry. Of the worth there could be no question, 
 and as for the capabilities, they were, in their owner's 
 opinion, of no common order. He belonged to an obscure 
 family. It was not without a hard struggle that he had 
 obtained entrance into the clerical profession. His father 
 had been Erenach, or hereditary bailiff, over the termon-lands 
 of Inisfallen, and it was therefore considered that the son 
 had stepped out of his sphere by becoming a student of 
 theology. He was also, on his mother's side, descended from 
 a so-called water-hound, or Dane who had acquired the rights 
 of an Irishman by marriage. Olrud felt himself looked upon 
 as an outsider by men of less ability who could count their 
 ministerial ancestors. He had a notion that he might pos- 
 sibly triumph over these disadvantages by attracting some 
 great man's notice. Nor did any constitutional timidity stand 
 in the way of his doing this. No matter who might be 
 present, Olrud's voice was always the first in prayer or 
 exhortation. To have a sense of one's own superiority is a 
 great step towards impressing it on others, and one result of 
 Olrud's efforts was that a vivid conception formed itself in 
 his mind of the intensity of admiration with which every one 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOKE., 17 
 
 regarded him. Another was that, whilst some looked up tb 
 his stalwart figure with venerating awe, many of his brethren 
 entertained towards him a dislike which they would have 
 found it difficult to account for. 
 
 Other motives soon allied themselves, to this one in prompt- 
 ing Olrud's visits. He derived real enjoyment from the 
 society he met with, and felt a lively sense of gratitude for 
 opportunities already vouchsafed to him. For Olrud was 
 much given to self-examination, being one of those regular, 
 well-conducted men who must shape their thoughts into 
 definite words before putting them into action. He could no 
 more act from impulse than he could be guilty of calling 
 himself a fool. He had a high standard of rectitude, and was 
 unmeasured in his condemnation of those who failed to con- 
 form to it in any one particular. Conscious of no frailty 
 himself, he could make little allowance for it in others. 
 
 His second motive took root and developed itself at a much 
 later period. A superficial observer would have found it no 
 easy task to discover whether or not Olrud possessed a heart ; 
 yet a closer examination might have convinced him that such 
 an organ actually existed. It was not capable of great ex- 
 pansion, but there it was, making up for what it lacked in the 
 way of bulk by exceeding tenacity of fibre. And it was alto- 
 gether an ill-used member. It was not allowed to utter a 
 word until its intellectual colleague had decided on several 
 interesting points, viz., that matrimony was an honourable 
 estate ; that it was distinctly enjoined on bishops in the 
 Epistle to Timothy; that thirty-seven was an age when a 
 man ought to be competent to make a wise selection ; that a 
 Christian young woman would be a help rather than a hind- 
 rance to the growth of spiritual life; and that he, Olrud, 
 would be neglecting his plain duty were he not to admit such 
 an one to the valuable example and instruction to be derived 
 from his society. 
 
 Another set of points required more anxious deliberation ; 
 
 3 
 
18 
 
 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE, 
 
 but after a careful scrutiny they were at length determined, 
 and it was resolved by all his faculties in solemn council, 
 that Grainne" Ni-Ahern was likely to fulfil all the requisite 
 conditions. Any want of gravity on her part would doubt- 
 less disappear when she had become sufficiently impressed 
 with his solemn teachings ; and though there was an element 
 of liveliness about her and her mother, which was perhaps of 
 less consequence in a layman's family, he had never noticed 
 in either of them the least approach to a love of slander. As 
 for sobriety, faithfulness, and ability to rule over her depen- 
 dents, no one could look Grainn£ fairly in the face and 
 harbour a suspicion that she "would be found wanting in 
 them. She was comely too, she had a goodly presence, and 
 was indeed of an appearance which must command attention. 
 She had been well brought up, and had doubtless inherited 
 from her parents that esteem for good men which is a great 
 help towards being good ourselves. 
 
 It would be doing Olrud more than justice to say that he 
 did not count on Grainne's portion. But before we can 
 determine whether he was really in love with her, we must 
 reflect that there were few others who would have suited 
 him. The daughters of his brethren were not without proper 
 ambition, and he had too great a horror of being refused on 
 account of his want of birth to apply where he had no sure 
 hope of success. Amongst the lay families he knew there 
 were none so well educated or so worthy of being raised to the 
 clerical caste as the children of his friend Kossa. Olrud was 
 unfeignedly thankful that it had pleased Providence to bestow 
 on the object of his choice the worthless gift of personal 
 comeliness. 
 
 He was keenly disappointed when Eossa's circumstances 
 changed. But it did not turn him from his purpose. His 
 resolutions, once formed, were like well-feathered arrows 
 that must fly straight at the mark to which they are pointed ; 
 whether that mark be the quivering side of a victim, or the 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 19 
 
 misleading glimmer of a rock amongst the copsewood. Bo in 
 the day of Rossa's deepest distress he came forward with his 
 proposal. 
 
 Amada did not receive it favourably. Olrud had never 
 been a favourite of hers. She had more than once been pro- 
 voked by his forwardness in the way of taking up the word 
 when cleverer men were present. She had often resented his 
 dictatorial manners and unreasoning condemnation of others. 
 She would have said " no," with poverty staring her daughter 
 in the face. Eossa, however, insisted that Grainne 1 should 
 have the opportunity of deciding for herself. 
 
 To the surprise of her parents, Cjrainne hesitated. She 
 claimed a night to think over it, and in the morning re- 
 quested them to accept for her the offered position. 
 
 "I know that he is peculiar," she said. "He likes his 
 own way, and is much too severe in his judgments. But 
 recollect that he has had no female companions. His mother 
 died when he was a baby. It says a great deal for him that 
 he asks for me now. He is a man of thorough integrity, and 
 will perhaps bear to be told that he sometimes encroaches 
 on other people's right to converse. I have no wish to have 
 my own way. In fact, I should rather like to be ruled. It 
 would be a variety," she continued, with an affectionate 
 glance at her mother. 
 
 " Thou knowest not of what thou speakest," exclaimed 
 Amada. 
 
 "I do, mother," replied the self-willed girl. "I have 
 thought well over it. I should like a firm hand over me." 
 
 Eossa shrugged his shoulders. He glanced meaningly at 
 his wife. It probably occurred to both that Grainne was not 
 so far wrong in preferring wedded life, of whatever sort, to the 
 monotony of the cloister which threatened soon to be their 
 pnly refuge. 
 
 Eossa had been obliged to form a definite plan, There 
 were two ways open before him. He might rent other land, 
 
20 
 
 TEE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 and stock it ; but he would have to do so on borrowed money, 
 and the only dealer in that commodity he could think of was 
 an Israelite in Waterford, upon whose greed there existed no 
 check except an outbreak of anger on the part of the popu- 
 lace which could only be counted on once in ten years, and 
 was even then likely to be vicariously applied. It seemed far 
 better that he should give up farming, and seek a post in the 
 permanent military retinue of King Tadg O'Brien, brother of 
 the vanquished Turlough. No other career was open to a gentle- 
 man who had lost his connection with the soil. And loyal 
 soldiers could always look forward to a share in the fruits of 
 pillage. For the sovereign of Ireland maintained his autho- 
 rity only by a ceaseless struggle with hydra-headed rebellion, 
 strengthening himself not a little by fomenting feuds be- 
 tween the more powerful clans who were nominally subject to 
 him. Turlough O'Connor had divided Munster betwixt Tadg 
 O'Brien and Cormac MacCarthy, after banishing his own 
 formidable namesake. Those who were in the service of 
 either chieftain need never suffer from lack of victual. Bossa 
 had no alternative. He shrank from the idea of dragging his 
 family down to the condition of Bothachs, and allowing the 
 culture they had so laboriously acquired to disappear in the 
 next generation. The money he would get by selling his 
 house would be sufficient to procure admission for Amada 
 and Moriath to Eillchree, and if fortune so far favoured him 
 as to place distinction or affluence within his reach, there 
 would be no difficulty about their rejoining him — the Celtic 
 Church not having yet discovered that vows of perpetual 
 celibacy were pleasing to the Creator.* Por was not the 
 royal heir of Ireland, Boderick O'Connor, himself, descended 
 from a twiee-wedded Cailleaoh_Pe\ or nan of Glendalough ? 
 
 It was long before Eossa's resolution took definite shape. 
 Nothing but the actual pinch of want could have ripened it, 
 for the house which he proposed selling had belonged to his 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 21 
 
 family for a period beyond the memory of any one living. 
 Yet he bore it with more resignation than did Amada. She 
 did not share his buoyant hopes as to the future. 
 
 " They would have been natural enough in a young man," 
 she said, " but in him they were simply preposterous. Neither 
 King Tadg nor King Cormac would be on the throne an hour 
 after Turlough came back from Tyrone. It would be safer to 
 wait and see who was their sovereign. And the world was 
 much rougher than Eossa expected. She would not murmur 
 at her own lot, as far as creature comforts were concerned ; 
 but the constant anxiety she would feel about him would be 
 sure to shorten her days." 
 
 There were yet other hearts who sympathised with the 
 family's distress. The poor faithful servants whom Amada 
 had instructed ; the labourers who had ploughed their lands ; 
 the peasant families who had looked on Eossa as both kins- 
 man and master, showed a depth of feeling which could 
 hardly have been expected from such half-tutored men and 
 women. But their own households had lately been invaded 
 by famine and by epidemic disease, and many of them had 
 emigrated to Leinster ; and thus a wail for their own sor- 
 rows mingled with the groans of those who wept over the 
 threatened departure of their kind benefactors. 
 
CHAPTEE HI. 
 
 Eossa was not, however, permitted to carry out his plans. 
 Ere the preparations for Grainne's marriage were completed, 
 he fell a victim to the prevailing pestilence. This event 
 threw his family into a double dilemma. It at once deprived 
 them of their best earthly stay, and the means for procuring 
 an asylum for themselves. The house could not now be sold. 
 By the Brehon law it passed to the next of kin, females being 
 excluded from the succession. The sons of Eossa's only 
 Cousin were not slow in putting in their claim. Amada was 
 at first too much stunned for action. But Moriath showed 
 the spirit of a heroine. She told her sister's bridegroom that 
 he was at liberty to withdraw his offer if he felt so inclined. 
 This Olrud had no thought of doing. But he certainly looked 
 black enough at the possibility of having two additional 
 females on his hands. 
 
 " Give thyself no concern," said Moriath ; " I will take 
 service in some noble house, and I will work until I can 
 repay thee what thou expendest on my mother." 
 
 " "Where wilt thou gain admittance ? " asked Olrud. 
 
 " I shall go to each one who has eaten at our table,'' replied 
 Moriath. " I shall tell our story, and say that it is not for 
 myself I beg, but because I know thou art too poor to have 
 such a burden thrown on thee. Thou wouldst be happier 
 with Grainne alone. There is no reason why I should not 
 Work for our maintenance ; I shall find a friend somewhere." 
 
 So Moriath went from one religious settlement to another, in- 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOBE. 23 
 
 quiring for women whose fathers or husbands had been wont 
 to make much of her. I grieve to say that she was for the most 
 part very coldly received. The families to whom she applied 
 had taken her parent's kindness as a matter of course. It 
 had indeed been a condescension on their part to accept of it. 
 They had received it as an humble recognition of the greatness 
 and sacredness of their hereditary vocation. 
 
 " Amada has benefited her own soul," was their tacit re- 
 joinder. " She has no right to expect a reward on this side of 
 the grave." 
 
 Moriath at length, mounted on OJrud's pony, and accom- 
 panied by a peasant and his sister, journeyed towards Ardmore. 
 Her youthful face wore an expression of unutterable sadness. 
 There were blue circles round her dark eyes, and her pale 
 lips were firmly pressed together. She could think of no friend 
 in the settlement save the ehief Lector, and with him her 
 acquaintance was slighter than with many of those who had 
 refused to aid her. 
 
 Leaving her humble companions outside the arched gate- 
 way of the rath, she inquired timidly for Mael-Patrick's cell. 
 She was immediately conducted towards the simple stone hut 
 now known as Declan's dormitory. Entering by the low, 
 narrow doorway, she found herself in an apartment whose 
 bare walls, scarce ten feet high, were hung round with 
 leathern book-satchels, and pierced by a solitary round-headed 
 window. The Prae-lector was a young man, she knew not if 
 he were wedded. And Moriath trembled to stand in the 
 presence of one whose fame had spread far beyond the bounds 
 of his native land. A handsome, golden-haired form rose from 
 a wooden table as she entered. 
 
 Moriath could never tell what she said. Her tears flowed 
 fast, and she sobbed; for Mael-Patrick's brotherly tones 
 touched all the aching chords in her heart. She told him of 
 her weary journeys, of the coldness of her former friends. " I 
 want nothing but work,'' she said ; "I seek the favour of 
 
24 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOHE. 
 
 some one who will speak for me to a chieftain's or an abbot's 
 wife." 
 
 Very lovely Moriath looked in her mantle of dark wool, 
 bordered with green, and fastened on her breast by a small 
 silver clasp. Her large brown eyes were flashing with 
 eagerness. 
 
 Mael-Patrick placed his hands behind his head, and stepped 
 to the door. He stood for a few minutes inhaling the fresh 
 sea breezes ; then turned and seated himself at her side. 
 
 "I think that Providence showeth me something else," he 
 said, fixing his thoughtful eyes tenderly on her. " My mother 
 was taken from me some months ago, and I have felt lonely. 
 My work has taken hold upon me, and I cannot leave it to go in 
 search of a wife. I have prayed that God would send me one ; 
 and lo ! when thou didst enter my cell, it seemed as if an 
 angel touched me, saying, ' Arise, and take what the Lord 
 giveth.' " 
 
 The calm, gentle voice assured Moriath that the good 
 bishop was not jesting. She looked up in his face ; there was 
 a seraphic sweetness in it. He continued, — - 
 
 " Think not that I speak as a fooL The little that I saw 
 of thy father impressed me deeply with his worth. And thy 
 mother is one with whom the bishops' wives here cannot be 
 compared. All speak her praises, so that it passes my com- 
 prehension how they fly not to her help. Thy young heart 
 has been wounded ; let mine be the hand to bind it up." 
 
 Mael-Patrick hardly spoke with the diffidence of a lover. 
 And yet he was of a modest nature. But he was too simple- 
 minded not to expect Moriath's acquiescence. He was famed 
 for his learning and piety ; he knew that his wife would share 
 his honours. She would feel herself sanctified by union with 
 him. 
 
 Moriath was unspeakably thankful ; but she dared not 
 think entirely of herself. " And my mother ? " she asked 
 humbly. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 25 
 
 " Thy mother may dwell with us," replied Mael-Patrick ; 
 " but if itplease her to dwell with thy sister, let me bear the 
 half of her maintenance. She will be to me in the place of 
 her who is gone." 
 
 Moriath kissed his hand gratefully. How he responded to 
 that demonstration of affection she never disclosed ; but she 
 left Declan's cell with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. 
 
 Grainne received the news with bewildered astonishment, 
 and undertook to communicate it to her mother. But it pro- 
 duced an effect on Amada the very contrary of what might 
 have been expected. Whilst her children's hearts beat high at 
 this sudden deliverance from a crushing anxiety, she deemed 
 their looks of contentment slightly unbecoming. 
 
 " It was not the way that people courted in my young 
 days," she said. "I cannot say that I think Mael-Patrick has 
 behaved handsomely. A man of his standing ought to have 
 known better than take advantage of a girl's simplicity. The 
 proper way would have been to have paid me a visit, and 
 asked my consent first." 
 
 Amada was not altogether wrong in her judgment. Mael- 
 Patrick had been quite irregular in his mode of proceeding, 
 according to the manners of that age ; nothing but his entire 
 singleness of purpose could have excused him. Well-trained 
 maidens never expected to hear the accents of love till after 
 the suitor had sought and obtained the consent of their natural 
 guardians ; and it may be questioned if they were in aught 
 less happy in consequence. 
 
 " I know it was wrong, mother," said the kind-hearted 
 Grainne^ noticing how perplexed and abashed her sister was. 
 " I mean that it would have been wrong in any one but Mael- 
 Patrick. He has very little time for his own affairs. He will 
 come and ask thee properly as soon as he can make it con- 
 venient." 
 
 " Then I shall let him know my mind," replied Amada. 
 
 "I hope, mother, that thou art not going to refuse him,'' 
 
26 THE BKIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 persisted Grainne^ who was accustomed to a boldness of 
 language which would have been considered impertinence 
 from Moriath. " It would be madness for thee to do so. He 
 offers Moriath a home, and that is a great thing in the pre- 
 sent circumstances. Bethink thee, too, who Mael-Patrick is. 
 Thou must be very wicked if thou dost not expect to get 
 benefit from his sermons, thou who art always troubling thy- 
 self about thy soul." 
 
 Grainne was the more noble in her advocacy of her sister's 
 interests, because she felt a slight touch of chagrin at the 
 prospect of that sister's lot being more brilliant than her 
 own. But she had a strong love of justice, and had been 
 deeply touched by Moriath's heroism. She was also acute 
 enough to perceive that her mother's very virtues made her 
 incapable of appreciating the ordeal through which Moriath 
 had passed. 
 
 What could Amada know of the world ? She could claim 
 to have been longer in it than Grainne" had, and her trials 
 had been severe enough ; but she had never herself known 
 what it was to seek help from strangers. She had no con- 
 ception of the coldness which the prosperous so often show 
 to those who have the smallest favour to ask from them. 
 Moriath had tried to spare her feelings and keep up her spirits 
 by studiously concealing the depth of the unkindness she had 
 met with ; and she had done so the more willingly, perhaps, 
 that she had found her mother inclined to charge her with 
 an uncharitable exaggeration when she had endeavoured to 
 depict the scenes through which she had passed. Amada had 
 by far too favourable an opinion of human nature in general, 
 and of the human natures in particular which had been de- 
 veloped under the influence of habits and beliefs which she 
 held sacred. She was actually disposed to blame Moriath's 
 pride and want of tact for the ill-success of her efforts. 
 
 " And it was bold in thee to go to Ardmore," she said. " I 
 could not have done such a thing ; no, not for worlds." 
 
THE BBIDES OF ARDMOKE. 27 
 
 "I daresay thou wouldest not,'' muttered Graiiine" to herself, 
 hardly able to control her rising anger. 
 
 But the soft touch of her sister's hand silenced her. "Let 
 her alone," said the weeping Moriath. " She will see her 
 mistake in another world, if not here. If thou canst persuade 
 her to be kind to Mael-Patrick, that is all I want." 
 
 Two days later the good bishop presented himself. Amada 
 showed herself more agreeaBle than her daughters could have 
 anticipated ; and as he very gracefully apologised for the irregu- 
 larity he had committed, she soon looked, as Grainne said, 
 " almost as if she were in love with him herself." Nor would 
 it have been quite impossible for a man to reciprocate such a 
 feeling. Amada had now reached the age of' fifty-five ; but 
 much of the charm of her youth was perpetuated in the 
 graceful vivacity of her manners. Her regular features, fair 
 complexion, and wealth of soft light hair formed as pretty a 
 picture as one could wish to gaze on. And her conversation 
 was adorned by a play of wit which seemed to afford as 
 much diversion to herself as to any of her hearers. Moriath 
 was intensely happy at seeing that the two beings she loved 
 so much completely understood each other. A hallowed influ- 
 ence spread itself around, for even Olrud's harsh voice became 
 subdued in the presence of one whom he held in unfeigned 
 honour. 
 
 The wedding ceremony was as simple as could be. It took 
 place in Bishop Maidoc's little church. As his mild voice 
 spoke the irrevocable words which united the two couples to 
 each other, Amada hardly felt as if she were giving her girls 
 away ; but thought with thankfulness of how the Lord had 
 led her by a path which she knew not, and that she was now 
 indeed a mother in Israel, having Mael-Patrick for a son-in- 
 law. She blamed herself because she could not feel quite the 
 same towards Olrud. He was a bishop also ; there was no 
 fault to be found with his orthodoxy, nor with his integrity 
 either. Yet she could not help wishing that her darling 
 
28 THE BEIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 Grainne bad waited a little longer. Amada readily forgot the 
 past, and the straits she had been in when Olrud came for- 
 ward. After the marriage the brides thought of departing to 
 their respective homes. 
 
 " Thou must get ready to go," remarked Grainne to her 
 mother. " Our cousin has let us stay here only till after the 
 wedding. "We must not trespass more on his good nature. 
 Olrud thinks thou canst ride on his pillion." 
 
 " But I have been considering about it," said Amada slowly, 
 " and I have made up my mind now. Though I shall always 
 think of thee, and would like to visit thee in summer, I would 
 like — after all, I think I would like better to stay at Ardmore." 
 
 Amada hardly dared to look at her daughter's face as she 
 said this. Grainne was not, however, so much disconcerted 
 as she had anticipated. She replied in a cheerful tone — 
 
 " Well, in sooth, mother, I think it would be better. Mael- 
 Patrick is richer than Olrud, and Moriath will take good care 
 of thee. Of course, I should have liked thee, and when thou 
 tirest of them, I shall only be too glad to have thee. But 
 then, Ardmore is such a pleasant place, full of everything thou 
 canst desire, and has such good society. I can hardly expect 
 thee to prefer Killague. 
 
 Amada's words formed an era in Moriath's life. They were 
 a revelation to her, more precious even than the one which 
 she had heard from Mael-Patrick's lips in Declan's cell. The 
 affectionate self-denial of years now found an unexpected 
 reward. She could imagine no greater bliss than the con- 
 sciousness that her mother appreciated her loving care so 
 much as to prefer her roof to that of the idolised Grainne. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that the pretty circular-roofed wooden 
 cottage was built under the oak trees within the grassy rath 
 which enclosed the monastic settlement of Ardmore. There 
 Moriath enjoyed for years a social position second only to 
 that of the abbot's wife. 
 
 It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that these were 
 years of unclouded happiness. Earth is not now an Eden, 
 and the breezes of Paradise have long ceased to ripen for us 
 the fruits of contentment. For as the harmony of the planets' 
 movements is disturbed by outward and sometimes unsus- 
 pected causes, so the members of Mael-Patrick's family could 
 not fail to be influenced in their relations to one another by 
 the state of affairs in a far-off household. 
 
 Grainn4 was not happy. Her mother's foreboding of evil 
 had not been quite unfounded. She possessed an excellent 
 husband. But integrity, though a veiy desirable quality in 
 itself, does not form the sum total of what makes life tolerable 
 for us. It is like the framework of bones which gives strength 
 and shape to our figures, but when brought into undue pro- 
 minence without a sufficient covering of softer substances, is 
 apt, notwithstanding its wondrous perfection, to appear un- 
 gainly. Grainn^ had not been mistaken in saying she would 
 like to be ruled. She could have submitted to power of will 
 matched with power of intellect, but she was not long ena- 
 moured of it when separate from such companionship. Her 
 natural spirits were high, and she made a heroic effort to curb 
 
SO THE BRIDES OP AKDMOKB. 
 
 them in deference to her husband's wishes. But the habit 
 grew irksome. Her active mind worked with the more vigour 
 by reason of its being thrown so much on its own resources, 
 and she at length made the fatal discovery that her husband 
 was much her inferior ; in fact, that he was often wrong in 
 the very moment when he most took credit to himself for 
 being right. When her eyes had once been opened in this 
 way, and a closer observation confirmed their testimony, the 
 reverence with which she had regarded him was gone. The 
 memory of her. marriage vows was terribly strained by being 
 so constantly used to support her in the duty of submission. 
 Nor was Olrud altogether to blame for this. It lay in the 
 constitution of his mind. He could no more help taking 
 harsh and narrow views of things than he could help the 
 darkness of his complexion. Grainne was not altogether 
 what he had expected. She knew rather less of housekeeping 
 than he had given her credit for; in fact, she must have taken 
 more than her share of praise when under her parents' roof. 
 She was accustomed to state her views much too readily, and 
 with a decision altogether unbecoming a Christian matron in 
 presence of her husband. It required a great deal of firmness 
 and patience on his part to break her off this, and more than 
 once his dream of success in having accomplished it was 
 rudely broken through by a display of temper on her part. 
 He was not himself the meekest of men ; in fact, he was in the 
 habit of comparing his character more with that of Elijah 
 than with Moses. Grainne ought to have seen it to be an 
 aggravation of her faults that they undoubtedly hindered him 
 in the work of testifying against the corruptions of the Church 
 and of society, He was even provoked into retorting some- 
 times with more vigour than was necessary, as if he wanted 
 to crush the evil for ever. And he was much irritated at 
 perceiving that the medicine had acted too strongly; that his 
 wife was now lacking in the cheerfulness which had dis-. 
 tinguished her; in fact, that her handsome face might rather 
 
THE BKIDES OP AEDMOEE. 31 
 
 have belonged to a martyr than to a happy mother in Israel. 
 But before we blame him for this state of things we are bound 
 in all candour to examine if he was responsible for it. 
 
 Grainne' and he had been most unequally mated. She was 
 not only remarkably clever, but her natural gifts had been 
 cultivated to a degree which would have fitted a member of 
 the rougher sex for. the highest functions of government. 
 Her mind was like a full flowing stream, which in a well- 
 directed channel might have been a source of unspeakable 
 blessing and comfort to all around it ; but which, after the 
 freedom of its wild youth is past, finds itself hemmed in and 
 crushed together by the resistance of stern, unyielding rocks, 
 Her misfortune was not simply her husband's inferiority to 
 herself; it lay rather in the fact that he was quite incapable 
 of appreciating her. His idea of what a woman should be 
 was founded partly on literary descriptions, but still more on 
 the productions of his own inner consciousness ; for, unknown 
 to himself, Olrud possessed some grains of a faculty he pro- 
 fessed to despise, and was more indebted to imagination than 
 to revelation in this very matter. The age had long passed 
 when women had been slaves. That was a relic of heathenism, 
 which the spirit of Christianity had so far banished as to give 
 to a Bridget and a Cera the highest of places in Celtic hagio- 
 logy. But every woman could not be a Bridget, and the 
 near approach to equality which the working of liberal 
 ecclesiastical institutions had procured for her was not as 
 yet quite realised or acknowledged. Grainne, moreover, had 
 been spoiled by her mother. She had never been accustomed 
 to put the rein on her rebellious spirit, and the lesson of sub- 
 mission was now doubly hard. All honour to her for learning 
 it as she did. No ascetic who lies on the bare ground and 
 scourges himself has half so hard a battle with the flesh. 
 But there were ugly scars remaining from the conflict, and 
 it needed all the balm of Christian principle to make the two 
 hearts forget their soreness, 
 
82 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 And no conflict can happen quite unobserved. Strangers 
 might not notice it; indeed, many thought that Grainne 
 must be either very good or very blind to get on so well with 
 Olrud. But her altered appearance when she first visited 
 Ardmore gave both Amada and Moriath a sad shock. Her 
 features were the same, there could be no doubt of that, and 
 when alone with them she sometimes enjoyed a laugh in her 
 old merry way. But her opinions were advanced, even to 
 Mael-Patrick, with an unwonted timidity, and the look of 
 chastened fear she cast on her husband when asking his con- 
 sent to anything had something strikingly painful in it 
 She was changed — changed beyond the hope of recovery. A 
 sadness had stamped itself on her handsome features, and 
 quenched the bright, keen sparkle of her dark eyes. It was 
 the same face, with the freshness of youth for ever gone, and 
 the cares of middle life written on it far too closely. 
 
 Can we wonder if a feeling of bitterness arose in the minds 
 of both mother and sister ? Grainne never complained ; only 
 once when Moriath, throwing her arms around her neck, 
 asked if she were not happy, she burst into a copious flood of 
 tears. She never said that her husband was unkind; it was 
 touching, indeed, to hear her identifying herself with him. 
 But nothing can deceive loving eyes, and even Mael-Patrick 
 shook his head when he spoke of her appearance in former 
 days. The memory of that visit left a gloom in the peaceful 
 cottage. 
 
 Moriath felt that her mother's heart was elsewhere. Amada 
 had indeed too many resources to allow of her constantly 
 brooding. Her time during the bright hours was mostly 
 given to reading. The Sacred Scriptures, the Confessions 
 of Augustine, the Commentaries of Sedulius, and the stories 
 of the martyrs were never-failing treasuries of interest for 
 her. But during the long hours of semi-darkness by her 
 daughter's fireside, or meditating on her fur-covered couch, 
 she passed many watches in groaning and tears. She felt 
 
THE BB1DES OF ABDMOBE. S3 
 
 herself afflicted beyond measure, all the more so that it was 
 by a grief whose extent was hidden from her. 
 
 " I saw it all at a glance," she said ; " I looked at his hard 
 face, and I knew how it was. Grainne was never accustomed 
 to dictation from any one. She was not a girl it was good 
 for. Thou wouldst have borne it better, Moriath ; 'tis in thy 
 nature." 
 
 " Indeed I would not, mother," replied Moriath ; " I never 
 would have placed myself in the way of it ; but I would not 
 have covered it up as she does ; I would have cleared the air 
 by a storm." 
 
 " Thou couldst not have had a storm with Olrud," re- 
 plied Amada ; " thou wouldst soon have been wrecked." 
 
 In vain did Moriath try to divert her mother's mind by 
 assiduous attentions. Amada was nursed and tended like a 
 princess. The best seat in church was kept for her ; and the 
 most able men were encouraged to come and converse with 
 her on the long winter evenings. Her every want was antici- 
 pated. But her thoughts were far away with the child of her 
 heart. 
 
 There was indeed a striking contrast in the lot of the two 
 sisters. Mael-Patrick was reported rich, not in the way 
 that we understand the word, nor in the way that it would 
 have been understood by an Irish chieftain. But he had 
 more than most bishops, much more than was sufficient 
 for his humble wants. The heads of the Ardmore com- 
 munity lived in a style that was almost luxurious, their 
 principal meal being taken in the great refectory, whilst 
 Amada's were supplied from the college kitchen. Her 
 simple mind could scarcely grasp the idea that it was 
 possible to wish for better. And Moriath had only one 
 child, whilst the poorer Grainne had to struggle through the 
 task of providing for six. From no point of view did the con- 
 trast present itself more vividly to Amada's mind than from 
 that of education. She saw clearly how it would be. Sorcha 
 
 4 
 
34 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE, 
 
 would have every advantage which that age could offer. No 
 Norman nor Irish princess could be nurtured with more care, 
 or have her eyes and fingers better trained in all feminine 
 arts. She would be entitled to a place amongst the noblest 
 and most distinguished ; and she was being reared on a soil 
 which had nourished worse seeds into forms of enduring beauty. 
 The other little ones, some of whom had inherited Amada's own 
 features, and about whom she could trace signs of their descent 
 from beloved ones now in glory, would have need of all their 
 native vigour to push upwards from the common level of their 
 countrymen. Amada would have liked all her grandchildren 
 to be distinguished ; indeed, she would scarce wish to own 
 them for hers if they were not. She had a very keen sens e 
 of the value of a thorough training to prepare them for be- 
 coming so. " The very carrots need the husbandman's hand," 
 she would say to Moriath. " Our children's characters are 
 greatly our own work. I know well I have not done my 
 duty by thee, but that is no reason why thou and Grainne 
 should not do yours." 
 
 Thus the years wore on, Amada fretting more and more 
 over her inability to help her younger daughter. But a more 
 terrible trial was in store for her. Mael-Patrick was 
 stricken with deadly fever; Moriath caught the infection 
 whilst nursing him, and both were consigned to an untimely 
 tomb. 
 
 Sorcha was then fifteen years of age. Her father, with 
 wise foresight, had evaded the working of the Brehon laws by 
 purchasing from the abbot a right for his daughter to reside 
 in the old cottage. She had a claim on the college for main- 
 tenance and education, and no objection could possibly be 
 made to her grandmother's sharing the humble roof with her. 
 There need be no anxiety about Sorcha's future. Within the 
 rath of Ardmore she would be well sheltered from the storms 
 which were then rending the nation into fragments ; and by 
 right of birth alone she was entitled to have her interests 
 
THE BBIDES OP ABDMOKE. 85 
 
 furthered in every way. Her father's labours had thrown 
 such a lustre over Ardmore that the family of its pastorg 
 would have considered themselves disgraced if she had been 
 suffered to lack anything. If troublous times came, if Danish 
 pirates were to scatter the learned community, or if unholy 
 hands were again to rifle the treasury of Declan, why then 
 Sorcha would be no worse off than other maidens. She 
 would be sure to acquire those aptitudes which would make 
 her an honoured guest at any European court. 
 
 Mael-Patrick's death was sincerely mourned. He had been 
 beloved as few of his colleagues or predecessors had ever been. 
 No great demonstration of esteem had gladdened him in his 
 lifetime ; but over his mouldering bones men began to realise 
 that a great man had passed away. He had been made of 
 the same stuff as the olden saints; as the men who 
 had attended on Patrick's footsteps ; as those who had sailed 
 with Columba to bestow a new baptism and a new name on 
 the wildCaledonians, or those others who had founded amongst 
 the snowy Alps communities which were an everlasting 
 praise to the "Western Church. Projects which his loving 
 voice would never have succeeded in recommending, now be- 
 came quite feasible, because he had formed them. Amongst 
 these was the transplantation of Bishop Maidoc to a congenial 
 soil. This excellent man was called to Ardmore, to fill 
 Mael-Patrick's place as theological lector and custodian of 
 parchments. In this Amada greatly rejoiced. It was like the 
 return of old times, she said. And she had been partly the 
 means of it. Mael-Patrick had known Maidoc all the better 
 by reason of her descriptions ; and she had lost no time in 
 telling the abbot how much her son-in-law had set his heart 
 on it. It was a great benefit to the Church to have a man 
 like Maidoc drawn out of obscurity ; and it was a gratification 
 for Amada to see his kindness to her and hers repaid to him 
 tenfold. 
 
 Maidoc proved himself worthy of the honour. His powers 
 
86 THE BBIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 in the pulpit were beginning to fail ; and teaching was a work 
 for which he had a special aptitude. His worth was soon 
 recognised, and his unassuming manners awakened no 
 jealousy amongst his brethren. He and his wife felt a special 
 obligation to act the part of parents towards Sorcha. Thus' 
 the widow and orphan found counsellors provided for them at 
 the time when they were most in need. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Amada soon became alive to her new responsibilities. Her 
 daughter's sudden death was a rude awakening from the 
 dream which had carried her away from the realities of her 
 present surroundings. It was very painful for her aged eyes 
 to adjust themselves to their new relations, but she pos-. 
 sessed too much native vigour to shrink from the ordeal. 
 The blow that would have crushed a meaner spirit only 
 stimulated her to take a fresh hold on life. She was now 
 responsible for something, and that something stood before 
 her in the shape of a very lovely girl, whose features recalled 
 memories of one whom all Erin almost worshipped, and 
 whose flashing dark eyes were the image of Moriath's. 
 Sorcha's tones never fell unheeded on her ears; Sorcha's 
 gentle touch thrilled her aged frame with new life, like the 
 soft spring rain falling on some brown, knotted trunk. 
 Amada was indeed little able to attend to household affairs, 
 but there was no need for her doing so. The warm-hearted 
 peasant girl who had accompanied Moriath in her memorable 
 journey had been retained in their service. She did the 
 rougher work, whilst the culinary skill which Sorcha acquired 
 in the college kitchen supplied the rest. Amada felt herself 
 gliding very gently downwards towards the ocean of eternity, 
 but she was glad to linger on the broadening river of time 
 and catch a glimpse of what was likely to come after her. 
 
 She was seated on that July afternoon with an open parch- 
 ment on her knee. But her eyes had long ceased to dwell 
 
38 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 on it. They had wandered from the glorious imagery of Isaiah 
 to view the heavenly city, amidst whose ineffable brightness 
 she hoped soon to see the faces so dear to her, and to hear 
 the burst of music which should herald her own arrival 
 amongst them. She mused on that wondrous prospect till 
 the Uncreated Love seemed to cover her round as with a veil, 
 and her wrinkled face glowed with a happiness which no ob- 
 ject in that picturesquely-furnishedroom could have accounted 
 for. The stillness was intense, but her increasing deafness 
 made her unaware that it was at length broken. She shrank 
 back as Sorcha's light hand came suddenly on her shoulder. 
 
 " Is it thou, child ? " she exclaimed. " Thou hast made me 
 start. I thought I was away with thy father and mother, and 
 that they brought me flowers from the banks of the river of 
 life." 
 
 " Then they did something like what I have done," replied 
 Sorcha, as she placed an exquisite blossom on her grand- 
 mother's knee. 
 
 "It is beautiful," said Amada. "How earnest thou to 
 pluck it ? " 
 
 " I sought one of these lilies at the pond," replied Sorcha. 
 " There is a pool where they grow very thickly, but it was 
 impossible to reach it ; all the buds grew so far out, and 
 there was nothing but leaves near the edge. Who, thinkeat 
 thou, helped me ? " 
 
 " How should I know ? " asked Amada. 
 
 " A young man named Fergus 0' Flannahan," continued 
 Sorcha. " He is one of the travellers who are to speak on 
 Declan's birthday. Ita Ni-Bric says she used to meet him in 
 thy house." 
 
 "Oh! Fergus, to be sure," exclaimed Amada, with the 
 little laugh which did duty for her smile. " Said he aught of 
 moment to thee ? " 
 
 Sorcha's face showed the slightest suspicion of a blush. 
 " Yea," she answered. " He asked how thou farest, and said 
 
THE BBIDES OF AKDMOKE, 39 
 
 he hoped to see thee soon. And he said I was very like my 
 mother, as like as the rosebud is to the rose. " 
 
 Amada let go the parchment. Leaning backwards in her 
 chair, she laughed heartily. 
 
 "He is a poet,"' she said at length, " a second Cairbre. 
 But I shall be glad to see him. Is that all thy news ? " 
 
 " The two messengers have given their report," replied 
 Sorcha. " Ita says it is considered weighty. And the abbot 
 came to me whilst I was working in Maidoc's cell. He asked 
 if thou wouldst be at home this afternoon.'' 
 
 " Did he ? " exclaimed Amada. " He has not seen me in 
 church for a long time." 
 
 " I doubt if he has noticed it," said Sorcba. " Though 
 indeed he might, seeing thou art wont to sit in- the front row. 
 His wife never troubles herself to ask for thee." 
 
 " Poor woman ! " said Amada with a slight shake of her 
 head. " But they all mean to be kind ; they cannot be expected 
 to think of an old creature like me. But he cometh ! " 
 
 A dark form was then passing the window. Sorcha rose from 
 the low stool on which she had seated herself, and opening 
 the door, curtseyed reverently to the figure who stood before it. 
 
 He was a massively-built man, with heavy shoulders and 
 a large head, crowned with iron-grey locks. His brow was 
 slightly flat on the temples, and was rendered unnaturally 
 prominent by a band of baldness which extended above it, 
 and was continued over the ears : this was the tonsure which 
 the Culdee bishops so long retained as a distinguishing 
 feature of their communion. The abbot's face was much 
 marked by lines of studious thought. His deep-set eyes, his 
 straight nose, with its wide nostrils, and his firm lips, showed 
 him to be a man whose sphere was not likely to be bounded 
 by his library walls. Amada rose at his approach. 
 
 " Sit thee down, sit thee down ; the Lord bless thee ! " said 
 the abbot. 
 
 Amada obeyed, having caught his meaning from the 
 
40 THE BKIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 motion of his lips. Sorcha placed a chair by her grand- 
 mother's side. The abbot thanked her with a slight nod, but 
 seated himself on the end of the other couch. 
 
 This was very tantalising to Amada. The abbot's visits 
 were so rare, that it was doubly hard for her to lose any of 
 his conversation. Increasing infirmities had long debarred 
 her from the privilege of attending public worship, and she 
 understood that the abbot had come to visit her, not Sorcha. 
 
 He looked critically at the room, with its walls of polished 
 pine, and the quaintly-carved rafters of its ceiling ; then at 
 the round stone fireplace, where a single log of wood 
 smouldered, and at the silver-tipped crosier suspended near 
 the head of the couch where he had seated himself. 
 
 " Thy grandmother must find it quiet here,'' he remarked 
 at length. 
 
 "No, I believe she does not," replied Sorcha. "She is 
 extremely fond of reading. She has the Bible, with Augustine 
 and Sedulius in Irish translations, besides the books that 
 Bishop Maidoc lends her. Not to speak of Duns Scotus." 
 
 Amada disliked extremely to see lips moving when the 
 sounds that issued from them were unintelligible to her. She 
 drew the end of her couch nearer to that of the abbot, and 
 leaning forward, recalled him to a sense of her presence by 
 inquiring — r 
 
 " I hope thy wife is well ? 'Tis long since I saw her." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the abbot. " She is well. Wouldst 
 thou wish her to visit thee ? " 
 
 " I should," replied Amada. 
 
 Sorcha turned away to hide her dissatisfaction. 
 
 " I hear of thy family sometimes from my grand-daughter," 
 continued the old lady. " She spends half the day in the 
 college. She goes there in the morning to learn cooking and 
 medicine from Ita Ni-Bric. 
 
 " Indeed ! " responded the abbot, with a slight elevation of 
 his eyebrows. " Ita Ni-Bric is a worthy woman." 
 
THE BKIDES OP AKDMOBE. 41 
 
 " And Maidoo himself," continued Amada, " is so kind as 
 to let Sorcha have the use of Declan's cell when he teaches 
 in the church. She has nearly finished copying the Gospels. 
 Thy daughter has the most skill in that, they say." 
 
 " Yea," replied the abbot, with a gratified smile. '* Some 
 of Mor's work has been sent to England." 
 
 " The messengers have returned from Eome ? " asked 
 Amada, eagerly. 
 
 " They have," replied her visitor. " "We are satisfied with 
 their report. It was wise to send two, for one corrects the 
 errors of the other. The public meeting will be on Declan's 
 birthday. Thou wilt be there ? " 
 
 Amada shook her head. " No ! " she exclaimed. " If I were 
 ten years younger I should not be the one to stay away. I 
 must be content to hear of it." 
 
 The abbot now rose to go. Amada looked dissatisfied. 
 She laid her hand on his arm. 
 
 " Thou knowest that I never hear thy ministrations," she 
 pleaded. 
 
 The three knelt together on the rush-covered floor. A voice 
 rose in prayer, but only two hearts went in unison with it. 
 The third felt herself shut out from the blessing, and was 
 forced to seek, with a strong inward groaning, for something 
 special to herself. 
 
 Amada received the abbot's benediction with a grave sad- 
 ness. There was silence for a few minutes after the door 
 had closed behind him. The two women looked at each 
 other, and Sorcha perceived a tear rolling down her grand- 
 mother's cheek : stepping forward she kissed it away. 
 
 " I trust thou art pleased with the visit," she said. 
 
 " Alas, my child ! " exclaimed the old lady, " I could not 
 hear one word he said. Couldst thou not tell him to raise his 
 voice ? " 
 
 " I dared not interrupt him,'' replied Sorcha. " It is strange 
 how he cannot remember, for I told him when he spoke to me 
 
42 
 
 THE BKIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 this afternoon that thou couldest hear very well when people 
 came close enough." 
 
 " I fear he cares not for it," said Amada. " I would have 
 been just as well not to have seen him. And a man that 
 could tell me the very things I would fain hear. But old 
 people are of no use in the world." 
 
 " Say not so, grandmother ! " cried Sorcha, throwing her- 
 self down again on the stool, and laying both her hands on 
 the old lady's. " How could I do without thee ? And I am 
 sure thy mind is as good as his, though he knows it not." 
 
 " As good as the abbot's ! " exclaimed Amada, forced to 
 laugh in spite of herself. " Child, thou art presumptuous ! " 
 
 " Indeed I am not, grandmother," persisted the beautiful 
 girl, her brown eyes filling with tears of vexation. ' ' Maidoc 
 and his wife think thou hast a very clear view of things. 
 Maidoc says if thou hadst been Queen of Ireland, church 
 affairs would never have come to the pass they have done." 
 
 " Thou flatterest," said the old lady, looking tenderly at 
 her. " But I return the compliment, and say if Maidoc had 
 been king — No, I shall not. A higher hand turneth men's 
 hearts." 
 
 Sorcha had a deep cause for dissatisfaction. She was now 
 old enough to be aware that the estimation in which her 
 grandmother was held amongst the Ardmore family was not 
 quite consonant to what her mother's had been. Amada was 
 entitled to respect, not only on account of her age, but because 
 she was a living example of Culdee training, and had a grasp 
 of intellect which would have made her opinion worth seek- 
 ing by responsible leaders. But there were some who did 
 not care to discover this. Amada was indeed the mother-in- 
 law of Mael-Patrick, but she could claim no cousinship with 
 any of the ruling families in church or state. Sorcha had not 
 failed to mark the condescending tone with which women who 
 had not a tithe of her education spoke of her grandmother ; 
 and of late she had been particularly aggrieved by the 
 
THE BBIDES OP ABDMORB. 43 
 
 haughty airs which the abbot's wife had assumed towards 
 herself. This lady was of royal descent : she was daughter to 
 the deceased Nigel MacAid, presbyter abbot of Armagh, co- 
 arb of Patrick, who, though dispossessed by Eomish innova- 
 tors of a heritage which his family had enjoyed for fifteen 
 generations,* had been acknowledged as their ard-episcop by 
 the majority of Irishmen. Uailsi was a woman of high talent 
 and of high pretension. She had made herself unpopular by 
 her assumptions of superiority over the other bishops' wives. 
 These would have thought themselves honoured in giving pre- 
 cedence to a daughter of the Ua-Breasail. But their courtesy 
 had been met by such an utter want of sympathy, that they 
 groaned under a moral yoke which it was impossible to shake 
 off. Things were not as they had been in the family. Envy 
 and smothered resentment now reigned in hearts which had 
 formerly thrown themselves unreservedly into every good 
 work. And many minds were not strong enough to bear this 
 social cross without the gratification of manufacturing a 
 similar one for others. The abbot's wife kept her head high 
 above theirs ; they took pains, therefore, to keep the more 
 lowly-born Amada in her proper place. 
 
 The abbot himself was not unpopular, though holding his 
 office by no hereditary right. Ardmore was the chief reli- 
 gious foundation of the Deisi, one of whose families, the 
 O'Brics, had centuries ago been overpowered and driven into 
 a corner by the O'Faolains. The O'Faolains had for some 
 time claimed the right of supplying an abbot, but the O'Brics 
 recovering strength, each new election became the occasion 
 of such bitter feuds that both parties at length agreed to be 
 ruled by a stranger ; and they accordingly applied to the 
 abbot of Durrow, co-arb of Columba, to appoint over them 
 one of his own kin. Ere O'Conaill had long been looked 
 on as one of the rising stars of the Church. He had now 
 reached the zenith of his fame, and shone with a light which 
 * Appendix. 
 
'44 
 
 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 was steady, if somewhat chill, so that men reproved them- 
 selves for not feeling more warmed by it. His face was a 
 picture of calm benevolence. Many loved him, but those 
 who did so were none of the younger generation. Some who 
 knew he wished them well were profane enough to whisper 
 that his part was played out ; that his mind was in his parch- 
 ments ; or that it was like a used-up field from which no new 
 sympathies could be expected to spring. Yet Sorcha could not 
 thus account for his coldness to Amada. She had observed 
 that there were people in whose presence he could exert 
 himself. She therefore suspected that he was incapable of 
 realising the growth of any intellectual blossoms outside of 
 clerical circles. " Those who are not the cousins of bishops," 
 she said bitterly, " are not worthy to talk with him on 
 serious subjects." 
 
 Amada had a dim inkling of this ; but she was much too 
 charitable to express it. She was, moreover, well sheltered 
 in the cottage walls. Her perception of social inequalities 
 was not sharpened, like Sorcha's, by the daily contact of 
 mutually irritating forces. Her disappointment was, how- 
 ever, too great on the present occasion to be altogether 
 hidden. 
 
 " And I admired him so much ! " she continued, in a sort 
 of soliloquy; "there was no one I liked better to hear. I 
 could always be sure that his explanation of a passage was 
 the correct one.'' 
 
 "The abbot is a man of erudition," said Sorcha; "but 
 not more so than Maidoc. Thy daughter Grainne' hath 
 taught me to observe, when the two have been speaking on 
 the same subject, that it has taken the abbot a hundred 
 words to express what Maidoc has made perfectly clear in 
 ten." 
 
 " I understand that," said Amada ; " though I should not 
 have thought it." 
 
 " Grainne thinks the abbot learned," continued Sorcha, 
 
THE BRIDES OP AKDMOKE. 45 
 
 " but she will not allow that he is gifted. He has a wonderful 
 faculty for collecting facts, and arranging them in valuable 
 forms. He is like a bee who knows how to extract the essence 
 of flowers. Some men's minds, however, are like the flowers 
 themselves — they distil honey. These are the highest order, 
 and Grainne says the abbot is not one of them." 
 
 " I suppose Fergus O'Mannahan is," said Amada, with a 
 laugh, which Sorcha could in no way account for. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " but he is apt to give us a surfeit. 
 Now the best kind of talent is partly of the bee and partly 
 of the flower class. Those who are altogether bees suck so 
 greedily that they get heavy, they can't fly ; and those 
 who are nothing but flowers, sometimes try tp satisfy us 
 with scent. Maidoc is a good deal of the bee, with a little 
 of the flower ; that -is what makes him so pleasant to hear. 
 You get fed without being aware of it.' There is something 
 a-wanting in the abbot's sermons. The energy and earnest- 
 ness of his youth may have once made up for it ; but we feel 
 the deficiency now, when we compare him with others." 
 
 " It would take thy father's child to do it," said Amada. 
 "Is it not wonderful that Maidoc has got no further on in 
 the world?" 
 
 "He would make an excellent abbot," replied Sorcha. 
 " He is as calm and judicious as Ere O'Conaill, and much 
 warmer-hearted." 
 
 "It is his own fault," said Amada. 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha, " Maidoc is over-modest. But 
 that is a fault, too, grandmother, most of all in a man. He 
 and Ita live in a little world of their own, as far as the 
 expression of their feelings is concerned." 
 
 " True," replied Amada. " But those who think them 
 ciphers make a great mistake. They appear to see nothing 
 when they are in company, yet everything is being written 
 on their memories for future use. Ita has a difficult post to 
 fill." 
 
46 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 " She certainly has," replied Sorcha. " She has been 
 appointed to superintend the training of the girls in both 
 kitchen and pharmacy. It is a great responsibility. But 
 the fathers would not have given it to her if they had not 
 thought her equal to it. Her patience is marvellous ; she 
 never loses her temper, and looks fearlessly, yet humbly, at 
 the abbot's wife. Nor less so at the chief cook, with whom 
 she never interferes. Now, grandmother, how couldest thou 
 be so foolish as to ask the Lady Uailsi to visit thee ? " 
 
 " I did not think, child," replied Amada. " I can hardly 
 believe she is so proud as thou sayest. She is very clever, 
 and perhaps the people here do not understand her." 
 
 " Dost thou mean that the men of Armagh are a higher 
 race, or have more learning ?" asked Sorcha. 
 
 " No," replied Amada ; " but I thought it was best to try 
 and be friendly." 
 
 " Indeed," muttered Sorcha to herself. '* Well, grand- 
 mother," she said aloud, " the best I can wish for thee is 
 that she will not come. I shall not say that either of you is 
 superior to the other, but you are different, and about as well 
 matched as the bluebell would be with the rose leaf. And 
 there is no need for thee to praise her daughter's work. 
 Thou knowest quite well that when a copy of the Gospels 
 was to be sent to the English king, every one thought, and I 
 knew myself, that mine was the best. Yet hers was sent, 
 because it had a few extra red spirals. The Lady Uailsi 
 came to me this very afternoon, when I was working in 
 Declan's cell. She asked me to show her what I had done, 
 and she looked closely at every page, as if she were trying 
 to get ideas for Mor. 
 
 " Say not so, child ! " said Amada. " I cannot bear when 
 thou thinkest so hardly of people." 
 
 " I would fain not have done so," replied Sorcha. " I 
 was very happy, and quite ready to show her everything 
 that she was pleased to take an interest in. But the look, 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 47 
 
 on her face struck me — it was as if she were mortified at my 
 success." 
 
 "Wei], well!" said Amada, " Mor and she cannot deny 
 it thee, poor things ! They will have plenty of trials if 
 they do not bend a little. The high horse is a troublesome 
 beast to ride. I venture to say that the people on the 
 back of it are far worse off than those who have to journey 
 on foot." 
 
 "To be sure," said Sorcha, laughing. "I wish I could 
 be content to look up from a safe level, like Ita and thou. 
 But thou knowest I am ambitious ? " 
 
 " Thou art !" exclaimed Amada, looking at her with grati- 
 fied pride. " Just bring me one of thy pictured Psalters, I 
 wish to look at it myself." 
 
CHAPTEE VL 
 
 Whilst Amada discussed with her grand-daughter the reasons 
 for the abhot's unpopularity, a solitary bishop sat in Declan's 
 cell poring over the dim tracings of a mouldering parchment. 
 The massive wooden chair on which he was seated had lately 
 borne a fairer burden, relics of whose presence remained in 
 the crimson-feathered quill, and elegantly-carved black oak 
 inkstand which stood on the desk before him. It was a little 
 chamber with low roof and bare walls. The door when open 
 commanded a magnificent view over the sea, now glowing in 
 the warm hues of sunset. But to this Maidoc was completely 
 oblivious. He had a keen eye for the beauties of nature, but 
 he was at this moment overpowered with the thought of what 
 immense riches were contained in the two massive chests 
 which stood on either side of him, and of which he carried the 
 keys concealed beneath the folds of the black woollen mantle 
 which covered his ample breast. 
 
 The fragrance of many lives, the golden stores of wisdom 
 amassed by centuries of labour, were all embalmed and pre- 
 served for him in a small compass ; and he felt awed and 
 humbled at his own presumptuousness in venturing to commit 
 to paper any thoughts of his own in the unseen presence of 
 those spirits who were perhaps permitted to watch over the 
 preservation and garnering of their own harvests. His eye 
 at length fell on Sorcha's pen. 
 
 " 'Tis "wonderful to live in such atime," he reflected, " when 
 even a slight girl may wield that mighty instrument. She 
 
THE BKIDES OP ABDMOKE. 49 
 
 has genius, if a quick intelligence and a sense of the beautiful 
 may be called so. Many may have regretted that Mael-Pat- 
 rick had not a son, but it was not the way of Providence. 
 Erin is in need of such a one. Had his great abilities, his meek 
 and loving spirit, been united to the fire of youth in a man 
 whose position would have commanded attention, there would 
 have been a force potent enough to have drawn the whole 
 nation from those temptations to foreign innovation which 
 will prove its ruin. But the dove nestles where one would 
 hear the roar of the lion. God, Thou knowest what is best 
 for us, Thou must have other means of working ! Chasten us 
 not according to our deserts." 
 
 Maidoc's head had sunk forward on his hands. A sound 
 now startled him — it was the creaking of the door. He 
 looked up slightly bewildered. 
 
 But a sunny face greeted him, and a step crossed his 
 threshold whose presence he never regarded as an intrusion. 
 Ita Ni-Bric was, like himself, of massive build, but with more 
 alacrity and decision in her movements. Her hair, prema- 
 turely grey, was smoothly braided and covered by a black- 
 edged white kerchief, whilst her blue eyes beamed with an 
 expression of intense benevolence. Her chequered black 
 and green tunic was confined by a black inar and a girdle of 
 leather ; and her feet were encased in dark sandals. She 
 came forward with affectionate meekness, and laid her hand 
 on Maidoc's shoulder. 
 
 " It groweth late," she said. " Thou hast read more than 
 enough this day. I come to beg for thy company." 
 
 " Wherefore, wife ? " asked Maidoc, with the petulant 
 submission of a well-trained child disturbed amidst its 
 favourite playthings. 
 
 " Thou wilt not deny me," -said Ita, with more confidence. 
 " I think it would be well for thee to visit Amada this night. 
 Sorcha told me to-day that she often longs to see thee. And 
 
 5 
 
50 THE BKIDES OP AEDMOBE. 
 
 I fear the maiden has been made unhappy by a visit from 
 the Lady Uailsi." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Maidoc, laying down his parchment. 
 " She must not lose heart." 
 
 " And a youth waiteth without for speech of thee," added 
 Ita, an amused smile hovering about the corners of her 
 mouth. 
 
 " "Who is it ? " asked her husband, in a faint whisper. 
 
 " Ardal O'Brien, the prince-bishop, foster-son to our late 
 abbot," replied Ita, her mild eyes glowing with pleasure. 
 
 " Thou shouldest not have let him wait," said Maidoc, 
 anxiously drawing himself up as if apprehensive of some 
 trial. " Wilt thou bid him enter ? " 
 
 Ita stepped noiselessly out. She soon returned, followed 
 by a young man of some thirty summers. 
 
 Ardal had a tall and handsome figure, and an air of dis- 
 tinction which set it off to full advantage. His high intel- 
 lectual brow was the more striking by reason of the Celtic 
 tonsure which surmounted it. He had regular features, 
 brown eyes, and abundance of light clustering hair. There 
 was a gravity and sweetness in his countenance which could 
 not fail to propitiate the beholder. 
 
 He came forward deferentially and grasped Maidoc's hand. 
 There was something candid and decided in his manner of 
 doing so. But this expression of good-will was apparently 
 lost. Maidoc's arm seemed almost inanimate, and instead 
 of returning the pressure, he allowed the hand to drop from 
 his visitor's hold and sink helplessly at his side. The words 
 that had apparently risen to his lips lacked courage to find 
 their way out. 
 
 "I should like to have some talk alone with thee," said 
 Ardal, looking earnestly at the reverend lector. " I trust 
 thou wert satisfied with our report this morning ? " 
 
 " The twelve brethren have expressed themselves to that 
 effect," replied Maidoc, cautiously. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 51 
 
 Ita now stood at the window, watching her husband and 
 the stranger very closely. An expression of glowing con- 
 tentment animated her whole person as she heard them 
 interchange words. She immediately offered a chair to 
 her guest ; then, seating herself near the door, she waited 
 with folded hands in anticipation of their farther converse. 
 
 But a pause followed. Maidoc was looking upwards, as if 
 waiting for inspiration to come to him. Ardal did not in- 
 terrupt his meditation. The lector at length spoke. 
 
 " It will need further discussion," he said. " Thou and 
 thy friend have been approved by us. But the questions 
 which we have sought your help in solving are too momentous 
 to be fully treated in a morning sitting." 
 
 " I feel that strongly," replied Ardal. " Nor is the family of 
 Ardmore alone competent to decide. The Bomans had a 
 proverb, 'Vox populi, vox Dei.' I would not go so far 
 myself, yet I feel that the educated laity are as likely to 
 arrive at wise decisions as are the fathers. The matters 
 touch them nearly. Therefore I look forward to Thursday's 
 gathering with fear and trembling." 
 
 " I share thy views," replied Maidoc. " Thy stay in 
 foreign lands has, I presume, made thee all the more 
 sensible to the vital nature of our differences with other 
 churches." 
 
 " Say rather with another Church," replied Ardal. " The 
 Bishop of Borne claims that the community under his control 
 is alone entitled to that name. And there are various 
 degrees of submission to his authority, even within its fold." 
 
 " I agree with thee," said Maidoc. " The time has now 
 come when we must decide to go either back or forward : 
 back to the simple faith of Patrick and Bridget ; or forwards 
 to the impressive ceremonies which are held in so much 
 esteem by the rest of Christendom." 
 
 " By the rest truly," said Ardal, sighing. " That makes a 
 painful impression on me. If we take the separate points 
 
52 THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 which distinguish ns, such as the adoration of the Virgin, I 
 must truly say I think we are more of the mind of the 
 apostles. But Paul himself says that the Church is one. 
 How, then, should we differ from all the Lord's people ? " 
 
 " The Church has had its errors and its schisms," replied 
 Maidoc. " They troubled the earliest congregations of Asia. 
 It seems to me as if the devil were at work even here in our 
 midst. Each heart is a battle-field between him and the 
 Holy Spirit. And why should the Church as a whole not be 
 open to his attacks ? Where the good seed falleth, there are 
 the tares. It will be a conflict between the new man and the 
 old until the last " 
 
 " But has not the Saviour promised to be with us ? " said 
 Ardal. " The Almighty cannot surely let His own Church 
 fall into ruin." 
 
 " He permitted the Hebrew nation to go astray," replied 
 Maidoc. "Why may not the Church yield to like tempta- 
 tions ? I see it working amongst ourselves. Men in high 
 places trust in the sacredness of their office, instead of in the 
 living God." 
 
 " I see thy meaning," said Ardal. " But is that not a 
 sign of our consecration not being perfect ? " 
 
 " I will ask thee this," said Maidoc. " Hast thou observed 
 aught of the kind elsewhere ? " 
 
 " In truth I have," replied Ardal. "Pride and selfishness, 
 the love of applause, and other vanities of the flesh are not 
 unknown in Italy. My counsel will be that we stand fast by 
 the old paths, even as Patrick and Columba have taught us." 
 
 " There thou art in error, my son," said Maidoc. " Thou 
 art taking the first step that will lead us into temptation. It 
 is ours to hold a record before whose ineffable splendour the 
 highest glory of the classic Muses is but as glimmering moon- 
 light. Let us not, then, go back to the history of our own 
 island for anything more brilliant." 
 
 " Truly thou speakest well," said Ardal. " The Romans 
 
THE BKIDES OF ABDMOBE. 53 
 
 may say Jerome as we say Patrick, or even Peter as we say 
 John. The spring of knowledge should be purest at the 
 fountain-head." 
 
 '• My husband," said Ita, rising, " thy supper awaits thee 
 in our dwelling. If thou wilt deign to share it," she added, 
 turning to Ardal, " thou mayest continue to converse by our 
 hearth." 
 
 " Willingly,'' said the young man, rising. " By the way, I 
 would ask thee if that fair maiden, Mael-Patrick's daughter, 
 dwelleth within this rath ? " 
 
 "She dwells in her father's cottage," replied Ita, "with 
 none but her aged grandmother." 
 
 " Thou hast seen her passing through the wood," said 
 Maidoc ; " and, if I mistake not, thou hast studied other 
 tongues than that of Hellas. Thou hast even become 
 acquainted with ditties which savour not of the cathedral." 
 
 The young man blushed deeply. His downcast eyes had 
 a half guilty look. 
 
 "Thou shouldst tell the grounds of thy suspicion, Maidoc," 
 said Ita. 
 
 Maidoc did not answer, but rolled up the parchment he 
 had been studying, and, grasping it firmly in his hand, 
 walked slowly out of the hut. 
 
 Ita and Ardal followed. The former paused to lock the 
 door, and took the opportunity of laying her hand kindly on 
 the young man's arm. 
 
 " My husband was seated in the forest," she whispered, 
 "last evening, unperceived. He heard thee chanting to 
 thyself a Provencal ditty. I fancy he knew the sense of it." 
 
 Ardal laughed, and blushed still more deeply. " That was 
 hardly fair," he said. " But I thank thee for the warning. 
 The sounds rose unbidden to my lips, wedded as I have 
 heard them to entrancing music. Another might have 
 thought me giddy, but I trust thou wilt not do so." 
 
 " No, no. I am too wise," whispered Ita. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 Amada and Sorcha, having finished their frugal supper, had 
 kindled a fresh pine log in the round hearth. An oil-lamp, 
 suspended from the rafters overhead, supplied light sufficient 
 for Sorcha to ply her busy wheel, whilst the strapping Cacht 
 wielded a distaff in a corner near the door. Sorcha paused 
 occasionally to direct some remark to her grandmother, who 
 was trying, by the help of the red glow, to decipher the 
 writing on a bulky parchment. 
 
 Some one knocked loudly at the door. Sorcha rose and 
 opened it. " Is Amada within ? " asked a cheerful voice. 
 
 Sorcha recognised the young bishop to whom she had 
 been that morning indebted for the flower. 
 
 He was a man of short stature and peculiar appearance. 
 He wore no beard, and the Celtic tonsure on his forehead 
 was concealed by the manner in which his locks of auburn 
 hair were allowed to fall forward. They hung likewise down 
 his back, and this, combined with his smooth shaven face, 
 gave him at first a somewhat feminine appearance. But 
 feminine grace was altogether lacking. His figure was erect, 
 rather inclined to bend backwards, and the slight wriggle in 
 it was repeated in his mobile features, giving the impression 
 of eccentricity or of genius, not unmingled with affectation, 
 A bad habit, or possibly weakness of vision, made his blue 
 eyes appear half closed. 
 
 " Welcome," said Sorcha, motioning to him to enter. 
 
 Amada looked up. The stranger's hand was in hers. 
 
 " I could not be here without visiting thee," he said. 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMORE. 55 
 
 " Thy memory hath been dear to me aa the words of an 
 olden song. For thine eye still glittereth with a heaven- 
 borrowed splendour." 
 
 " Alas ! " said Amada, sadly ; " I have had many a severe 
 •trial since I last saw thee." 
 
 " I know, I know," said the young man, throwing himself 
 down on the foot of a couch. " But thou art like our native 
 holly, or rather, like the southern myrtle, green in spite of 
 the winter." 
 
 " This land must seem bleak to thee after Italy," said 
 Amada. "But I have heard that it is not the worst in the 
 world." 
 
 " There are more tempests around Caledonia," replied her 
 visitor. " This sea- washed island is fair. The gentle rains 
 array her turf in a brighter green, though the sun spreads 
 not his gold-tipped locks over so vivid an expanse of blue. 
 Besides," he continued, glancing at the polished walls, " I 
 have not, in all my wanderings, seen a dwelling so beautiful 
 as this, whose inhabitants, too, look like the spirits of the 
 wood." 
 
 " Thou wert ever a flatterer," said Amada, looking half 
 amused and half pleased. 
 
 A somewhat timid knock was now heard at the door, 
 Sorcha again opened it. 
 
 " A troop cometh," exclaimed the young bishop, as three 
 figures successively appeared. 
 
 First came Ita, her mild face glowing with friendly warmth; 
 then her husband, looking unusually cheerful, although his 
 person seemed almost too large for the little doorway ; last 
 of all, the young bishop Ardal, who looked rather timid, 
 whilst Ita embraced her female friends. 
 
 " This young man," she said to Amada, " claims an old 
 acquaintance with thee. He was often in this house when a 
 boy. Ardal, son of the royal Turlough, and foster-child to 
 Abbot O'Faolain." 
 
56 THE BEIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 " He is welcome," said Amada, a bright smile coming over 
 her face. " Bring more seats, Sorcha ; the place is narrow 
 for so many." 
 
 Fergus OTlannahan had started on seeing his colleague. 
 A cloud of displeasure crossed his face ; he pressed his upper 
 lip with the under one. This was, however, unnoticed, and 
 disappeared in the alacrity with which he rose to offer his 
 seat to Maidoc. 
 
 Sorcha returned from an inner chamber carrying three 
 chairs. The hand with which Ardal relieved her of two of 
 them trembled just a little. All were soon seated round the 
 fire, Fergus manoeuvring in a manner which placed Sorcha 
 betwixt Ita and himself. 
 
 " We thought not to find thee here," said Maidoc, who 
 could speak upon occasion. 
 
 " I am like a crow in a dove's nest,'' replied Fergus, 
 shifting about restlessly in his chair. 
 
 "Our sister Amada," continued Maidoc, "would fain 
 learn of your journey. We hoped to give her that pleasure 
 by bringing Ardal, but it seems we have been forestalled." 
 
 Maidoc seemed in a very communicative humour. His 
 whole broad person was aglow with contentment, and dif- 
 fused over the company the sort of pleasure felt by lovers of 
 nature when the cactus flowers. 
 
 "That was partly my object in coming," said Fergus. 
 " I know she will hear little on Declan's birthday, and there 
 is none more interested in the object of our mission." 
 
 " Then we may have a little council," said Ita ; " and speak 
 the more freely that we are all friends." 
 
 Amada had been meditating for a few minutes. She now 
 turned to Fergus and asked : " What impression does home 
 make on thee ? " 
 
 "Well," answered Fergus, tossing back his hair, "it is 
 not so grand as Eome or Aix. Here at Ardmore much is 
 changed. There is a new abbot." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 57 
 
 " He had just been appointed when we left," said Ardal, 
 keeping his eyes resolutely away from Sorcha. " It was too 
 soon then to foretell the effects of his rule." 
 
 Maidoc and Ita both looked grave. Ita's gravity was 
 a thing worth studying; it was so striking in its quiet 
 solemnity. 
 
 " Think you that we are changed for the better ?" asked 
 Amada. 
 
 " I should hardly say so," replied Ardal. " The warm- 
 hearted O'Faolairi, my foster-father, made the place livelier. 
 But he was not considered so learned as Ere O'ConailL" 
 
 Fergus's eyes twinkled. " Ere O'Conaill has a wife ! " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 There was a burst of merriment, in which Maidoc was 
 forced to join. His laugh was an unusual convulsion, and 
 looked as if it might shake him asunder. Ita's and Ardal's 
 were unrestrained, like the laugh of children. Ardal at length 
 recovered himself. 
 
 " It would be unfair to blame her altogether," he said. 
 " She must have some effect on him ; yet the driest winds 
 will not parch a soil that has water beneath its surface. 
 The roots of family pride have grown there for generations, 
 and they swallow up much of the sap that should go to 
 nourish the Christian graces." 
 
 " He takes the Scottish side in the dispute with Borne," 
 said Maidoc. 
 
 " True," replied Fergus. " But he treats much with 
 foreign prelates." 
 
 " You would not have him narrow-minded," said Maidoc. 
 " Conference with strangers cannot be hurtful." 
 
 "No; but he makes too much of them," said Fergus. 
 " Hast thou heard him boast about an Irish bishop as 
 he does about Gillachrist, about O'Toole, and about Gela- 
 sius, the very man who has displaced his wife's cousin at 
 Armagh ?" 
 
58 THE BKIDES OF ABDMOEE. 
 
 " For my part," said Amada, " I think the Lady Uailsi is 
 to blame. She is doubtless of high rank, but she should not 
 have come here if she did not mean to show courtesy." 
 
 "That is precisely our weakness," said Ardal. "Our 
 pastors have sought for great alliances. Since the time of 
 Patrick they have wielded a tremendous power, even without 
 that. Our chiefs sought to share that power; and both 
 together have been conspiring not to let it pass out of their 
 hands. The consequence is that we are divided into patri- 
 cians and plebeians, and the line of separation is as distinct 
 as it ever was in ancient Eome. Those who are not of 
 gentle birth by both parents are held to stand lower in the 
 social scale. It savours of heathendom." 
 
 Sorcha's heart warmed towards the speaker, who, though a 
 prince, perceived so clearly what had long been to her a 
 concealed source of trouble. 
 
 Ardal caught the influence of her look, though his eyes 
 were directed towards her grandmother. He gathered 
 courage to continue. 
 
 " The pride of our pastors," he said, " is no match for 
 that of the Eoman ones. Their armour will give way at the 
 first blow. They are alienating the sympathy of the very 
 men they have educated. The Eomans, on the contrary, 
 manage to keep any scholar on whom they have bestowed 
 real pains within the Church. We have come to such a pass 
 in Erin that people will welcome the sway of the Eoman 
 prelates as a deliverance from that of their own." 
 
 " There be too many of us who fold our souls in pride,'' said 
 Fergus. " The Lady Uailsi may be a palpable incarnation 
 of it, but it rioteth everywhere, as the Philistines rioted in 
 the land of Israel. It hath laid its hand on the ark of the 
 covenant." 
 
 " Is it not revolting ! " said Ardal. " Men glory in the pos- 
 session of a vice. Pride is the peculiar temptation of the 
 rich, as dishonesty is of the poor. It is a theft from our 
 
THE BBIDES OF AEDMOBE. 59 
 
 neighbours ; a theft of their right to respect. The rich have 
 no disposition towards material robbery, so they commit a 
 moral one." 
 
 Thus Amada's hearth became the scene of a discussion on 
 the momentous questions which were then agitating the 
 religious communities of Ireland; questions relating not 
 only to home discipline, but to the relations of the Celtic 
 bishops with those of other lands. The chief topic which 
 now perplexed men's minds was the claim of the Bishop of 
 Borne to the undisputed sovereignty of Christendom. It was 
 no new claim, the men of Erin well knew, and eighty years 
 previously it had been formulated by Pope Gregory with 
 special reference to them. Half a century had elapsed since 
 the Synod of Eathbresail, summoned under royal auspices, 
 had given a most reluctant consent to the subdivision of the 
 country into prelatic dioceses. The decrees of this Synod 
 had been received with such disfavour that thirty years later 
 a fresh attempt had been made by the Synod of Kells to 
 reduce them to practice. Those who loved the old ways now 
 felt that the flood was upon them. They could afford to 
 look on in silence while a Lanfranc or an Anselm conse- 
 crated bishops over the Danish communities of Limerick 
 and "Waterford; it was another thing altogether when the 
 Bornish Gelasius had forced his way into Armagh, and the 
 Pope's own legate, Christian, ruled not merely in Lismore, 
 but had the effrontery to claim jurisdiction over an indepen- 
 dent community like that of Ardmore. The Bomish claims 
 were, in truth, as old as the days of Patrick. For had not 
 Pope Celestine sent Palladius with orders to bring the 
 churches of the West to a state of canonical obedience ? 
 And had not Palladius come ? * Had he not sailed round 
 these shores ? and, though received with courtesy, had not 
 Patrick and the bishops of those days informed him that, 
 like the mother church of Brittany, they owned no head but 
 the crucified Redeemer ? They had felt His presence with 
 * Appendix, 
 
60 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 them. They had seen His finger guiding them as plainly as 
 the pagan emperor could possibly have discerned the flaming 
 cross in the sky. In vain did Palladius tell them that their 
 ways were different from those of Catholic Christendom. 
 Their teachers had not been sent by the Eoman bishops ; 
 why, then, should strangers reap what Patrick had sown ? 
 And the Irish had been strengthened in their resistance by 
 the remarkable success of their missionaries in Europe. 
 Two Celtic pastors had given material help to the great 
 Charles when he founded the University of Paris. Another 
 had assisted the Saxon Alfred with the same work at Oxford ; 
 and whether at Luxenil or at Bobbio, at Eegensburg or at 
 Seckingen, the communities founded by the Scots were dis- 
 tinguished above all others by the purity of their morals, 
 and the high standard of learning which they were able to 
 maintain. The story of Ardmore itself had been a story of 
 battle with Eomish pretensions, as well as with the darkness 
 of ignorance. 
 
 For some time after the departure of Palladius the Eoman 
 bishop had not troubled them. But things were now wearing 
 a different aspect. The native churches of Wales were one 
 by one giving in to the superior power of English prelates. 
 In Caledonia the backbone of resistance had been broken, not 
 only by the banishment of the Iona family beyond the Gram- 
 pians, but also by the overpowering influence of the Saxon 
 Queen Margaret. For the Eoman hierarchy were steadily ag- 
 gressive. They had brought to perfection the art of entering 
 into other men's labours ; and were more than suspected of 
 having re-written ancient records with the view of showing that 
 the early Celtic saint belonged to their order. And the Irish 
 camp was divided. Some men were for purity of doctrine and 
 independence, some for unity and Catholic submission. Little 
 did Amada and her friends dream that whilst they debated, a 
 sword was being sharpened which should cut the knot of their 
 difficulties in a manner as unexpected as it was disastrous 1 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The moonbeams streamed through the narrow window of a 
 hut close to the sanctuary of Declan. They seemed almost 
 like celestial visitants hardly welcomed, for they had not only 
 a thickness of ivy to pierce, but were mocked by the flicker of 
 a feeble rushlight hanging from the rafters of the low roof. 
 In a corner was a fresh bundle of straw covered by a single 
 yellow blanket. The only other furniture consisted of a 
 wooden tub, with a pitcber of water, a small deal table, and 
 two chairs. One of these latter was occupied by the form of 
 the young bishop, Ardal. 
 
 The rushlight was burning low, but he did not heed it. He 
 was bending forward, his clear, thoughtful brow supported in 
 his delicately- shaped hand. His dark woollen garment was 
 partly unfastened, and you could trace in the heaving of his 
 throat the symptoms of strong agitation. Of what was the 
 young bishop thinking ? 
 
 He was surely not present altogether in that narrow 
 chamber. There was that within him which, freeing itself 
 from the fetters of time and sense, could wander away to 
 regions which were nevertheless connected in a strange way 
 with the objects around him. It seemed but yesterday since 
 he had played in these pathless forests and climbed the tallest 
 pine-stems in search of eggs or squirrels, distinguished only 
 from his young companions by the scarlet inar and brass- 
 ringed hurling-stick which marked him out as the son of a 
 king. 
 
62 THE BEIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 For Ardal was the only child of Turlough O'Brien's mar- 
 riage -with Tualath, daughter of O'Faolain, prince of the 
 Deisi. Turlough had many sons by two former wives, and 
 after the disaster at Moin Mor, he had consented to his young 
 wife placing Ardal under the fostering care of his uncle, the 
 co-arb of Declan. Tualath did not long survive her husband's 
 misfortunes. She had renounced for Ardal all claim to the 
 succession of Munster, and had thus rescued him from a 
 horrible fate. Her husband recovered his throne within a 
 year, but his family seemed to have received the brand of 
 Cain. The few notices which contemporary chroniclers have 
 bestowed on them are enough to make the blood run cold. 
 Tadg's usurpation was the beginning of a series of mutual 
 blood-sheddings amongst the Ua-Brien which can only be 
 excused by the necessity under which Irish kings lay of pro- 
 tecting themselves from the fear of assassination. And as 
 the ard-righ Eoderick had signalised his accession to the 
 throne of Ireland by blinding some of his brothers, what 
 wonder if Turlough's son, Domnall O'Brien of Munster, 
 followed his liege's example ? It was well for Ardal, there- 
 fore, that he had been reared as one of the Ua-Faolain. Yet 
 was he allied in blood to the rightful sovereigns of England 
 through the marriage of his ancestor Donough with a sister 
 of the Saxon Harold. 
 
 And itr seemed but yesterday when he had first seen the 
 University of Lismore,* whither he had been sent to complete 
 his studies. He had ridden towards it more slowly than was 
 his wont, overpowered by a feeling which made its venerable 
 walls seem to his boyish fancy as solemn as those of the 
 Temple could possibly have done to an Israelitish pilgrim. 
 There was there no Shekinah, no visible presence of the 
 Deity, but not the less truly had a supernatural influence 
 been felt within them, hallowed as they were by having been 
 the dwelling of many heaven-sent teachers. Songs of praise 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BRIDES OP ABDMOBE. 63 
 
 ascended daily like incense by the grave of the sainted Car- 
 thagh ; the sound of pleading was never hushed ; and day- 
 light seldom broke without disturbing some scene of wrestling 
 with the Covenant Angel. Down the shining Blackwater had 
 hastened thousands, bearing, not in little silver tabernacles, 
 but in the more precious caskets of sanctified hearts, the 
 holy bread of a Living Word to far-off climes — to the hills of 
 Northumbria, to the islands of Caledonia — till the Tree of Life 
 seemed to grow on the earth of Erin, and to scatter its leaves 
 in no stinted measure for the healing of Europe. A two 
 years' familiarity with the life of Lismore had not dispelled 
 these visions. The holy traditions of bygone days were not 
 quite renewed in the habits of the youth who thronged to the 
 feet of its lectors ; still there were some amongst tbem who 
 felt the solemnity of their calling, and waited with trembling 
 humility until their lips should be unsealed and they should be 
 permitted to go forth and preach the unsearchable riches of 
 Christ. "God can save by few as well as by many," had Ardal 
 thought. " He has not quite forsaken Erin when a man like 
 Mael-Patrick is left to it. May I be one of a band of con- 
 querors ! May I win the victory over myself, and thus be 
 qualified to tread in the steps of Patrick and of Columba ! " 
 
 He had gone forth from Lismore prepared for the fight. 
 Crowds had waited on his ministrations, and the seal of 
 popularity had been added to the seals of a more real success. 
 The ancient lineage which was his family's boast had seemed 
 to him but a trifle in comparison. 
 
 Then in the first vigour of manhood a not less honourable 
 work had been made ready for his hand. 
 
 Irritated by a message from their would-be diocesan, the 
 twelve brethren who ruled over the family of Ardmore had 
 held a council. Some were for temporising, but Mael-Patrick 
 rebuked them. " Our real foe is disunion," he said. "When 
 the Milesian invader set his foot on our soil, what did he 
 find ? Three princes quarrelling for the sovereignty. Let us 
 
64 THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 stand shoulder to shoulder, and no foreign invader shall touch 
 our civil or our ecclesiastical rights. Men say that the best 
 policy in the leader of an army is to strike. Those who 
 stand merely on the defensive are lost. But we must proceed 
 with caution. We must know the situation. So before we 
 come to a decision let us send forth two of our ablest men — 
 young men — whose minds are pure from thought of evil. Let 
 them go to Eome, to Burgundy, to Provence. Let them tell 
 us how the Latin system works in cloister and in court. Let 
 them have speech of Greek priests if they can, and learn the 
 reason of the great schism. For, just as when you build a 
 house you must take into consideration all the conditions — 
 the way the winds will blow on it, the foundation on which it 
 will rest, and the state of society in the country — so you can- 
 not judge of an institution without looking all around it. By 
 its effects on prince, on chieftain, and on slave would I esti- 
 mate the value of any teaching which claims to be Divine." 
 
 Mael-Patrick's counsel was followed. The choice of the 
 twelve brethren fell on two of the young bishops subject to 
 their own jurisdiction — Ardal and Fergus. After much 
 earnest prayer these two were set aside and appointed to this 
 important duty. "Ye will be to us as feet and eyes," said 
 the Abbot O'Faolain. " "What ye see, write it on the tablets 
 of your hearts ; treasure it up, that it may be to us as a 
 library of knowledge. Presume not to tell our affairs to 
 strangers. Yours will be the task to observe; ours to judge." 
 
 This had been Ardal's second consecration. His mission 
 had lasted three years. It was now at an end. What a 
 variety of life and manners had been presented for his inspec- 
 tion ! He had striven to enter into other men's feelings so 
 as to probe the secret spring of their motives. He had been 
 a courtier at Paris and at Aix, a reverent pilgrim at the 
 shrine of Peter. Winds of strange doctrine had played 
 around him, but he had not felt them so keenly as the 
 breezes of worldly passion. This earth was more than a 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 65 
 
 place of preparation for heaven. And the heart of a man 
 beats very audibly beneath the robes of pastor or of priest. 
 
 The question now agitating him as he sat in his lonely 
 chamber was not the outcome of his spiritual labours. It 
 related to something more directly personal, even to that 
 vexed question of marriage which some even amongst the 
 Culdees were beginning to think unlawful. But Ardal's in- 
 tellect had long been satisfied. A man. of his warm tempera- 
 ment could not live on ethereal comforts. The balance of his 
 judgment had therefore dipped to the side of a reasonable 
 liberty. 
 
 He was fully persuaded in his own mind that matrimony 
 would not only be a check to his- roving fancy, but a material 
 help in his spiritual labours. There were saintly women in 
 Erin, he well knew. Had not many pastors' wives rivalled 
 their husbands in all good report ? The great Master had 
 sent out His disciples by two and two ; what was to hinder 
 the same plan being carried out with that difference of sex 
 which would render their union permanent, and make the 
 qualities of the one supplement those of the other ? 
 
 Ardal had looked narrowly into the workings of celibacy 
 It had given birth to some very beautiful plants, but he 
 questioned if they were of a fibre which would have with- 
 stood the small frictions of daily domestic life. Wickedness 
 flourished in the world around them, quite unchecked by 
 their touching simplicity. Indeed, it seemed as if some men 
 made the very existence of these holy anchorites an excuse 
 for their own continuance in wrong-doing. The doctrine of 
 vicarious merit was gaining ground everywhere. Ardal had 
 seen in southern climes men whom he would have been proud to 
 claim as countrymen, men on whose countenances the peace 
 of God had set its visible seal. But they formed no part of 
 the great world ; they were bound to it by none of those 
 strong temporal cords which twine into the very roots of our 
 being. Knights and ladies looked on them only to think 
 
 6 
 
66 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 that they were formed of other flesh. Wicked men sought 
 the benefit of their prayers, and trusted to the ease with 
 which they could obtain this. The burden of intercession 
 for human iniquity would surely prove too heavy for a few 
 poor mortal lips. 
 
 There were some, again, to whom the utmost stretch of 
 Ardal's charity could not aesign the merit of being better 
 than worldlings. What did celibacy do for them ? It only 
 marked them out as partakers of an office to which they had 
 been consecrated with solemn rites. Society esteemed them 
 as they deserved. Ardal was well aware that there might be 
 a few black sheep amongst the Scottish brethren. But these 
 must at least hide their natural colour. They had not the 
 unblushing effrontery of some highly-placed Italian eccle- 
 siastics, nor were they invested with such awful authority. 
 
 Ardal was very susceptible to female influence. He had 
 been exposed to its utmost power at the Provencal court. 
 He had, in truth, been glad to seek safety in the austere 
 solitude of Citeaux. He wondered with what eyes the ladies 
 had looked on him. He was no knight, although of princely 
 blood, and the opinions of these dark-eyed southerners had 
 been divided as to his real status. Was he a priest, or was 
 he not one ? No gentleman of France or of Italy would 
 have given him his daughter whilst there was a doubt on the 
 subject; yet fair maidens had blushed when he looked at 
 them. He had summoned all his stoicism to make him bear 
 their glances, for he had resolved to look elsewhere for a 
 helpmeet ; to choose a daughter of the Green Isle, who would 
 not think it strange that he wooed her. He had not felt at 
 liberty to meditate on the subject till his return to Erin. 
 
 Ardal would not have allowed that he was superstitious ; 
 but a presentiment had laid hold of him that he would meet 
 his fate at Ardmore. He came there with eyes wide open, 
 and a heart ready to receive the first impression of love. 
 
 He did not need to wait for it. On the first night of his 
 
THE BKIDES OP AEDMOKE. 67 
 
 arrival lie was introduced to the abbot's family. The Lady 
 Uailsi was particularly gracious ; and there is something 
 very charming in the condescension of a proud woman. 
 Ardal was not blinded by it, but he could not help being 
 struck by the perfections of her daughter. Mor Ni-Conaill 
 was not lovely, but she was elegant, and her face had a look 
 of inquiring intelligence that gave to it an expression of 
 child-like simplicity. She knew that she was talented, and 
 she was better without the mock-humility which might have 
 made her affect to stand on the level of others. She had a 
 round face, with blue, earnest eyes that looked straight at 
 you, and seemed in their deep sincerity to plead for fair 
 dealing. Amy little trace of haughtiness about her was evi- 
 dently a parasitic growth, which would fade and drop off 
 under a more healthy influence than her mother's. 
 
 Thus Ardal had thought seriously of her. There was a 
 frigidity about the family, but he trusted to the sunshine of 
 his own sociability to thaw it. There was something flatter- 
 ing to his vanity in the idea that he might' aspire where 
 others did not even venture to contemplate, and a child of 
 ""the Cinell Conaill and the Ua-Bresail would indeed be a 
 fitting match for one of the Ua-Brian. 
 
 But a fairer vision soon passed before him. Looking from 
 a window of the Bound Tower in the early morning, he had 
 discerned a wondrous picture on the shining turf beneath. 
 The rosy hues of sunrise were on the dark expanse of forest, 
 on the gleaming billows, and on the little ivy-covered cottage 
 which he had once revered as Mael-Patrick's dwelling. From 
 the cottage door issued a form of exquisite loveliness — a 
 young girl, robed in greenish-red tartan, with a cluster of 
 dark brown looks falling on her shoulders, a finely-moulded 
 little head, and features so wondrously chiselled that they 
 would have won for their owner the first place at a Provencal 
 tournament. Ardal could not withdraw his eyes from her. 
 She seemed a child of nature ; the hue of her robe harmonised 
 
68 THE BBIDES OP ABDMOBE. 
 
 bo well with the blush of the landscape ; and yet there was 
 something that spoke of refinement in her elastic step, 
 as if the beauty of intellect had robed itself in the beauty 
 of humanity. The snowdrop of the forest is often fairer than 
 the snowdrop of the palace garden, and it awakens in us a 
 more devout thankfulness for the lavishness of the Creator's 
 gifts. Here, untouched by the dust of worldliness, unscorched 
 by the sunbeams of flattery, bloomed a flower as delicate as 
 any that could be culled from the parterres of princes. 
 
 Ardal never forgot that moment, and his heart throbbed 
 with an intensity of eagerness when he heard that the beauti- 
 ful maiden was indeed Mael-Patrick's daughter, the Sorcha 
 whom he remembered as a chubby child at her father's knee. 
 He rejoiced that his intimacy with Mor had gone no further, 
 and he waited impatiently till the descending sun gave token 
 that the hours of study would be over. Then he sought 
 Maidoc's cell. 
 
 He had two objects in doing so : one was to ask for 
 counsel as to his public line of action, the other to seek a 
 more particular introduction to Sorcha. He did not dis- 
 tinctly avow the latter ; but Ita's eyes were quick to notice 
 the signs of deep feeling, and she invited him to accompany 
 her to the cottage with a frank delicacy which went to his 
 heart. She understood him, he saw ; for young love is a 
 plant which shoots best when shaded from the fierce rays of 
 publicity. It must be touched with a respectful tenderness, 
 for it will not bear a curious finger at its root. Ardal 
 trembled as he accompanied his friends to the cottage. He 
 could have faced ten thousand auditors ; how was this ? 
 Surely he must be losing strength 1 Was his the same form 
 that had ridden so unweariedly over thousands of miles ? He 
 had stood in the presence of princes and of scholars, why 
 should he shrink from encountering a pair of brown eyes ? 
 
 He scarcely saw the smile with which Sorcha greeted him. 
 He was only conscious of a presence — disagreeably conscious, 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 69 
 
 too — that there were adverse influences in the room. For 
 the first time he felt that he hated. Another form was by 
 Borcha's side, other lips were daring to whisper in her ear. 
 And she seemed pleased; she laughed. Ardal felt miserable. 
 That exquisite beauty had dawned on his vision in order to 
 madden him. The devil had him now. Whom did he hate ? 
 His own colleague, the sharer of his mission, the man who 
 had been consecrated with him to the same service. There 
 he sat, bold, confident, leaning backwards on his chair, look- 
 ing at Sorcha with the air of an accepted lover. What 
 chance had Ardal by the side of Fergus ? 
 
 For Fergus was irresistibly charming. Ardal had seen it 
 when moving with him in far other scenes. He had marked 
 the proudest ladies of Provence simper at his compliments 
 — flatteries, Ardal would have called them — but there was 
 always an element of truth in them which saved them from 
 the imputation. Ardal had heard Fergus's praises every- 
 where — amongst the common people, amongst the votaries of 
 learning, amongst the giddy and the thoughtless, and most 
 of all from the lips of women. His sermons were heavenly ; 
 they made men fancy themselves already in Paradise. He 
 had an insinuating skill which enabled him to play on every 
 fibre of the human heart. And the hearts which he touched 
 were as harps which sounded forth his praises. Ardal had 
 tried to analyse his companion's mind, but it was a task 
 which baffled him. There was a deep spirituality in it that 
 was distinctly perceptible in his sermons ; there was an 
 appreciation of solemn truths which often made him impres- 
 sively grand. But in the lonely hours which they had spent 
 together, Ardal had missed the refreshment of sympathetic 
 converse. Fergus was delightfully confidential on any sub- 
 ject that did not touch too closely on the inner life. Ardal 
 had sometimes been startled to see that any remark about 
 their common responsibilities would make his companion 
 grave and melancholy. Fergus seemed to begin his study 
 
70 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOBE. 
 
 of all subjects from the picturesque side. Eeligion ? Yes, even 
 religion. But Ardal suppressed the uncharitable thought 
 that Fergus's conception of this was solely artistic. No man 
 could be hypocritical enough to preach as he did without 
 having felt its power. 
 
 But where was charity, when a rival was seated beside 
 Sorcha ? Ardal was ashamed of his own thoughts. Fergus's 
 genius appeared to his colleague to be a doubtful quantity. 
 Had he not often been applauded for his clever appropriation 
 of the thoughts of others ? Had he not even made use of 
 Ardal's own ? No mind can be entirely original. The 
 greatest ones must have the most power of assimilation, but 
 one ought at least to put such borrowed thoughts in a new 
 dress. Whole passages of the fathers came unchanged from 
 Fergus's lips. Not in Erin — there the ancient writings were 
 too much studied — but in France and in Italy, where the 
 audience had no sprinkling of scholars. And the compli- 
 ments which this sort of talent evoked were sometimes 
 received with a very complacent smile. Was this self- 
 deception ? Ardal devoutly hoped that it was. He could 
 excuse Fergus the less for it because he had great powers of 
 his own. Fergus had an off-hand way of speaking which was 
 not exactly falsehood, but led people to give him credit for 
 knowing much more than he did. Only a very close and pro- 
 longed intimacy could have given Ardal opportunities for 
 finding this out. 
 
 And was Fergus always to be the most favoured ? Was he, 
 with little anxiety and trouble to himself, to receive a meed 
 of popularity equal to Ardal's own, and at the same time to 
 rob him of the sweetest flower of love ? Ardal did not care 
 for popularity, but he did value influence. He had a con- 
 sciousness that he would give as good an account of that 
 influence as Fergus would do. The use Fergus made of his 
 talents seemed to have a recoil of blessing on himself. The 
 worker was never lost sight of in the results of his work. 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE; 7f 
 
 It was very uncharitable in Ardal to cherish these feelings 
 at such a moment. But he had given way to Fergus in 
 many things. . It had become, in fact, a habit with him to 
 remain in the background when one speaker would suffice. 
 But too much was now being asked of him>. Did Fergus 
 suspect the reason of his visit ? His look of triumph had 
 seemed to imply this. Should Ardal resolve to give up 
 thoughts of Sorcha ? 
 
 He had been able to think all this whilst taking part in the 
 conversation. For man is a complex animal. He can speak 
 calmly of things — ay, of deep things — when his emotions 
 are at war in the little sanctuary within. And Sorcha gave 
 him once a look — it was when he spoke of family pride — which 
 made him almost lose his self-possession.. He could fancy 
 himself standing beside the forbidden tree in Eden ; and 
 just as he had resolved to turn away without tasting, an 
 apple had fallen unbidden on his lips. Its delicious taste 
 would never be forgotten. It made him long for more. 
 
 He left the cottage in a state of extreme misery. Should 
 he yield to his love, or should he not yield ? Sorcha would 
 not be won without a battle, a battle with himself as well as 
 with his rival. But he must not become unworthy of her by 
 cherishing bad feelings. 
 
 Strange, that two nights ago he had made this a subject of 
 deliberation. He had acted with no impulse when under 
 Uailsi's roof. The match with Mor commended itself to his 
 judgment. He had weighed well every aspect of it. Now the 
 rush of emotion came with a force which almost excluded 
 thought. He retired to his humble cell, not to meditate, 
 but to pray. 
 
 It is very hard to submit to the Divine will when our own 
 disagrees with it. The designs of Providence are mercifully 
 hidden from us ; but our uncertainty about the future makes 
 us on the whole less rebellious. So it was with Ardal. He 
 groaned about the possibility of losing Sorcha. And for a 
 
72 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 long time his blood was too feverish for his thoughts to settle 
 into words. He did not know even if words were permissible. 
 At last a light dawned on him. It was as if an angel had 
 carried it. The lantern which showed him something was 
 surely not lit on earth. And Ardal fell on his knees. 
 
 He had now a warrant for praying. He had a sudden con- 
 viction that Fergus could not possibly love Sorcha as he did. 
 His nature was by far too shallow. Ardal knew not the 
 language of gallantry. That tongue, unspoken in Erin, had 
 come to Fergus when in Provence, as melody comes to a bird. 
 Sorcha might, perhaps, listen to it. Then Ardal must seek 
 strength to resign himself, but till then he would not give up 
 hope. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Amada was in high spirits after her visitors had departed. 
 Sorcha felt rather ashamed of her discontent. They had both 
 spent a delightful evening. What did the coolness of some 
 people matter when they were able to enjoy the society of 
 sympathising friends ? "I can't be such an old, useless 
 creature after all," remarked Amada. " No less than three 
 bishops 1 and they not the meanest for learning ! But it 
 was not me alone." And her aged face assumed a wonderful 
 look of beauty as it rippled over in sunny laughter. Her 
 eyes literally sparkled with merriment. 
 
 Even Sorcha, though well accustomed to her grandmother's 
 ways, could not help staring in much surprise. 
 
 " Thou art like a child's ball," she said ; " one moment it 
 is on the ground, the next leaping up to the sky. It is plea- 
 sant, though, to have people talking to us as if we were rational 
 beings." 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked Amada, pausing in the midst of her 
 laugh, and fixing on her grand-daughter a very curious gaze. 
 " What was Fergus saying to thee, might I ask, round in 
 that corner ? " 
 
 "Nothing, grandmother," replied Sorcha, colouring slightly, 
 whilst her voice sank just a little. 
 
 " We shall pluck rosemary for thee in spring, child," said 
 Amada. " Give me my lamp now, and pleasant dreams." 
 
 She retired into one of the small apartments which jutted 
 out like wings on either side of the cottage, leaving her grand- 
 
74 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 daughter in a state of some bewilderment. Sorcha bad more 
 than once heard quiet jokes about the power of her own 
 attractions from Maidoc and Ita, but this was tbe first time 
 that any such hint had dropped from her grandmother's lips. 
 Could it possibly be true ? Sorcha was too simple-minded, 
 and had too lowly an opinion of herself, for the idea to have 
 easily found entrance. It was indeed a very flattering one. 
 Her father's reputation had been as great as Fergus's was ever 
 likely to become. But he had lived in comparative obscurity 1 , 
 and the respect which people had felt for him was perhaps 
 too deep to be readily expressed to her. Fergus's genius was 
 of another kind. It was brilliant, dazzling ; it was as the 
 effulgence of a comet, which, spreading over great part of the 
 sky, attracts the gaze of men, who see in its light a deeper 
 significance than in that of the more steadily-shining stars. 
 Fergus's praise was on every tongue. He was not only 
 magnificent in the pulpit, he was the cynosure of all eyes in 
 social life, his wit being supported by a warmth of manner 
 that could only spring from real and deep sympathies. That 
 such a man should bend in homage before her seemed to 
 Sorcha impossible. Yet had not her grandmother said it ? 
 Sorcha reflected on the events of that night. Fergus had not 
 come there with Maidoc ; no, he had expected to find her and 
 her grandmother alone. And was it not his hand that had 
 plucked for her the beautiful lily ? Sorcha was weak 
 enough to rise from her couch and step round the prostrate 
 form of Cacht, who lay amongst the rushes, to have another 
 look at the lily. She wished to make sure that it was not all 
 a dream. Then she went to sleep, lulled by hopes that were 
 delicious in their strangeness. 
 
 She awoke with the sense that some sort of change had 
 come over her. It required an effort to recall what the 
 change exactly was. Sorcha was surprised at the glow of 
 pleasure she had felt. Somehow or other things did not seem 
 quite the same when viewed in daylight. The magic of 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMORE. 75 
 
 Fergus's presence was gone, and she thought of him with 
 admiration, it is true, but without any strong wish for the 
 fulfilment of her grandmother's words. Why was this ? 
 Sorcha could give no account of it. She thought it right, in 
 so important a matter, to subject herself to a rigid examina- 
 tion. Fergus was indeed eminent. Wiser heads than hers 
 agreed to think him so. He was engaged in the noblest of 
 all callings ; and he was fitted for it both by his irreproach- 
 able character and by the variety of the gifts which Provi- 
 dence had showered on him. Her own ears had been ravished 
 by his burning eloquence. Women worship power, and what 
 power can be equal to that of the orator, before whom 
 multitudes of men bow their heads like so many reeds ? 
 Why did she not care more to have that priceless jewel 
 within her grasp ? Its possession would make her grand- 
 mother's life so happy. Sorcha sighed. Had she discerned 
 a flaw in the diamond ? 
 
 No, reader, its lustre was too great to allow of her seeing 
 one. And she did not even suspect the presence of any. 
 She took blame to herself for her want of appreciation. She 
 felt as if she were a cracked mirror which cannot help showing 
 distorted images. Sorcha was a hero-worshipper, but her 
 hero must be modelled after her own taste. Her conception 
 of manliness was not exactly Fergus. Was there any one 
 who fulfilled it ? Yes, there was, but he was not for her. 
 Would she throw away a betrothal ring because of the gems 
 in King Roderick's crown ? 
 
 The glow of sunrise had hardly died away when, after 
 attending morning prayers in the church, she clambered to 
 the summit of the rath and hastened down an outside ladder 
 in quest of her usual supply of milk. She was returning 
 with it, and looking at the glitter of the dewdrops on the 
 unshorn turf, when a figure advanced to her from beneath a 
 tree. Sorcha started ; her fingers could scarcely retain their 
 hold of the milk-can. In a moment Fergus was beside her, 
 
76 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 touching her so closely as to make the colour rush to her 
 face. He looked at her with a peculiar tenderness. 
 
 " Let me take that from thy hand," he said. 
 
 Sorcha resigned her can and walked by Fergus's side to- 
 wards the great gate of the rath. 
 
 " Thou hast a step like Venus," he said, " when she van- 
 ished from her perplexed son. Thy ringlets, too, scatter 
 ambrosial fragrance on the breeze." 
 
 " I have no wish to resemble a heathen goddess," replied 
 Sorcha, turning her dark liquid eyes full on the speaker, as 
 if to read into the depths of his soul. But the earnest gaze 
 which she encountered made her look to the ground. 
 
 " Thou art early abroad," she remarked. 
 
 " Yea," replied her companion. " I love to see the sun on 
 his first awaking, and the flowers opening their eyes, whether 
 beneath a veil of grass or of broidered linen." 
 
 They had now reached the cottage door. " I cannot ask 
 thee to break thy fast with us," said Sorcha, " as we take our 
 first meal in my grandmother's chamber." 
 
 Fergus looked disappointed. " The abbot was kind enough 
 to ask me," he said. " Yet I would rather have been with 
 you. What doest thou all the day ? " 
 
 " I shall be in the pharmacy, preparing medicine," replied 
 Sorcha. " At ten or eleven I visit sick people when it is my 
 turn to do so. At noon I come back for dinner, and I have 
 to see that my grandmother's is taken to her first. I dine, 
 of course, in the refectory." 
 
 " And after noon ? " asked Fergus. 
 
 "I am generally in Declan's cell, reading or copying," 
 replied Sorcha. " Sometimes I pay visits after four o'clock ; 
 sometimes visitors come to us." 
 
 " Is home, then, bright with thy presence at eve ? " asked 
 Fergus. 
 
 "I then remain with my grandmother," replied Sorcha,' 
 " unless there is some special servioe in the church." 
 
THE BRIDES OP ABDMOKE. 77 
 
 " Wilt thou not come with me on the river ? " asked 
 Fergus. " I have a sweet little coracle, which will be to thee i 
 as the green cup is to the lily." 
 
 " Will any one accompany us ? " asked Sorcha. 
 " No one whom I know of,'' answered Fergus. "We can 
 glide down ere darkness falls on the forest." 
 
 Sorcha meditated for a moment. There could be nothing 
 wrong in entrusting herself to Fergus's guidance, yet some- 
 how she did not like it. Such a proceeding, even when the 
 parties were betrothed, was, to say the least, unusual. 
 " I will think of it," she replied. 
 
 Fergus took her hand. He fixed his blue eyes on her very 
 earnestly. " I dreamed last night," he said, " that I was 
 being wafted along the water by an angel, and it seemed as 
 if the vision might become true." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Sorcha, disengaging her hand not 
 without a struggle. She raised the latch of the door. 
 
 " I shall see thee soon," said Fergus, as she disappeared 
 with a graceful curtsey. 
 
 Sorcha was not quite pleased. She had sometimes imagined 
 that she would like a lover, but hardly one so pressing as 
 this one. A few honeyed words could not repay her for the 
 loss of her free choice. Fergus had tried to make her decide 
 on the instant that she would break through all rules of 
 conventional propriety for the sake of spending an hour or 
 two alone with him. Was this not a foretaste of what would 
 happen when she was away in the boat ? Would he not take 
 advantage of her weakmindedness to make her utter some 
 irrevocable vow ? Her very going with him would be irre- 
 vocable in the world's eyes. She might as well string half 
 a coin round her neck in token of her betrothal. 
 
 She lost no time in consulting her grandmother. Amada 
 listened patiently, and in a tone of eager interest inquired, 
 " Why wilt thou not go ? " 
 
 " I am not his spouse," replied Sorcha. " Even if I were, 
 
78 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 is it customary ? Wouldst thou have done so when thou 
 wert my age ? " 
 
 "That is "no fair question," replied Amada. "I cannot 
 say what I would have done had I been courted by a man 
 like Fergus. If it were any one else I would say no at 
 once. But he is a bishop ; thou canst go where thou wilt 
 with him. It would be a pity to lose him for that." 
 
 Sorcha looked thoughtful. Her grandmother might be 
 right from one point of view ; but she had not made up her 
 mind about taking Fergus, and she instinctively shrank from 
 committing herself in an irretrievable way. The more she 
 tried to realise what it would be, the more did she feel that 
 she owed something to her own self-respect. 
 
 In the meantime other eyes had not been indifferent to her 
 movements. She had been watched. Ardal had, in fact, 
 clambered up the steep ladders in the interior of the Eound 
 Tower a little before sunrise, and, looking out from a window," 
 had lost not a detail of her doings. He had seen the bold 
 frankness with which Fergus had accosted her ; he had ob- 
 • served her downcast eyes, and her sudden glance of critical 
 inquiry had been transfused by his heated fancy into one of 
 trustful affection. He saw Fergus hold her hand for several 
 minutes at the cottage door ; he saw that he was pleading — 
 pleading for what ? A wild storm arose in Ardal's heart. 
 He crumpled in his hands the precious parchment which had 
 cost him days of labour, and which he had meant to deposit 
 in a box on one of the shelves of the tower. He had seen 
 Fergus chatting familiarly with other women ; but that was 
 in a foreign land, in circumstances when both parties must 
 have been well aware that it could issue in nothing. And to 
 none of them had he spoken exactly as he was now doing to 
 Sorcha. What had given him this advantage ? Oh for a 
 tithe of such boldness ! 
 
 Ardal's first impulse was to hasten down and waylay Sorcha 
 in her walk towards the college pharmacy. He wished to 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 79 
 
 hear his fate from her own lips. But what presumption ! 
 He had only been introduced to her on the previous night ; 
 Fergus had had a few days' start of him. But Fergus seemed 
 to have been previously intimate with some of her rela- 
 tives, and had no doubt been favoured by them. Some 
 men, moreover, had a faculty of putting their feelings into 
 words. He would only make a fool of himself if he tried 
 to imitate them. The reverence with which he regarded 
 Sorcha made it impossible for him to- step rashly into her 
 presence. 
 
 Was all hope, then, gone ? Ardal feared so. At the same 
 time, the struggle need not be given up. He could only con- 
 sider himself quite defeated when Sorcha showed herself 
 fairly beyond his reach. He would watch her more narrowly 
 than ever ; and if he saw that she cared for his rival, he 
 would submit. But she must appear to do so with her whole 
 heart before Ardal could be satisfied. 
 
 He stepped down to the foot of the tower. He lingered in 
 the shadow of the church with the intention of speaking a 
 friendly word to her on her passage to the pharmacy. He 
 tried to picture to himself her beautiful eyes glancing up at 
 him just as they had done last night, and as he was sure 
 they had done also to Fergus that morning. He needed 
 such an encouragement. It might, if it came, make the 
 task of renunciation more difficult ; but the momentary 
 pleasure would be worth all the prospect of future suffering. 
 But what if she would not look at him ? What if she were 
 annoyed ? At length she came out of the cottage, carrying a 
 small basket. 
 
 Ardal turned from his apparent study of a rude sculpture 
 commemorating the conversion of his own ancestors. He 
 stepped a few paces forward, hesitating. 
 
 Just then Sorcha gave a faint smile, which was not for 
 him. Another form issued from behind the great yew tree 
 which stood in front of the abbot's dwelling. Fergus stepped 
 
80 THE BKTDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 along the smooth turf, carrying a bunch of violets. Ardal 
 could hear what he said : — 
 
 " I have gathered these for thee, or rather for thy grand- 
 mother. Shall I take them to her whilst thou art in the 
 kitchen ? "We may find more gorgeous flowers this after- 
 noon. Thou thyself wilt be a blossom bright among thou- 
 sands.'' 
 
 " They will be a joy to my grandmother," replied Sorcha. 
 " Good morning." 
 
 She bowed gracefully, and disappeared within the door of 
 the pharmacy. Fergus stood looking after her for a moment. 
 Then he turned towards the cottage, humming a well-known 
 Provencal air — the same, in fact, which Maidoc had surprised 
 on Ardal's lips. It ran thus : — 
 
 " Eouesignoau que cantes sans cesso, 
 
 Dins moun jardin, 
 Vai veire ma bello mestresso 
 
 De bouen matin ; 
 Vai, digo li, dins toun lengagi 
 
 Tant amourous, 
 Que siou un bargie doou villagi 
 
 Ben malhurous. 
 
 " Digo-li que toujour souspiri ; 
 
 Mai se voou ben, 
 Mougras qu'a touto houro n'en plouri 
 
 Serai counten. 
 Mespresi tout : bouenhur, richesso, 
 
 Scieneo, favour ; 
 Moun soulet ben es la tendresso. 
 
 De seis amour. 
 
 " Erne ta vouas tendro et poulido 
 
 Et toun dous chant, 
 Se ma mestresso es endourmido 
 
 Canto li plan ; 
 Du'n ton que la tendresso esvillo 
 
 Seuso estre fouar, 
 Noun toques gaire soun oourillo 
 
 Mai ben soun couar." 
 
 Sorcha was soon busy in her work of compounding. It 
 was a responsible duty, for the sick and the suffering over a 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE. 
 
 81 
 
 large extent of country looked to the college pharmacy for 
 help. The stores on its shelves were by no means of a 
 despicable kind. They included all the remedies known to 
 Hippocrates, and therefore almost all which were used by our 
 grandfathers. There were barley-meal and rice-^our for 
 fever potions, oxide of zinc for feeble eyes, with cantharides, 
 mustard, foxglove, bryony, iris, wild celery, and other herbs, 
 whose virtues could only be extracted by subtle processes.- 
 All Sorcha's faculties, bodily and mental, were engrossed in 
 the work of preparation. She knew that the welfare of some 
 fellow-creature depended on her dexterity. 
 
 There was a pause shortly before the dinner-hour. Sorcha 
 slipped quietly up to Ita. 
 
 "There is something I wish to ask of thee," she whispered. 
 Her eyes were downcast, and there was a tell-tale colour on 
 her cheek. 
 
 "What is it, child?" said the kind matron, passing her 
 arm round the girl's waist. 
 
 " Thinkest thou it would be quite right," stammered Sorcha, 
 " for me to go on the river this afternoon ? Fergus has 
 asked me to do so." 
 
 Sorcha did not see the anxious look which came, like a 
 cloud, over her friend's beaming face. She did, however, 
 notice a significant ring in the voice. 
 
 " With him alone ? " asked Ita. " Has he asked no one 
 to accompany thee ? " 
 
 " I believe not," replied Sorcha. " I cannot tell why he 
 asks me, but my grandmother would fain have me go." 
 
 " I should advise thee otherwise," said Ita. " Thou 
 couldst hardly do so if thou wert betrothed, and I suppose 
 thou art not so ? " 
 
 " No," replied Sorcha, pressing her friend's hand, but not 
 daring to look up. " I thank thee for thy candour." 
 
 She went into the refectory hall. There were two large 
 dining apartments, one of "which was reserved for the families 
 
 7 
 
82 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 
 
 of the resident bishops and visitors. Sorcha had a right to 
 sit there, but she did not like the constraint which governed 
 everything said or done in the abbot's presence. She pre- 
 ferred to share a humbler meal in the larger refectory, where 
 four tables gave accommodation to a number of young boys 
 and to the under teachers. A few of the bishops, with their 
 wives, had a similar taste, and amongst these were Maidoc 
 and Ita. 
 
 Sorcha, who always sat next her friends, noticed that they 
 looked at her with peculiar gravity. She felt uncomfortable. 
 Did they disapprove of her conduct in entertaining any 
 thought of the proposed excursion, or was it perhaps that 
 they saw her approaching a momentous crisis in her life ? 
 Sorcha was quite, at home amongst the boys, who were 
 arranged in classes of twelve. It was a pleasant sight to 
 watch their fresh young faces, and she had become acquainted 
 with many things which never reached the lectors' ears. 
 But to-day it seemed as if they were nowhere. She was too 
 ill at ease to enjoy anything. 
 
 On issuing from the refectory, she encountered Mor. That 
 young lady had always been friendly to her ; and though her 
 parents had encouraged a hurtful rivalry, there was still a 
 kind of comradeship between the two girls, which sprang 
 from their fresh and sincere natures. Mor was looking un- 
 usually cheerful. 
 
 " Why dost thou not dine with us ? " she said. " It has 
 been dull sometimes, but we have had quite a treat to-day. 
 The conversation was brilliant. Fergus knoweth well how 
 to interest every one. I never spent such a delightful hour 
 in my life. I wish much that thou shouldst have the same 
 pleasure. Wilt thou not come to-morrow ? " 
 
 Sorcha knew that Mor was speaking truth. For the 
 abbot's daughter was not quite in harmony with her mother. 
 Uailsi prided herself on the official position of her husband 
 no less than on the princely blood which ran in her veins. 
 
THE BRIDES OP AKDMOEE. 88 
 
 It would have been a hopeless task to persuade her that she 
 was similarly constituted to the herd of common mortals. 
 The spirit of Christianity has overturned many things ; but 
 in that age it had hardly begun to fight against aristocratic 
 privileges. The very colour of the fluid that issued from the 
 veins of princes and nobles seemed of a peculiar hue ; they 
 bore the same relation to the rest of their fellow-men as the 
 gold of their coronets to the iron of the plough. Keligion 
 was, in Uailsi's eyes, so much the more valuable that it 
 taught men to know their place. 
 
 Mor had been initiated into all this ; but somehow it did 
 not make her perfectly happy. She was the image of her 
 mother in many things — in personal appearance, in natural 
 gifts, and in aptitude for learning. It may be doubted if her 
 heart were really warmer ; but there had dawned on it a 
 something which was not in keeping with the rest of its 
 adjustments; a ray of that light, in short, which is apt to 
 show the dust in our moral atmosphere. A quick throb of 
 life had passed through her ; a seed had sprouted which had 
 been sown by no earthly hand. It grew into a plant, tender 
 indeed, but eager in its striving after sunlight. It was this 
 that made her so child-like, even in her acquired haughti- 
 ness ; it added to her nature a sensitive element which her 
 mother lacked ; she could enter into other people's feelings 
 in a way that superficial observers would not have given her 
 credit for. Mor became dissatisfied with some of her sur- 
 roundings. Why could she not enjoy free converse with the 
 young of her own sex ? Pride is a sorry substitute for sym- 
 pathy, and Mor fancied that her life would have been happier 
 had she been less highly born. Her father might well be 
 proud of her. Her natural talents had been diligently culti- 
 vated ; she accomplished with ease any literary or feminine 
 task. His heart was gladdened above all by her display of 
 the Christian graces. She would do no dishonour to her 
 aucestry, princely or clerical. For Mor strove to still her 
 
84 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEB. 
 
 heart-hunger by abounding in all good works. She was 
 incessant in her visiting of the poor. None was so energetic 
 as she in the laboratory, none so skilful in ministering at a 
 sick bed. The abbot pointed to her with pride as the pattern 
 maiden of.the family. There was a ring of complaisance 
 in his voice when he preached from the text, " That our 
 daughters may be as corner-stones, polished after the simili- 
 tude of a palace." 
 
 But Mor had very penetrating eyes. She had at length dis- 
 cerned that her mother was on no good footing with the 
 bishops' wives. "Why this should be was not at first apparent, 
 but nevertheless it was so. Mor began to suspect that high 
 birth was not so much to be coveted. She had heard of happy 
 gatherings where she was not present ; she had even marked 
 the shadow of constraint gather over faces that had looked 
 bright just before she approached them. People threw some- 
 thing formal into their mode of addressing her, and Mor 
 fancied herself not of the family, though in it. She watched 
 her parents' conduct; she compared it with that of others. 
 Did the consciousness of their superiority chill people ? 
 Maidoc was as learned as her father ; he was reserved and 
 taciturn ; yet a laugh was never hushed on account of him. 
 She saw a warmth in the mutual glances of others which was 
 never turned on herself. 
 
 Mor was much given to meditation. It was not long 
 before the whole state of the case revealed itself. She saw 
 that her father's teachings were not quite at one with her 
 mother's. And a course of patient observation made her 
 aware that the abbot's hospitable intentions were often 
 thwarted ; that he, in fact, had long ago resigned much of his 
 liberty in deference to his wife's tastes. Mor threw the small 
 weight of her influence into the balance whenever there 
 was a discussion between her parents ; but her mother's foot 
 was too heavy in the opposite scale. The abbot's wife was vir 
 disputably the head of the house. She would, indeed, have 
 
THE BKIDES OF ABDMOBE. 85 
 
 resented any one affirming this. She yielded to her husband 
 all outward honour ; but both took it as a matter of course 
 that their dignity must be maintained; Uailsi being the 
 natural judge of the means to accomplish this. Mor dis- 
 covered that her mother was proceeding on a wrong principle. 
 Not thus had the followers of Patrick changed the face of 
 their island world. " Before honour is humility," a wise king 
 had once said, and Mor strongly suspected that her father's 
 rule would have had a surer foundation if it had been reared 
 on the fact that all the baptized are equally entitled to be the 
 objects of a pastor's solicitude. She could not, however, 
 break through the charmed circle. Her filial duty forbade it. 
 She had, nevertheless, a wish to fashion things in her own 
 way, and she longed for the chance of attempting it. She might 
 aspire to be the wife of an abbot herself ; and she would then 
 have the opportunity of showing how a Culdee family ought 
 to live. She at least hoped that a wise marriage might 
 deliver her from an intolerable restraint, even though by it 
 her lot might be cast in a sphere very different to the one she 
 coveted. 
 
 Her words to Sorcha only did Fergus justice. It was a 
 virtue which no one could deny to him, the faculty of making 
 others happy, by drawing out their powers of mutual entertain- 
 ment. He was emphatically a society man. And he did it 
 so easily that men did not attribute the whole of their enjoy- 
 ment to him till they had a taste of his absence. But his 
 own wit was ever the sprightliest. It was like a never-failing 
 stream, running, bubbling over every obstacle, shining in the 
 sunlight of an ever-present popularity, and refreshing the 
 whole face of nature around it. Sorcha regretted that she had 
 not been there. 
 
 She was accustomed to pay her grandmother a short visit 
 before settling to her afternoon work, that she might see if 
 the old lady's dinner had been properly served, and convey to 
 her any piece of news which might modify their plans for the 
 
86 THE BBIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 afternoon. On passing the corner of the church she again 
 met Fergus. 
 
 " Thou art always astir," he said, "like one of the elves 
 ■who go the same round. Whither away ? " 
 
 " Homewards," replied Sorcha. 
 
 " Thou wilt come with me an hour hence ? " 
 
 Sorcha looked at him. " Not to-day,'' she replied. 
 
 She gave him no time for remonstrance, but hastened into 
 the cottage. 
 
 " Art thou come to get ready ? " asked Amada, who was 
 arranging her violets. 
 
 "I am not going," replied Sorcha. "Hast thou had a 
 visit from Fergus ? " 
 
 " Just for a moment," replied Amada. " He brought me 
 these, and said he would call again." 
 
 Sorcha hastened back to her afternoon duties, in the hope 
 of avoiding her lover. Why this was she did not know, but 
 she had a dim consciousness that he was too pressing ; that 
 he was giving her no opportunity for reflection. 
 
 There was no denying that she enjoyed his society ; but 
 she would rather that his visits had been confined to the 
 hours when her work was done. To call in the expectation 
 of sharing their breakfast seemed to her an unwarrantable 
 intrusion, even on the bounteousness of Celtic hospitality. 
 She felt safe in Declan's cell, however. She had successfully 
 resisted the temptation of going with him on the river, and 
 it had been to her no slight one. She was, therefore, able to 
 give herself calmly to the task of transcribing the sacred 
 letters. Perhaps there was something stimulating in Fergus's 
 friendship. It nerved her to higher achievements. Was it 
 possible that the hope of his approbation had inspired her 
 gentle fingers ? The page which she illuminated that after- 
 noon seemed, even to her, a miracle of art. 
 
 There are men in the nineteenth century who would give 
 much to know with what materials Sorcha worked. We shall 
 
THE BBIDES OP ARDMORE. 87 
 
 not gratify their curiosity ; we will not withdraw the ever- 
 thickening veil which hides her little box of brilliant colours ; 
 nor will we tell by what subtle processes she had extracted 
 them from the rich juices of our mother earth. Sorcha never 
 attempted those ambitious designs where much exquisite 
 work has been expended on a perspective less advanced than 
 that of China, and where the specimens of moving life are 
 more grotesque than those of the Assyrians. But her spirals 
 were executed with a precision which even a Poynter might 
 envy ; nor would any of our modern lady artists have alto- 
 gether despised the delicate tints of her flowers. 
 
 She worked for some time in silence, without looking up. 
 Then, pausing at the foot of a page, she surveyed its gorgeous 
 outlines. 
 
 An indefinable something crept over her, akin to the sen- 
 sation of a closed blossom, which feels the presence of the 
 sunlight, without discerning it. She glanced mechanically 
 round the cell as if to make sure that she was alone. 
 
 But in a moment she started up, uttering a low cry. For 
 there, leaning against the bare stone wall behind her, was the 
 object which she had been trying to banish from her thoughts. 
 How had it ventured to intrude on her privacy ? How had it 
 dared to enter Maidoe's cell ? But she had no time for 
 questioning. The object was a living, breathing one, and it 
 at once spoke. 
 
 "Thou art diligent, Sorcha. I have stood here for an 
 hour. Thou hast not once raised thine eyes. May I see thy 
 work ? " 
 
 Fergus sat down without further ceremony, and began 
 examining the preeious pages. 
 
 "Beautiful, exquisite! " he exclaimed, his blue eyes glitter- 
 ing with pride. " Thou makest our country worthy of her 
 renown. She is still the Isle of Saints." 
 
 He laid his hand tenderly on Sorcha's arm. She shrank 
 back. 
 
88 THE BBEDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 " When I am alone with thee," he said, " I hardly know 
 what I am doing. Thou art like one of those glorious images 
 in the Eoman churches. All that is great and true in woman- 
 hood finds its expression in the Madonna, just as of old it did 
 in the bright-eyed Virgin of the Parthenon. Thou wert born 
 to make us understand the meaning of higher things." 
 
 " Yes," replied Sorcha, hardly understanding him. " It is 
 worth doing, is it not ? copying these beautiful texts. They 
 may be a treasury to some one whom I shall never see." 
 
 " I spoke not of thy work," said Fergus rising, and trying 
 to take her hand. " I meant thyself. The lily needs not to 
 work. She is beautiful because God made her so. But I hope 
 thou hast a warmer heart than the lily has. Else it will be 
 sad for me." 
 
 Sorcha wished to cut short this talk. It seemed meant to 
 lead to nothing, except to draw from her an avowal of feel- 
 ings which she had not quite given herself permission to 
 entertain. She was quite ready to be won, but it must be in 
 a straightforward, open manner. She dreaded to give some 
 sign of capitulation before being formally besieged Any 
 crafty means were with her likely to defeat their own ends. 
 
 She did not half know her mind. When Fergus was pre- 
 sent, she felt willing to take him, but upon the condition that 
 something which she had not yet seen was there. She had 
 the capability of loving him, but the music of her nature 
 would respond only to a firm touch. He must distinctly say, 
 " I love thee," looking frankly and sincerely out of those blue 
 eyes of his. She already loved her own ideal of what he 
 ought to be; in fact, she adored him, plus an element of 
 straightforward manliness that had not yet contrived to show 
 itself. She knew that he was eccentric, and she preferred to 
 trust her feet on solid ground rather than on the glossy 
 quaking of the bog. 
 
 For Sorcha, like many humble-minded people, had a very 
 exacting nature. It was difficult for her to believe that 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 89 
 
 Fergus loved her so much as to make him want her for a 
 wife. He was so brilliant, so gifted ; and she was only one 
 of hundreds who might feel themselves honoured by his 
 notice. She would not humour a passing fancy ; she must 
 hear it more than once from his own lips before she could 
 bring herself to believe it. 
 
 She did not wish to remain there with him, so she asked 
 him to accompany her home. It would be a gratification 
 to her grandmother, she knew, and would be only anticipating 
 the visit he had already promised. They crossed the park 
 together, and soon stood at the door of the little cottage. 
 
CHAPTEK X. 
 
 Amada was seated, as usual, on the foot of her couch. Her 
 aged face glowed with pleasure as she saw Fergus enter. 
 
 " I feared thou wouldst not come," she said. " Thou 
 mightest find something better to do on a bright day than 
 visit me." 
 
 " The place where thou art is always bright," he answered 
 gaily, standing beside her in the attitude that a sou might 
 have taken. " And I congratulate thee on Sorcha's work. It 
 is beautiful as those flower tapestries which the sunbeams 
 weave upon the meadow." 
 
 " Yea, and look at her spinning," said Amada. " Show 
 us the sheeting, child, that thou hast finished last week." 
 
 Sorcha obeyed somewhat reluctantly. Opening one of the 
 large chests which stood against the wall, she displayed 
 several rolls of fine linen. 
 
 " These are spun from the flax, and woven in our own 
 house," said Amada. " Sorcha's mother learnt it from me, 
 and she is not a step behind any of us. The days are past 
 when weaving was thought to be menial." 
 
 "A truly Irish idea," said Fergus. "We have learnt 
 something more from the Saxons than this new fashion of 
 curled hair. Though we might, indeed, have held the loom 
 in more honour, knowing by whose hands it was plied in the 
 palace of Priam." 
 
 " Then there is the Norman tapestry work," continued 
 Amada. " Sorcha, show it." 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMORE. 91 
 
 Opening another chest, Sorcha displayed a small picture 
 in coloured wool. It represented Euth, the gleaner. 
 
 "An emblem of herself," said Fergus. "And of thee 
 too in bygone days. You have gathered golden grain, both 
 of you, and there is blessing in the house of the righteous." 
 
 This last remark struck a chord in Sorcha's heart, because 
 of its truth, not because of the lips that uttered it. There 
 was a blessing in that humble cottage ; not the sum of her 
 own acquirements, but the never-failing store of love which 
 exhaled its clouds of fragrance around. God had blessed her 
 in every way ; in giving her trusted friends, and in surround- 
 ing her with much that was tasteful and ennobling. He had 
 blessed her not least in the gift of this aged grandmother. 
 But her very thankfulness made her the more alive to her 
 grandmother's weaknesses. 
 
 Amada was talking very familiarly to Fergus. She had a 
 right to do so, if she had confined herself to her own con- 
 cerns. But during the whole of that evening the name of 
 Sorcha was seldom absent from her lips. It was as if she had 
 taken their betrothal as an accomplished fact, and was bent 
 on gratifying Fergus by showing him how great a treasure he 
 possessed. Why should he appreciate the wheaten cakes 
 more because she had made them ? He might surely be left 
 to find tbings out for himself. Sorcha was uncomfortably 
 conscious that she could not succeed in being as dignified 
 as she wished. 
 
 And she felt unhappy after Fergus left. It ought not to 
 have been so had she really loved him. She sat thought- 
 fully by the hearth whilst her grandmother looked to the 
 fastenings of the door. 
 
 " "What aileth thee, child ?" asked the latter. 
 
 Sorcha did not reply for a few minutes. Her grandmother 
 was not usually quick to notice her humours. They were 
 not, in truth, of a troublesome character. Amada's own 
 variations of temperament were worth the study of younger 
 
92 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 people, and it was a new sensation to both to have their 
 relations in this respect reversed. 
 
 Yet it would have been stranger still had Amada not 
 noticed her. Her lustrous dark eyes were fixed on vacancy. 
 The corners of her coral lips were drawn very far down, and 
 she sat immovable, as one who sees too deep into the heart 
 of things. 
 
 " What aileth thee, child?" repeated Amada, in a some- 
 what louder tone. Sorcha rose. Her face took on a more 
 natural expression, but she looked less of a child than of a 
 woman who felt the power of her own will. 
 
 " Grandmother," she said, laying her hand caressingly on 
 the old lady's soft hair, and gazing straight into her eyes. 
 " Knowest thou that I am not pleased with thee ?" 
 
 "Why?" asked Amada, staring back at her in perplexed 
 amazement. 
 
 " Because,'' replied Sorcha in a clear but very firm voice — 
 " just because thou art so kind-hearted that thou hast com- 
 promised me a little." 
 
 " How ? " asked Amada, looking more perplexed than ever. 
 
 " Thou sayest that Fergus comes here for my sake," said 
 Sorcha. " Perhaps he does, but he has not told thee so. 
 And thou hast talked of nought but me to him all this 
 evening, just as if I belonged to him. Thou knowest it 
 welL" 
 
 " But he seemed to like it," replied Amada. " He could 
 have spoken of something else if he wished." 
 
 "But thou didst not ask if I would like it,'' persisted 
 Sorcha. " I am no packman's ware that thou wouldest fain 
 be rid of." 
 
 " Ah I " exclaimed Amada, as if a light were dawning on 
 her. " I thought not of that. It seemed so natural to do it. 
 I would not have any one think that I held thee lightly, 
 I shall be more cautious. I shall not do it again, 1 promise 
 thee." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 93 
 
 Sorcha laughed till the tears came. " Dear, naughty- 
 grandmother," she said. " I know well that thou wilt do it 
 again. Thou canst not help it." 
 
 " Thou shalt see," said Amada. " Aye, and Fergus shall 
 see it too. I am not such an old fool." 
 
 Sorcha kissed her affectionately ere they parted for the 
 night. But events were marching too quickly : she was 
 losing control over them. She had faith in her grandmother's 
 promises, for the old lady was now on her honour. But the 
 effects of that night's doings could not be so easily obliterated. 
 It would be more difficult now for Sorcha to appear indiffer- 
 ent ; she must do all that Fergus wanted, or she must lose her 
 temper. She was amidst rapids through which she lacked 
 courage to pilot herself. Was there any friend to whom she 
 could turn for counsel ? 
 
 There was one who stood to her in a peculiar relation. 
 Confession was not practised in the ancient Church of Ire- 
 land,* but intimate confidences were recommended between 
 pious young people and their spiritual guides. 
 
 It was customary for any one who was much concerned 
 about the momentous questions which determine our destinies 
 to choose some one as a " soul-friend." This one might be of 
 either sex, and need not necessarily be a pastor, but was 
 simply one who had more experience in the Divine life, and 
 sufficient human sympathy to make him enter readily into 
 the difficulties of others. Those who needed such a support 
 were free to choose it ; but when once chosen the relationship 
 was as public and as willingly recognised as that of foster- 
 parent. Sorcha's " soul- friend " was the good Bishop Maidoc. 
 
 She had never found him unsympathetic. He had stood 
 beside her in those dark days when she had failed to catch a 
 ray of light from the Divine promises, when the rainbow of 
 redemption seemed to have altogether vanished from the 
 clouds which obscured her vision. She had not troubled him 
 * Appendix. 
 
94 THE BEIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 with every little detail of duty, but she knew that his heart 
 was glad when he saw her walking consistently with her pro- 
 fession, and he had more than once counselled her to submis- 
 sion under the very justifiable provocation she received from 
 the jealous haughtiness of the Lady Uailsi. Maidoc was 
 always kind, patient, fatherly, and would pause in his most 
 important studies to listen to her, as a gardener will turn 
 from some interesting occupation to note the drooping of a 
 favoui ite flower. Once, when she had indulged in a passion 
 of discontent, and had afterwards expressed her sorrow for 
 having wasted his valuable time,, he had replied : 
 
 " Say not so, my daughter ; the seal of my ministry are ye 
 in the Lord." 
 
 Then he had continued, his face suffused with a heavenly 
 radiance : 
 
 "What is my hope or crown of rejoicing? Art not even 
 thou in the presence of our Lord at His coming ? " 
 
 Sorcha knew, therefore, that she could go to Maidoc for 
 disinterested counsel. But she felt a strong reluctance to do 
 so. If it had been about any other matter, he would have been 
 sure to comprehend her, and perhaps would have even been, 
 gratified by a fresh proof of her confidence. But how could 
 she even manage to tell him ? She fancied herself slipping 
 into his cell in the early morning, leaving her breakfast un- 
 tasted till she had delivered her errand. But it would not do. 
 Her cheeks tingled too violently at the notion. 
 
 Fearful of encountering Fergus, she sent Cacht for the 
 milk. Amada attributed this unwonted indolence to the 
 exhaustion produced by excitement. But Sorcha was of too 
 hardy a fibre to experience any such feeling. She could 
 spend half a night in thought, and next morning move about 
 with her usual briskness. 
 
 It was as she had expected. Her lover accosted her on her 
 way to the village kitchen. 
 
 " Thou art late," he said. " Like the morning star, thou 
 
THE BBIDES OF ARDMORE. 95 
 
 hast had a cloud over thee. I shall be absent all day, for I 
 have to preach at Youghal. I have been looking for some 
 Provencal poetry. I should like to know what thou thinkest 
 of it, for I copied it only for thee." 
 
 " Is it thine own ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " No," replied Fergus. " I wish I could translate it, for the 
 verses have been running in my head. Thou canst fancy that 
 thou hast inspired them.'' 
 
 Sorcha took the tablet. Her curiosity was piqued. There 
 was quite a world of romance sealed to her by her ignorance 
 of the language of " oc," and a world of learning too, sbe 
 fancied Mor knew something of the " gaya sciencia," and 
 spoke rapturously. This tablet might give her a glimpse into 
 that world. It would also give her a glimpse into Fergus's 
 meaning. It would at least- be something tangible should 
 she summon up courage to consult Maidoc. 
 
 She had several opportunities for doing so in the course of 
 the day ; but she shrank back. At length an idea occurred 
 to her. 
 
 It would be easier to break the ice through Ita. There 
 was to be a meeting for prayer that evening in the church. 
 Maidoc was to preside at it. There was a great ferment in 
 men's minds, and possibly some one might detain him after it 
 was over. She would lead Ita out of doors ; darkness would 
 favour her disclosure. 
 
 The church of Ardmore consisted of two parts, forming a 
 large choir and a nave. The choir was the ancient building, 
 and the nave had been added to it fifty years previously. 
 At the junction between the two was a beautiful pointed 
 arch, some thirty feet high, resting on pillars, whose capitals 
 weresculptured in the form of lotus flowers. This arch was 
 the pride of the Ardmore community, and was considered by 
 them as great a triumph of skill as the Menai tubular bridge 
 appeared to the men of the last generation. The round-topped 
 windows and doorways of both churches were splayed inwards, 
 
96 THE BBIDES OP AKDMOEE. 
 
 and had the characteristic ornaments of Celtic ecclesiastical 
 architecture, besides the conventional habit of getting narrower 
 as they receded from the ground. The roof was formed of 
 well-polished wood, whilst a small library of books was stored 
 in the row of ornamental niches in one of the walls. An 
 octagonal stone font, richly carved, and a table covered with 
 fair white linen, were the only ornaments of the choir. 
 
 Evening came, and the wooden benches were gradually 
 filled, chiefly by members of the college family, and by the 
 dwellers on the termon - lands. Many of these stood in 
 groups before the door, discussing with much eagerness the 
 preparations for Thursday's assembly. The younger people 
 were glad that the monotony of their lives was to be broken 
 by some excitement ; but the older ones felt that they were 
 in the midst of a crisis. The time was coming when each 
 community must finally determine whether it would or would 
 not carry out the decrees of the Synod of Kells. The tide of 
 Anglo-Eomanism was sweeping onwards, ceaseless, irresistible; 
 it was obliterating ancient landmarks ; it carried the monarch 
 of Minister on its crest, and it had invaded even the time- 
 honoured sanctuary of Lismore. A barrier must be set to its 
 advance, and a stout barrier too. For through every little 
 hole it would insinuate itself ; it was subtle and elastic ; yet 
 it had a might that could sweep nations into its current. A 
 few years hence the ancient polity might be gone for ever. 
 There would only be a few ruins to mark where it had once 
 stood, like the stones of Calabrian cities engulfed beneath the 
 wave. What could hold the ocean in check ? What but 
 almighty power ? And the strongest weapon of Erin's sons 
 lay in an appeal to heaven. 
 
 Therefore the prayer-meeting was convened. Many were 
 attracted from curiosity. They knew that Ardal would be 
 present, and they expected that he would give an account of 
 his travels, or at least favour them with some definite state-, 
 ment of the views he had formed. Others there were who in. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 97 
 
 solitude had -wrestled with the Angel of the Covenant, and 
 desired to collect the separate units of their strength into one 
 prevailing effort. These foresaw that the ancient church 
 polity would have to struggle for its life. The coils of super- 
 stition were around it, and none knew but that their gentle 
 pressure might soon be tightened. 
 
 It was an impressive sight to see these faces upturned 
 beneath the smoky lamplight, and still more so when all, 
 rising to their feet, sang the glorious hymn of Patrick, to the 
 accompaniment of two harps, one of which was played by 
 Ardal, the other by a professional minstrel. Then every 
 knee was bent while Maidoc's soft voice rolled forth in 
 earnest entreaty. 
 
 Sorcha was deeply moved. She, too, felt the magnitude of 
 the crisis, and she was much ashamed that her concern 
 about it should be so much mingled with the thought of her 
 own personal interests. 
 
 Those who had come for the purpose of hearing Ardal 
 were disappointed. He spoke, indeed, but it was only on 
 the necessity for self-abasement. There were none of those 
 glowing descriptions on his tongue which it could so easily 
 have uttered. He is reserving himself for Declan's birthday, 
 they all thought. And a few lingered after the benediction, 
 as if they scarcely believed the meeting was over. 
 
 Yet somehow these spiritual exercises inspired Sorcha 
 with courage to unbosom herself. "It is self-love which 
 stands in my way," she thought. " If a thing is right, it 
 ought to be done, whether my friends think better or worse 
 of me for it." So she led Ita out into the darkness. 
 
 She passed her arm softly within her friend's. " I would 
 fain learn thy husband's mind," she said, " about some- 
 thing that troubles me. Yet it is what I dare not speak 
 of." 
 
 " What is it, child ? " asked Ita. *■ 
 
 "It is about .Fergus O'Flannahan,'' replied Sorcha. "My 
 
 8 
 
98 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 grandmother thinks — well, thinks he loves me ; and he always 
 comes where I am ; and I know not if he is worthy." 
 
 " I will tell Maidoc, then," said Ita. " Wait thou till we 
 go into our dwelling, then follow us thither. I know he will 
 give thee good counsel." 
 
 Sorcha obeyed. She walked slowly towards her own 
 cottage, and then returned to the church door in time to see 
 the figures of Maidoc and Ita disappear into their own house. 
 
 She went slowly in their steps. It was not without much 
 trembling that she knocked. 
 
 Ita opened the door. Her mild face was unusually grave. 
 Maidoc rose and welcomed her with solemn kindness. He 
 motioned her to be seated at his side. Sorcha kept her eyes 
 fixed on the ground. 
 
 " My daughter," he began, in a voice low from fatigue, 
 " Ita has told me what troubleth thee. Thou wouldst fain 
 learn what I think of Fergus. Hast thou looked cloBely into 
 thine own heart ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Sorcha, demurely, but without the faintest 
 semblance of a blush. "I feel so differently at different 
 times, that I cannot tell what to think." 
 
 " Has he told thee that he loves thee ? " asked Maidoc. 
 
 Sorcha felt that the black, bead-like eyes were fastened on 
 her. 
 
 " Not in so many words," she replied. " But he is always 
 saying that I am pretty, and comparing me to flowers and 
 fairies." Sorcha's face began to burn. " And he gave me 
 this," she added, holding out the Provencal tablets. 
 
 Maidoc laid them on the table. " I trust thou wilt allow 
 me to peruse this," he said. " I would fain have a night to 
 ponder over it. Thou knowest that the first stroke of the 
 bell findeth me at work. Visit me after sunrise, and thou 
 wilt hear what I have to say." 
 
 Sorcha bade him a grateful good-night. Ita insisted on 
 accompanying her home. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 99 
 
 "What was Sorcha's surprise to find Fergus with her grand- 
 mother ! 
 
 " Why hast thou tarried ? " exclaimed Amada. " Fergus 
 would not believe that thou wert at the prayer-meeting." 
 
 " I returned from Youghal two hours ago," said the young 
 bishop. " Thy grandmother and I have had a long talk 
 about the state of the Church, from Polycarp downwards. 
 She is well read in the Fathers." 
 
 " Aye," responded Amada, " and about the state of the 
 Church within the rath of Ardmore. We are a little 
 epitome of the world without. We have our good sides and 
 our bad sides." 
 
 " It groweth late," said Sorcha, " and it were well for my 
 grandmother that her rest be not disturbed." 
 
 " Then I must say farewell," said Fergus. 
 
 " Thou hast no look of weariness," said Amada, " though 
 thou hast preached twice to-day." 
 
 " I often work till after midnight," he replied. " I would 
 never retire to rest sometimes if the lamp did not go out, 
 when I do not happen to have a flint, or cannot find the 
 oil-bottle in the darkness." 
 
 " Thou burnest the lamp of thine own life too quickly," 
 said Amada. " I like those that wear themselves steadily 
 out, not a great flare-up, and then it is dark." 
 
 Fergus looked reproachfully at Sorcha whilst shaking 
 hands, and then disappeared. 
 
 The girl was up betimes. There was, indeed, scarcely 
 sufficient light for a scholar's needs when she sought 
 Maidoc's cell. It had, nevertheless, been strewn with clean 
 rushes, and he was there with a pile of manuscripts neatly 
 arranged before him. He welcomed Sorcha with his usual 
 calm kindness. 
 
 " I have thought over it," he said, " and I must confess 
 my own inability to give thee substantial help. In matters 
 relating to the spiritual life I am at home, but this lieth 
 
100 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 somewhat out of the range of my observation. Hast thou 
 ever formed in thine own imaginings any idea of what a 
 husband should be ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell," replied Sorcha. " But thou hast often 
 told me we must take facts as they are in this world "What 
 thinkest thou of Fergus ? " 
 
 " He is a man whom I regard with the highest esteem," 
 replied Maidoc ; " and I have a warm friendship for him, 
 both on account of his office and character. But the truth 
 is that women look at men with very different eyes from 
 what we do. It is just as thou findest in thy illuminating 
 work. Art thou not sometimes satisfied with the form of a 
 letter, and yet wish the shade of colour had been different ? " 
 
 Sorcha smiled. " Often, if it be yellow," she replied. 
 " There would be no difficulty if I knew my own mind." 
 
 " That makes counsel exceedingly difficult," said Maidoc. 
 
 " But thou needest not doubt now if he loves thee. I have 
 
 read these verses carefully. Thy knowledge of Latin should 
 
 help thee to decipher them. Listen, while I read them 
 
 plainly — 
 
 "Domna, oimais vos en ere ben — 
 Vos est cella qu'ai eneobida, 
 Vos est ma mortz, vos est m'a vida ; 
 Vos est cella que a delivre 
 Me podetz far morir o vivre ; 
 Vos est cella que, ses enjan, 
 Am et tern et ere a reclam ; 
 Vos est mos gaugs, mos alegriers, 
 Et vos est totz mes consirers." 
 
 " Could he not have said it in Irish," said Sorcha, 
 " instead of locking it up in a strange tongue ? " 
 
 " Fergus is not like other men," said Maidoc. " His 
 mind is essentially poetical. But let us take facts as they 
 are, for though God has promised to guide those who ask 
 Him in faith, He has long ceased to answer by tokens. He 
 means us to make use of the perceptive faculties He has 
 given us. There is only one plan I can think of." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOKE. 101 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " That thou watch thyself yet more closely," said Maidoc, 
 " and note especially thine impressions on Thursday, for 
 the full sunlight of publicity sometimes shows our friends 
 in new aspects. Observe Fergus, and observe the other 
 speakers. Then ask thyself, Do I reverence him more than 
 them all ? For that, I think, is the foundation of wedded 
 happiness, especially when the husband is a bishop." 
 
 " I will do so," said Sorcha, rising. " Perhaps I shall 
 learn more by comparing him with others. And perhaps I 
 have done him injustice. If he had not tried to be so con- 
 stantly near me, I might have thought more of him." 
 
 " That may be," said Maidoc. " It is as when we view a 
 mountain — we must neither be too near nor too distant to 
 take in its just proportions. All I will say, in conclusion, is, 
 deal fairly with Fergus as with thyself. It were no kindness 
 to say, ' Yea,' if thou canst not truly return bis love," 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 Akdai had in the meantime been no passive observer of 
 Fergus's actions. This was the greatest trial which he had 
 ever undergone, and he could not, by the subtlest process of 
 reasoning, account for the effect it had on him. Eight days 
 previously he had been master of himself; his whole thoughts 
 and hopes concentrated on his sublime vocation. He had 
 been able to reflect on his own destiny, to survey dispas- 
 sionately the prospect around him, and to judge in what 
 quarter the sweets of domestic happiness might be most 
 readily culled. Now a mist had come over his eyes, and the 
 cause that produced it could not well be explained. He knew 
 very little of Sorcha's character, save from the accounts of 
 others. But she was exquisitely beautiful; she seemed to 
 him the harmonious realisation of all that was true and of 
 good report. To look at her was to feel ennobled ; she was, 
 to outward resemblance, the highest expression of the Divine 
 idea in the creation of man. He watched the ever-changing 
 play of her features with reverent wonder that such trans- 
 cendent loveliness should be embodied in breathing flesh. 
 Earth would have a taste of heaven for him, and heaven 
 itself would be doubly glorious were such a product of the 
 Divine goodness to wander henceforth by his side. 
 
 And the vision had appeared but to baffle him. He was 
 like a mariner who has pursued some phantom ship. Nor 
 could he easily regain his lost course. He must make a 
 great effort. The manliness, the energy which was needed 
 
THE BBIDES OP ABDMOKE. 103 
 
 for his country's service must not be carried away by a re- 
 sistless current, to be sucked into a whirlpool of feeling out 
 of which he would soon be powerless to withdraw it. Fergus, 
 he saw, was constantly in Sorcha's cottage. He could not 
 well be so without her favour. And she could be under no 
 illusion. For the last few days his rival's every gesture had 
 been that of- a lover. There was no reason why she should 
 dislike Fergus. Was Ardal unselfish enough to wish that 
 she might enjoy happiness without him ? 
 
 Ah no ! The lamp which he let down into the depths 
 of his heart revealed spots in it which had hitherto escaped 
 his scrutiny. Perhaps this was a visitation of Providence, 
 a process by which he was to be made more meet for accom- 
 plishing the task to which he had devoted himself. Ardal 
 had little faith in the virtue of ascetic practices. He often 
 said that it were easier to scourge one's flesh than to subdue 
 one's inborn pride. He held to the notion that a bishop had 
 better form the same ties as other men ; that if he needed 
 chastisement it would come to him, and would be laid on 
 more effectively by the Almighty's hand than by his own, and 
 that the occurrences of common life supplied more oppor- 
 tunities for self-renunciation than any we could seek out for 
 ourselves. He was only beginning to taste of the cup he had 
 dreamed about. Was not its very bitterness, therefore, to be 
 prized all the more that it must be drunk in secret, and that 
 he could imbibe with it no temptation to spiritual pride ? 
 
 His struggle was long and sharp, but he had not to rely 
 on his own power. Spiritual faculties grow by such exercise. 
 The breath of doubt can have little influence, on a mind 
 which is conscious of having received help from the Unseen. 
 Ardal rose from his knees with his wicked passions not 
 merely conquered, but transformed into a hearty love to- 
 wards his rival. He himself marvelled at the change ; but 
 he was not proud of it, he was only deeply humbled at 
 having felt the opposite. He was unconscious of having 
 
104 THE BKIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 achieved a victory greater far than that for which many a 
 Eomish saint has been canonised. 
 
 His love for Sorcha was not quenched. He had not done 
 violence to his nature, but he had come to see the possi- 
 bility of loving and yet resigning her. He was a sanctified 
 man, and not the faint imitation of an angel. 
 
 As he preached on Sunday in Ardmore Church none could 
 detect the havoc that earthly affection had wrought within 
 him. His hearers were only conscious that an exceedingly 
 beautiful spirit was before them, pointing the way in which 
 they too might walk. Thus in the bosom of Erin's moun- 
 tains we may behold some moss-covered crag over which the 
 heaven-dropped waters trickle merrily, and be totally un- 
 mindful that its contrasted loveliness of furrowed rock and 
 clustering greenery is the result of desolating storms as well 
 as of sunshine. The greater part of our earth would be a 
 desert without the howling but rain-laden winds, and none 
 of our friends smile so sweetly as those who have often shed 
 wholesome tears. 
 
 Monday brought little change to Sorcha. She was kept in 
 a continual flutter by Fergus's visits, and she managed with 
 consummate skill to avoid being again alone with him. Her 
 grandmother acted with more prudence than she had ex- 
 pected. Amada put a restraint on her feelings. Much as 
 she enjoyed Fergus's soeiety, she maintained towards him a 
 dignity which made her look handsomer than ever, and had 
 the effect of renderingFergusmore deferential than he had been. 
 
 On Tuesday afternoon, as Sorcha sat working in Maidoc's 
 cell, she heard a very timid knock. Opening the door she 
 encountered the blooming face of her servant Cacht. 
 
 " May it please thee," said the panting woman, " thy 
 grandmother bade me fetch thee. Thy mother's sister hath 
 come, with her husband." 
 
 Sorcha folded up her parchments and hastened towards the 
 cottage. 
 
THE BKIDES OF ABDMORE. 105 
 
 The sound of a gruff voice proceeding from it confirmed 
 the servant's statement. Seated on the end of the couch op- 
 posite to that of her grandmother was the angular form of 
 Olrud, his swarthy face lighted by a friendly smile, whilst the 
 statuesque figure of Grainne' stood in an observant attitude. 
 The former welcomed her with the effusion which has the 
 unmistakeable stamp of sincerity in stern natures. The latter 
 surveyed her with motherly fondness. 
 
 " We have come for to-morrow's meeting," she said, "and 
 have already visited the church to render thanks for our safe 
 arrival. My husband felt loth to let such an opportunity 
 slip. He is anxious to learn what the men of Ardmore 
 think. It is duty and pleasure for me both at once. 
 
 Amada looked the picture of happiness. But though she 
 talked with Olrud, her gaze was soon wandering over the 
 room, attracted by the erratic movements of Grainne. She 
 was not long in satisfying herself that there was a change for 
 the better. A placid contentment had begun to take the place 
 of Buffering resignation. 
 
 Olrud and Grainne 1 had at length shaken themselves to- 
 gether. Constant friction had rubbed down the roughnesses 
 of both of them, leaving a smooth polish on the surface of 
 their mutual intercourse ; and the grain of both being of a 
 peculiarly hard quality, they had lost nothing valuable in the 
 process. The influence of time and the growth of paternal 
 cares had brought them into a kind of harmony, just as the 
 worst arrangement of bricks and mortar will become mellowed 
 by weather stains, or so covered by creeping plants as to be 
 artistically beautiful. Providence sometimes compensates us 
 in this manner for the irrevocable oharacter of our mistakes. 
 
 Another figure soon emerged from Amada's chamber. 
 This was Sigurda, Olrud's sister, who resembled her brother 
 only in the swarthiness of her complexion. Fifty-five 
 summers had left their memento of wrinkles on her face. 
 Yet her oheek was ruddy withal, and the warmth of her 
 
106 THE BRIDES OP ABDMOEB. 
 
 manner quite concealed any angularity which she might 
 have inherited. She presented a strong contrast to the fair 
 and queenly Grainne\ 
 
 The party had just sat down to their evening meal, over 
 which an elaborate grace had been pronounced by Olrud, 
 when the inevitable Fergus appeared. 
 
 He started at sight of so many faces. But he soon re- 
 covered himself, and returned Grainn^'s somewhat critical 
 glance with an air of easy assurance. He recollected Olrud, 
 although it was long since the two had met tinder Eossa's 
 roof. 
 
 " There is quite a covey of rooks swarming here," said 
 Fergus. " Each house is fining with friends and relatives. 
 Hast thou come officially," he continued, turning to Olrud, 
 " or in the way of private friendship? " 
 
 "Neither," replied Olrud. "But the Inisfallen brethren 
 are interested in to-morrow's gathering. It is the duty of 
 every man, and above all of every bishop, to note, as much 
 as in him lies, the signs of the times. As Ardmore pronounces 
 itself, so will a hundred other clerical communities.'' 
 
 Sigurda sat with mouth half open, as if wishing to drink in 
 the stream of her brother's wisdom. Her eyes were now 
 turned towards Fergus. 
 
 "True," replied the latter. "Thou mayest feel how a 
 nation breathes by the throb at one of its extremities. And 
 a nation seldom pronounces wrongly — Vox populi, vox Dei." 
 
 " I differ from thee," remarked Grainne\ " There was 
 once a cry, ' Not this man, but Barabbas.' " 
 
 Sigurda at once made the sign of the cross, fearing that 
 her sister-in-law's speech might be blasphemy. She was 
 reassured, however, by remarking that the two bishops 
 received it with a smile, and that Amada shook with quiet 
 laughter. 
 
 "And Demosthenes was fined by the Athenians," said 
 Olrud. "Had we lived in the days of Patrick, or of Golumba, 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 107 
 
 I should have had no fear for the issue. But we no longer hold 
 strictly to the inspired canon. We have framed earthen 
 vessels for ourselves, and we resort seldomer to the golden 
 pitchers." 
 
 " Thou speakest of the Book of Armagh," * said Fergus. 
 " It is a singular thing that, notwithstanding its promulga- 
 tion, the office of Co-arb of Patrick should have passed away 
 from its hereditary guardians. If thou lookest well at it, it 
 seeks to place the Abbot of Armagh in the same relation to 
 us as that in which the Bishop of Borne stands to those who 
 acknowledge him." 
 
 " Yea," replied Olrud. " "What else could these abbots 
 expect ? They pretended to have received a power by Divine 
 revelation to which they were in no way entitled. Then 
 comes Malachy O'Morgan, and says, ' You must yield to me. 
 I have a better claim, for I have received a mandate from 
 Rome.' " 
 
 " Malachy was a great man," said Fergus, " and he was 
 the son of an Irish presbyter; yet hath he done more to 
 denationalise us than any other. For my own part, I was not 
 sorry to see the family of Armagh humbled. 11 we must offer 
 our sandals to a superior, let it be to him who wears the 
 purple." 
 
 Olrud started. A frown crossed his warthy face, making 
 it look like a sculptured anger. " Wilt thou risk," he said, 
 " any departure from the simplicity that is in Christ ? " 
 
 "If thou meanest episcopal parity, no," replied Fergus. 
 "I only said, if I had to yield to one of two evils, I should 
 prefer to acknowledge the pretensions of Borne before those 
 of Armagh. Borne would at least give us an equivalent 
 for our loss. She has the glory of royalty about her. There 
 was something infinitely mean in the way that the Abbot 
 Celsus travelled over the country, sweeping away all the tithe 
 cattle in his train." 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
108 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 " There I agree with thee," said Olrud ; " but I quite 
 differ on the point that one evil may be cured by another. 
 Thou knowest that Peter's pence have been claimed already. 
 We have only felt the touch of the little finger ; by-and-by 
 we shall feel the weight of the iron glove. Those wonderful 
 cathedrals, those vestments broidered with gold — who pays 
 for them ? Is it not one of the notes of a true bishop that he 
 should not be greedy of filthy lucre ? " 
 
 " Aye,'' replied Fergus ; " but it is not for themselves, it 
 is for the service of God," 
 
 " That may be," said Olrud ; " but was God any the worse 
 served when there were none of these things ? There may 
 be times of persecution coming ; but better, I say, that we 
 should suffer hunger and nakedness than allow the true light 
 to flicker for a moment." 
 
 Fergus looked unusually grave. He remained silent for a 
 few moments, patting gently the arm of his chair. 
 
 Amada took up the thread of conversation. 
 
 " Think you it will come to that ? " she said. " I know that 
 the Synod, the Synod of Kells, took on themselves to put 
 bishops over us, just like the Eoman ones, and to tell the old 
 tale about our bishops not being rightly ordained, and that 
 when each one died there should no one but a simple presbyter 
 — priest, as they call it — be put in his place. But I thought 
 every one was determined to resist this. They have not 
 managed it yet.'' 
 
 " True," replied Olrud. " But other causes may be at 
 work which will upset all our calculations ; just as the men 
 of Marseilles were startled by the falling of their tower, when 
 Caisar's legion had approached it under cover of a shed, and 
 had picked out all the small stones at the foundation. The 
 mischief comes from our loose hold on Scripture." 
 
 " And on Christ," replied Amada. " He is the sure founda- 
 tion. There is too much talk about Patrick and Columba for 
 my taste. It is like ' I am of Paul, and I of Apollos.' " 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOItE. 109 
 
 "Aye; and if we only were of Paul!" exclaimed Fergus, 
 rousing himself from his reverie. 
 
 He now said good-night, shaking hands with each of the 
 company. Few could help noticing that Olrud's manner 
 towards him had lost its friendly warmth. Both bishops 
 looked grave, apparently from different causes; but the 
 glance of unfeigned admiration which Sigurda cast on Fergus 
 quite atoned for her brother's coldness. All eyes were directed 
 to Olrud after the door had been closed . 
 
 He shook his head ominously. " Unstable as water," he 
 said. " 'Tis sad— sad." 
 
 " But yet he excels," exclaimed Sigurda. " How dost thou 
 explain that ? " 
 
 Her brother looked darkly at her. " Sigurda," he answered, 
 "beware lest thou be found to have itching ears. Fergus 
 O'Flannahan is but a tinkling cymbal when a true note has 
 to be struck." 
 
 Sirgurda's eyes were downcast at her brother's reproof. 
 But Amada felt that he had gone too far. 
 
 " Thou must not call him that," she exclaimed. " If he be 
 but a cymbal, he is at least a good one. There are some that 
 would be the better of making more music themselves. I did 
 not agree with what he said about Kome making up for any- 
 thing it took away, but I am sure he did not mean to favour 
 it. No one could be more strict than Fergus if it came to the 
 point." 
 
 " I hope so, I hope so," answered Olrud. " Hath he been 
 much in thy company of late ? " 
 
 Amada's eyes twinkled. " He is after an orthodox business," 
 she replied. " He will not yield to Borne for Sorcha's 
 sake." 
 
 There was a burst of merriment. Sorcha's cheeks were 
 tingling with shame and vexation. She sought refuge in her 
 grandmother's apartment. 
 
 "Is it so?" said Olrud. "Then I shall forgive him; 
 
110 THE BEIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 for, as thou sayest, a wife would bind him to the Irish Church. 
 But I cannot allow such utterances to pass unreproved " 
 
 " Sorcha is to be congratulated," said Sigurda. "I suppose 
 it is all settled ? " 
 
 " No, in truth it is not," exclaimed Amada in alarm. " He 
 has never said so in words. It is only my sharp old eyes 
 that see through a chestnut husk." 
 
 " Then, mother," said Grainne, quietly, " I advise thee to 
 wait till the husk breaks. Thou wilt hurt thy teeth if thou 
 try to crack it. I am glad of the hint, though, however it 
 came." 
 
 It was now arranged that Amada should resign her room 
 to Sigurda, and occupy one of the couches ; the one, in fact, 
 which had belonged to Moriath, and into which she had a 
 great dislike to see a stranger enter. Olrud was to seek 
 accommodation in one of the neighbouring cottages. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 The silver bell of Ardmore Tower began ringing before sun- 
 rise. It announced to all within earshot that the children of 
 Declan had resolved to mark, by something unusual, the 
 birthday of their spiritual father. This day was reckoned, 
 by a beautiful Irish custom, to be, not that of his entrance 
 into this mortal life, but that of his reception into glory. 
 And many eyes peered anxiously forth from door and window- 
 slit, seeking to discern from the face of the sky what hopes 
 they might entertain of fair weather ; for the sun which 
 illumineth the Emerald Isle hath ever had much to contend 
 with in the way of vapours. Yet were his beams then so 
 beneficent as to relieve the husbandman from all duty in the 
 way of haymaking, they likewise imparted to the region 
 about Ardmore a climate which still in summer recalls to us 
 somewhat of the balmy air of Sorrento. 
 
 As the light grew stronger, a multitude of figures flitted 
 about, pursuing the usual avocations of kitchen, stable, and 
 dairy. Ardmore was in a flutter of excitement, and few of 
 its inhabitants had broken their fast ere the tramp of hoofs 
 and roll of wheels announced that some of the expected 
 visitors had arrived. 
 
 Towards nine o'clock several groups might be seen wending 
 their way along the face of the hill fronting the sea. Fisher- 
 men who had left their tiny skiffs in the safe shelter of 
 Ardmore Channel, Bothachs, or farm -labourers on the 
 termon- lands, had all donned their holiday attire, and 
 
112 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 hastened, in company with men of superior station, towards 
 the group of huge boulders which then surrounded the 
 fountain of Declan. All were much occupied in discussing 
 the nature of the report which they hoped to hear from the 
 lips of Ardal and Fergus. 
 
 " Hast thou seen aught of the young bishops ? " asked a 
 countryman of Cacht, adjusting oyer his stalwart shoulders 
 the plaid of saffron-coloured wool, which did duty with him 
 both by day and night. 
 
 "Aye," she answered ; "but thou needest not to look for 
 marvels. Their stay abroad hath not nourished a silver 
 moon behind their heads, such as I have shown to thee in 
 Mael-Patrick's foreign gospel, nor even a pair of long ears, 
 like thine own are apt to come to." 
 
 " And have they no sacred bits of wood to show us ? " 
 asked the labourer, unabashed by her ready wit. " Methinks 
 mine eyes would fain rest on that which hath borne the 
 weight of the Crucified One." 
 
 " Hast thou seen Declan's treasures ? " inquired a stalwart 
 blacksmith, whose forge stood on the inner side of the 
 entrance to Ardmore rath. " There is amongst them a rag 
 of the swaddling clothes, brought thither by a pilgrim of the 
 last generation. Yet have I heard Bishop Ardal say that the 
 words of Paul are more precious than his bones." 
 
 " Which of the two thinkest thou will be the man of 
 fairest tongue?" asked the labourer. "Hath their speech 
 not grown thick with the utterance of strange sounds ? " 
 
 "Nay, that may I not tell," replied the smith. "But 
 thine eyes should have a feast. For is not Bishop Ardal the 
 grandson of our own chieftain, besides being the very image 
 of great King Brian ? " 
 
 " God bless him ! " exclaimed several of the bystanders. 
 Over the rocks, near the fountain, a small wooden platform had 
 been erected, supporting some thirty benches, one of which 
 had been covered with a scarlet cloth for the use of the abbot. 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMOKE. 113 
 
 The crowd here soon rapidly increased, men, women, and 
 children flocking over the daisied turf to range themselves on 
 the hill-slope directly above the gushing spring, in whose 
 waters they and their forefathers had been baptized. They 
 were for the most part habited in saffron-coloured mantles, 
 those of the wealthier being bordered with brilliant chequers. 
 The women wore no other head-dress than a simple kerchief 
 of white linen. 
 
 Other men soon began to ascend the platform, whose 
 tunics of white wool were covered over with cloaks of undyed 
 black. They were all distinguished by the shaven coronal, 
 and were the bishops of surrounding villages, together with 
 those resident in Ardmore itself. As if by instinct, the male 
 part of the audience gathered on the space immediately before 
 the platform, whilst the women and girls squatted on rugs 
 around the outside. a 
 
 Amongst these latter were Amada, Grainn4, and Sorcha. 
 The Lady Uailsi, who sat with her daughter at a little 
 distance, acknowledged their civilities by a gracious bow. 
 
 The Lady Uailsi was in unusual spirits ; for beside her 
 on the smooth turf stood a group of men whose chequered 
 trews, silver-fringed crimson mantles, golden bracelets, and 
 jewel-hilted swords marked them out as nobles. Chief of 
 these was a man of stately mien, whose haughty glance 
 seemed to claim the homage of the whole assembly. This 
 was Prince Malachy O'Faolin, chief of the Deisi, who had 
 been attracted thither principally by a desire to see how his 
 young kinsman, Ardal, would comport himself. 
 
 Amada had insisted on being present in the assembly, in 
 spite of Grainnd's remonstrances. "Thou wilt not deny 
 me," she had said. " I shall hear nothing ; but who would 
 miss the sight of so many good men ? One can guess much 
 from people's faces. I shall know which side they are 
 taking. I should be uneasy at home, and would fain know 
 the result before the meeting separates." 
 
114 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 Sorclia's spirits had sunk very low. She felt as if on the 
 course of this day's proceedings not only the purity of Erin's 
 Church, hut her own individual destiny, would depend. 
 Her eyes sought the centre of the black-robed group. 
 There Fergus sat. He had noticed her ; he had darted a 
 friendly smile across the intervening throng. Sorcha could 
 not well examine him, but she had an impression that he 
 was much excited, and that his restlessness made him the 
 most prominent figure in the assembly. 
 
 No ceremony attended the abbot's entrance. He stepped 
 forward simply and sat down, throwing back the hooded 
 cape from his massive head. He bowed an instant in silent 
 prayer, then, rising, made signs to the minstrels to strike up 
 Patrick's hymn. 
 
 It was a solemn moment when its measured notes rose 
 into the quivering air. Deep, sonorous voices blended with, 
 the music of harps, trumpets, and cymbals, whilst some 
 sweet and tender ones, and even Amada's low quaver, added 
 their strength to the sound. It rose like a cloud of incense 
 from the altar of free and devout hearts, and seemed to come 
 echoing back from the clear blue sky, unfettered by any roof 
 of human rearing. 
 
 After a few minutes of earnest prayer, the abbot spoke. 
 His clear handsome features were, as usual, composed and 
 pleasant. As he surveyed his audience all traces of anxiety 
 soon disappeared in a glance of satisfaction that his summons 
 had been so well responded to. 
 
 " My friends," he began, " the elders of Ardmore have 
 called you together to help them in deciding on a point which 
 will affect the welfare of your children's children. Sixteen 
 years have passed since the Synod of Hells confirmed the 
 decree of that of Kathbresail, imposing on the free community 
 of Ardmore an ecclesiastical superior. But, like other Irish- 
 men, we have been loth to obey laws which transgressed the 
 traditions of centuries. Four years ago the Abbot Ghristianus, 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDM0BE. 115 
 
 of Lismore, addressed to my lamented predecessor, the Abbot 
 O'Faolain, a most touching remonstrance. ' Why will ye 
 not return to the true fold ? ' he said. ' God hath suffered 
 the churches of Ireland to go on their own way for a time, 
 but He calleth on them now to repent. Ye make a schism 
 in the body of Christ.' 
 
 " And Abbot O'Faolin replied : ' We cannot return where 
 we have never been. The truth has been handed down to us 
 through an unbroken line of bishops and presbyters, who 
 were none the less truly ordained of God although their 
 names have not been tabled on earth. From the apostles, 
 through Irensaus and through many others, the Word was 
 conveyed to Brittany, and thence the noble Patrick bore to 
 our shores that imperishable seed, whose sprouting has 
 made our island a bright spot of verdure in the eyes of 
 Christendom. But Patrick received his first ministry by no 
 imposition of hands. The Spirit of God spoke as directly to 
 him in the wood of Foclud as He did to Paul on the road to 
 Damascus. We have felt His presence ourselves, felt it in 
 our inmost being, and have therefore no need to seek for 
 other credentials. But we wish not to seem wise in our own 
 conceit. Give us four years to learn what ye seek of us. We 
 will do what our forefathers did half a century ago, when the 
 Pope wrote to them about the Easter controversy ; we will 
 send messengers to Borne, to Antioch and Jerusalem, if need 
 be, that we may know whether your system be better than 
 that of Declan, better than that of Columba, of Aidan, and of 
 the other holy men into whose labours ye seek to enter.' 
 
 " Brethren, the four years are past. The messengers are 
 before us. From their lips ye shall learn what are the fruits 
 of that unity which yearneth to embrace us. Bear with me 
 whilst I say a few words of my own. 
 
 "This struggle, as you well know, has lasted for seven 
 hundred years. Borne has been victorious everywhere, even 
 in regions where the tramp of her imperial legions was never 
 
116 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 heard. The wild mountaineers of Caledonia and the elders 
 of our beloved Iona have been coaxed or forced into sub- 
 mission. Lindisfarne has long ago been forsaken by those 
 of its sons who would not adopt a foreign ritual. The hearths 
 of a pure faith have in the Cambrian valleys been quenched 
 in the blood of the saints of Bangor.* The foundations of 
 Columbanus,+ of Fridolin, of Gallus, have conformed to the 
 rule of Benedict. Nowhere but in Erin do the Celtic Britons 
 hold their own against the power of the Bomanised Saxons. 
 Brethren, we are strong in our isolation, strong in our union, 
 stronger still in the memory of victories won by the sword 
 of the living Word. Yet the foe is amongst ourselves. The 
 antipathies of race have been skilfully used by him. Those 
 Danish settlements on our shores, near the mouths of our 
 great rivers, have sought consecration for their pastors from 
 Canterbury ; and the men whose fathers ruthlessly plundered 
 our shrines now lend themselves as handles to the foes of our 
 spiritual freedom. And our kings, the sovereigns of Munster, 
 have they not consented to the partition of our country into 
 prelatical districts ? "Whither shall we look for help under 
 this dire oppression ? Where but to that Divine Comforter 
 who hath never yet forsaken us ? 
 
 " But whilst I advocate resistance, and advocate union, there 
 is one point on which I desire searchings of heart. Bomans 
 and Saxons have treated us badly, cruelly, I may say, when 
 I think of the martyred Britons of Cambria. But have we 
 been careful to show them the charity that is not easily pro- 
 voked ? Have we never shut ourselves up in the haughtiness 
 of our superior purity ? What meaneth that old tale of our 
 ancestors not eating with Bomanists, of casting the leavings 
 of their meals to the swine, and of scouring with sand every 
 vessel polluted by the stranger's use ? Brethren, let us feel 
 that, notwithstanding diversities of doctrine, we are yet one 
 in Christ. We may refuse to acknowledge a human head 
 * Appendix. t Colunibanus of Luxeuil. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 117 
 
 below the Divine one, jnst as we may decline to place a screen 
 between our eyes and tbe sun. Let those who prefer the 
 screen keep to it, if they will ; but they have not yet shut 
 themselves out from some enjoyment of the light. Let us 
 be careful to exercise hospitality even towards those prelates 
 whose claims we resist. Let us show them that ours is the 
 better way by the purity of our lives, and by the love that is 
 ready to pardon a multitude of sins. So shall we gain a 
 victory ten times more enduring than if we had overcome 
 them by the valour of our right arms. Let us pray that God 
 may change their hearts towards us ; then may we unite with 
 them in the warfare against ignorance and vice." 
 
 All eyes were now turned on Fergus O'Flannahan, who, 
 flushed with pleasure and excitement, stretched his slender 
 figure to its utmost height, and smiled in a way which sent 
 a thrill of expectation through the assembly. There was a 
 gleam of triumph in his blue eye ; he felt and looked like the 
 bright particular star whom the multitude had come forth 
 to be dazzled by. Sorcha's eyes were rivetted on him as 
 by enchantment. She felt her heart heave to that state of 
 transcendent emotion which made it ready to receive deep 
 and lasting impressions. 
 
 " Sons of Deolan," began Fergus, in a voice whose silvery 
 ripple ran to the utmost limit of his audience, " inheritors of 
 a faith pure as the translucent gems of your own mountains, 
 I feel that the choice of our fathers might have fallen on a 
 better man than I am ; yet I cannot stifle the gladness that 
 kindles in my heart at sight of hearers so well fitted to use 
 any crumbs of information I may have gathered for them. 
 The last three years have been very eventful ; they have 
 seen the flight of one king from green-valleyed Erin, and 
 quarrels amongst the others which have made the Isle of 
 Saints like a gathering-place of clouds replete with noisy 
 fire. "Whatever may be our ecclesiastical state, there is no 
 doubt that we need a strong hand to roll the storms from our 
 
118 THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 country. I yield to no ancient bard in my admiration of the 
 Celtic character. We have been to our friends as the grateful 
 sunbeams are to budding boughs, but as the very fire-winged 
 lightnings of the skies to our enemies. Our love of fighting 
 springs from an innate sense of valour, and from an 
 originality of thought, •which, when sanctified, has borne the 
 sounding eagle wings of our renown throughout Christendom. 
 I have crossed the foamy paths of ocean to a land where the 
 name of Scot was no transient beam of fame. High and 
 low, rich and poor, priest and layman, vied with each othsr 
 in showing honour to the countrymen of Maelmuire and of 
 Duus Erigena, Yet there was an impression amongst them 
 that we are deficient in artistic culture. ' How is this ? ' I 
 asked of an Italian priest. 'Have ye no esteem for our 
 Bibles, the work of our recluses, as well as of our white- 
 handed maidens ? Can anything surpass the faultless regu- 
 larity of their letters ; the brilliance or the ingenuity of their 
 colouring ? ' ' True,' he replied, ' the eagle eye of the sun 
 looks down on no richer storehouse of sacred or classical 
 learning than Erin. But your taste goes no further than 
 these Scriptures ; you scorn to apply it to your sanctuaries, 
 or to the implements of common life.' Then I told him of 
 the Ardmore bell, whose voice is tuneful as the airy murmurs 
 of the harp, and I said that I would challenge any Italian 
 artificer to fashion a more wondrous instrument than the 
 trumpet of the O'Faolain. Yet I felt there was truth in his 
 words. We are gifted above other races in our love of beauty 
 — why not apply this to the service of God? Would our 
 worship be less acceptable beoause offered amongst gracefully 
 sculptured columns, instead of between those bare walls 
 which argue a meanness of intellect ? Erin hath ever been 
 noted for the melodiousness of her clerics ; yet doth the 
 music of our native hymns bear the same relation to the 
 tones of the Gregorian chant that the notes of our early 
 spring warblers do to the whirling blasts that burst at night 
 
THE BBIDES OF AKDMORE. 119 
 
 from our cloud-capped mountains, their awful thunder broken 
 only by the noise of purling torrents. Our prayers and 
 liturgies need not come the less from the heart if we make 
 them more solemnly impressive. Thus might we defeat our 
 opponents with their own weapons. Let us acknowledge 
 wherein they excel us by trying to give to our pure faith a 
 grander expression. The king's daughter was to be brought 
 to her royal spouse in raiment of needlework ; her clothing 
 was to be of wrought gold. Believe me, my brethren, in 
 these things we have erred. Let us have lofty, towering walls 
 to our churches, framed after those Grecian models whose 
 exquisite proportions charm the eye even in ruin. Let us 
 deck our altars with whatever is precious ; let us welcome all 
 forms of adoration which worthily set forth the praises of our 
 God ; so shall Erin, clothed with the fame of the mighty, be 
 again a beacon of light to other lands, and our children 
 shall find in the burnished gold of our sanctuaries that which 
 shall attract them from the glitter of strange shrines. 
 
 " And though the Gaelic race be the finest in. the world, 
 we have yet much to learn socially from others.. We are 
 naturally chivalrous, and we live under laws which embody 
 more than any others a sense of respect for the fair sex. 
 Could it even have entered into the mind of a Caesar or of a 
 Justinian to decree that all presents given by a married man 
 to a strange woman should belong by right to his wife ? But, 
 nevertheless, we have no code of honour to regulate the 
 minor courtesies. Even in battle the knights of Normandy 
 — men who have dyed a thousand fields with their enemies' 
 blood — throw over the haughty faces of their wrath the 
 blooming rainbow of politeness. Our chieftains behave as if 
 they, like Achilles, had a heaven-given warrant for railing. 
 In place of these endless bickerings about cattle, the Franks 
 have their splendid tournaments, where the proudest has to 
 win his spurs in the soft sunshine of ladies' smiles, and re- 
 ceive his prize from hands fairer than the drifted foam. The 
 
120 THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 art of wooing has been reduced to an exact science. The 
 princesses of Provence do not think themselves demeaned by 
 sitting in judgment on affairs of the heart. Might we not 
 engraft all this on our social polity without detracting from 
 our manliness ? So shall we gather the flowers and fruits of 
 our own virtues, sending them down to far succeeding times, 
 instead of letting them be scattered like the white showers 
 from our hardy thorn-trees." 
 
 A murmur of assent went round the audience whilst 
 Fergus spoke. Many smiled sympathetically, but Sorcha 
 noticed that a few grew graver as he proceeded. One of these 
 was Olrud, who had slipped from Amada's side and managed 
 to edge his way into the centre of the crowd. Another was 
 Ardal. As Fergus sat down, he rose very deliberately. 
 
 It is always trying to speak after a brilliant orator. When 
 men have just inhaled the perfume of the rose, the fragrance 
 of other flowers must appear to them insipid. There had been 
 a magic in Fergus's manner which it is impossible to portray, 
 and which acted on Sorcha and others like a sudden sunbeam 
 on wet flower-buds. The spell lasted for a few minutes after 
 he had sat down ; yet, as Ardal's handsome figure and massive 
 head stood out clear against the group of dark forms behind 
 him, there was something in his bold features and yellow locks 
 that recalled traditional memories of Erin's national hero, 
 and made men draw their breath more softly whilst he spoke. 
 
 " Brethren," he said, " and sisters in Christ, I, like the 
 last speaker, stand before you to give an account of my im- 
 pressions, and to offer a few suggestions which may help you 
 to decide on your line of action. Our Church has been 
 emphatically a missionary one. My researches have con- 
 vinced me that the larger half of Europe has been evangelised 
 by it. The great Saxon nation, which now stands foremost 
 in the ranks of our rivals, owes much of its intelligence and 
 knowledge of the Scriptures to the poor Irish bishops. Our 
 very humility has helped to conceal this fact. We have 
 
TEE BKIDES OF AEDMOJ5E. 121 
 
 sown the fields where the emissaries of Eome have reaped 
 such abundant harvests. What saw we in Caledonia, whither 
 we first directed our steps ? Iona, where for nigh two cen- 
 turies the lamp of truth burnt so steadily — Iona, the home of 
 Columba, is now occupied by a Eomish confraternity. Vainly 
 did successive monarchs try to maintain its ancient authority. 
 Since the decree of King Nectan* banished its true sons 
 beyond the Grampians, those who had ousted them received 
 but a hollow homage, and were powerless to summon Scottish 
 swords to their help when the wild sea-pirates rifled their 
 shrines. Dunkeld obtained the supremacy which Iona had 
 lost — Dunkeld, whose abbot was held worthy to mate with 
 royalty and to become the ancestor of Caledonia's kings. I 
 must not harrow your feelings by dwelling much on the 
 events of the last ninety years, nor tell too minutely how a 
 sovereign, himself the near descendant of pious bishops, + set 
 himself to the task of reconciling Scotland with Eome. The 
 work was only half begun in the days of Malcolm and 
 Margaret. It has been carried on most vigorously by their 
 sons. Prelatic seats have been established; and though no 
 native Scot has been persuaded to fill them, though a Turgot 
 and a Eobert have had to forbear exercising their functions 
 at St. Andrew's, the power of these foreign offices is at length 
 becoming consolidated. You wish, doubtless, to learn how 
 the ecclesiastical colleges have been treated. The new 
 bishopric was invariably offered first to the abbot, and in- 
 variably declined. To the twelve resident brethren was 
 given the choice of becoming canons-regular, or of renouncing 
 all their rights in the next election, and submitting to a re- 
 duction of their incomes to the extent of three-fourths of all 
 funeral oblations. The two communities continue to live 
 side by side. At St. Andrew's we saw its rightful owners 
 offering their simple prayers in a very small corner, whilst 
 the body of the church was kept for the pomp and circum- 
 * Appendix. t Ibid. 
 
122 THE BRIDES OF AKDM V>EE. 
 
 stance of a foreign ritual. Does not this foreshadow our own 
 fate should we give our assent to the decrees of Eathbresail ? 
 
 " In England * the disastrous change has gone further. 
 The nation has been crushed under a despot's heel. The 
 story of Lindisfarne has been too often repeated. Other 
 .abbots besides Colman, other brethren besides the spiritual 
 sons of Hilda, have sought shelter in the wilderness rather 
 than conform to unscriptural rites. The lapse of time has 
 justified their conduct, for the proud representatives of the 
 Koman bishop have become a byword for their worldliness. 
 Men who professed themselves celibates have procured the 
 appointment of their sons to the highest functions of govern- 
 ment. Cruelty and rapine reign in episcopal palaces. 
 
 "Yet from quarters undreamed of has a purifying, rain- 
 laden wind come, rousing into life and beauty those seeds of 
 pious feeling which lie dormant in every human heart. The 
 preaching of the new Cistercian monks has met with currents 
 of thought springing from the utter despair of Englishmen at 
 the fearful havoc caused by the late civil war. Streams of 
 blessing now flow where, in church or in hedgerow, . men 
 meet for social prayer. But will not these soon run shallow, 
 if their force be directed to the glaring sunshine of cathedral 
 building, rather than to the secret but eager study of the 
 sacred Scriptures ? 
 
 The struggle has begun in Cambria. The massacre at 
 Bangor only made the love of their native clergy sink deeper 
 into Gaelic hearts. Here we found churches as pure as our 
 own ; but the married bishops t cannot always succeed in 
 keeping their benefices. Too often the choice of the com- 
 municants has been overruled by some Norman baron, a 
 Komish stranger being introduced by force of arms. 
 
 "In Brittany it is the same story. The days are past 
 when its children could keep aloof from the Franks. During 
 the last forty years it has been a penal offence for a son to 
 * Appendix. t Ibid. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDHORE. 123 
 
 succeed to his father in the ministry, and every effort is 
 being made to have ecclesiastical offices filled by celibates. 
 
 "I come now to speak of lands which are more directly 
 under the rule of Eome. My colleague has given you a 
 glowing description of the courts of love, and of the influence 
 of chivalrous laws on polite society. I would fain utter a 
 few words of dissent. The ruling of these feminine tribunals 
 is almost never in accordance with the morals of Scripture. 
 Words would fail me to tell of the corruption and the dis- 
 organisation of social life which they have produced. It 
 would be a libel on the Eomish Church to say that she looks 
 on these courts with a favourable eye. Nevertheless, they 
 have sprung up under her teaching. But I say, give me the 
 wild lawlessness of our heathen ancestors, rather than these 
 refined specimens of impure casuistry. There is the less 
 need for me to dwell on them, since they are so utterly foreign 
 to our Irish nature. 
 
 " ' And what is the Church doing, then ? ' you will ask. 
 She is as a voice crying in the wilderness. "Whether it be 
 that the strength of religious zeal has been expended on the 
 effort to rescue . Palestine from the infidel, or whether the 
 pomp of ritual diverteth men's minds altogether from the 
 Scriptures, I know not ; but certain it is that nowhere did I 
 meet with so much blasphemy, so much reliance on human 
 reason, and so much utter rejection of inspired truth as in 
 that very Provence which has so recently been the honoured 
 residence of a pontiff, and in Champagne, where the bold 
 thinker Abelard was condemned to burn his writings. Yet 
 are there living communities in Southern France. The 
 Word of God was translated several years ago, and widely 
 scattered through the efforts of a rich merchant. I have 
 stood in the squares of the great cities, under the rays of a 
 broiling sun, and heard Peter Waldo announce, in language 
 simple but impassioned, the wondrous message which earth's 
 kings have been trying to smother since the hour when it was 
 
124 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 first proclaimed on Bethlehem's hills. "Waldo speaks of the 
 Church in no measured terms. He calls it the barren fig- 
 tree, the mystical Babylon, and other terms which our 
 ancestors would hardly have dared apply to it. The con- 
 gregations founded by him must at length come into conflict 
 with the Eoman bishops. God alone knows what the issue 
 may be. 
 
 " Let me next say a word about Scandinavia. We visited 
 it not, but one of its sons whom we met in Borne told us 
 some things you may wish to know. There men struggle 
 fiercely about a question which interests ourselves — the 
 question whether better missionary wort be done by celibates 
 or by married men. No Swedish or Danish priest doubted 
 his own right to marry before the Council of Bheims * met 
 fifty years ago. Twelve years later Pope Innocent sent his 
 legate, Cardinal Cibo, to Denmark, with orders to enforce 
 obedience. Then deeds of violence were done. Those who 
 refused to dismiss their wives were even punished with death. 
 But it has been in vain. Archbishops, priests, and people 
 still hold firmly to their ancient customs. The Archbishop 
 Peter, of Upsala, hath even suffered deposition at the hands 
 of the proud prelate Absalom for his persistence in conse- 
 crating priests' sons. The lower clergy are now in despair, 
 and all alike appeal to a general council. And in Iceland, 
 whither the gospel was first carried by our own Cormac, the 
 custom of pastors' sons being trained for the ministry is so 
 firmly rooted that I cannot believe it will ever perish. 
 
 "But what hope is there now of a general council ? You 
 may judge from what I have told you what is the measure 
 of real unity in the Bomish fold. Milan and Florence have 
 seen their altars deserted for want of ministers, t no one 
 being willing to take the place of those disciples of St. Am- 
 brose who had become a proverb for sanctity, and who chose 
 rather to resign their offices than their wives. And what 
 * Appendix. t Ibid. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDS10EE. 125 
 
 shall I say of Kome ? Shall I say with Bernard of Clair- 
 vaux, that for their very enemies the Lombards can find no 
 more contumelious name than that of Eoman, and that the 
 district so long governed by God's vicar hath become a 
 pasture of demons rather than of sheep ? Shall I say, with 
 the Bomans themselves, that the blood of Arnold is on the 
 Church ? I will say none of these things, but I will merely 
 state that the vaunted home of peace and unity is now torn 
 to pieces by civil war ; that the Pope cannot enter his own 
 city, where a prefect now rules in name of antipope and 
 emperor, and that pontifical service has been performed in 
 St. Peter's whilst the pavement up to the high altar was 
 reeking in blood. 
 
 " Brethren, can we wonder at the vengeance of God ? 
 Can we wonder at that mysterious sickness which in one 
 night destroyed two thousand nobles and prelates, sending 
 the German army to retrace its laborious steps across the 
 Alps ? Brethren, I will say no more. We have seen shameful 
 things in Ireland, but they were not done in the name of reli- 
 gion, and God grant that the day may be far distant when our 
 endless bickerings, bloody as they are, shall be exchanged for 
 the gigantic contentions that have turned Italy into a desert. 
 
 " We, too, suffer from the separation of the Church from 
 the world. We, too, have not succeeded in leavening the 
 whole nation with our teachings. Are we not feeling the 
 touch of decay ? Whence., then, the proverb that the saints 
 of Patrick's age were as if robed in flame, those of Columba's 
 were as burning mountains, and those who have come after 
 but as the glimmer of lamps in the valley ? Some of us, I 
 fear, are but as smoky torches. Why is this ? Because 
 we neglect to rekindle ourselves at the true altar ; be- 
 cause we allow the pride of birth and the pride of office to 
 obscure the brilliance of the beacon that should guide the 
 feet of our fellow-mortals. We have not so far perverted the 
 gospel as to burn incense to the queen of heaven, but we have 
 
126 THE BKIDES OP ABDMORE." 
 
 too often made it of none effect by allying it with the pride 
 of this world. If we would maintain our ecclesiastical, or 
 even our national independence, we must lay aside carnal 
 weapons, and, like Sedulius or Columba, furnish the slings 
 of our natural abilities with pebbles from the clear running 
 brook of inspired truth." 
 
 As Ardal sat down, Olrud strode quickly to the front. He 
 had been very restless for some minutes, his dark eyes fixed 
 on the sea of heads before him. He shouted out just as the 
 abbot had risen — 
 
 " Men and brethren, one word. It is the word of a 
 stranger, but it cometh from lips well practised in preaching. 
 Eeference has been made to Patrick. He lent not to clerical 
 matrimony the force of his example. The pioneers of truth 
 must, like soldiers, deny themselves many things. But he 
 never discouraged it by precept. He could not thus pro- 
 claim himself to be doubly the child of sacrilege. Yet did he 
 make it one of the qualifications which he desired to find in 
 a candidate for a settled episcopate, that he should be the 
 husband of one wife. Our great Master honoured the wedded 
 clergy when He gave us Patrick. Have not our very best 
 rulers and teachers been the children of bishops ? And there 
 was conjugal love in Eden before the Fall. 
 
 " We in this island have had abundant experience of 
 ascetics. There are few of our religious settlements which 
 have not been crowded with them. The rule of our Colum- 
 banus, travestied as it hath been, * was surely not inferior in 
 strictness to that of Basil or of Benedict. Yet, never at 
 Durrow, nor at Bangor, at Clonmacnois, nor at Ardmore, 
 have men been permitted to bind themselves by irrevocable 
 vows. Our most enthusiastic ascetics usually settle down 
 into married bishops. Doth not the whole worth of self- 
 renunciation consist in its being practised by willing hearts ? 
 "Why, then, force men to continue- in its paths by hedging 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 127 
 
 them round with oaths ? Those who are truly called to such 
 a life need no such safeguards, and I object to have another 
 man's conscience made the rule for mine.'' 
 
 Olrud was collecting himself for a further effort, when 
 another bishop deliberately cut short what he feared might 
 be the beginning of an interminable harangue. 
 
 A variety of speeches followed, indicating various shades 
 of opinion, but almost all concurring in the resolve to offer 
 a determined opposition to the claims of the Abbot of Lis- 
 more. The Synod of Bathbresail, they argued, did not 
 truly represent the Irish Church. Not one -third of the 
 Munster bishops were present at it. It was largely packed 
 with monks, Danes, and others who had no settled flocks ; 
 those who were not influenced by royal persuasions being 
 many of them opposed to the obnoxious measures. The 
 Synod of Kells had numbered still fewer recognised pastors. 
 Its decisions were well known to have been foregone con- 
 clusions, and the very fact of its having been presided over 
 by the Eomish Cardinal, Paparo, showed that it was an 
 assembly altogether outside of the native Irish communion. 
 Few, excepting the Abbot Gelasius of Armagh had been satis- 
 fied with the way in which its business had been conducted ; 
 and even he must have experienced a secret smart at the 
 manner in which the ancient authority of his abbacy had 
 been encroached on. The old Irish argument for not obey- 
 ing the decrees of the four Catholic councils held good likewise 
 in this case — that those who had been unrepresented could 
 not be expected to tender their submission. 
 
 At one o'clock the speeches were still going on, although 
 the abbot had made an effort to close the meeting in order 
 that the Eucharistic, or thanksgiving service, might be begun 
 in the church. Maidoc and several of the elder bishops now 
 retired. They wended their way to the church, and began 
 the chanting of Psalm cxvi. in honour of Declan's translation, 
 preparatory to dispensing the emblems of the Saviour's death. 
 
128 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 They were followed thither only by the few who wished to 
 reach their distant homes before sunset. Amongst these 
 was the Faolain. On leaving the church he pressed his 
 nephew's hand. 
 
 " Would that this held the sceptre of Brian Borumha," he 
 said eagerly. " There is a wisdom behind it which might 
 pilot us safely past these perilous rocks. "Why hide thy 
 talents under that shaven brow ? Other Irish princes have 
 wielded both the crosier and the white wand of sovereignty. 
 Come with me to Boderick's court ; I have done him such 
 service that a word from me would procure thy advancement." 
 
 " I have a yet greater Master," replied Ardal, " and much 
 as I love thee, thou must pardon me for saying that were I 
 co-arb of Declan, thy services to Boderick should make thee 
 be held unworthy of touching the sacred cup. My brother 
 Domnall," he continued with a shudder, " may not be what 
 thou wouldst have him, but we might well change his rule 
 for a worse one. And I will never wade to power through a 
 stream of kindred blood." 
 
 " Thy speech is rough," said the O'Faolain, sighing. 
 "Thou thinkest that the sword of my justice hath been a 
 gory one. Would that I had drawn it for thee, and not for 
 Domnall ! " 
 
 Amada also had left the assembly, accompanied by Sigurda, 
 Grainne, and Sorcha. They wandered by a winding path 
 towards the brow of the hill, Amada leaning on Sigurda's 
 arm, and pausing every few moments to inhale the fresh sea 
 breeze. Sorcha gave her a brief account of the arguments 
 that had been used. 
 
 " Thou seest," remarked Sigurda, " that the abbot is very 
 anxious for charity. But I think he is not wiser than his 
 fathers. These Bomanists are just such as the Corinthians 
 were told not to eat with — they are idolators." 
 
 " What hath been thy thought of Fergus's speech ? " asked 
 Amada. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 129 
 
 " Excellent ! " exclaimed Sigurda. 
 
 " For my part," said Grainne, " I was disappointed. I 
 have always looked on Fergus as one of our first men. He 
 never seemed to touch the core of the matter." 
 
 Sorcha looked fixedly at her. These words deepened an 
 impression of which she was half ashamed. 
 
 Grainne continued : " For my part I would trust Ardal 
 O'Brien more." 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTEE Xni. 
 
 The assembly came to its decision at a late hour. This was 
 declared by a show of hands, a fashion as prevalent among 
 the men of Ireland as it had been amongst those of Argos 
 three thousand years previously. Olrud returned to the 
 cottage after sunset. He had indeed been the efficient cause 
 of the crowd's dispersion, having had both the longest and 
 the last word. Yet his stalwart frame showed no sign of 
 exhaustion. 
 
 " "What hath been the result ? " asked Amada, her eyes 
 sparkling with excitement. 
 
 " The children of Declan will keep to the old paths," 
 replied Olrud. " It is like a game of chess. We have lost a 
 crowned head and a couple of knights, perhaps, but we have 
 an unbroken phalanx of pawns." 
 
 " And a great king who cannot be checkmated," said 
 Amada. " They can never come within a dozen squares of 
 him." 
 
 " Is that not irreverent ? said Grainne. " I, for my part, 
 cannot see what all the lamentation is about. If all the rest 
 of Christendom hath gone the wrong road, it will not hurt 
 Erin so much to be in company with others." 
 
 " Thou art wrong," said Amada. " Her fall will be greater 
 because it will be from a greater height ; and she will take 
 longer to recover herself than will the others." 
 
 "Assuredly! " said Olrud. "I had an hour's talk with 
 Ardal this morning. He thinks that we will need all our 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 181 
 
 strength to maintain our political as well as our spiritual 
 liberty. He has a strong suspicion that since a handful of 
 our clergy swore fealty to the Bishop of Borne at Kathbresail 
 the said bishop has made a gift of the whole island to the 
 English king." * 
 
 " Nonsense,'' said Grainne' ; " the man must be dreaming." 
 
 "Ardal is no dreamer," replied her husband. "He is 
 not likely to believe anything without sufficient ground. You 
 know that the Soman bishop claims the right of deposing 
 sovereigns. Ours have not been pattern ones by any means. 
 He says that it is well known in France how a bull to that 
 effect was issued thirteen years ago, and that though it be 
 kept secret, the new prelates are all aware of it. "What think 
 you that our colleges are called in this bull ? ' Nurseries of 
 vice.' " 
 
 The cheeks of all flushed with anger. 
 
 " That is too much ! " exclaimed Sigurda. " The whole 
 world knows what the Culdee families are. What was Iona? 
 what Bangor ? what is Lismore ? Nurseries of Scripture 
 . truth and of Scripture manuscripts." 
 
 " And of science and literature," said Sorcha. " Have not 
 our forefathers seen their colleges crowded with Saxon students 
 eager to learn at the feet of Irish lectors those tongues in 
 • which the sacred books were first committed to writing ? The 
 Eoman bishop must surely have been referring to something 
 else." 
 
 " Not at all," said Olrud. " Yet methinks the term would 
 have been more fitly applied to those courts of love over 
 which Queen Eleanora presides. But see ye not what is vice 
 in his eyes ? It is to seek baptism from persons unauthorised 
 by him ; to give the cup, as the apostles did, to the laity ; and 
 to let bishops lead about their wives, like Peter." 
 
 "But is there any real danger ? " asked Amada. 
 
 " The danger lies in disunion,'' replied Olrud. " If we keep 
 * Appendix. 
 
132 THE BBIDES OF AEDMOHE. 
 
 firmly to our faith we are safe for this generation. Our 
 children must look after themselves. But there is a glamour 
 over men's minds. That Fergus, now, is doing the enemy's 
 work. He helps to darken the issue." 
 
 " Pray leave Fergus alone," said Amada. " He is not 
 responsible to thee." 
 
 Olrud shrugged his shoulders. " Another source of mis- 
 chief is," he said, '* that men will not believe in the existence 
 of the bull. Ardal, it seems, has tried to mention it to our 
 friend Maidoc and his wife. They were both very indignant, 
 and said it must be a libel. No Christian pastor, they 
 insisted, could be guilty of such a scandal. Ardal thought it 
 better not to speak of it in public since he had met with so 
 little credit when he disclosed it to one or two." 
 " Dost thou believe it thyself ? " asked Sigurda. 
 " I do," replied Olrud ; " but I see not how it can be 
 carried into effect. The King of France would help us by 
 attacking Aquitaine.'' 
 
 " Bat there is another point," said Amada. " We are told 
 to notice in the Old Testament how the Israelites were left to 
 be defeated by the Philistines whenever they wandered from 
 God. Perhaps that is His meaning about us. We have 
 wandered very far from Him, there is no mistake in that." 
 
 " Thou sayest truly," said Olrud. " Look at the Lady 
 Uailsi. If all I hear about her be true, she is a specimen 
 of the spirit that has been at work. As long as our bishops 
 were poor and had nothing to trust to but the power of the 
 Word, they made converts by thousands. Tribes, if not 
 nations, were born in a day. They carried the laity along 
 with them at first, and both together made progress in secular 
 learning as well as in wisdom. But the pride of office soon 
 began to show itself — the gifts of the Spirit came to be 
 thought of as a monopoly. Men remain within our ranks 
 because they find there an honoured career ; and now that 
 the colleges are rioh, there is no longer the same simplicity of 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 133 
 
 life. There is actual luxury ; and it helps to separate us still 
 more from the people." 
 
 " Thou dost not object to honey in thy pottage," remarked 
 Sorcha ; " although the Senchus Mor says it is only for kings' 
 sons." 
 
 " And thou needest not to speak of the Lady Uailsi," said 
 Amada. " We might look nearer home. Each of us is proud 
 in our own conceit ; and we think ourselves fitted to judge 
 others. Hast thou not broken bread in our church this day ? " 
 
 " That I shall never do in Ardmore," replied Olrud. " Yon- 
 der sculptured arch savours only of the things that be of man." 
 
 Maidoc and Ita called at a late hour ; but Fergus failed to 
 appear, perhaps because he feared to encounter Olrud, with 
 whom he had already had a slight war of words. Maidoc 
 and Ita both looked curiously at Sorcha. It was impossible 
 for them to discover what impression the day's events had 
 made on her. 
 
 Sorcha was, in truth, ill at ease. She meditated about it 
 during the night, longing to be satisfied. The effort to 
 compare Fergus with others had been altogether vain. There 
 was no doubt that he had been a distinguished figure, and 
 that, had the sense of the meeting been taken, it would have 
 been found that Sigurda was not alone in considering him to 
 be by far the most talented of the assembled bishops. There 
 was a spell in his presence from which no one could escape, 
 unless, like Olrud, they dwelt in an exceptionally hard shell. 
 Sorcha felt this spell, and would willingly have yielded to it, 
 had she been well assured that its strongest potency was for 
 her alone. Yet why should she doubt this ? Was not Fergus 
 a Christian minister, pledged by his profession to the strictest 
 integrity in both love and friendship ? Was he not placed 
 on a moral pinnacle from which no earthly temptation was 
 likely to induce him to throw himself ? Had he not given her 
 tokens of his regard enough to have satisfied an ordinary 
 maiden ? Sorcha was vexed with herself. She was capable 
 
134 THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 of love in the abstract, why, then, did she fail to trace any 
 concrete form of it amidst her present sensations ? 
 
 Fergus had never plainly said, " I love thee." But there 
 are more ways of speaking than that with the lips, nature 
 having furnished us with organs which transmit our inner 
 meaning often in spite of our wishes. In a man of Fergus's 
 culture these must be completely under control. He was no 
 poor unlettered fisherman, who keeps his eyes fixed on some 
 fair one till his neighbours begin to laugh at him. All that 
 Fergus did must have a meaning. Was it not her fault, 
 perhaps, that the decisive words had never passed his lips ? 
 Had she not been in haste to withdraw when he clasped her 
 hand ; had she not avoided looking into the liquid blue of his 
 eyes ? His confident self-assurance had displeased her ; but 
 perhaps it was a quality natural to genius. The modest 
 fearfulness which accompanies love might even show itself in 
 this lack of direct speech. She must not judge him as she 
 would other men. Perhaps a greater degree of encourage- 
 ment would lead him to show himself in a new light. 
 
 Sorcha felt keenly the discomfort of her position. She had 
 blamed Fergus for it, and now she was beginning to blame 
 herself. It must be evident to those near her that she was 
 being courted ; she was no longer free to move about in her 
 own way ; yet she could not lift her head boldly and say, " I 
 am a spouse." Fergus was taking some of a lover's privileges 
 without any valid warrant for doing so. 
 
 " Why so restless, Sorcha ?" asked Grainne, who occupied 
 with her one of the couches. " Thou art so quiet in the day- 
 time, that we can hardly get a word of thee ; yet now, when 
 one would fain sleep, thou art lively. What aileth thee ? " 
 
 " Nothing," replied Sorcha ; then, half conscious of having 
 uttered a falsehood, she said — 
 
 " Grainne^ did any one ever ask for thee before Bishop 
 Olrud ? " 
 
 Grainne laughed. " The question is curious," she said. 
 " Dost thou wish to know how he asked me ? " 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOBE. 135 
 
 It is always a sweet surprise when a young heart finds an 
 older one capable of true sympathy, when the difference of 
 years vanishes in the similarity of sisterly experiences. 
 Sorcha's eyes beamed in the flickering firelight. 
 
 " I should not tell thee," said Grainn6, " but that I think 
 thou hast a reason for asking. There is not much to tell 
 after alL It was at the very darkest period of our family life, 
 when we felt as if we might become peasants. Olrucl did it 
 very respectfully, and all in order. He spoke to thy grand- 
 father first." 
 
 A ray of light flashed on Sorcha's mind. Her aunt was 
 perhaps the very one, not only to give her counsel, but to 
 ascertain the state of Fergus's mind. None could be endowed 
 with a finer tact. 
 
 " Supposing he had come to thee first," she said, " what 
 wouldst thou have said ? " 
 
 " Just the same," replied Grainne. " Thy father tried the 
 opposite way, and of course he succeeded. But few parents 
 would have approved of it, and neither would thy grand- 
 mother, if it had not been such an exceptional case. I some- 
 times wonder what a man would do about thee. My mother, 
 with all her excellent qualities, is not quite an efficient 
 guardian. But I must speak lower." 
 
 " There is no need," said Sorcha. " She could not hear us 
 at this distance, even if she were awake. As for Cacht, she is 
 like the brown-haired Oscar ; we might roll a stone against 
 her head without making her rise." 
 
 " Hast thou been troubled in that way ? " asked Grainne\ 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha. " I have had hints more than once 
 from Ita and other women, that some of their young friends' 
 cared for me. The abbot is my proper guardian ; and I- 
 know not if any of them ever asked me of him. I doubt 
 much, though, if he feels any responsibility on my account. 
 So when I have heard anything of the kind, I have taken care 
 to answer very decidedly." 
 
136 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 " Thou art 'wise," said Grainne\ " If it were not for 
 Maidoc and Ita, thou wonldst be rather unprotected. Men 
 will speak to thyself sooner because thou art an orphan. But 
 what is the case with Fergus ? " 
 
 Sorcha felt her cheeks burning. It was a few minutes 
 before she answered — 
 
 " Well, aunt, I can hardly tell what to say. He has visited 
 us three times a day for the last week ; and I never go out of 
 the house without meeting him. And he sometimes speaks 
 to me as if he were in love. Yet he has never said so." 
 
 Grahme made some inarticulate sound. "Dost thou 
 esteem him much ? " she asked. 
 
 " Every one does," replied Sorcha. " I think him wonder- 
 fully gifted, but I had rather he had said more on the right 
 side to-day, in place of speaking about ornaments. Bishop 
 Olrud is not wrong in that." 
 
 " Then thou dost not think him perfect ? " asked Grainne. 
 
 " No one is so," replied Sorcha. " Speaking of him as a 
 bishop, I have often been impressed with his sermons. I re- 
 collect that when I was a child he preached here sometimes, 
 and I have trembled at his descriptions of the miseries of the 
 lost. No doubt it was good for me to tremble. But now that 
 my mind has become more settled, and he has come back 
 from such a long journey, I seem to see him in a different 
 light. There is not the same spiritual savour in his exposi- 
 tions that there is in Maidoc's, or in Ardal's. They are often 
 sublime, but it is as if, after hearing the thunder and the 
 whirlwind, one listened in vain for the still small voice." 
 
 " Thou hast a keen discernment, child," said Grainn& 
 " May I whisper to thee my real belief? Fergus O'Flanna- 
 han is not a Christian ! " 
 
 Sorcha started. A cold shudder passed through her. 
 
 " It is a serious thing to say," oontinued Graimii, " and an 
 awful thing, when I think of his profession. But I have good 
 grounds for my judgment, Sorcha. When my father was. 
 
THE BE1DES OP AEDMORE. 137 
 
 ruined, we felt that there were none who owed more to us 
 than did the O'Flannahans. We had shown them kindness 
 and hospitality without end. The elder brother, Blathmac, 
 who is now dead, was introduced to the family of Lismore 
 through my father's influence. They were poor, and we 
 furnished them with the means to carry on their studies. My 
 mother did as much for the sisters as if they had been her 
 own children. Yet from the day that we became poor, we 
 never saw any of them in our house. I have heard both 
 brothers preach, but have never spoken to either again as to a 
 friend till I came here." 
 
 " That is most strange," said Sorcha. " But knowest thou 
 aught worse of Fergus ? " 
 
 " My child," replied Grainne, " he hath learnt too well 
 the language of gallantry. Some men, who are quite scrupu- 
 lous in their dealings with their own sex, have no sense of 
 honour when they are trifling with women's feelings. And 
 that is what I fear he doth with thee." 
 
 Sorcha groaned. She had suspected this, but yet she 
 suffered when it was spoken aloud. " But suppose," she 
 said, " that he were really in earnest. What motive can he 
 have for deceit ? " 
 
 "Vanity, child ! " replied Grainne. " He loveth admiration 
 so much as to court it. I say not that the man is without 
 feeling. He hath a quick eye for the beautiful, and I flatter 
 thee not when I say thou dost gratify it. Fergus would fain 
 have it said that thou hast remained unmarried because of 
 him. And he might, perhaps, like thee for his wife. But thou 
 seest he hath been too cautious to commit himself." 
 
 "But how could he like me," inquired Sorcha, "and yet 
 not seek me ? " 
 
 " There is strong self-interest at work," replied Grainne. 
 " He will look for some one of high birth. He doubtless 
 knows many such. Should he fail in this, he can fall back on 
 thee. And he may possibly never marry at all ; for if the 
 
138 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 new prelacy gain ground, some high office may he open to 
 him." 
 
 " Art thou sure of this ? "asked Soreha. 
 
 "I am sure of nothing," replied Grainne. " My impres- 
 sions may be uncharitable ones. But a man who can flatter 
 so well can also amuse himself by a little love-making. Thou 
 must not act altogether by my advice. I may be swayed by 
 my recollection of the family's conduct to us. Those who have 
 known sudden poverty have their eyes too much opened. And 
 I will say this for him, I believe he would make a good 
 husband if he ever did marry. He is flighty, he is eccentric ; 
 and his wife would have her trials ; but he is nevertheless 
 not without a certain kindliness of disposition." 
 
 " How knowest thou this ? " asked Soreha. 
 
 " Because I know his sisters," replied Grainne\ "They are 
 devoutedly attached to him ; they admire him as much as 
 Sigurda does. But somehow or other he has extinguished 
 them. They are tame household drudges, without much mind 
 and with little will of their own. They are content to be 
 mirrors reflecting their brother's excellences. Some women 
 seem to have been brought up in a school which treats them 
 more as shadows than as helpmeets to the other sex. Sigurda 
 is one of them ; only her will asserts itself in spite of her, and 
 Olrud is not quite Fergus O'Flannahan." 
 
 Soreha laughed. There was certainly a difference between 
 the brilliant Fergus and the hard, cold, dry, dogmatical Olrud. 
 
 " I only speak of talents," said Grainne\ " Morally, I 
 consider my husband the superior of the two. He never 
 looks or hints a thing he does not feel. His word is to be 
 relied on more than many another man's oath." 
 
 " That is true," said Soreha. 
 
 " As for Sigurda," continued Grainnd, " I might get angry 
 if she did not make me laugh. The woman has a good 
 enough mind if she would only exercise it. She takes credit 
 to herself for great humility in declining to hold an opinion 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 139 
 
 till she knows what some bishop thinks of it. If she has a 
 good man's name to tack to her ideas, there is no getting her 
 to look at the other side of them. Now, is that not what we 
 blame in the Anglo-Eoman system ? It transfers the respon- 
 sibility of using our reason to ecclesiastical shoulders. How 
 angry Sigurda would be, could she hear how I have spoken 
 of Fergus ! It is my honest opinion, though, that even if he 
 means honourably, thou canst never bave any real love for 
 him." 
 
 " "Why not ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " Thou wouldst be incapable of criticising his sermons," 
 replied Grainne\ " Thou hast penetrated the truth of them ; 
 and that is a sure sign that the golden mist hath never blinded 
 thee." 
 
 " But there are other things besides intellect," said Sorcha. 
 " A man may have lovable qualities which one can think 
 about quite apart from his literary attainments." 
 
 " True," replied Grainne. " Yet it was not of his talents 
 thou spakest. It was of something that affects his moral 
 nature much more closely. Well, Sorcha, all I shall say is, 
 if he proposes outright, and looks as if he meant it, take 
 him for better for worse ; but beware lest his attentions keep 
 thee from any one else." 
 
 " There is little fear of that," said Sorcha. " I can think 
 of no one else who seeketh me now." 
 
 Grainne was silent. She knew that her niece was ex- 
 tremely beautiful, but was at the same time apparently un- 
 conscious of being so. She did not wish to break the charm 
 which surrounded her as with a halo. " Hast thou spoken 
 with my mother ?" she asked. 
 
 " Once or twice," replied Sorcha. " But she cannot give 
 me disinterested advice. Fergus is a man quite after her 
 own heart. There is one from whom I did seek counsel — 
 Bishop Maidoc." 
 
 Grainne laughed. "Maidoc!" she exclaimed. " My child, 
 
140 THE BRIDES OF AHDMOKE. 
 
 he knows as much about these things as a little linnet that 
 has just broken its shell. Maidoc, indeed ! " 
 
 Sorcha felt rather vexed. She had been much influenced 
 by Maidoc's expressions of esteem for Fergus. 
 
 " Maidoc has done very well for himself," she suggested. 
 
 " He truly has," said Grainne' ; "he was guided by a right 
 instinct. But that does not make him better qualified to 
 advise thee. He is himself too simple-minded to perceive 
 any want of uprightness in others, and the very cleverest 
 men never get the insight into character that a woman does. 
 In proof of this, I ask thee to notice how many worthless and 
 cunning women make the other sex believe them to be angels. 
 There may be some who think Queen Devorgilla * one, not 
 to speak of Eleanora. I see it with Olrud. He has a power 
 of very minute observation, and has a most practical turn of 
 mind. And he is not disposed in general to be lenient to 
 people's faults.- Yet most women can make him believe a 
 plausible story. Times without number have I had to inter- 
 fere for his enlightenment. He always acknowledges it, 
 sooner or later. He considers that this is one advantage of 
 matrimony to a bishop. Believe me, we judge the other sex 
 more truly than they ever do us." 
 
 A few minutes' silence followed. 
 
 "I see thou art not convinced about Fergus," said Grainne. 
 " Be not swayed too much either by Maidoc or by me. Thou 
 hast faculties of thine own ; thou canst not go wrong by 
 trusting entirely to them. There is a gratitude for being 
 loved which most women feel, and it is often quite sufficient 
 to marry on. Thou mayest be capable of that, although thou 
 art quick to detect faults in thy lover. There are some men, 
 too, whom we esteem more tban we like ; others whom we 
 like more than we esteem. I should say Fergus belonged to 
 the latter class ; and I have no right to say that he is not 
 sincere." 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 Borcha. had quite relinquished her habit of going out in the 
 early morning, perhaps from an unconscious •wish to avoid 
 encountering Fergus. She had the intention of spending the 
 forenoon of the next day in a village about six miles distant, 
 a little girl having accosted her on the previous evening with 
 the message that an invalid grandmother would be glad of 
 a visit. She accordingly slipped out after breakfast, and, 
 climbing nimbly over the rath, disappeared into the thick 
 forest in such a manner, that few could have observed her. 
 She needed time for thought ; she wished to weigh well her 
 answer to the momentous question which would decide the 
 happiness or the misery of her life. 
 
 The track which Sorcha followed was passable for small 
 chariots, being subject to a periodical clearing of brushwood 
 and other impediments. It was diversified by long stretches 
 of grass and deep, irregular ruts. The lofty pine-trees on 
 either side formed a pleasant shelter from the burning sun- 
 shine. 
 
 Nor was there danger even in that rude age for a lonely 
 girl in following such a track.* The forest with its clearances 
 for miles around was part of the termon-lands of Ardmore, 
 whose sanctuary none but the heathen foreigner had as yet 
 dared to contemn. Like many others throughout the island, 
 it formed a peaceful oasis in the midst of a wilderness of 
 disorder. Sorcha had. therefore much leisure for reflection 
 * Appendix. 
 
142 THE BEIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 as she descended Ardmore hill towards the narrow strip of sea- 
 water which then encircled it on the inland side, and which, 
 being almost dry at the ebb, was crossed on stepping-stones. 
 
 It seemed a cruel thing to have the thread of her fate 
 put into her own hands. With many a maiden of later days, 
 she almost envied the lot of those who, like the daughter of 
 the Boman Latius or of the Hebrew Caleb, were disposed of 
 without the shadow of a choiee being left them. We are all 
 in part weavers of our own destiny. Although the warp of 
 •surrounding circumstances may be prepared for us, it is we 
 who unquestionably form the pattern of it. The process is 
 carried on, for the most part, unconsciously ; we are not aware 
 what important issues may depend on our most trifling 
 actions. But certain times come when the pattern must be 
 definitely chosen, when the shuttle of our desires stops a 
 moment from its incessant darting, and we hesitate before 
 ■we let it slip forth to form the first stitch of a fresh design. 
 Well for us if we are persons of taste, if we have been 
 trained to diseern what is lovely ; and not, like Sorcha, dim 
 of vision as to the excellencies of the things that compete for 
 our preference. 
 
 Sorcha felt the burden of existence. She ought not to have 
 done so ; she was a young thing, fashioned in a mould of un- 
 common symmetry, full of the quick, throbbing life that 
 seems too buoyant to be easily crushed. "Men have serious 
 duties to fulfil, "she thought ; "but their shoulders are strong, 
 their hearts are brave, their brains have a calibre which will 
 stand many a rough pull on their energies. We poor women 
 are sheltered from many anxieties ; but our weak shoulders 
 are unable to carry this one great one which is laid on a few 
 of us. The happiness or misery of my whole life will depend 
 on a resolution which I have to form in a few brief hours ; 
 and I have little scope for a survey of the scenes where my 
 lot will be fixed by it. Fergus may be leaving in a few days ; 
 he may offer to break a coin with me ; shall I do it ? " 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOBE. 148 
 
 Sorcha's walk had become slower. Standing on the brink of 
 a small brook, she stamped her foot impatiently on the ground, 
 whilst her coral lips pressed themselves together in anger. 
 
 " It is mean of him," she exclaimed, " to keep me in sus- 
 pense. He is quietly entangling me, whilst he keeps himself 
 free from the meshes of a promise. It is not noble thus to 
 ■take advantage of my weakness." 
 
 Her heart swelled almost to bursting. " I could love him," 
 she murmured, " if he would only give me a definite assurance. 
 It is, perhaps, thoughtlessness ; he imagines that my com- 
 posed manner shows me incapable of suffering. But can the 
 Jove be very strong that does not impel to some utterance ? " 
 As Sorcha continued her walk, her thoughts wandered back 
 to her aunt's experiences. Grainn^ had not talked like an 
 unhappy woman. Why, then, was her grandmother always 
 lamenting ? Her aunt might have suffered, for Olrud did not 
 .look like the man she would have chosen. True sympathy 
 must have been a late flower with both of them. Sorcha 
 thought of them as of two mountain streams : the one clear, 
 •pellucid, sparkling ; the other dark with the grit it had accu- 
 mulated in many a conflict with impeding rocks. Their 
 channels had met ; they had rushed together in a series of 
 wildly leaping waves ; the shock had been tremendous, and 
 for a long stretch of way they had not wholly commingled, 
 though their efforts to do so had produced a succession of 
 small but dangerous whirlpools. The union, however, had been 
 at length accomplished ; they were flowing onwards in a broad, 
 cheerful stream ; the grit was ground into fine sand, and de- 
 posited on the swelling banks. The keenest eye could not 
 ' detect that they had ever been imbued with mutual repulsions. 
 Their lives were fuller and richer than if they had remained 
 separate. Was it, then, so absolutely necessary that a woman 
 must have her true affinity ? 
 
 Our mental constitutions have a strange texture, Sorcha 
 thought. Yet she little knew how strange are those of the 
 
144 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 
 
 physical world. Modern science has taught us that sub- 
 stances are capable of very unexpected combinations ; a 
 component part of one material being sometimes inexplicably 
 attracted by some component part of a neighbouring one. 
 Human beings, perchance, have the same capabilities of ad- 
 justment. One part of Grainne's nature had been pushed 
 incessantly forward ; it was the part that suited Olxud. The 
 rest was kept somewhere in the background. She had a 
 wider range of sympathies than he had ; so no doubt the 
 process of change had been going on more actively in her. 
 
 But Grainn^ knew how to adjust herself. Had the instinct 
 been stronger in her than in other women ? The object to 
 be attained had been placed quite clearly before her, Sorcha 
 reflected. The worst of Fergus was that one would never 
 be quite sure of his wants. Ah ! if he were insincere I 
 
 The thought cost Sorcha a real pang. Was this a proof 
 that she had begun to love him ? He was going away, and 
 she would be left with nothing but remembrances. She 
 would, perhaps, learn to read her own heart in his absence. 
 
 She had already traversed a wooden bridge spanning the 
 deep, broad stream of the Lickey, which the clearing away of 
 the forests has since so much reduced in volume. She now 
 reached the village of Clashmore, situated in the depths «f 
 a romantic dell. It consisted of some thirty hovels, built 
 of wattles with a picturesque variety of shape that was 
 suggestive of much resource on the part of the architects. 
 Each hut, in fact, looked as if it had rolled downwards 
 from the rim of the dell and been tumbled into shape by 
 the rubs which it got in its descent. A sprinkling of grow- 
 ing grass lent colouring to roof and wall, and from the 
 apertures in some of them issued thin blue columns of 
 smoke. Other columns arose from other quarters, but these 
 were caused by the open-air fire, where dark-robed women 
 squatted as they watched their simmering pots. The whole 
 was surrounded by a hedge of blackthorn, sprinkled with the 
 
THE BKIDES OF ABDMOBE. 145 
 
 red rowan-berries, and flanked on the outside by a narrow 
 ditch. 
 
 Soroha stopped at one of these abodes. She dived into it 
 in spite of its stifling atmosphere. 
 
 There was just sufficient light to disclose a recumbent 
 figure, stretched on a heap of rushes in the furthest corner. 
 An old woman raised herself as Sorcha approached. 
 
 "Is it thou, Sorcha Ni-Faolain?" she exclaimed. "I 
 have longed for the sight of thee. My bones ache worse 
 than ever. I can do nought but think of the kingdom." 
 
 Opening a small leather satchel, Sorcha took from it 
 various liniments with rolls of cloth ; then turning to the 
 woman's daughter, she gave directions how these were to be 
 applied. She then took out a book, whose leaves of vellum 
 were protected by polished wooden covers. 
 
 " I shall read to thee," she said ; " but I would fain sit in 
 the doorway for the sake of the light." 
 
 The invalid's eyes glittered at these words. A small three- 
 legged stool was placed for Sorcha's accommodation, and a 
 little company soon collected outside the house, composed 
 chiefly of women and boys. Sorcha opened the volume, 
 whilst a number of tangled shocks, representing heads, 
 were pressed eagerly over her shoulders to catch a glimpse 
 of it. 
 
 It seemed to these simple souls like a work of magic that 
 those clear beautiful signs, traced by the maiden's own hand, 
 should reveal to her their hidden meaning so easily. They 
 could have bent their knees to her in worship ; she seemed to 
 possess the endowments of another sphere. 
 
 Sorcha's sweet tones were soon heard, lending deep pathos 
 to the predictions of Isaiah, and from these gliding easily to 
 the wondrous story of the Crucifixion. All held their breath, 
 and the woman within groaned and sighed whilst Sorcha 
 repeated one after another those warm invitations which a 
 loving God addresses to the repentant sinner. 
 
 11 
 
146 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 Her eyes closed as she uttered the language of prayer. A 
 deep peace fell on all around her, and a deep solemnity too, 
 for it seemed as if the gracious Being who had uttered these 
 promises were Himself standing in the midst of them. 
 When Sorcha had finished, she approached the invalid. 
 
 The woman held her hand. " Come again soon," she 
 murmured. " It seems as if the Lord had sent His angel, 
 as He once did to Peter. I, too, have come out of a prison 
 house. Thou hast given me a glimpse of the home beyond 
 this darkness.'' 
 
 Sorcha pressed her hand warmly. " Thou art perhaps 
 inore to be envied than I am," she said. " Thou art nearer 
 the Great City — the road is shorter for thee.'' 
 
 " And wherever thou art," said the woman, "my blessing 
 will follow thee. For how should I have known His words 
 if thou hadst not read them? The young ones go to the 
 preaching, but what they tell me is always at second-hand ; 
 thou hast let me hear His own very words." 
 
 Sorcha left the hovel. The women curtseyed, the small 
 children stood back respectfully, gaziug at her with finger in 
 mouth, and a world of wondering awe in their blue eyes. 
 But for a moment only was this demeanour maintained. 
 Pressing forward, they assailed her at once with a hundred 
 questions, and some actually laid their brown hands on her 
 arm as if to detain her. 
 
 "I will return to-morrow afternoon," said Sorcha. "I 
 must hasten homewards, for work awaits me. Your hus- 
 band's dinner will be spoiled if you linger." 
 
 The women fell back at once. Some few children con- 
 tinued, however, to hang about Sorcha's skirts, running a 
 few yards before her, and hovering like gnats round a hazel 
 bush. Sorcha walked forward quickly, smiling in spite of 
 herself. 
 
 A tall figure suddenly emerged from behind the projecting 
 eave of a cottage. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 147 
 
 Sorcha shrank back. She at once recognised Ardal, who 
 had been a silent listener to her reading. 
 
 The young bishop had come there on a similar errand. 
 He had visited a sick man, and had made arrangements to 
 hold an open-air meeting on the following evening, if the 
 weather should prove fine. Not wishing to disturb the 
 women in their morning duties, he had been on the point of 
 returning to Ardmore, when his attention had been arrested 
 by the sound of Sorcha's voice. He had crept stealthily 
 near, so as to avoid disturbing her audience, and had stood 
 hidden behind a mud wall in a position where he could see 
 everything without being observed. 
 
 It was a striking picture which met his eye. The fair 
 young girl in her black mantle bordered with blue and 
 green tartan, her sweet face flushed with intense enthusiasm, 
 and the yearnings of her spiritual nature shining forth in a 
 tender pity from her dark lustrous eyes, seated against the 
 dingy wall amidst a flock of unwashed savages, might wel) 
 have seemed to a duller fancy than Ardal's like a visitant 
 from another sphere. Ardal had seen holy maidens in other 
 lands. He had watched them closely, where, shrouded in 
 sepulchral black, the charm of their countenances toned 
 away by ghastly linen bands, they had glided about silently 
 ministering to the wretched and the depraved. He knew 
 that then: feet were blessed on such errands ; he had read 
 whole histories of self-renunciation and devotion in their 
 pale faces. But theirs had been a ministry which claimed 
 recognition; there was a humility in it, no doubt, but it 
 lacked the charm of unconsciounsess ; and though he had 
 heard many sweet things from their lips, he had never 
 before witnessed that utter oblivion of self which comes to 
 all who strive to utter fully the sublime language of Scrip- 
 ture. Sorcha was simply, naturally graceful ; she did not 
 try to hide her beauty. Whatever attraction was in it was 
 made subservient to the work of saving souls. She was ai 
 
148 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOBE. 
 
 ambassador from heaven as much as was the archangel 
 Gabriel ; yet she was a very real woman withal, and the 
 dew of her message seemed to gather added sweetness 
 by being distilled through the fragrance of her very being. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 Whilst Sorcha visited Clashmore, Grainne sat in loving con- 
 sultation with her mother at the cottage door. There was a 
 parchment on the old lady's knee, but it had rolled itself up, 
 and the sunshine drew an actual glitter from the smooth 
 braids of her hair. The fire of a youthful spirit sparkled in 
 her aged eyes, and her face was overspread by a sweet peace- 
 fulness that made it really beautiful. 
 
 Grainne' was looking serious, but not sad. Her manner to 
 her mother was marked by a tender affection, very different 
 from the air of calm dignity which she maintained to the rest 
 of her fellow creatures. There were depths of love in Grainne' s 
 nature, but the outlet to these was often concealed, as is the 
 surface of some riverine lake by the wealth of vegetation 
 which seems to choke it. Grainne^ had many other qualities 
 wherewith to attract admiration. Thus it was only at 
 moments like the present that the full richness of her nature 
 could be detected. She looked queenly, yet she looked 
 womanly, as she sat beside Amada on that calm July 
 morning. 
 
 " Where are thy grey hairs, mother ? " she asked playfully. 
 " Sorcha says thou hast a few, but thou art fain to brush 
 them below the brown ones. I fear lest thou give us a lesson 
 in vanity." 
 
 Amada laughed. " Cacht says," she replied, " that I shall 
 see a hundred summers." 
 
 " Then I hope thou wilt not spend them here," said Gramne\ 
 
150 THE BRIDES OP AKDMORE. 
 
 " Thou must know my boys ; I would fain have brought the 
 two elder ones with me, but Obud would not hear of their 
 leaving school. Unless thou try to visit us, thou and they 
 must remain strangers." 
 
 " I should like nothing better," replied Amada. " But I am 
 frailer than thou thinkest. I feel the worse of being at that 
 meeting yesterday. And what should we do with Sorcha ? " 
 
 " She might stay with Ita till thy return," said Grainne. 
 " She would consider it a waste of time to visit us for as long 
 as we should like to have thee." 
 
 " But suppose I were to take ill," persisted Amada. " The 
 poor girl would be much distressed, and she could not well 
 travel to us alone." 
 
 "We must trust in Providence somewhat," replied Grainne. 
 " Moriath used to lecture thee, mother, for looking so much 
 at the dark side of things. Thy face always bewray eth thy 
 speech." 
 
 " Alas, my child !" replied Amada; " it is well to talk thus 
 when thy limbs are supple. Poor Moriath! Sorcha is growing 
 liker her every day, and I am troublesome, and she is used 
 with me. No, Grainne^ much as I would like to see the dear 
 children, I must never be away from Sorcha." 
 
 " Thou art perhaps right," said Grainnd, sighing. " We 
 think of sending the elder boys to Lismore next year, and 
 that was partly the reason of our coming here. We thought 
 thou mightest have influence with some one who would pro- 
 cure them admittance." 
 
 Amada looked grave. " I will speak frankly," she said. 
 " The abbot has not been quite so friendly as he might have 
 been, considering that he is Sorcha's natural guardian. I 
 believe he is a good man, but I would as soon eat a crab apple 
 as ask him for a favour." 
 
 " Olrud will never manage it," said Grainne. " There is 
 a prejudice against him for his Danish birth. And it would 
 scarcely be fair to make use of Sorcha. Many who might do 
 
THE BEIDES OF ABDMORE. 151 
 
 it for the sake of Mael-Patrick's daughter would wish that the 
 favour had been more personal to herself. Could Maidoc not 
 help us ? " 
 
 " I fear he hath not much influence," replied Amada. 
 " The abbot has the right of naming some scholars, bat he 
 will wish to keep it for those connected with Ardmore." 
 
 " Naturally," said Grainne. " My children would have a 
 different stamp if they studied at Lismore ; for though the 
 place is now overrun with Eomish rites, the teaching of the 
 new doctrines has not yet penetrated into the class-rooms. 
 And my boys are not fools ; Eossa is sure to win anything he 
 sets his mind on — no one need be ashamed to recommend 
 him. I am amazed to see how little their father can do for 
 them at Inisfallen." 
 
 Amada was silent. She knew the reason, but was too 
 prudent to mention it. 
 
 " Olrud hath had a hard struggle lately," continued Grainne, 
 "because of his interference with the observance of Beltain. 
 He saith that the bonfires which are kindled before dawn on 
 every hill-top are but a remnant of the old sun-worsbip. And 
 he fought hard about a poor bull which his cousin, the 
 Erenach, was about to drive through the flames. I know not 
 if it was so much on account of the animal's suffering as 
 because of the insult offered to its Creator." 
 The great silver bell gave several peals. 
 " I must leave thee now," said Grainne, " as it is dinner- 
 time. Sorcha is surely late in coming. But if thou wilt 
 send Cacht to the refectory I shall look to thy wants." 
 
 The noon-day meal was finished, yet there were no tidings 
 of Sorcha. Grainne' thought it very imprudent in her to stay 
 away so long ; but Amada was not in the least distressed. 
 
 " There may be some one ill at Clashmore," she said. 
 " Sorcha would not for the world leave if she could be of any 
 use. She will easily get some rye bread and milk. I would 
 not trouble myself about her." 
 
152 THE BRIDES OP AKDMORE. 
 
 " Where is Fergus to-day ? " asked Grainne. " We missed 
 him in the refectory," 
 
 "He is preaching at Youghal," replied Amada. "He 
 hovers about here in the mornings after Sorcha, I fancy." 
 
 " Wouldst thou give her to him ? " asked Grainne. 
 
 "I would," replied Amada. "He would make a kind 
 husband, for all he's so restless. It would give Sorcha a 
 settled position, and she is just the wife to suit him." 
 
 Grainne shrugged her shoulders. " I have no wish to in- 
 terfere/' she said ; " but I trust thou wilt not say much to 
 influence her. Let the girl have leisure to make up her own 
 mind." 
 
 "And who says she will not have it?" inquired Amada, 
 rather nettled. 
 
 " No one," replied the politic Grainne^ " But if thou 
 wishest it, thou shouldst say as little as thou canst. Thy 
 doing so might set her against him. A girl brought up as 
 Sorcha has been is apt to prize her freedom." 
 
 " I might have learnt that from thee," replied Amada, 
 looking archly at her. " Thou wouldst take neither hint 
 nor guidance." 
 
 Grainne's eyelids fell for a moment, whilst the faintest 
 suspicion of a sigh shook her breast. It was happily inaudible 
 to her mother. 
 
 " Now as things have turned out," continued Amada, " I 
 
 cannot wish them otherwise. I have got reconciled to 
 
 him," she whispered. " He's a sterling man, there's no doubt 
 of that, and thou mightest have done worse." 
 
 " Let us speak of something else," said the cautious 
 Grainne. "I see Olrud coming through the gate." 
 
 Her husband advanced with long strides. His brow was 
 darker than usual. 
 
 "Hath Sorcha returned?" he inquired. 
 
 " Not yet," replied Grainne\ " My mother says we need 
 not be anxious, as the maiden is in great request at Clashmore. 
 
THE BKIDES OP ARDMOKE. 153 
 
 The poor people hang on her lips more than on many a 
 bishop's. I don't mean anything personal of course." 
 
 " That may be," said Olrud. " But it is a long way for her 
 to walk home. I highly approve of her reading the Word to 
 those who have not the key of it. and who may by such means 
 be initiated into the mystery of godliness. I would en- 
 courage her to attend to the sick, if she have the skill of a 
 wise physician ; but I would hardly let her go so far alone. 
 "We have our Blessed Lord's sanction for His messengers 
 working in couples." 
 
 " It might be more prudent," said Amada. " The abbot's 
 daughter goes also on missions of mercy. I have often 
 wondered that the two could not work together." 
 
 " I shall set forth to meet her," said Olrud. " And per- 
 chance a door of utterance may be opened to me ; so that her 
 visit may bring a double blessing to the village. I may thus 
 also show that her conduct has the seal of my approval." 
 
 " Thou speakest wisely," said Grainne. " I counsel thee, 
 therefore, not to be too slow of movement. I would fain touch 
 Sorcha's harp," she continued, turning to Amada, " and raise 
 for thee Olrud' s favourite lay. It is a gem from the Welsh 
 bard Taliessin, and has kept its worth for more than five 
 hundred years." 
 
 Grainne's deep voice soon rung out : 
 
 " Woe be to that priest yborn, 
 That will not cleanly weed his corn, 
 < And preach his charge among. 
 
 " Woe be to that shepherd, I say, 
 That will not watch bis flock alway, 
 As to his office doth belong : 
 
 "Woe be' to him that doth not keep 
 From Romish wolves his sheep, 
 With staff and weapon strong." * 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 Ardal O'Brien was the more ready to appreciate the excel- 
 lence of Sorcha's character, that he was conscious of no 
 selfish wishes whilst watching her. He had gained a thorough 
 mastery over himself. 
 
 Sorcha received his greeting timidly. She was somewhat in 
 awe of him, his superior sanctity and learning making him 
 appear to her unapproachable. She esteemed it an honour 
 even to attract his notice. 
 
 " Thou art going homewards," he said. " I have heard thee 
 say so ; I, too, am bound for Ardmore.'' 
 
 Sorcha smiled. They had struck into the forest path, and 
 he was walking quietly by her side. The children had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Ardal was now ready to blame himself. He began to fear 
 for his newly-found peace. Why could he not have turned 
 into another path ? This maiden was about to become the 
 spouse of another, andit was a transparent fiction that he owed 
 her the slight civility of an escort. 
 
 His presence had no disturbing effect on Sorcha. Her 
 mind had been calmed and soothed by religious exercises ; 
 the all-engrossing image of Fergus was obliterated for the 
 moment. She thought only of her high privilege in being 
 permitted to associate with an eminent scholar. 
 
 " 1 trust thy grandmother is well," said Ardal. " I have 
 seen less of her than I could wish, but I have feared to in- 
 trude, seeing she hath so many friends. She is a lady who is 
 much beloved." 
 
THE BB1DES OF ABDMOBE. 155 
 
 " In truth she is," replied Sorcha. " Many of us wish that 
 our old age may be like hers. She was at the assembly on 
 Declan's birthday, and though she could not hear the dis- 
 cussion, she was deeply interested in it.' 7 
 
 " The little I have heard her say on Church matters," said 
 Ardal, " proved to me that she understood them. She would 
 have no compromise with the new prelates, I think.'' 
 
 " No," replied Sorcha, with an amused smile. " If she had 
 her way, not one of them should ever plant his foot on Irish 
 ground." 
 
 " That is somewhat my own feeling," said ArdaL " There 
 are good men amongst them, whose very virtues give a sanc- 
 tion to the covetous ones. England owes much to Arch- 
 bishop Theobald ; but the most of her bishops are less like him 
 than like Eoger of Salisbury. The system encourages clerical 
 jride, and we have enough of that without it." 
 
 " No Church has ever been free from it,'' remarked 
 Sorcha. 
 
 " No," said Ardal. " The sword of truth which our 
 Saviour brought must ever struggle against indwelling cor- 
 ruption, even in the hearts of believers. When there is no 
 conflict, truth must be slumbering. And the very ripest fruit 
 is in most danger of rottenness." 
 
 " True,'' replied Sorcha; "but in this case the difficulty 
 seems to be to determine on which side the corruption lies. 
 My uncle, Bishop Olrud, is very angry at the view taken by 
 Bishop O'Flannahan.'' 
 
 Ardal started. He gazed at Sorcha ; but could not detect 
 the faintest trace of a blush on her cheek. Yet she avoided 
 encountering his glance, and went on speaking rapidly. 
 
 " Bishop Olrud thinks there is danger in too much seek- 
 ing after beauty in worship. He is not sure of Bishop 
 O'Flannahan's soundness. "What sayest thou ? " 
 
 Sorcha looked up this time half timidly, half inquiringly. 
 She was groping in the dark for some answer to a question 
 
156 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 •which she dare not put directly to her companion. Ardal 
 might well he puzzled. His sense of honour made him 
 shrink from saying anything that would shake her faith in 
 his rival. 
 
 "lam not sure that I understand thy meaning," he said, 
 evasively. 
 
 " Well," said Sorcha, " I cannot tell if Olrud quarrels with 
 Fergus' creed ; hut he thinks that his tastes have placed him 
 on a slippery incline. If we are to copy anything at all from 
 the Eoman ritual — finer music, Latin prayers, or a higher 
 style of church architecture — we might be led to substitute 
 these for true heart-worship. Our teachers till now have tried 
 to make us realise the unseen, and he fears that Fergus wishes 
 us to walk more by sight." 
 
 " One might have gathered that from his speech," replied 
 Ardal. " Olrud and Fergus belong by nature to two very 
 different schools of thought. One could wish that they might 
 make a little exchange of attributes. Olrud generally reasons 
 correctly, but he has a dry forbidding way of stating his 
 views ; and Fergus is wonderfully eloquent — dost thou not 
 think so?" 
 
 "He is," replied Sorcha; "but if he has taken up wrong 
 opinions, will they not be the more dangerous ? " 
 
 Ardal gave a deep sigh, as if trying to relieve himself of an 
 oppressive burden. Sorcha interpreted this sigh as an ex- 
 pression of grief at his colleague's deficiencies ; whereas it 
 was, in truth, a rolling away of something which had lain 
 very heavily on his spirits. Had she ventured to look up, 
 she would have seen that his eyes were sparkling with joyful 
 hope. 
 
 They were now stepping on to the bridge over the gleaming 
 river. To Sorcha, as she crossed it, came the satisfaction of 
 a decision. All exertions of our will are invigorating to the 
 moral nature, and Sorcha felt both braver and happier as 
 she resolved to shako herself free from a tormenting delusion. 
 
THE BE1DES OF AEDMOBE. 157 
 
 Fergus might possibly be sincere in regard to herself, but she 
 would never place herself in a position where she would be 
 closely connected with possible error. Her companion had 
 said little ; but he had not uttered one word in depreciation 
 of Olrud's judgment. 
 
 The two were soon far into the depths of the wood. Not a 
 sound could be heard save the occasional rustle of a bough 
 beneath the squirrel's tread, or the faint trickle of some un- 
 seen brooklet. Their very footfalls were noiseless on the soft 
 turf. 
 
 The tide of feeling was rising in Ardal's breast. There 
 was nothing to check it, no sense of honour towards a brother 
 bishop, no constraint from the presence of spectators. She 
 was walking by his side, she whose form had mingled with his 
 day-dreams of earthly felicity. The enchanting vision had 
 come close to him, more dazzling even than in his loneliness. 
 It seemed within his grasp ; should he put out his hand to 
 take it ? 
 
 Yet he feared to do so. There was something so immacu- 
 late in her unconsciousness ; it seemed like crushing a rose to 
 feel the scent more keenly. The rose had thorns all around 
 it ; and in the very act of coming nearer he might be banished 
 to a distance. Might not the palace which his fancy had 
 erected crumble at the first touch of reality ? 
 
 He walked on silently, struggling with his hesitation. 
 Sorcha's spirits were, however, rising. " I think,'' she said, 
 " that we are very fortunate in having been born at this epoch. 
 The study of the inspired record is, thou sayest, dying out 
 over Europe. How happy it has made us ! giving us a trea- 
 sure in this life, with the means of helping others to share it. 
 Will it not be a privilege, too, if we have to fight for the 
 liberty of thinking ? There would have been no need for us 
 to have done so had we been born earlier.'' 
 
 Ardal felt grateful to her for suggesting some topic of 
 speech. Yet he answered almost mechanically, for, dear as 
 
158 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 the topic was, there was something almost dearer which he 
 could not touch on. 
 
 "If many thought as thou dost," he answered, " it would 
 be a privilege ; but yet I fear we are on the losing side." 
 Sorcha started, and looked at him in vacant wonder. 
 " I do not mean," he said, quietly, " that the right will not 
 one day prevail. God's decrees cannot be altered, and thou 
 knowest that He has told us of a time when we shall not need 
 even to teach each other. But hast thou watched the ebb and 
 flow of the ocean ? There are times when the advancing tide 
 appears to recede with some large retiring billow. God's 
 providence moves in cycles which we cannot measure ; and I 
 believe that the Christian world is just now on the receding 
 wave. Erin will go with it, and will awake just when she°is 
 sucked down into a whirlpool." 
 
 " Why thihkest thou so ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " The force against us is so strong," replied Ardal ; " and 
 we are divided both in heart and mind. Hast thou read about 
 the early ' takings ' of Erin ? Each set of invaders found the 
 natives at war with each other. That lies in the Celtic charac- 
 ter, and Eome is skilful to take advantage of this weakness." 
 
 "That is true," replied Sorcha, thoughtfully. "Still I 
 cannot imagine how, with the Bible so much studied amongst 
 us, it can be possible for us to agree to the worship of images. 
 Might we not say, with King Cormac, that it were more 
 reasonable to reverence the mechanic who made them ? " 
 
 " Foreign help may be called in," replied Ardal. 
 
 " I know it," said Sorcha ; " Olrud told us that thou hadst 
 mentioned to him about the Pope having given us to the King 
 of England. My grandmother thinks it nonsense. 
 
 " Would that it were so ! " replied Ardal. '' I was told of 
 it by a French prelate. He and I had waxed hot in argument, 
 and had perhaps lost our tempers. So, as a farewell comfort, 
 he told me that the Papal Curia were counting on a sure victory 
 over us by this means." 
 
THE BRIDES OP AKDMOBE. 159 
 
 '* How dreadful !" exclaimed Sorcha. "But will not all 
 Irishmen rise in defence of their chiefs ? " 
 
 Ardal shrugged his shoulders. "Have the chiefs ever 
 united in defence of anything," he asked, " save when my 
 ancestor Brian welded them together by sheer force ? Me- 
 thinks that civil liberty hath no lasting existence unless liberty 
 of conscience come first, and thou knowest how these new 
 prelates have worked on some of our bishops to vote our 
 liberties away. That was done at Bathbresail." 
 
 " But when they see what use is being made of their com- 
 pliance, will they not be roused ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " I fear not," replied Ardal. " Our system of Church 
 government hath been too long an oligarchy. Men become 
 bishops as a matter of secular wisdom, not because they have 
 heard the Spirit's call. Such will always yield to temptation 
 when an increase of power or wealth is offered them. Bome 
 knows how to bait her hooks. The doctrine of purgatory is to 
 her priests a mine of wealth. 
 
 " It is no easy thing to be a bishop," he continued. " Self- 
 seeking comes to us in a thousand shapes. Methinks we 
 ought to be like the transparent crystals of our own mountains ; 
 having no colour in ourselves, always ready to reflect the 
 light of heaven, and shining all the more brightly for every 
 hard rub we get in the world." 
 
 A thought flashed on the young man's mind as he spoke 
 these words. Should he not put an end to this state of un- 
 certainty ? If he did get a rebuff, would it not come as one of 
 the rubs he had spoken of ? "Without being aware of it, he 
 walked a little closer to Sorcha. 
 
 She stood suddenly still. The path before them ran down- 
 wards ; and presented a monotonous vista of tree-stems, and 
 dark foliage, relieved only by the tbin green line of turf which 
 formed the foot- track. Sorcha turned half round. Her com- 
 panion moved further off. He feared he had offended her. 
 
 Yet he could not withdraw his eyes. She was grand in her 
 
160 THE BBIDES OP AEDMOBE. 
 
 loveliness, like a spreading tree which ravishes our eyes in its 
 graceful dignity. She placed her finger upon her lip, and 
 her brown eyes seemed to grow larger. Ardal felt relieved 
 when she broke silence. 
 
 " I fear we have mistaken our path," she said. " I see no 
 sign of the brook." 
 
 " Is that possible ! " he replied with a smile. " I was trust- 
 ing to thy guidance. Is there no mark by which thou canst 
 discover the way back ? " 
 
 " Let us turn," said Sorcha, " and perhaps I may see some 
 familiar object. I have been very stupid, but methought thou 
 knewest the way." 
 
 " The fault was mine," replied Ardal. "It is awkward to 
 get into the depths of these forests. If we can only recollect 
 something we have passed, we may at length perceive an 
 outlet." 
 
 He saw little prospect of this, even while he spoke. He 
 had been far too much engrossed in seeking an outlet to his 
 feelings. 
 
 Sorcha now walked more rapidly, scanning every mossy 
 stem as she passed it. She was soon obliged, however, to 
 moderate her pace. Her companion had no motive for 
 haste. 
 
 " Thou hast spoken frankly about Fergus," he said at length. 
 " I hardly thought thou wouldst have noticed his mental 
 tendencies. Thou dost not consider him a model bishop ? " 
 
 " Who is ? " asked Sorcha, naively. 
 
 " No one," replied Ardal, " can well lay claim to the title. 
 Yet some, methinks, are more conscious of their responsi- 
 bilities than others." 
 
 "Maidoc, for instance," suggested Sorcha. 
 
 " Yes, Maidoc," replied Ardal. "I esteem his friendship one 
 of the greatest privileges of my life. And Ita's too. But 
 Maidoc has not the opportunities for leading that Fergus has. 
 I must confess I did not think thee so penetrating, more espe- 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 161 
 
 cially as I have reason to believe that Fergus cherishes a 
 warm regard for thee." 
 
 Sorcha's step slackened. She felt the colour mounting to 
 her temples. 
 
 " I am perhaps intrusive," continued Ardal, " but I fancied 
 that Fergus stood in a relation to thee which would prevent 
 thy judging of his pastoral influence." 
 
 Ardal's voice was soft and penetrating: it was like the 
 voice of conscience. Sorcha had a sense of guilt in her 
 heart : she dared not look up. 
 
 " Hath he spoken to thee of love ? " inquired Ardal, relent- 
 lessly. 
 
 Sorcha covered her eyes with her hand, which was, like 
 her cheek, overspread with a delicate pink colour. This was 
 far worse than confessing to Maidoc. She stood in great awe 
 of Ardal, and somehow or other she fancied that his office 
 gave him a right to probe her secret purposes. The native 
 sincerity of her character forced her to an avowal. 
 
 " He has, but not definitely," she answered. " At least," 
 she continued, stammering, "I mean " 
 
 Ardal was too noble to profit by her confusion. " I have 
 no right to ask any questions," he said, "save one, and that 
 is simple. Dost thou return his love ? " 
 
 Sorcha half turned away. She was not aware that they 
 had come to a stand. " I cannot tell," she replied, in a clear, 
 low voice. " If I do, it is not warmly." 
 
 The young bishop seized her left hand so impetuously that 
 she shrunk back in surprise. " Then listen to me," he said, 
 " ere thou decidest. I love thee too, Sorcha ! " 
 
 He let go her hand, for he feared to frighten her. She 
 turned pale, and leant against a tree-stem for support. 
 
 But it was only for an instant. The colour rushed back to 
 her cheek and neck ; yet the long- fringed eyelids still drooped. 
 There was a wild throbbing at her heart ; she needed time to 
 
 12 
 
162 THE BKIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 collect herself. Ardal retired a few paces, and then stole 
 noiselessly back. 
 
 Sorcha was indeed overwhelmed with surprise. The dis- 
 closure had come very suddenly, with the force of a long 
 dammed-up cataract. A few hours ago she had longed to 
 hear such words from Fergus ; now they had been spoken 
 by other lips with an intensity which left no doubt of their 
 significance. Her mind almost failed to grasp the magnitude 
 of the prize now placed before her. Not merely the love of a 
 strong, true man, but the warm, self-denying devotion of one 
 whom she had imagined far above her. She trembled at the 
 thought of her own un worthiness. 
 
 Then she glanced timidly up. Her eyes had the dark 
 beauty of the fawn's, seeking to shrink from the sunlight. 
 Her right hand moved slightly forward. Ardal was not slow 
 to touch it. 
 
 "I will not press for an answer," he said. "Forgive me 
 for being so sudden. I would never have breathed -it did I 
 believe thou hadst any love for Fergus." 
 
 Sorcha looked up again : this time straight at him. The 
 whole force of her soul seemed to go out in the glance of 
 those clear, brown eyes. But again they drooped, and she 
 blushed deeply. 
 
 " It is unfair of me," said Ardal, " to take this advantage 
 when we are alone. Something impelled me to utter it ; the 
 thought, perhaps, that I may soon be sent to some distant 
 town. "Wilt thou walk on ?" 
 
 He offered his arm, and Sorcha took it. There was some- 
 thing in her manner of doing so that implied trust. She 
 looked like a slender rosebush clinging to the stem of a 
 sturdy oak. 
 
 And Ardal was supremely happy in supporting her gentle 
 weight. They did not speak for many minutes. Each was 
 oppressed with a new consciousness — he with the bliss of her 
 presence, a bliss that might prove all too fleeting ; she with 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 163 
 
 an intensity of happiness which she was really making an 
 effort to conceal. 
 
 Ardal knew that these . moments would be a cherished 
 remembrance all his lifetime, a remembrance which would 
 nerve him to new effort. He felt that he had won her esteem, 
 even if she should will to be another's. She seemed a treasure 
 $00 great for his deserts. He must enjoy this moment, for 
 it might never again recur. And the strong man's arm 
 trembled. 
 
 Whither were they going ? Sorcha could not have told. 
 Her feet hardly seemed to touch the ground. Her body 
 might have been hovering, as well as her spirit, in those high 
 regions which extend somewhere above this lower scene, and 
 have no necessary connection with the trodden turf of a wild 
 forest. She was in a new world. All the instincts and long- 
 ings of her heart were being satisfied in a way that she could 
 never have dreamed of. He was walking by her side, the one 
 who fulfilled her high ideal of manliness, and whom it would 
 be an honour to help in the most blessed of all vocations ; 
 one to whom, without hurting her conscience, she might well 
 be subject in everything. The very depth of her affectionate 
 reverence made her fear to express it. She did not doubt 
 that he knew it, and never once fancied that her silence 
 could be construed into hesitation. 
 
 So they walked on. Sorcha released her hold a little ; she 
 thought herself too much of a burden. Ardal was surely not 
 so strong as he looked. She stole a half glance at his hand. 
 It trembled, too. 
 
 "Is there anything wrong?" she asked in a low, soft 
 whisper. 
 
 " Have I offended thee ? " he said in return, not without a 
 quiver. 
 
 Sorcha looked straight up, and this time Ardal under- 
 stood her. 
 
 It was sunset ere they reached Ardmore. There are some 
 
164 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 days so bright as to efface all recollection of a hundred cloudy 
 ones that have gone before. It is a happy instinct of our 
 nature to be impressed by these, and to treasure them up so 
 as to extract sunshine from their images in the midst of after 
 darkness. Such a day had been this one. 
 
CHAPTEB XVII. 
 
 The lovers were walking slowly homeward, having at length 
 discovered the right path. They were making devious ways 
 for themselves in order to prolong the sweet interchange of 
 thought and feeling which had followed the mutual disclosure. 
 They heeded not that the sun was now near the horizon ; in- 
 deed, the first tints of his setting were hidden by the leafy 
 canopy overhead. The straight towering pine-stems were, 
 however, touched by a yellow radiance, and the foxglove 
 bells were drooping and closing as if preparing for a long 
 rest. Sorcha was looking up, replying to some playful remark 
 of her lover's, when she noticed his eyebrows suddenly drawn 
 together. Glancing forward, she beheld a singular spectacle. 
 
 They were approaching the brink of a well-known pond, a 
 few yards removed from the direct road betwixt Ardmore and 
 Clashmore. 
 
 Its surface seemed to heave as they drew near, and from 
 beneath a mass of yellow floating vegetation emerged a figure 
 of uncouth aspect. 
 
 Its form was human, though bent and twisted in so many 
 ways as to be scarcely discernible. It rather appeared like a 
 bundle of dripping cow- skins, loosely tied together, above 
 which gleamed a visage encircled by grey masses of tangled, 
 shaggy hair. Its wildly rolling eyes glittered as with unearthly 
 brightness. 
 
 Sorcha, shuddering, clung closely to the arm of her lover. 
 
 The figure shook itself ; then lifting a bony finger, furnished 
 with bird-like claws, pealed out in a deep, sepulchral voice — 
 
166 THE BRIDES OP ABDMOKE. 
 
 " Let the butterfly sport in the morning-beam ; but beware 
 lest the water-drop strike it. The cloud gathereth in the 
 east ; it draweth nigh. I, even I, feel the wind that 
 heraldeth its approach. The maiden leaneth on a rotten 
 branch ; it will break, and leave her wounded." 
 
 Sorcha recovered her spirits while the man spoke. She 
 recognised Phelim O'Bric, one of that race of hermits who 
 were revered by the common people as saints. 
 
 His history had been a strange one. Trained at Ardmore 
 for the episcopal office, he had, through the study of Jerome's 
 writings, become violently enamoured of the ascetic life. 
 Fired with the ambition of obtaining in the other world a 
 glory superior to that of his fellows, he had left untried no 
 means of subduing his unhappy body, and of bringing it into 
 subjection to its more ethereal partner. The story of his 
 nightly vigils, when a mere boy, was never related to mortal 
 man. He had made great progress in sanctification, if not in 
 learning, at the time when the fair Moriath settled at Ard- 
 more. Then a form stepped between his mental eye and the 
 Sun of his self-attributed holiness. It was that of Cacht, the 
 comely girl, who had left her kinsfolk to wait upon Amada. 
 He would wake from his dreams of her to plunge into the 
 cold waters of the Brie, and torture his poor brains to do 
 impossible tasks in the way of learning. But, like the devil, 
 came the pictured image of the maiden across his meditations. 
 She seemed present with him even when she was effectually 
 screened from view in the scullery outside of the little cottage. 
 The conflict with her apparition, or perhaps the effect of so 
 many adverse influences on his physical organisation, un- 
 hinged his mind, and drove him forth from the society of his 
 fellow-men. 
 
 He had now for years dwelt in a cave on the face of a cliff 
 overlooking the sea, impossible of approach save by a basket 
 let down from above. Here, by the abbot's order, he was 
 supplied with provisions; but unless these were of a kind 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 167 
 
 which others would have deemed only fit for swine, he had a 
 persistent habit of pitching them into the waves, and starving 
 until a supply of commoner victuals was provided for him. 
 It was one of the chief pleasures of the Ardmore schoolboys 
 to be present at the letting down of his basket. 
 
 Only one man had ever entered his cave. There were 
 sights in it, indeed, which few could have seen with a cahn 
 pulse. Driven, through the effect of mortification, from its 
 bent towards heavenly things, his mind had turned aside to 
 seek communion with the hidden powers of nature ; not 
 simply as they exist in a thousand beneficent forms, but as 
 they have throughout all ages been fabled as in partial league 
 with the powers of darkness. For him a pulse beat in every 
 tree ; the spirit of a Tuath-de-Danaan rode on every wind ; 
 and round every oak the fallen Druids circled in moonlight 
 revel. Phelim became skilled in tracking the noiseless step 
 of disease to some devilish plotting ; and he actually longed 
 to hold communion with that dark prince whose mighty 
 heart seemed to vibrate under the ground, in order to coax 
 from him secrets whose unveiling might teach mortals to 
 avoid his snares. He, Phelim, had been commissioned by 
 heaven to this work. 
 
 Cacht was quite aware of the influence she had exercised 
 over him. Nevertheless she had considered it no part of her 
 duty to retire from his view. On the contrary, she was as 
 often as not commissioned by the fathers of Ardmore to con- 
 vey to him his daily provender. They, as well as the country 
 people, were proud of Phelim. The abbot, Maidoc, and the 
 more enlightened bishops might well doubt if the example 
 were a profitable one. But even they could scarcely shake off 
 the universal feeling that he had some secret access into the 
 world of spirits. They desired his sanctification, and only 
 followed out an ancient Irish tradition in endeavouring to 
 promote it by forcing on him a sight of some of the tempta- 
 tions from which he had escaped. 
 
168 THE BKIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 Plielim had learnt to climb up his own cliff. How he 
 did so no mortal knew, but it must have been at the risk of 
 his life. The neglect of years had, however, made him so 
 repulsive an object that, however much of a saint he was 
 held to be when in his cave, his appearance out of it was felt 
 to bode no good to the beholder. Ardal and Sorcha there- 
 fore hastened away, and were even thankful when, on reach- 
 ing the gate of the rath, they perceived the dark figure of 
 Olrud advancing towards them with long strides. 
 
 Sorcha's head drooped as the foxglove's had done. She 
 felt her cheeks flushing as she clung closer to Ardal's arm. 
 She did not see the smile which illumined her uncle's face as 
 he came nearer. 
 
 "What is this ?" he cried. " I must scold thee, Bishop 
 Ardal, for stealing my niece." 
 
 " Thou, too, hast committed theft in thy time," replied 
 Ardal, laying his left hand affectionately on Sorcha's. 
 
 She, however, immediately slipped away, not liking the 
 scrutiny of her uncle's gaze. She escaped into the cottage, 
 where her rosy cheeks and dilated eyes told their own tale. 
 She threw herself kneeling on the little stool, and hid her 
 face on her grandmother's knee. 
 
 The old lady laughed ; but Grainne looked anxious. 
 "Is it settled now ? " she asked. " Has Fergus spoken ? " 
 
 " It is not Fergus," replied Sorcha. Her face now resembled 
 a pink flower trying vainly to hide its loveliness behind its 
 native screen of green leaves. They formed a striking pic- 
 ture. The old lady was bending forwards with curiosity 
 and affection on her speaking face ; the girl crouching at her 
 knee, an emblem of innocent purity, as if the shining crystals 
 had lingered on a fruit-laden bough to witness the budding 
 of the summer blossoms. "When Olrud and Ardal entered, 
 they could not help pausing to gaze on it. 
 
 Grainne' looked at the young bishop and so did Amada. 
 They were far from connecting his appearance with Sorcha's, 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOBE. 169 
 
 yet they wondered at Olrud's unusual cheerfulness. No one 
 spoke for a few minutes ; then Ardal stepped forward, and 
 placing his hand on Sorcha's shoulder, knelt beside her at 
 Amada's feet. 
 
 She comprehended in an instant. The rush of emotion 
 was almost too strong for her ; it recalled such vivid memo- 
 ries of the day when Mael-Patrick had claimed another of her 
 heart treasures. But she laid her withered hands on their 
 heads, and said in a trembling voice : 
 
 " The Lord of your fathers, the God of Patrick, of Bridget, 
 and of Declan, bless you both, and make your house like the 
 house of Bachel." 
 
 Sorcha kissed her cheek, and so did Ardal. " Thou dost 
 not grudge her to me," said the latter. " Olrud has called 
 me a thief, and I mean to be doubly so — I mean to steal 
 thee." 
 
 Grainne laughed. "That is hardly allowable," she said. 
 " Paul, I believe, limits the number to one." 
 
 " But our house must have a head," said Ardal. " I can 
 hardly feel where mine is at present, and I fear we shall both 
 come to grief if we have not some one over us. But has 
 Sorcha no other guardian ? " 
 
 " There is the abbot," suggested Grainne. 
 
 " I would not take him into account," said Amada. " He 
 has not been much of a father to Sorcha." 
 
 "Thou art wrong, mother," said Grainne. "It is an 
 ancient custom to ask an abbot's blessing when the maidens 
 of his family become spouses. It would be a very proper way 
 to make it public." 
 
 " My own feeling," said Ardal, " would be to acknowledge 
 the abbot's authority, but to present the matter to him as an 
 accomplished fact, for which his sanction is a mere form. I 
 would give neither to him nor the Lady Uailsi a right of 
 interference." 
 
 " I see not why the match should not please them," said 
 
170 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 Olrud. " It is most suitable in every respect. And I being 
 her uncle, her nearest male connection, who else dare venture 
 to judge it ? " 
 
 Amada and Grainne both smiled. " I will confess," said 
 the former, "as it is best to be truthful, that I had set my 
 mind on some one else." 
 
 Grainne tried in vain to look her disapproval. 
 
 " Because," continued the old lady, " there is no use in 
 claiming merit where I have none. I wished Sorcha to 
 marry Fergus, and I fear this will be a sore grief to him. 
 But I am just as well satisfied ; nay, I am fully more so.'' 
 
 " As thou shouldst be," interrupted Olrud. 
 
 " Stay ! " said Ardal, interrupting in his turn. " I would 
 fain hear it all." 
 
 " I am the more so," continued Amada, " because I believe 
 thou hast more conscience about making her happy. I have 
 not the shadow of a fear in giving her to thee. But it is 
 a surprise, and you must pardon me if I regret Fergus just a 
 little." 
 
 Grainne was now looking excessively annoyed. Ardal 
 noticed it, and taking Amada's hand, he said : 
 
 " I don't wonder, for he is a fine fellow in his way. But 
 thou seest that we must needs please Sorcha, and I have 
 no doubt of his finding some one to console him. With all 
 his quickness he was not quick enough. I have no doubt 
 but that thou wilt like me the better of the two in time." 
 
 " Thou art conceited," replied Amada, shaking her head 
 playfully. "And thou art just about as great a coax as 
 Sorcha is. I understand how thou hast got round her." 
 
 There was a general laugh, in which even Grainne had 
 to join. Sigurda now entered. Amada's eyes turned towards 
 her. 
 
 " Come here," she said, " and give a welcome to my new 
 grandson. I shall not say if I am pleased with him, but he 
 thinks he is the very best I could possibly have got." 
 
THE BETDES OF ABDMORE. 171 
 
 " I hope," Baid Olrud, " that you have both weighed well 
 the responsibilities you are about to undertake." 
 
 " And I hope," said Grainne, " that Sorcha has an un- 
 broken cake for us." 
 
 Grainne presided at the supper table. Amada was in 
 unusually high spirits, and indeed so was every one. Olrud 
 alone tried to put a restraint on their mirth He was afraid 
 of its appearing too boisterous. 
 
 The lovers' health having been drunk in red ale, they all 
 gathered in a circle round the hearth. Olrud took one of 
 Sorcha's beautiful manuscripts and began to read all Saint 
 Paul's injunctions to married couples. This would have been 
 felt to be appropriate had he confined himself to the inspired 
 words ; but the pure stream of apostolic utterance was made 
 not a little cloudy by the remarks which he threw into it. 
 He turned the most sublime truths inside out, and transposed 
 them in such a manner that his audience was only saved 
 from weariness by glancing at the happy faces of the 
 lovers. 
 
 Amada at length bestirred herself. " That is doubtless 
 very improving," she said, "but it is somewhat dull for me. 
 I would fain hear a prayer, and as I get so much benefit from 
 thee every night, I wish Ardal to come quite near me." 
 
 Amada's wishes were obeyed ; and all felt as if Ardal's 
 ministrations lifted them into a higher sphere. " Oh if he 
 were only like that," thought Grainne to herself; " but it is 
 my cross, and I must bear it." 
 
CHAPTER XVHI. 
 
 Sorcha awoke next morning free from care. She felt as if 
 few could be so favoured as herself in the blessings of Provi- 
 dence. " I have a good hope for both worlds," she thought ; 
 " a rich treasure of human affection besides the prospect of 
 an incorruptible inheritance. I shall be protected from life's 
 storms. My grandmother cannot be with me always in the 
 course of nature, yet I need not look forward with so much 
 dread to the day of her birth into glory. The parting can 
 only be for a short time at the longest, and my life will be full 
 of interest. Ardal will prove a better support in her declin- 
 ing years than any one she could have dreamt of. I almost feel 
 as if my parents were rejoicing in heaven over my happiness. 
 
 She dressed with alacrity, as if quickness of movement 
 would bring her nearer to the time when the one face which 
 floated before her mental vision would again appear. She 
 went out for the milk herself, the sleepy Cacht not being yet 
 stirring. 
 
 She flew like a fawn over the greensward. The very cows 
 turned round their sleek heads, as if they saw something new 
 about her, and the dairymaid chanted one of Columba's Irish 
 hymns whilst the milk went splashing into the pail. All nature 
 seemed to her pervaded with devout thankfulness, as if the 
 winds from Eden were again blowing, and man were on the 
 best of terms with his Maker. These feelings set a stamp 
 on Sorcba's happiness. Her love was not incompatible with 
 a deep spirituality ; it rather added new intensity to her 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 173 
 
 appreciation of the Creator's gifts. The sky had never looked 
 bluer, nor had the fleeting grey clouds which speckled it 
 assumed a more exquisite contour, than on the first morning 
 when she counted the minutes before meeting with her lover. 
 And it had been so unexpected I Only yesterday she had 
 been murmuring at the hardness of the task imposed on her in 
 being obliged to decide whether she could love or not. The 
 cup of joy had been prepared for her, and had been withheld 
 so long from her lips only that its taste might become sweeter. 
 It had surely been mixed by no careless hand. She knew 
 that the vows which awaited her were solemn ones, but were 
 they not symbolical of the mysteriously sublime union be- 
 tween the Heavenly Bridegroom and His ransomed people ? 
 " My own marriage feast will be but a faint foretaste of the 
 joy that awaits us beyond the grave," she thought. " I am 
 indeed thrice happy in having both the symbol and the 
 reality of such bliss." 
 
 Her eye fell on some withered branches that were lying 
 prone on the turf. " Dost thou not anticipate storms ? " they 
 seemed to say. " ye branches ! " replied Sorcha, " ye do 
 indeed look desolate with your yellow-spiked leaves and your 
 broken twigs. But if I am better than a sparrow, I am 
 certainly better than you. Troubles will come to me as the 
 curtain of darkness drops over the brightest sky; but I 
 shall have a strong arm to lean on, I shall have a true heart 
 to share life's griefs. The wind may blow bitterly, but I shall 
 have a refuge in my husband's love." 
 
 The thought of this possibility made her slacken her step. 
 She carried the heavy milk-can with an easy grace, yet it 
 almost dropped from her hand when she suddenly perceived 
 a pair of blue eyes peering very closely at her. She had for- 
 gotten that it was necessary to avoid encountering Fergus. 
 
 "At length," he said, "my eyes are refreshed. The 
 fairies have returned to their wonted circuit. I was blaming 
 myself for having broken their ring." 
 
174 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 Soroha drew herself back with dignity. She bade him a 
 courteous good morning. Her eyelids did not droop. 
 
 He offered to share her burden, smiling confidently as he 
 did so. " Thou hast no right to be so beautiful," he said ; 
 "thou hast taken more than thy share from others." 
 
 The words were lightly spoken, but they were accompanied 
 by an expressive glance. She had been flattered by such 
 compliments before. Now her spirit met them with a strange 
 repulsion. 
 
 " I am something more than a fairy," she said, tartly. 
 " They are supposed to be useless beings." 
 
 " Thou art cruel," replied Fergus; " but perhaps I deserve 
 it. There have been princesses guarded by an ogre ; and I 
 have lacked boldness to venture near thee." 
 
 Sorcha understood that he was referring to Olrud. " My 
 grandmother may have wished to see more of thee," she 
 replied. " Otherwise we know that thou hast been better 
 engaged. We are not lonely with our three visitors." 
 
 She bowed gracefully, and taking up the can, which he had 
 for a moment set down, she placed it on her shoulder, and 
 hastened over the rath. 
 
 Fergus was startled. There was something which he had 
 not before observed in her manner towards him. " It must 
 be that wretched Olrud," he thought. " A man cannot fight 
 against prejudice. But if she is cold, it is only for a time. 
 The ogre will go, and she will be easily won." 
 
 He whistled gaily as he mounted the ladder. Perhaps a 
 little wholesome reserve on his own part would do good. He 
 would make her long for his company. Only for a short time, 
 however. He would run no real risk of losing her. 
 
 Fergus had a great belief in his own powers. He did not 
 think himself handsome, but he knew that educated women 
 were strongly attracted by talent. He had never heard of 
 any one who could be compared with himself in this respect. 
 The abbot and Maidoc were more learned, but they had no 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOKE. 175 
 
 power to awaken the deep sympathies of an audience. Or if 
 Maidoc had it, it was of a kind that did little good to himself. 
 Then there was Ardal. But he would never he a rival ; not, 
 at least, in regard to Sorcha. He had never concerned him- 
 self much about the fair sex. If he married at all, it would 
 be some quiet woman who would manage his housekeeping. 
 One of Fergus's own sisters, perhaps. They were both slightly 
 older, but that need not matter so much. He would try to 
 bring it about. Ardal was of royal blood, so the match 
 would reflect lustre on himself. He was so engrossed by his 
 pastoral duties that it would be a real kindness to seek out a 
 wife for him. 
 
 Fergus did not quite keep to the plan of withdrawing him- 
 self. He waited for Sorcha towards noon, but somehow she 
 failed to appear. She had, in truth, left the pharmacy at an 
 earlier hour. 
 
 It was difficult to keep her secret from Ita. But Grainne 
 had enjoined on her to do so. " We must pay respect to the 
 abbot," she said ; " and he will consider that we are doing so 
 if we make the disclosure first to him." 
 
 As the silver bell of the tower rang out its noonday peal, a 
 little party emerged from the cottage. First came Amada, 
 guided by Olrud, and crowned by a snowy linen kerchief; 
 then Ardal, with Sorcha on his arm ; and lastly, Grainne, 
 with Sigurda. The old lady looked extremely happy, and 
 diverted attention from Sorcha's blushes by the fuss she 
 made about herself. 
 
 "I am presentable, I think," she said "We do right to 
 acknowledge the powers that be. Now, Olrud, thou must 
 speak first, for thou seest I am fluttered" 
 
 A smile hovered about Grainne's mouth. She doubtless 
 thought the injunction needless. 
 
 They walked slowly on account of Amada. Fergus caught 
 sight of them from his station behind the corner of the church. 
 
 " What is that ? '' he thought. " Amada going to the re- 
 
176 THE BRIDES OP AKDMOEE. 
 
 feotory. Some of Olrud's stupid ideas. And there is Soroba : 
 she is walking with Ardal." 
 
 His brow grew dark as he watched them. Sorcba was 
 robed in a lena of white linen, with an inar embroidered in 
 gold. Her dark locks were half concealed beneath a veil of 
 delicate texture. 
 
 " I see how it is," thought Fergus ; " Olrud has made 
 Ardal his friend. They hold the same views, and Olrud 
 knows where to push his advantage. But I would rather that 
 Ardal did not walk with Sorcha. I must hasten in, lest they 
 find places together at the table." 
 
 The abbot was seated with his family in the chief refectory. 
 It was a spacious apartment, whose polished wooden walls 
 bore shelves supporting a goodly array of cold meats and 
 condiments, platters and cups of yew. Around its table 
 were the faces of several venerable men, who, having fulfilled 
 a lifelong episcopate had come to spend their declining years 
 in the college which had been the nursery of their minds. 
 These were eligible for filling up vacancies in the great 
 council. The rest of the company consisted of the families 
 of those whose educational duties obliged them to be perma- 
 nent residents ; with others, who, like Sorcha, had an 
 inherited claim for maintenance. 
 
 A smile crossed the abbot's face as he espied Fergus. The 
 Lady Uailsi advanced with a gesture of welcome. 
 
 "You will have a visitor to-day," said the young bishop, 
 carelessly. "Amada Ni-Ahern is, I believe, on her way 
 hither." 
 
 "Is it possible?" responded Uailsi, with an air of in- 
 difference. " There are several vacant seats at the other 
 table." 
 
 " Perhaps," suggested Mor, " she is going to dine with 
 Sorcha." 
 
 " I wonder at her taste," said the abbot. " Our viands 
 are more choice than those of the students." 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMOBE. 177 
 
 At this moment Amada's bright face appeared, looking 
 most picturesque in its contrast to the grim visage of her 
 companion. Those who had already seated themselves near 
 the door rose with instinctive respect. Mor would have 
 followed their example, had not a glance from her mother 
 prevented her. 
 
 There was much bewilderment, however, when, following 
 close on Amada, came the tall figure of Ardal and the 
 graceful one of Sorcha. The abbot took in the situation at a 
 glance ; so did Maidoc and Ita, who, catching a glimpse of 
 what was going on, had hastened hither from the large 
 refectory. 
 
 None, however, had time for reflection. The little pro- 
 cession swept rapidly forward, and stood within two paces of 
 the abbot. 
 
 " We have come to announce to thee," said Olrud, " that 
 Bishop Ardal and Sorcha have given and received a promise 
 of marriage. We ask thy sanction for their espousal." 
 
 The abbot grasped Sorcha's hand. " Let us ask God's 
 blessing," he said. 
 
 All knelt whilst he did so. Then, bestowing a kiss on the 
 maiden's cheek, he congratulated her with a kindliness which 
 encouraged her to glance upwards as she received the same 
 token of good-will from Uailsi. But she was startled at the 
 expression on the lady's face ; there was mortification writ- 
 ten there, for the corners of the mouth were rigidly drawn 
 down, whilst the eyes were hard and glassy. Sorcha's hot 
 lips touched an icicle. 
 
 There was a tinge of the same thing in Mor, only it was 
 softened by the warm pressure of her grasp. Sorcha could 
 see that she was conquering her vexation with an effort ; 
 indeed the tears were almost welling to her eyes. But any 
 eccentricity of these ladies was thrown completely into the 
 shade by that of Fergus. 
 
 He had not heard a word of the abbot's prayer. He had 
 
 13 
 
178 THE BRIDES OP AEDMORE. 
 
 knelt, indeed, along -with the rest, but his brow was feverish 
 and his auburn hair much disarranged when he rose from his 
 knees. His face flushed to the hue of a cherry as he came 
 forward with his felicitations. Then, when all had seated 
 themselves at table, and he had taken his wonted place 
 beside Uailsi, his restlessness was something remarkable. 
 He had never been more witty, never more ready with his 
 repartees. Amada, who was seated next him, divined the 
 cause. 
 
 It was well that she did so. She was extremely nervous 
 at having to dine in company, after having been so long 
 accustomed to the privacy of home ; but all sense of fear 
 was lost in that of pity. Fergus had always been a favourite 
 of hers ; his mind was like a finely-strung harp, which, 
 though it sometimes gave out wild music, might be expected 
 to vibrate audibly to every breath. Amada could not bear to 
 think of his suffering. 
 
 And Grainne found a subject for study in the affectionate 
 solicitude of her mother's manner towards the lively young 
 bishop, whose wit came forth in such wondrous flashes. 
 
 Sorcha bore her honours with a gentle humility. She was 
 so unassuming that no one could well grudge them to her. 
 She was, however, not quite at ease. She had heard how 
 brilliant Fergus usually was when at dinner, but she could 
 not help thinking that there was an extra sparkle caused by 
 unusual agitation. Perhaps he had loved her, after all. 
 Perhaps she had not acted fairly by him ; she had listened 
 to his compliments. Would it not have been more con- 
 siderate had she devised some means of acquainting him 
 earlier in the day with an unwelcome truth ? 
 
 The repast being finished, all moved away to their respec- 
 tive business. Ardal led Sorcha out, followed closely by 
 Amada and Olrud. Maidoc and Ita stood outside the door 
 of the other refectory as they passed it ; their faces actually 
 shone with unfeigned happiness. Sorcha needed no further 
 testimony to the wisdom of her choice. 
 
THE BRIDES OP AKDMOBE. 179 
 
 A few quiet jokes were exchanged ere they found them- 
 selves on the greensward. Here they were joined hy Fergus. 
 He looked wilder than ever. He walked by Sorcha's side, as 
 if he had the right to claim part of her. She pressed her 
 lover's arm gently, and her tone in replying to his rival had a 
 slight touch of compassion. 
 
 But it was no compassion that Fergus wanted. He was 
 fearfully excited, though he was making a bold effort to con- 
 ceal it. He spoke with Ardal of things indifferent. 
 
 But in parting he took a long look at Sorcha. There was 
 a fierceness in his eye like that of some hunted animal. His 
 face flushed again, and he started abruptly away. 
 
 Sorcha gave a sigh when he was gone. She looked at 
 Ardal, half fearing that he might be displeased. But his 
 brown eyes had a roguish twinkle in them. 
 
 " Thou art worse than a Saracen," he said. " Thou hast 
 borrowed Cupid's arrows, and none can suck the poison from 
 their wound." 
 
 " It is no matter for jesting," replied Sorcha. " I should 
 have let him know of it sooner, but I never dreamt of his 
 taking it in this way." 
 
 " I esteem him the more for it," said Ardal. " A little 
 poison may be a good medicine, if it be taken with dis- 
 cretion." 
 
 Fergus was not the only one whose mind was disturbed by 
 Sorcha's betrothal. The Lady Uailsi saw her most cherished 
 project shattered. She had longed to have Ardal as a son- 
 in-law, not for days, but for years. "When her daughter was 
 only seven she had looked about for the most promising scion 
 of a princely family with whom she was likely to come into 
 contact. She had kept all other maidens at a distance that 
 they might hot interfere with Mor's chances. She had 
 lavished the wealth of her own intellect, and had for the last 
 week been profuse in her hospitality, in order to keep Ardal 
 in her social circle. She saw that Mor had made an impres- 
 
180 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 sion on him at first. True, he had been afterwards more 
 reserved, but that was perhaps to be accounted for by the 
 serious matters which were weighing on his spirits. It never 
 once occurred to her that a guest whom she and the abbot 
 delighted to honour could dream of seeking pleasure in the' 
 society of others. 
 
 And she had had absolutely no hint of this ! It had come 
 on her like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. She felt doubly 
 thwarted, because she had taken pains to instil into her 
 daughter's mind the idea that the young bishop cared for her. 
 She had done Mor a wrong in this. The girl was so affec- 
 tionate, so dutiful, that she was but too ready to believe her 
 mother's word. And Mor would be so much hurt by a slight ! 
 
 The two hastened to the upper chamber of their own dwell- 
 ing — the only one where they might converse quite unheard. 
 Uailsi's hands were clenched, and her face expressive of 
 much bitterness. Mor burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Her mother waited till the paroxysm had subsided. She 
 then spoke with vehemence : 
 
 " Is it not base conduct ? " she exclaimed. " But he will be 
 punished for trifling with thee." 
 
 Mor's blue eyes looked more transparent than ever through 
 her tears. 
 
 " Call him not base, mother," she said. " It is we who 
 have been mistaken. Thou hast praised me overmuch ; and 
 thou hast fancied that others would do the same. I should 
 feel humbled were it any one but Sorcha. She is as accom- 
 plished as I am, and more worthy of Ardal's love." 
 
 " Thou art good in saying so," said her mother. " But no 
 one who knows you both would agree with thee. Who is 
 Sorcha ? Her father was a learned man, doubtless, but her 
 mother's family is not quite so distinguished. In truth, they 
 were very poor at one time, and they have not the least 
 pretension to birth. It is impossible that their culture can 
 be equal to thine." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 181 
 
 " I cannot see it, mother," replied Mor. " Sorcha is as 
 good a Latin scholar, for I have read her translations. And 
 as for her penwork, thou hast thyself said that I would have 
 to labour if I hoped to have my gospel sent to England." 
 
 " That may be," said Uailsi. " Let us grant that she 
 equals thee in some things ; but there must be others in which 
 she is inferior. Culture does not mean a few accomplish- 
 ments. It is something that cannot be denned ; it is a sweet 
 odour that pervades our every action. It must be of a finer 
 kind where it has been valued for threescore generations. 
 Then consider the connection which the son of O'Brien is 
 forming. Instead of allying himself with a family who for 
 centuries have given abbots to Armagh, who are the rightful 
 custodians of the Staff of Jesus, the co-arbs of Patrick, in 
 short, and of the race of Hy-Niall — he gets a wife whose 
 nearest male relative is a Bo-aire, and whose mother's sister 
 is married to that disagreeable Danish fellow, Olrud. I 
 wonder that Bishop Ardal did not blush when the man 
 ushered him in." 
 
 "But where did we get these notions about birth ?" said 
 Mor. " Was it not from the bards of heathendom, who 
 imagined their rulers to be of the race of gods ? I would 
 rather have in my veins the red blood of which Paul spoke at 
 Athens, than any mixture of ichor from that questionable 
 Olympus. And Sorcha's face is excuse enough for a king's 
 son. She will never disgrace her new rank. Perhaps we 
 should be happier if we did not think so much of our great 
 kinsfolk.'' 
 
 Uailsi laughed. 
 
 " What amuses thee, mother ? " inquired Mor. 
 
 " I see Ardal O'Brien," she replied, " in the company of 
 his new friends. Sigurda is a very refined person, and the 
 old lady is in her second childhood ; then Olrud." 
 
 " If Ardal is a bishop at all," replied Mor, " he should 
 suit himself to all conditions of men. They are quite worthy 
 
182 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 people in their way, and Sorcha says her grandmother is not 
 failing in the very least. Bishop Maidoc, indeed, thinks her 
 quite superior." 
 
 " My child," replied Uailsi, " it hath been a misfortune for 
 thee to have been reared so far out of the great world. Thou 
 shouldst have seen the men and women at Turlough O'Con- 
 nor's court. Thou wouldst have known what superior people 
 were. Maidoc never spoke with one of them in his life. 
 Turlough himself was called the Western Augustus, and they 
 say that the lays of Gilla Enos O'Clowen would sound like 
 those of Horace, if they had been framed in the measures of 
 a less barbarous tongue." 
 
 " It is a pity that he did not commit them to parchment," 
 said Mor. "His monument would then have been more 
 lasting than a pillar of mountain-mist, reared by the wind of 
 foolish praise. I cannot say I have been deceived," she con- 
 tinued. "I never felt as if Ardal cared for me. And he 
 had a right to please himself." 
 
 " We must submit to it," said her mother, rising. " I am 
 glad that thou art a philosopher. Sorcha would not have 
 spoken thus in thy place." 
 
 " Speak not of Sorcha," said Mor. " I will try to be more 
 her friend since she will be my equal by her marriage. I 
 thought Ardal the best and the handsomest man I had ever 
 seen ; but others may be good in a different way." 
 
 Mor was, in truth, more vexed than she would willingly 
 have allowed. The possibility of Sorcha's rivalry had never 
 once crossed her mind. She had not permitted herself to fall 
 in love ; she was too well brought up to do so without suffi- 
 cient encouragement. But she had her full share of natural 
 vanity, and it was impossible to hear so much about her own 
 unapproachable perfections without coming to believe in 
 them. She felt slighted In vain did reason say that there 
 was no cause for her doing so. Mor knew that the delightful 
 little suppers they had enjoyed in the young bishop's society 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 183 
 
 had been got up for her sake. She had done her best to 
 please ; not obtrusively, but with the open simplicity which 
 marked her every action. Sorcha had never been present in 
 the refectory, so that all the attentions of the two young 
 travellers at the noonday meal had been to her. She should 
 never forget the evening of their arrival. They had both 
 looked at her very persistently, and she was conscious of 
 being the most highly-placed maiden they were likely 
 soon to meet. Ardal had been more reserved latterly, but 
 she had attributed this to the natural diffidence which all 
 young men must feel in regard to her. His image had 
 mingled itself with her day-dreams ; and it was a rude shock 
 to find that the reality had removed itself for ever away from 
 her. 
 
 Her heart had warmed to Ardal all the more that she had 
 noticed how sociable he was. He was a born prince, the 
 descendant of famous chieftains, yet his humility was beau- 
 tiful. It was like the fragrant violet, making no effort to 
 attract notice, and lying so near the soil as almost to seem a 
 part of it. Others might talk of condescension ; the young 
 bishop seemed to have nowhere to descend from. And she 
 could read in his eye a strength of will which might force 
 even her mother to bend to his views. 
 
 She was, therefore, doubly disappointed at his defection. 
 The rope which she had wished to grasp had seemed so 
 firmly tied; it had given way, and she was afloat on the 
 chill billows. This was perhaps sent as a rebuke to her 
 pride. Mor began to fear that she had been ill-educated; 
 that with all her getting she had not got understanding. 
 She had a nature as noble as Grainne's own ; indeed, there 
 was something much alike in the two women ; only Mor had 
 grown up in such different circumstances that she had run 
 into quite another mould. 
 
 Yet, whilst Sorcha's success was a blow to her vanity, she 
 felt that it was a tribute to her power of discernment. It 
 
184 THE BEIDES OF AEDMOKE. 
 
 was a confirmation of the fact that she had formed a correct 
 estimate of her mother's mistakes. " Sorcha must have 
 something that I lack," she thought. "It need not neces- 
 sarily be beauty. She has easy manners ; men do not need 
 to use ceremony in approaching her. The hedge which 
 separates me from my fellow-creatures may be growing 
 thorns. I will tear it up by the roots.'' 
 
 Alas ! how could she do this ? Pride makes us very lonely, 
 and Mor saw that she could not escape a penalty for having 
 cherished it so long. She yearned for some heart-com- 
 munion outside of her home. There was a sanctuary within 
 her which neither of her parents could enter. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Another, besides Ardal, had spoken to Mor in natural tones. 
 Unawed by Uailsi's haughtiness, he had dared to associate 
 with her on the footing of an equal. Genius had asserted 
 its birthright -when Fergus O'Flannahan's wit had dis- 
 armed all efforts to exclude him from the highest coterie of 
 Ardmore. He brought into Mor's experience the freshness 
 of a new intellectual breeze. He breathed a few magic words, 
 and lo ! all dulness disappeared. Her mother had come to 
 think of him in the light of a privileged fool. 
 
 For Fergus, like Olrud, was supposed to be of lowly 
 extraction ; to have risen, in fact, from a stratum of society 
 beneath that of Eossa and Amada. Diamonds sometimes 
 lie very deeply buried, but even they need a certain amount 
 of washing and polishing before they are fit to clasp the 
 robe of royalty. It remained to be determined whether 
 Fergus O'Flannahan was a diamond. There are gradations 
 in the value of precious stones which it needs a practised eye 
 to mark. Opinions were divided about Fergus. He was no 
 mediocrity, that was certain ; but the lustre that can force 
 its way up from the bottom of a well must be both persistent 
 and steady. If birth were everything, Fergus O'Flannahan 
 had no right to approach a maiden of the Cinel Conaill ; 
 but if talent ennoble all who are connected with it, then a 
 princess herself might shine in the reflected radiance of a 
 true-born poet. 
 
 Why was M6r troubled by such musings ? Because Fergus 
 
186 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 had already addressed to her the language of flattery. Mor's 
 simplicity was great. It exceeded even that of Sorcha. 
 What wonder if she consoled herself for the loss of the man 
 she might have won hy thinking of one who seemed wishful 
 to win her. 
 
 Mor had shut her ears to the voice of the charmer. She 
 had enjoyed his sallies of wit without apparently listening to 
 the tender epithets which he secretly shot at her. Not by 
 such artillery was a proud girl to be conquered. But now 
 she was smarting under a defeat. Dissemble it as she would, 
 she felt as if to-day she were scarcely so much worth as 
 yesterday. " What is love ? " Mor thought to herseE " It 
 is a tender flower which often blooms where we have not 
 cultivated it. A passing frost may blight it ; yet the rudest 
 storms will only root it the firmer. It is sown and reared 
 by the Creator's hand ; we cannot regulate its up-springing 
 any more than we can fix the courses of the seasons. There 
 is nothing else on earth to compare with it. Love, the quint- 
 essence of all delights, the flower and crown of human expe- 
 riences — do we expect to make it for ourselves ? or, having 
 procured a plant of it, do we mark out the direction each leaf 
 is expected to take, and then think that our production shall 
 vie with Nature's ? No, no ! Par better to watch where it 
 has already sprouted, and be thankful if we can cull its sweets, 
 even at the risk of torn garments and wounded fingers." 
 
 Mor observed Fergus more closely ; but in truth she had 
 little need to do so. His tender glances were quite fresh in 
 her recollection. She had received them as offerings that 
 she could never appropriate ; they had lain untouched at 
 her shrine. But now her spirit was more active. The pain 
 it had just felt made it loth to inflict a similar grief. And 
 she began to debate whether Fergus might not be preferable 
 to Ardal. 
 
 In secret, however ; her mother was no longer to be 
 trusted. Uailsi had, in truth, shown little skill in her 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 187 
 
 management. She had been too sure of her conquest to 
 exercise much generalship ; and any generalship was quite 
 out of place, thought the maiden. It was repugnant to her 
 whole nature. 
 
 She was not long kept in suspense. A very slight un- 
 bending, and her destiny would pass out of her own hands. 
 Fergus was in a mood for resolving on something desperate. 
 Had he loved Sorcha ? The motives of such men are diffi- 
 cult to analyse ; yet we think we have good grounds for 
 saying that he had. 
 
 And in truth it was no wonder. He had seen queens of 
 beauty ; women chosen by the flower of Provencal chivalry 
 to bear the twice royal title ; but each and all would have 
 had to yield the throne to Sorcha. He had called this a 
 fancy at first; he had attributed half its strength to a 
 natural prejudice in favour of a Celtic form ; but in vain. Each 
 day that he looked at her he became more convinced that 
 his taste was unerring. It was no matter of fancy : Sorcha 
 was fair as the summer morning ; perfect as an exquisitely 
 moulded peach ; queenly as the moon riding in the nightly 
 heavens. The reality always outstripped his last recollection 
 of her. 
 
 And Fergus adored beauty. She was his goddess ; the one 
 thing that occupied a higher pedestal than the love of him- 
 self. Beauty incarnate ; the loveliness of the natural and of 
 the spiritual world blended into a woman's shape — should he 
 not long to make it for ever his own ? Yes, it seemed near 
 him, it must be his potentially — actually also, if other things 
 were meet. He might not find it convenient to be bound to 
 Sorcha; but if he were forced to make an effort of self- 
 denial, it must be by the exercise of his will alone. 
 
 For Fergus was also ambitious. This was the keynote of 
 his character. He had trained his every faculty in an 
 upward direction. His talents had doubtless raised him 
 from a humble station to power ; yet in the Isle of Saints 
 
188 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE. 
 
 there were other paths to eminence. He was very sensitive 
 to his defects of birth ; not that he would have allowed this ; 
 on the contrary, he professed to despise any advantages he 
 might have got from a nobler parentage. Yet the more his 
 pride tried to conceal it, the more was he conscious of a deep- 
 seated chagrin at the want of high connections. There was 
 only one way of supplying it, and that was by marriage. 
 
 Could he win a noble maiden, it would be evidence that 
 others did not despise his family. Sorcha was well-born on 
 her father's side, and not contemptibly low on her mother's. 
 Indeed, had he and his brother not entered the clerical 
 profession, they would have felt themselves immeasurably 
 raised by an alliance with the children of Rossa. But that 
 was past. Fergus was now on a higher step of the social 
 ladder, and he would take the very longest stride that he 
 could manage. 
 
 His intercourse with the abbot's family kept him alive to 
 the fact of there being higher circles into which he might 
 penetrate. By fixing your gaze steadily on the heavens, you 
 may see a vista of clouds stretching upwards in thinner lines 
 towards the sun. So it was with Fergus. Had there been 
 no Mor, he would have been quite dazzled by Sorcha; but 
 the rarer atmosphere of Uailsi's household made him feel 
 that a straighter path led from it to the goal of his wishes. 
 
 It was possible, however, that he might fail. Not with 
 Sorcha. She was so simple, so humble, she blushed and 
 drooped like a flower when he praised her. She was sen- 
 sitive to his glances. He could imagine no more exquisite 
 pleasure than to see her so much affected by them. Yes, 
 there was one still in store for him. He had almost tasted 
 it in Maidoc's cell. It was the bliss of the moment when, 
 raising her clear lustrous eyes, she should give free play to 
 the affection that was treasured in her soul. It needed but 
 a word to bring this out. How often had that word trembled 
 on his lip ! 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 189 
 
 But its utterance might involve the destruction of another 
 hope. The sweetness of beauty often disappears after several 
 draughts of it. Fame and honour never pall on the most 
 satiated appetite. 
 
 Fergus wondered at his own foresight. It was almost 
 superhuman how he put aside the cup of happiness. Only 
 for a time, perhaps. It might be the best policy to drink it 
 after all. He would see how he succeeded with Mor. Her 
 pride might be impregnable, and, if so, he would have all the 
 more satisfaction in falling back upon Sorcha. 
 
 Not that he loved M6r in the same way. He admired her 
 intellect, which amongst its other attributes had the supreme 
 one of rendering her capable of appreciating his. He was 
 almost sick of undiscriminating flattery. He was formed to 
 be woman's idol, but he would prefer that his worshippers 
 should not be all of the common herd. 
 
 But M6r was only a means to an end. It was for the 
 sake of the ichor in her veins, and not for that of warm 
 human affection, that he sought her. True, the maiden was 
 comely, but her charms were not of the ravishing kind- 
 There would be a wrench at his heart when she accepted 
 him ; nevertheless, he was nerving himself to bear it. The 
 love of his own greatness was indeed excessive, when it 
 would even have led him to renounce Sorcha. 
 
 We must not suppose, however, that his plans had been 
 definitely formed. Any minute self-examination was an 
 ordeal from which he had an instinctive shrinking. He was 
 like a cork set afloat on the billows, constant in nothing but 
 in keeping on the crest of every passing wave. He was fully 
 aware of the discord between his several wishes, and con- 
 sidered that fortune had been somewhat unkind in failing to 
 show him a way of harmonising them. The double dream 
 was pleasant while it lasted, and he considered that there 
 was sufficient cause in the wealth of his nature to account 
 for his indulgence in it. 
 
190 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 Sorcha's betrothal was a rude awakening. It startled him 
 with a sense of falling akin to the experience of disturbed 
 sleep. He felt dazed,' bewildered. If the new trouble had 
 sprung out of the ground, it could not more effectually have 
 concealed its approach. A wild frenzy arose within him, 
 whose manifestation was hard to repress. He could almost 
 have slain Sorcha as she bent her lovely head before the 
 unseen Presence whose blessing was sought for her. Fergus 
 had what he feared might be a foretaste of hell. 
 
 But successful actors on life's stage must often pass the 
 jest to conceal their own misery. Fergus scarcely felt that it 
 was himself who spoke, even when the company were laugh- 
 ing at his sallies. Never had he so much over-mastered 
 himself. He had a feeling of his own greatness. In that 
 supreme moment, when most of what would have made his 
 life worthy was slipping from him, he exercised a power of 
 will that might suffice to enslave nations. 
 
 But the volcano was only slumbering. Its flames, driven 
 back from their natural outlet, covered up with the hard 
 crust of conventional decorum, made fearful havoc with his 
 inner man. There was a gnawing pain at his heart ; a 
 pain that almost drove him to desperation. He walked to 
 the cottage by Sorcha's side, as if he derived some assuage- 
 ment from the fancy that he could yet snatch her away from 
 his rival. Then he sought the solitude of the forest. 
 
 There he threw himself at full length upon the mossy turf. 
 Had his friends cared to follow him, they would have been 
 struck by his change of countenance. The bold brow was 
 knitted with fierce suffering, the flushed cheeks were hollow ; 
 the lines about chin and mouth were expressive of the 
 deepest dejection. He looked like the shattered wreck of 
 himself. 
 
 " "Why have I deserved this ?" he thought. " Sorcha knew 
 that I loved her. I have shown it to her in a thousand 
 ways. I have never been forgetful of her presence ; no, not 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 191 
 
 when an appreciative audience was hanging on my lips. 
 I have virtually worn her colours as her true knight. Why 
 has she preferred Ardal ? Some malice must have been 
 at work." 
 
 Fergus's eye flashed. A cloud of intense bitterness over- 
 spread his face. 
 
 " That wretch Olrud ! " he exclaimed. " Yes, it must be 
 he, the low, sneaking pharisee ! enlarging his phylacteries, 
 whilst he whispered distrust in her ear. My happiness has 
 been sacrificed to these miserable church squabbles ! Or 
 stay," he thought again, " it may not be Olrud after all. It 
 cannot be the old lady. Grainne ? Yes, it may. She is so 
 worldly-wise, and has no doubt been anxious to have Sorcha 
 settled. She has looked for the best match, and Ardal is 
 very simple. The girl has had no choice. I — did I give 
 her anything to go upon ? Perhaps I have dallied too long 
 with uncertainties. Sorcha is unsophisticated ; she doubt- 
 less lacked courage to say to her aunt, ' Fergus loves me.' 
 
 " Yet I hate Olmd. He has been the black serpent in my 
 garden. A cold, sneering, cynical hypocrite, without one 
 spark of poetry or human sympathy. He venture to dispose 
 of Sorcha! to protect her, perhaps, from one who has the 
 taint of heresy ! What right had he at Ardmore ? An 
 upstart fellow, who was born to be an erenach ! who has no 
 claim on a bishop's friendship but the barren one of office. 
 The son of those black strangers whose impious hands once 
 rifled our shrines. I shall raise a hue-and-cry after him. I 
 shall have him cast out of the synagogue ! " 
 
 This reference to a scriptural saying startled Fergus. His 
 mobile mind at once took in the necessity for caution. 
 
 He was deluding himself into a belief of his own honesty. 
 It never once occurred to him that he had for a moment 
 hesitated about wooing Sorcha. No ; with the retrospective 
 light now cast upon it, his purpose had been altogether a 
 single one. He had been guilty of delay, not dissimulation. 
 
192 
 
 THE BEIDE3 OF AEDMOEEi 
 
 He considered himself a most ill-used man. If Sorcha had 
 given him the least hint, he would have tried to ward off the 
 approaching danger. He was sure that her kind heart had 
 not prepared this cruel surprise ; it was Grainne's manage- 
 ment. She feared lest the disclosure should mar her scheme. 
 The maiden would surely have preferred her first wooer. 
 Perhaps she was even now regretting him. 
 
 The thought brought Fergus some consolation, yet it failed 
 to rouse him to any effort. Should he try to dispute with 
 Ardal ? He felt that the attempt would be hopeless. Sorcha 
 was now guarded by a dragon. She was perhaps ambitious. 
 The marriage would place her in the rank of princes ; for, 
 though Ardal had dropped his title at his ordination, he could 
 not divest himself of the honour of having once borne it. But 
 what was Ardal's genius compared with his ? Sorcha would 
 live to regret that she had forsaken him. 
 
 Fergus rose from his grassy couch. He spent the rest of 
 that day in aimless wanderings. They had no issue, so far as 
 his feet were concerned, but the whole force of his spirit was 
 thrown into the effort to immortalise its own workings. And 
 this he almost accomplished in a very beautiful poem, which, 
 like many other Celtic treasures, has perished in its voyage 
 down the ages. The labour brought with it sufficient exhaus- 
 tion to make him at length seek his nightly pillow. 
 
CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 As the first rays of next morning's sun touched the pictu- 
 resque cluster of huts that nestled round the tower and church 
 of Ardmore, they found many of its inhabitants already astir ; 
 for the abbot had made known that he expected the visit of 
 Tostius, Bishop of Waterford, a man of mark, who had long 
 kept up a correspondence with him, and now wished to see 
 with his own eyes the habits of the community which he 
 deemed schismatical. The abbot had invited him most 
 cordially to spend several days under his roof. News of the 
 prelate's arrival at Dungarvan had come on the preceding 
 night. He might be expected in the course of the afternoon. 
 
 There was unwonted agitation both inside and outside of the 
 rath. Dairymaids were busy scouring their pails ; the very 
 scullery wenches polished and rubbed with a pardonable wish 
 to make things look their best. Ita began an extra baking ; 
 whilst Uailsi, M6r, and Sorcha were divided between the con- 
 coction of some special dishes, and the elaboration of their 
 own toilets. Sorcha found that her footing in the family had 
 changed. The Lady Uailsi, having recovered from her fit of 
 coldness, spoke to her for the first time as to a daughter; 
 whilst M6r's bright eye rested on her with,. peculiar satisfac- 
 tion. She was now one of themselves. Sorcha was too 
 happy to divine any selfish motive in this. She attributed it 
 to the force of circumstances, and went about in serene un- 
 consciousness of doing aught but her duty. Nevertheless, her 
 overflowing heart sent out a new stream of sisterly affection 
 towards M6r. 
 
 The sun had fairly begun his descent to the west, and a 
 14 
 
194 THE BB1DES OP ABDMOEE. 
 
 solemn stillness was falling on forest and meadow, when the 
 space between the door of the church and the tower became 
 sprinkled with picturesque groups. There were some fifty 
 bishops, clothed in their black mantles, through the open- 
 ings of which the edges of their white flannel lenas peeped 
 forth. All carried their simple crosiers, and many of them 
 had cases of wax tablets suspended by chains from their 
 leathern girdles. Several women stood about, their dark robes 
 relieved by bright tartans; whilst farm and house servants 
 of both sexes wore their holiday attire of undyed saffron wool. 
 Children mingled freely in the crowd, lending to it the charm 
 of their rosy faces and innocent questioning little ways. 
 
 At length the abbot appeared, followed by Maidoc, Ardal, 
 and Fergus. Then the bishops formed in procession three 
 deep ; and all, having descended the hill and crossed the 
 channel on planks, set forth along the forest road to Dungar- 
 van. 
 
 They had proceeded thus about half a mile, followed by a 
 crowd of saffron-robed peasants, when the sound of music 
 fell on their ears. Ardal glanced meaningly at Fergus, and 
 the general pace became slower. The tones swelled to a rich 
 volume of sound, and at length, at a turn of the well-trodden 
 highway, appeared a banner, borne aloft by boys in white 
 lace-edged surplices. There was a disposition amongst the 
 abbot's followers to halt, but Ardal beckoned them forward. 
 
 " Let not that impose on you, my brethren," he said. " It 
 savoureth of the pomp and glory of this world. We have 
 nought but what cometh of our connection with the unseen." 
 
 The little company kept by Ardal's directions in the middle 
 of the roadway, moving neither to the right nor to the left as 
 the banner approached. Another was soon observed behind 
 it ; and the volume of sweet sound was evidently rising from 
 the open mouths of a dozen boys, who walked bareheaded 
 in front of a gorgeously-dressed old man ; before whom rose 
 a cloud of fragrant smoke, issuing from two silver censers 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 19ff 
 
 swung by the white-robed youths. A priest walked on either 
 side of him, with ample black and white garments, throwing 
 into stronger relief the magnificence of his gold embroidery. 
 His shining mitre was conspicuously adorned with a silver 
 cross. 
 
 Ardal's eyes were quick to observe the effect of this splen- 
 dour on his companions. He noticed that Fergus's lip was 
 curled, as if in involuntary scorn, and that many of the other 
 bishops looked troubled and anxious. Some of the peasants 
 were staring in open-mouthed wonder, whilst others betrayed 
 a disposition to smile. 
 
 The banners at length approached near enough for their 
 meaning to be perceived. The first bore the conventional 
 likeness of our Saviour's face, surrounded by a halo of silver 
 spikes, and wearing the marks of intense suffering beneath 
 the crown of thorns. Great crimson drops were sprinked all 
 over it. The second bore a most touching image of the Virgin, 
 placing her hand where the seven arrows stuck in her heart. 
 Ardal noticed that, whilst some of the country folk seemed 
 rather weak about the knees when they beheld the first picture, 
 they straightened themselves up and looked defiant at the 
 view of the second 
 
 The abbot's party kept in the middle of the road. The 
 young choristers arrived within a few paces of them, then 
 ceasing their chanting, they ranged themselves in two rows 
 on either side, whilst the bishop advanced between them with 
 extended hands. 
 
 The abbot grasped them rather more warmly than was alto- 
 gether pleasing to his followers. The two men looked into 
 each other's eyes as if with an unspoken longing to realise 
 their union in a common faith. Both groups meanwhile 
 gazed curiously at each other. The prelate spoke first. 
 "Dominus vobiscum, filii Declanis," he said, making the 
 motion of benediction with his fingers, which, enigmatical to 
 others, was well understood by Fergus and ArdaL 
 
196 THE BKIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 " Salve, frater, grate Ardmori," replied the abbot. "I 
 trust that thou wilt find that we are indeed thy brethren, 
 children of one Father." 
 
 The two walked on together. The priests following were 
 escorted by Fergus, whilst Maidoc, whose duty it should have 
 been to pilot them, fell back amongst the other bishops. 
 
 The choristers seemed at first puzzled what to do with 
 themselves. Finding, however, that the grassy path was 
 wide enough, they ranged themselves in double file, and 
 walked by the side of the Irish ecclesiastics. Obeying a signal 
 from one of the priests, they soon struck up Psalm cxii., 
 "Laudate pueri Dominum." Ardal, who happened to be 
 near them, at once joined in it. 
 
 The boys looked up in some amazement, for Ardal uttered 
 it with an intensity of meaning to which they seemed utter 
 strangers. 
 
 Planks had been laid across the shallow part of the narrow 
 gulf which separated Ardmore from the mainland. The pro- 
 cession wound slowly up the hill, followed at a short distance 
 by a troop of led horses and others carrying the visitors' 
 
 There was a crowd before the arched gateway of the rath, 
 but a space had been cleared for the ecclesiastics to pass 
 through it. On entering the blooming enclosure, they per- 
 ceived a group of white-robed ladies standing before the church 
 door. The abbot, however, seemed unmindful of their pre- 
 sence. Turning to his guests, he said : 
 
 " It hath ever been our custom, since the days of the 
 blessed Patrick, that the stranger who entereth within our 
 gates should first raise in our sanctuary the song of thanks- 
 giving for his safe journey." 
 
 " A gracious custom," responded the prelate, gathering the 
 edges of his rich mantle together, and crossing himself as he 
 stepped over the threshold. 
 
 A singular spectacle met his eye. The double church was 
 
THE BKIDES OF AEDMOKE. 197 
 
 decorated with festoons of green leaves and with Latin texts 
 in floral devices all round the walls — the Ten Commandments 
 and the Lord's Prayer being conspicuous on the eastern wall 
 over the communion table. Banged on either side of the 
 outer chapel were about fifty boys and girls, with small parch- 
 ment rolls in their hands. 
 
 The abbot led his guest forward. Together they knelt on 
 a sealskin mat in the centre of the inner sanctuary, each 
 remaining for a few moments in silent prayer. 
 
 But as the prelate rose, the swelling sounds of the Te Deum 
 burst from a hundred youthful voices. The girls were led by 
 Mor and Sorcha — the one radiant in loveliness, the other with 
 that noble seraphic look which hallowed her countenance 
 when engaged in musical worship. The three priests, as well 
 as the choristers listened and gazed in unfeigned admiration. 
 
 No one spoke till the anthem was finished. Then the 
 abbot led his guest out of the chapel. 
 
 " I was not aware," remarked Tostius, " that you made any 
 use of the sacred language." 
 
 " Of Latin, thou wouldst say," replied the abbot, smiling. 
 " We hold it not sacred, but we study it for the sake of its 
 classic literature, no less than for that of the apostolical 
 Fathers. Our services, it is true, are conducted in the native 
 tongue, for the benefit of our ignorant fellow-countrymen ; but 
 amongst ourselves we sometimes sing the "AltusProsator" of 
 Columba, or the " Sancti venite," when we partake of the 
 Eucharist. "We have the Psalter in Erse measures, but we 
 have deviated from our usage of it in order that we might 
 have a point of understanding with thee." 
 
 The prelate bowed his acknowledgments. " I cannot 
 wonder,'' he said, " at thy attachment to thine own ritual 
 when the musical part of it is made so attractive.'' 
 
 The graceful figure of Uailsi now appeared, accompanied 
 by several other matrons. The abbot spoke distinctly, and 
 with a pardonable pride. 
 
198 THE BBIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 " My wife," he said, " bids thee welcome to our humble 
 home." 
 
 Tostius took the fair lady's hand with the air of a courtier. 
 He even made a motion as if he would raise it to his lips, but 
 this Uailsi gently resisted. 
 
 Ita was presented, then Mor and Sorcha. 
 
 "We have arranged," said the abbot, "that thou shalt be 
 my special guest. "We are simple people, and never change 
 our ways of living. Thy two friends are invited to spend the 
 evening with some of our bishops in the great refectory ; the 
 boys, we think, will be most at home with our young scholars. 
 I hear from their tongue that they are natives of Erin. I 
 must ask thee to accompany us to our dwelling, where thou 
 wilt find some needed refreshment. 
 
 He led his guest to a house built against that part of the 
 rath which w^s nearest to the Eound Tower. It occupied the 
 highest ground in the enclosure, and was half overshadowed 
 by the gigantic yew-tree, in whose branches birds had built 
 ever since the days of Declan. Two young men sat con- 
 stantly at the door to await of to execute his orders. The 
 dwelling assigned to the prelate was, however, that known 
 as the Grianan, situated on the summit of the rath, and 
 approached by turf-cut steps from the abbot's door. 
 
 Their guest having retired, Mor turned toward Fergus with 
 the question — 
 
 " Thinkest thou that he is pleased ? Thou hast a critical 
 ear ; did our arrangement of to-day agree with thy wish ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," he replied. "It was a delicate compliment 
 to him to utter our worship in the cosmopolitan Latin. The 
 more we study each other in these minor matters, the more 
 firm shall we find it possible to be in essentials." 
 
 " There is no harm in it," said M6r, " seeing that it is a 
 tongue which our children are learning. But had there been 
 a mixed audience, it would have been a dangerous precedent. 
 Our services must be made intelligible to the worshippers." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDHORE. 199 
 
 " Flowers,'' replied Fergus, " speak a language that all can 
 understand. Are they not emhlametic of our hopes to bring 
 forth the fruits of the Spirit ? " 
 
 " Call them not a part of worship," said M6r. " Cain was 
 not accepted, though he robbed the fields." 
 
 " Yet are there shrioes where one may offer them," said 
 Fergus, taking from his breast a bunch of violets. " These 
 mean something, for their fragrance is everlasting." 
 
 M6r gazed inquisitively at him as she took them. There 
 was a penetration in her glance from which Fergus shrank. 
 The prelate's return, however, put an end to their converse. 
 
 Uailsi had surpassed herself in the artistic arrangement of 
 her supper-table. A superb bouquet of wild flowers stood in 
 a silver-mounted ox-horn in the centre ; whilst smaller horns, 
 supported on feet carved out of their own material, and 
 foaming with claret-coloured ale, rested lovingly on the 
 snowy linen. The viands were simple, but exquisitely cooked. 
 A lamb and a sucking-pig, roasted in honour of their guest, 
 were flanked by loaves of wheaten bread, and balls of golden 
 butter nestling amongst delicate water-cress. Nor was the 
 usual fare awanting ; and those who had no taste for luxuries 
 might satisfy themselves with dishes of white curds and basins 
 of oatmeal porridge flavoured with leeks. Half a dozen oil- 
 lamps vied with the fire in throwing an air of cheerfulness 
 over the fur-covered couches and benches of the homely 
 apartment ; the only one in Ardmore which could boast of a 
 chimney in the side wall. Uailsi herself presided, in sober 
 yet tasteful attire ; her active movements and her bright 
 intelligent face throwing an additional charm over all her 
 belongings. She had invited a select company to meet the 
 stranger. There were Maidoc and Ifca, who both seemed 
 determined to win tbe praise of gravity ; Fergus, whose 
 changeful expression gave token of a vivacious intellect ; 
 there was Ardal, whose heart happiness threw a warmth over 
 his every movement ; and Sorcha, more beautiful than ever 
 
200 THE BBIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 amidst her blushes. The prelate's eyes rested with a curious 
 interest on her and on M6r. 
 
 These maidens were indeed fair specimens of a class 
 which he had never yet had so good an opportunity of study- 
 ing. It hardly needed a second glance to tell him that they 
 were different from the other women he knew, different from 
 his sisters, who had passed the flower of their youth within 
 the walls of a convent ; different from those courtly ladies 
 whose grace was always accompanied by a shallow wit. Their 
 white lenas and inars displayed to advantage the perfection 
 of their forms, whilst the beauty of their countenances was 
 enhanced by the sparkle of intellect by which they were 
 illumined. Tostius thought that, had he been a worldling, he 
 would have imagined nothing more winning than M6r ; yet 
 in personal loveliness Sorcha appeared to surpass her. 
 
 He almost forgot his weariness in contemplating them. 
 It was only by repeated pressing that he was induced to do 
 any justice to the viands. An absorbing passion had taken 
 possession of his soul. These flowers of Erin must be culled 
 for the garland of the Eedeemer. It was too sad that they 
 should blossom outside of the true vineyard. 
 
 A few words of thanksgiving having been spoken by the 
 abbot, the table was cleared and placed in a corner. Fresh 
 logs were heaped on the glowing embers, and the company 
 gathered in a wide circle round the hearth. The conversation 
 soon took a practical turn. 
 
 " Ye have fine lands round the monastery," remarked Tos- 
 tius. " I presume that they were the gift of some chieftain?" 
 
 " Of several," replied the abbot. " Such benefactions are 
 common with- us as with you. They are often given for the 
 encouragement of learning. Our colleges are, in the first 
 place, educational; and, in the second, they give to the studious 
 the quiet so requisite for the transcribing of books. We do 
 not neglect profane literature, though our principal employ- 
 ment is the multiplication of the Holy Scriptures." 
 
THE BKIDES OF ARDMORE. 201 
 
 "I know, I know,' 7 said the prelate. " You Lave done 
 yourselves infinite honour in this. Your labours are appre- 
 ciated all over Christendom. The Holy Father himself has 
 derived benefit from them ; and this, more than anything 
 else, has made his heart yearn towards you. All who invoke 
 the sacred Trinity are his children by virtue of their bap- 
 tism." 
 
 " I fear he must think us wayward ones," said Fergus, 
 glancing mischievously at the ladies. 
 
 " He is not a stern father," replied the prelate, imper- 
 turbably. " None, indeed, who considers how Erin has been 
 separated, shut out, in a manner, from the rest of the world, 
 can wonder that her paths are not the same as ours. But" 
 it cannot remain so. Our Lord has distinctly said that His 
 Church shall be one." 
 
 " We think of that often," said the abbot. " We are not 
 obstinate. In some things we have conformed, but only 
 when our reason convinced us that Scripture was not against 
 you. Our forefathers changed their time of keeping Easter ; 
 
 and as for the tonsure " Here he ran his fingers through 
 
 the tuft overlaying his bald forehead. 
 
 " I have been surprised since coming here," said Tostius. 
 "I thought that five centuries ago all Irish bishops had 
 adopted the Eoman tonsure." 
 
 " So they did," replied Ardal. " But the controversy hath 
 waxed so warm of late that many of us have returned to 
 the old fashion, which, in truth, had never quite died out. 
 Those who have done so wish to mark the strength of their 
 motives for disobedience." 
 
 A slight frown passed over the prelate's face. It was im- 
 mediately banished, but not before he had darted at Ardal a 
 glance of peculiar meaning. The young bishop became 
 deadly pale and turned towards the narrow window. 
 
 "Is there anything wrong?" asked Sorcha, laying her 
 hand affectionately on his arm. 
 
202 THE BKIDKS OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 " No," he replied, recovering his composure with an effort; 
 whilst the prelate continued, smiling affably. 
 
 " I myself see few obstacles to our speedy union. There 
 cannot, indeed, be any, seeing that we both draw our warrants 
 from the same Book. You do not acknowledge the authority 
 of the four councils, I presume, because you were unrepre- 
 sented at them. Another oecumenical assembly might dispose 
 of the difficulty." 
 
 " True,'' replied Ardal, with an utterance made rather 
 thick by some inward agitation, " but there are rights, very 
 dear to us, which a General Council might ask us to give up." 
 
 A smile passed over every face, whilst Sorcha's cheeks 
 tingled painfully. Ardal had, for some strange reason, 
 avoided encountering a second time the prelate's glance. 
 Fergus gave a convulsive laugh, and M6r bravely struck 
 in — 
 
 " He means rights of marriage. Our bishops will never 
 part with their wives." 
 
 The prelate's brows became more contracted. " Thou 
 hast touched the kernel of the matter," he remarked. " All 
 else might be left open questions ; but that is a decided bar 
 to inter-communion. Nevertheless, I think 4oo highly of 
 you Irish pastors to suppose that you would prefer your 
 personal comfort to the furtherance of the gospel. I will 
 admit that you have a scriptural passage in your favour; 
 but the Church was left free to frame her own laws in these 
 minor matters, and the structure of her canons is the result 
 of experience. When you come to see that it is a question 
 of practical utility, you will wonder how you could have 
 quarrelled with her wisdom." 
 
 " "We dispute the practical utility," said the abbot, glancing 
 round with an air of complacency. " I shall lay everything 
 open to thy inspection during thy stay ; and I shall make 
 thee welcome to point out wherein we are inferior to our 
 Roman brethren." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 203 
 
 " That will not be hard," said the prelate, smiling. " I 
 will be frank enough to say, however, that were I not under 
 the roof of one who has received the sacrament of ordination, 
 I could imagine nothing more perfect in the way of house- 
 hold management. Your women are, doubtless, patterns of 
 virtue in every respect. But I say it is impossible for a 
 married man to give himself to the task of winning souls so 
 unreservedly as one who has given up family affection." 
 
 Ardal and Fergus both looked grave. The former, indeed, 
 had not quite recovered from his strange agitation. 
 
 " I have tried both states," said Maidoc, quietly, " and I 
 must give a decided preference to my present one." 
 
 The abbot seemed much amused. " It is quite possible," 
 he said, " that your army of monks have achieved successes 
 of which we cannot dream. Yet methinks they profess 
 to retire from the world chiefly for the benefit of their own 
 souls, whereas the leading aim of our religious institutions 
 hath ever been the conversion of other men. And if report 
 speak true, the foundations of our Culdee ancestors, whether 
 in Germany, Helvetia, or Italy, have been distinguished above 
 all others for their purity of life and doctrine. Where, even 
 in Clairvaux, can we find instances of more burning zeal 
 than among the early Irish missionaries ? " 
 
 " True enough," replied the prelate. " But what a glorious 
 effect there is on general society when a man or a maiden 
 renounces the innocent pleasures of life for the sake of a 
 more thorough consecration. The Church would surely be 
 the poorer were she to miss such self-denial." 
 
 " I have my own views," said the abbot, " with regard to 
 the effect on general society." 
 
 " What are they ? " asked the visitor. 
 
 " The Almighty is a great husbandman," replied the abbot ; 
 "and the human race is the first object of His care. We 
 know that by labour and intelligent skill we can make the 
 various plants produce more superb forms. Is the same not 
 
204 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 true of human culture ? I believe in the possibility of moral 
 perfection ; but I do not think that it can be attained in one 
 generation." 
 
 " I fail to perceive," said Tostius, "what bearing that has 
 on the question we are discussing. 
 
 " I am coming to it," said his host. " The highest ideal, 
 either physical or intellectual, is not likely to be reached by 
 man as we know him now ; I doubt even if he is quite capable 
 of conceiving it. Our first parents had it, perhaps, before 
 they sinned ; but Christian perfection must be a higher type 
 than even theirs was. Now, though all believers are justified, 
 they are not yet fully sanctified, nor yet instructed to the 
 degree that they might be. It is a hard pull upwards ; but 
 the higher we ourselves attain, the better vantage-ground will 
 our children have to start from. Those who have inherited 
 pure moral and great intellectual natures may produce a race 
 such as the world has not yet seen, more conformed to the 
 Divine image ; in short, you cut off the waters of progress very 
 near the fountain head when you prevent the rearing of so 
 many Christian families." 
 
 " Thou speakest truth," said ArdaL " Our pastors' 
 children are the most valuable element in this nation. Had 
 we not committed some grievous mistakes they would have 
 leavened it much more than they have done." 
 
 Uailsi looked displeased. She thought it impolitic to 
 speak of mistakes at the present moment. 
 
 " What are these ? " asked the prelate. 
 
 " They are only less hurtful than those of thy communion," 
 replied Ardal. " We have found our bishops' children so 
 valuable, that we have tried to make them all servants of the 
 Church. More would have been accomplished had we en- 
 couraged a freer circulation between the clergy and the laity." 
 
 " That never struck me before," said the abbot "I have 
 often wondered how it was that we are, as it were, divided 
 into two camps.'' 
 
THE BRIDES OP AKDMORE. 205 
 
 "And I have wondered," said Tostius, "though I need 
 scarcely have done so, -why your termon-lands are so much 
 more nourishing than those around them. There is waste 
 and desolation everywhere, save when one steps on to religious 
 property. Yet with all your good management, you have many 
 squalid villages." 
 
 " I would have thee distinguish," said the abbot, " between 
 the dwellings of our proper Daer Ceiles, or villeins, and those 
 who have only settled by permission on our lands. Swarms 
 of poor creatures fly to us every year for protection and 
 shelter ; and so frequent have been the raids of rival chieftains, 
 that they are often loth to return to their homes. It was 
 doubtless amongst these that thou hast perceived so much 
 misery. Nor can we forget that we owe to the establishment 
 of the new sees the causes of most of our civil broils." 
 
 " How so ? " asked the prelate, frowning. 
 
 " Because," replied the abbot, with a glance at his wife, 
 " the lands of our old ecclesiastical settlements have been 
 confiscated for the endowment of these new ones. Thou 
 knowest well that the changes made by Malachy at Armagh 
 have been the occasion of bloody wars." 
 
 "We had better drop that subject," said Uailsi. " Thou wilt 
 allow," she continued, turning to the prelate, "that we have 
 had sufficient experience of asceticism, Seven of our recluses 
 once died of hunger in an island of Lough Erne. We have 
 brethren who follow the primitive custom of standing up to 
 their knees in a pond for several hours before they break their 
 fast, repeating the Psalms by heart ; yet they do not speak 
 more to edification than do others." 
 
 " Our Church," said Ardal, " has allowed the widest liberty 
 in this respect. With regard to matrimony, though it might 
 be undesirable for men like Patrick and Columba, who were 
 pioneers of the gospel to utterly heathen lands, we find it most 
 beneficial to those who exercise a settled ministry. The 
 feelings which grow out of marital and parental ties are the 
 
206 THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 very same that we need to cultivate towards our flocks. We 
 learn to rule our house well before we seek to rule the 
 Church." 
 
 " We must have more talk of this to-morrow,'' said the pre- 
 late ; "for it groweth late." 
 
 He bade them all good-night, and was escorted to the 
 Grianan by the abbot. 
 
 Ardal accompanied Sorcha to the cottage. 
 
 " We have heard an interesting discussion,'' she said ; "but 
 I regretted that Grainne was not present. She might have 
 thrown some light on the subject. I wonder the Lady Uailsi 
 did not invite her." 
 
 " I regretted it too," replied Ardal. " And I wish much 
 that Bishop Tostius could speak with thy grandmother. 
 But yet it may be better as it is. Amada is too uncom- 
 promising." 
 
 " And she might have excited herself," said Sorcha, " with- 
 out doing anything towards convincing him. But Grainne 
 has more penetration than either Uailsi or M6r. The com- 
 pany would just have suited her. I fear it is because they do 
 not think her their equal." 
 
 " Then they deserve to lose her society," said Ardal. 
 " But there is a consolation. She could hardly have been 
 there without Olrud ; but perhaps thou dost regret him 
 too ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " replied Sorcha. 
 
 " He cannot see us now," said Ardal, as he laughingly im- 
 printed a kiss upon her cheek. 
 
 Sorcha started back in sudden terror. 
 
 "What is it ? " asked her lover. 
 
 " Nothing," she replied, making an effort to regain her com- 
 posure ; " it was only the shadow of yonder tree in the moon- 
 light." 
 
 " Thou art safe," said Ardal, soothing her ; " and wilt be 
 doubly so when thou art under Olrud'swing.'' 
 
THE 'BRIDES OP AKDMORE. 207 
 
 He lifted the door-latch, and, with a silent pressure of the 
 hand, they parted. 
 
 But Sorcha's cheeks were tingling painfully, and Grainne 
 noticed it. 
 
 " Why, child ! " she said. " Hath a stranger's frown made 
 thee ashamed of an honourable engagement ? " 
 
 "No," replied Sorcha. " Ardal's love ennobles me more 
 than his father's crown would do. But I have a foolish fear 
 lest something should come to tear it from me." 
 
 " Lest something should try to do so, thou wouldst say," 
 replied Grainne. "True love is not a plant of earth. It has 
 its roots in the unseen world, and these can never be reached 
 by strangers, however much its leaves may be crushed, or its 
 stalk broken." 
 
 Sorcha was silent. She felt that Grainne was right ; yet 
 she had the uneasy mind of one who has seen a vision. At 
 the moment Ardal's lips had touched hers she had discerned 
 a dim form close to the shadow of the church. A moonbeam 
 had illumined its face, showing something like Fergus' blue 
 eyes fixed reproachfully on her. She chid herself for the idle 
 fancy, and thought that her brain had been doubtless heated 
 by the excitement of listening to a discussion on topics which 
 touched her nearly. But the vision returned in her dreams. 
 Its appearance was heralded by flashes of vivid lightning 
 amidst dark clouds, and there was a lurid light about it which 
 made her flesh creep. Sorcha shook herself more than once 
 from the horrible nightmare. She dare not again close her 
 eyes, and lay awake till morning. 
 
 Ardal was also ill at ease. After leaving Sorcha he walked 
 in the direction where he had noticed that her glance was 
 turned, but a close inspection of the trees near the church 
 wall disclosed nothing unusual. Ardal, like all Celts, had a 
 tint of superstition in his nature. He could not help fancy- 
 ing that Sorcha's start might be an omen of coming ill. Yet 
 the cause of his anxiety lay deeper. He had not forgotten the 
 
208 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOKE. 
 
 prelate's glance. Certain episodes of his life came crowding 
 on his recollection. No, the two things were wholly dis- 
 tinct. The past was buried and forgotten ; there could arise 
 no ghost from its grave. 
 
 But Bishop Tostius had a face which deserved study. It 
 was a mild face, lighted by a pair of soft grey eyes. Kind 
 eyes, Ardal thought ; but yet capable of emitting a beam which 
 went through your very soul. Did anything there shrink from 
 such scrutiny ? Ardal feared not to confess to God. Why 
 should he be thus sensitive to the eye of a fellow-mortal ? 
 
CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 Bishop Tostius had also retired to rest. "Weary in body, he 
 soon fell asleep ; yet awoke long before daylight to ponder over 
 his strange surroundings. He had availed himself of all the 
 dispensations which the Church allows to travellers, but he 
 had now a trembling consciousness that such indulgence 
 might be carried too far for his peace of mind. Eising from 
 his comfortable bed, he knelt with bare knees on the cold 
 rushes, repeating a few paters and aves till he became 
 thoroughly awake. 
 
 He then threw himself again on his couch, clasping a small 
 ivory crucifix to his breast. He sighed deeply as he thought 
 of the sufferings it represented, and then of the hard impeni- 
 tence which the sight of them failed to melt. 
 
 The experiences of the past day had made a strong im- 
 pression on him — not a healthful one altogether. For the 
 sunlight which brings vigour and refreshment to the green 
 plant, fails to affect the one which is artificially dyed. Yet 
 the false colouring had not as yet passed into the very core 
 of Bishop Tostius' nature. Eeason had not wholly yielded 
 the victory to obedience. She sometimes struggled to get 
 into a broader groove than that in which her tyrannical ruler 
 confined her. 
 
 It was a strange position for a devotee of the Catholic 
 Church. He had been sent to try his influence on a set of 
 rebellious sectaries. He could not well hope to succeed 
 
 15 
 
210 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOKE. 
 
 without understanding his opponent's position, and that 
 seemed to Tostius a most peculiar one. 
 
 " It must be true," he thought, " that the devil can trans- 
 form himself into an angel of light. How can these men 
 utter holy words whilst separating themselves from the Foun- 
 tain of truth? My heart bleeds for these young maidens. 
 They are too noble to be the prey of dangerous error. The 
 daughters of Erin are a fine race. Their intellect has reached 
 a higher development than that of their Saxon or Provencal 
 sisters. Could I do aught to save these two ? They have 
 reason, but it would be hopeless to work on it amidst their 
 present surroundings. I could beat any of these bishops 
 singly in an argument, but the whole system is so cunningly 
 framed that every joint of its armour will resist the entrance 
 of truth. Our blessed Pontiff was right in naming these 
 colleges nurseries of vice. I have thought the expression 
 harsh, but now I have looked into the root of the matter. 
 Ah, these maidens ! The Church has surely set her seal on 
 them when she has awakened such a longing for their welfare 
 in my heart.'' 
 
 The prelate fell asleep again. He could not help wondering, 
 when he awoke, why the fate of these lovely girls should 
 concern him more than that of the other dwellers at Ardmore. 
 The souls of all were surely precious. 
 
 " The abbot seems a learned man. Would that he could 
 only taste the happiness of a sincere consecration ! He is 
 trying to serve God and the world," thought Tostius. "He 
 has never really borne the Saviour's cross. He actually makes 
 a merit of indulging his own inclinations. But God will have 
 the whole heart from those who serve in His sanctuary." 
 
 The two priests now came to receive his morning benedic- 
 tion. 
 
 " How did ye spend the evening ? " he asked. 
 
 " Iu truth, sorrily," replied the elder. " My cheeks grew 
 hot at the pretensions of these low men who dare to puff each 
 
THE BEIDES OF ABDMOEE. 211 
 
 other up with the noblest of titles. I wonder that they 
 tremble not to walk near their own cliffs. The rocks might 
 fall on them." 
 
 " Did ye argue on those subjects whereon they are dis- 
 obedient ? " asked the prelate. 
 
 "Aye, truly," replied the other priest. " But I am fain to 
 stop my ears at blasphemy. The women speak with levity on 
 sacred themes ; also a dark-visaged man, whom they say is 
 a stranger, spoke very roughly of our gracious Mother, the 
 Church." 
 
 " Ye bore yourselves with Christian meekness, I trust,'' 
 said the bishop. 
 
 Both priests looked down. 
 
 " You are in fault," he continued. " You see much that 
 is terrible here. But lay it to your hearts that ye answer no 
 man until ye have silently repeated three aves. Then may 
 the fire of honest indignation burn itself down to a gentle 
 heat whilst ye think of Her whose servants ye are." 
 
 " We will," answered both the ecclesiastics, as they kissed 
 his hand. " We are bidden to eat with the herd in the re- 
 fectory. Thou, my lord, art expected at the abbot's table." 
 
 Tostius glanced for a few moments at the wide panorama 
 of forest and green meadow which lay stretched out almost at 
 his feet ; then at the white-crested waves beating in upon the 
 rocky shore. " Erin," he murmured to himself, " thy bright 
 emblem sparkles on the finger of a foreign monarch. When 
 will the eastern breeze waft his ships over that briny expanse 
 to claim thee for the breastplate of God's high priest ? " 
 
 He then descended by a flight of steps cut in the turfy 
 side of the rath, and entered the door of the abbot's dwelling. 
 He found the fair Uailsi presiding at a smaller board. Her 
 husband and daughter sat round it, but none of the former 
 guests save Fergus. 
 
 " I have arranged," said his host, " that thou and thy com- 
 panions shall ride with me over our lands, that you may note 
 
212 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE. 
 
 our husbandry, and visiting some of the villages may see 
 what order reigns in them. We ourselves do not hold them 
 perfect, but Bishop Fergus tells me that he has seen worse on 
 the domains of Clugny." 
 
 "We have a hard battle with ignorance," replied the 
 prelate. " And there is a poverty which is permitted to exist 
 for the manifestation of the Christian virtues. It is not by 
 the outward semblance that we may judge of men's spiritual 
 condition.'' 
 
 " Thou speakest truly," replied the abbot. " Yet our ex- 
 perience is that godliness, being in a manner profitable for this 
 life, implants within the rudest breast a love of order which 
 cannot fail to put forth visible blossoms. My wife has asked 
 the friends who were here last night to grace our supper-table 
 again with their presence. I have sought to introduce to thee 
 chiefly those who are of reputation amongst us for their 
 superior attainments." 
 
 " I judged as much,'' replied Tostius. 
 
 "I think I shall meet thy wishes," continued the abbot, 
 " if I seek to make thee enter thoroughly into our daily life. 
 We rise with the sun, aroused by the peal of our silver bell, 
 and we begin the day with social worship. Those married 
 men who have houses of their own conduct it in private. The 
 others assemble in the church, where each of the twelve 
 bishops who form our council takes it in turn to officiate. I 
 would have conducted thee thither this morning had I been 
 quite sure that it would be agreeable to thee. We have a 
 short service before sunset, however, when thou wilt be wel- 
 come to witness or join in our devotions." 
 
 " Excuse me," replied Tostius, looking much embarrassed. 
 " I shall be delighted to enter, as far as I may, into your 
 daily avocations. But I am under vows of strict obedience 
 to my ecclesiastical superiors, and I may not, without 
 soiling my conscience, assist at any act of worship not con- 
 ducted in an orthodox manner." 
 
TBS BRIDES OF ABDM0BE. 213 
 
 The abbot's countenance fell, whilst Uailsi's lip curled with 
 a scornful smile. 
 
 " By orthodox," said Mor, " I presume thou wouldst say 
 whatever has not been sanctioned by the Bishop of Borne ? " 
 
 " Not so," replied Tostius. " What is affirmed by the 
 decrees of general councils, which ye do not acknowledge." 
 
 " For that reason," said Mdr, ■" we eannot argue the ques- 
 tion of our differences with you on fair terms. Our friend 
 here," she continued, glancing at Fergus, " and Bishop Ardal 
 have told us that they frequently formed part of the audience 
 at Catholic services during their travels. Our bishops place 
 no restraint on our making ourselves acquainted with your 
 ways, or entering into the spirit of them as far as our con- 
 sciences will allow. It is impossible that you should under- 
 stand us without penetrating into the sanctuaries of our 
 devotion." 
 
 "Not so impossible as thou thinkest," replied the prelate. 
 " Those on whom the Almighty has set the visible seal of 
 consecration are gifted with the power of perceiving what 
 others wot not of." 
 
 " This discussion is fruitless," said the abbot. "Our guest, 
 perhaps, might like to see some of thy transcriptions." 
 
 Mor stepped lightly to a coffer of black oak, and bringing 
 from it two volumes encased in embossed leather, opened them 
 out before the prelate. 
 
 He crossed himself, and then turned over the leaves with 
 reverence. Baising his eyes from the brilliant letters he fixed 
 them inquiringly on her face. 
 
 " Who instructed thee ? " he asked. 
 
 " My mother," replied M6r. " It has long been an accom- 
 plishment in her family ; but I have profited much by the 
 lessons of an aged bishop." 
 
 "My daughter," said Uailsi, "is diligent in other good 
 works. She visits the sick and aged, dispensing to them both 
 bodily and spiritual comfort. None of our Daer Ceiles can 
 
214 THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 read the Scriptures for themselves, though some of our bishops 
 hope that the day may come when they will accomplish this. 
 But thou canst not see her at this work." 
 
 " Why not ? " asked the prelate. 
 
 "Because," replied M6r, " the essence of it is that it be 
 done in secret. I should do violence to my nature were it 
 otherwise. Besides," she added with a mischievous smile, 
 " would that not be a breaking of thy vows ? " 
 
 "How so ? '' exclaimed Tostius, starting. " Thou dost not 
 take on thyself to officiate as a prieet — to offer the body of our 
 blessed Lord to the common people." 
 
 "I do more," replied the maiden. "I offer them Himself 
 — spiritually of course. I do not dispense the sacraments, 
 but yet I engage in religious services." 
 
 The prelate remained silent for a few minutes. It seemed 
 as if an abyss of corruption were opening itself up to his view. 
 The canker of error must have eaten very deep when a 
 simple girl could dare to usurp functions that might well be 
 envied by angels. He trembled at the prospect of new reve- 
 lations. 
 
 The day passed away in active exercise. He saw many 
 things of which he understood little, yet he returned to the 
 college with a sense of having witnessed much worldly pros- 
 perity. 
 
 " I cannot quite comprehend thy position," he said to the 
 abbot, when they were all gathered round the blazing fire. 
 " Thou art not an ordained bishop." 
 
 " No," replied his host. " The early Fathers, I believe, 
 made less distinction between the titles of bishop and pres- 
 byter than we do. The sainted Columba, to whose clan I 
 belong, had, like Patrick, like Carthagh, Declan, and other 
 founders of monasteries, no higher title than that of presbyter. 
 In memory of him, those of the Cinel Conaill who aspire to 
 the office of abbot neglect to take the episcopal ordination ; 
 although they take care to be well qualified for it. It is an 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 215 
 
 anomaly, of course, that a simple presbyter should have rule 
 over bishops ;* but yet it hath the advantage of showing them 
 the rock from whence they were hewn.'' 
 
 " Dost thou dispense the sacraments ?" asked Tostius. 
 
 "A presbyter may properly do so," replied the abbot. 
 " Thou knowest it well, if thou hast studied the writings of 
 Hilary and of Jerome. Yet our custom confineth the duty 
 to bishops, save in the case of an abbot like myself. My 
 kinsman, Columba, did not scruple to ordain a king." 
 
 "You have much liberty of action," said the prelate. 
 " But suppose that the whole of Christendom were in the dis- 
 jointed condition which your views would impose on it, how 
 would it have been possible to drive the Saracens from the 
 Holy Place?" 
 
 " That has sometimes occurred to me," said the abbot. " I 
 must confess there is something glorious in the sight of a 
 Peter and a Bernard summoning hosts of warriors to deliver 
 the faithful from an oppressive bondage." 
 
 " Thou speakest well," said Ardal. " No power but that 
 of the Boman bishop could have accomplished it. It is the 
 one thing which reconciles me to the fact of so many having 
 departed from the primitive simplicity of Church government. 
 I would fain hope only for a time — until the great work of 
 beating back the false prophet be accomplished." 
 
 " They that take the sword shall perish by the sword," said 
 Maidoc, in a soft whisper. 
 
 " Thou hast spoken of primitive simplicity," said the pre- 
 late. " But Irenaeus, whom you so often quote as one of your 
 spiritual ancestors, was ever ready to show honour to the 
 successor of Peter." 
 
 "He may have done so," replied Ardal, "though his 
 
 homage fell far short of thine. We are far from placing him 
 
 or any of the Fathers on a level with the Apostles. To me 
 
 the Church is like an apple tree, whose fruit will have the 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
216 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 finest flavour in its old age. Consider the matter for a mo- 
 ment. Her first converts came straight out of heathenism ; 
 they were habituated to its pernicious customs, and could not 
 expect to equal in knowledge those who had been reared in 
 the fear of God from their infancy. I firmly believe that we 
 have had Irish missionaries who excelled some of the so-called 
 Fathers. And it doth not yet appear what the saints shall 
 be in the latter times." 
 
 " Yes," said Fergus. " The true Church is only building. 
 We lay her foundations in the mud of this world ; and it will 
 be for after ages to add the polished top-stones. We become 
 more delicate about the quality of our work as we proceed." 
 
 "But I have not observed," said Tostius, "that you excel 
 so much in your sacred architecture. You, doubtless, my 
 young friends, have seen the new cathedral on the Thames. 
 Have you aught in Erin to compare with it ? " 
 
 "Nay, verily," said the abbot, "although I might point 
 thee to the Eock of Cashel. But Bishop Fergus spoke in a 
 figure. The stones which he would polish are the living ones, 
 the men and women who break bread with us. The Church's 
 foundations are laid very laboriously in our schools." 
 
 " And the work requires skill," said M6r. " It is not so 
 easy to assign to each stone its place, and the chiselling is 
 done by the Almighty Architect. Our part lies in submitting 
 to the process." 
 
 " These are beautiful ideas," said Tostius; "but I fear ye 
 will find that they are fanciful when reduced to practice. 
 The plan of submission to a heaven-appointed Head is a more 
 effectual one." 
 
 " Would that it were so ! " said Ardal. " We should not 
 find the work quite so difficult. Your clergy are admirably 
 organized for the end they have in view ; but if that end be 
 the raising of the masses, I fear that their suooess is not equal 
 to their efforts." 
 
 " Thou must have faith in God," said the prelate. 
 
THE BBIDES OF AEDMOEE. 217 
 
 " Certainly," replied Ardal, " else we might give in at once. 
 But suppose for an instant that this organisation were a mis- 
 take. It will soon have swallowed up all other agencies and 
 he like a huge battering-ram, which, if it he turned in the 
 wrong direction, will work terrible mischief." 
 
 " It could not possibly be so," said the prelate. 
 
 " But, if it were," persisted Ardal, "it would crash the life 
 out of whole peoples. The souls of men would lie shattered 
 in the track of its wheels." 
 
 Bishop Tostius fixed his keen eyes on the speaker. " Take 
 heed to thyself," he said, solemnly, " thou wilt have to answer 
 for the fulfilment of thine own mission ; thou hast taken the 
 responsibility in a manner alone." 
 
 Ardal's cheek reddened. It was some minutes before he 
 spoke. 
 
 " I have done so," he said, " and I have no wish to shift 
 it on to others ; but I should have had to answer for more 
 had I refused it." 
 
 The prelate next morning bade his kind hosts farewell. 
 The abbot, with a few of the bishops, accompanied him to 
 one of the crosses which marked the verge of their territory ; 
 and Tostius grasped their hands with a consciousness that 
 he was no nearer to the object of his mission. The very 
 strains of his choristers, as they chanted their midday 
 anthem, fell mournfully on his ear. 
 
 " It must be," he muttered to himself. " That family 
 must be scattered. "What chance had I against their united 
 phalanx? Christianus told me that persuasion would fail. 
 But these maidens must at least be snatched as brands from 
 the burning." 
 
 " I wonder," said Ardal, as he sat at the cottage door 
 with Amada, "what motive can have impelled that proud 
 man hither. Meseemed as if a hawk were being nourished 
 in our dovecot." 
 
 " I saw him once," replied Anmda, " and methought he 
 
218 
 
 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOItE. 
 
 had a hawk's eye. His coming bodes no good, for all so 
 fair spoken as thou sayest he was. But thou hast doubtless 
 seen many such in thy travels." 
 
 " Yea," replied Ardal. " He is a good specimen of an 
 honest priest" 
 
 "Honest!" exclaimed Amada. "They know not what 
 honesty is. The man must have been convinced, from what 
 he saw, that our people are doing as much good as if they 
 were walking in his way; yet thou sayest he would not 
 admit it." 
 
 " Thou canst not see with his eyes," replied Ardal. " He 
 is shut up, as it were, behind a network of minute rules. 
 Anything that does not fit into the squares of these has no 
 business to exist. There is, in the first place, a barrier to 
 his understanding us in the prohibition to witness our social 
 worship." 
 
 "Yea," replied Amada; "they shut their eyes to the 
 light, but all the same they will be judged for not seeing. If 
 I had been the abbot, I should not have been so ready to 
 entertain him." 
 
 Ardal could not help smiling. " There are black sheep in 
 every fold of the Saviour's flock," he answered; "but I will 
 not allow that Tostius is one of them. I have a certain 
 esteem for him. I should not wonder if he were nearer the 
 kingdom of heaven than some of our bishops, who, if they 
 hold more correct views, do so in such a cold way that you 
 cannot think their heart is in their work. I admire zeal, 
 though it be in a wrong cause. I would rather that 
 Bishop Tostius tried to convert me. He shows that he 
 thinks me worth something, and is more of a Christian in 
 doing so than if he scorned us as some of his brethren do." 
 
 " Thou wilt come to grief with thy charity," said Amada. 
 " I don't want to judge Bishop Tostius any more than I 
 want him to judge me ; but I am glad he is gone." 
 
CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 Fergus had not formed part of the prelate's escort. He had 
 remained at home on the plea of wishing an extra hour for 
 study. He soon clambered over the rath, and found his way 
 into the forest, where he fancied that he would be likely to 
 meet either with Sorcha or with M6r. 
 
 What was his motive for wishing to meet with Sorcha ? 
 It was an impulse of which he could give no account. She 
 had for ever passed out of his reach ; yet somehow he thought 
 he might console himself with picturing to himself what 
 might have been. He was in a strange humour. He longed 
 for the painful bliss of gazing on the beauty he had lost, and 
 perhaps drawing from its lips a confession of regret, or of 
 seeing in its eyes a glance of pity. He was trusting to a 
 chapter of accidents for the shaping of his resolves. 
 
 He walked quickly, devoured by a feverish anxiety. Other 
 female forms met his gaze on the turfy highway ; but none 
 of them had any meaning for him. Which of the two 
 beloved ones would present herself? He almost wished that 
 fortune would give him the pleasure of troubling Ardal's 
 serenity. 
 
 At length he discerned the gleam of a white veil in the 
 distance, crowning a form remarkable for its straightness. It 
 approached with a gliding motion, different from the heavy 
 lumbering swing of a peasant. Fergus sat on a fallen pine 
 log, and fixed his eyes on a parchment scroll. 
 
220 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE. 
 
 He could hear his own heart beat. The stillness seemed 
 to grow more intense, and the soft earth failed to carry to 
 his ear the sound of any footfall. 
 
 He at length ventured to look straight before him. No 
 figure was there. 
 
 Fergus passed his hand over his eyes. The suspense was 
 getting intolerable. To smother it he began repeating to 
 himself the third canto of the Iliad. 
 
 He had only got as far as the descent of Iris, when a clear, 
 cheerful voice exclaimed, " Bishop O'Flannahan ? " 
 
 He looked up, and was conscious of blushing painfully. 
 The bright clear eyes of M6r were fixed upon him. She 
 came forward as he rose. 
 
 "The ground is damp," she observed. "There is little 
 sunlight to dry the dews before midday. What readest 
 thou ? " 
 
 "The Iliad!" she exclaimed. "Is that thy favourite 
 book ? " 
 
 "It is for the present," replied Fergus. "No, I forgot; 
 there is one that transcends it in beauty as much as a bunch 
 of flowerets -lifting their heads in the sunlit dew transcends 
 one that is heavy with nightly showers ; but not always can 
 I get a glimpse of the precious volume." 
 
 " What can that be ? " asked Mor. 
 
 " Thou knowest," replied Fergus, looking up in her face 
 with a meaning smile. " Thou canst, when thou wilt, place 
 a seal on it hard as the fissured rock." 
 
 " I fear," said Mor, " that thou hast studied too well the 
 tongue of Provence, which is not altogether in accord with 
 that in use amongst us." 
 
 " No, maiden," replied Fergus ; " the tongue that I use 
 hath a tone soft and loud as the winds which sweep through 
 the forest, and hath been in accord with man's soul sinoe the 
 days of Eden. It was spoken when the world was young ; 
 for the sons of God learned to use it towards the daughters 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 221 
 
 of men. It varies its accent in every age, but its grammar 
 is substantially the same.'' 
 
 A faint colour overspread Mor's cheek. Fergus was quick 
 to detect it. ' 
 
 " Thou hast not gone with our guest this morning," she 
 said. " Methinks he looked with longing eyes on thee and 
 on Bishop Ardal. He would willingly have laid his conse- 
 crating hand on thee." 
 
 A slight shrinking was discernible in Fergus. "Doubtless," 
 he replied, pursing out his lips in a manner peculiar to him- 
 self, " he thinks the young boughs will bend more readily to 
 the south-eastern wind. Our Irish oaks are of a tougher 
 fibre than it liketh him." 
 
 "He seemed much startled," continued M6r, "at the 
 notion of my visits to these villagers. Do the maidens of 
 Italy never read the Holy Book to the unlearned ? " 
 
 "No," replied Fergus; "their flashing eyes and their 
 coral lips do duty only in discerning and praising the valour 
 of those whose fame rises only in blood, and in urging them 
 to turn their death-giving weapons against the infidel. There 
 are those who delight in deeds of mercy, but these array 
 themselves in dusky attire, withdrawing themselves from the 
 love of man." 
 
 " Doth their faith not teach them," said Mdr, " that every 
 Christian had his or her part to bear in the ministry of 
 reconciliation ; that we are consecrated priests by the blood 
 which has saved ourselves ; that we serve an unseen altar — 
 though for the order of the Church, the dispensation of the 
 sacraments as well as the duty of public teaching is confided 
 to those specially appointed and set apart ? " 
 
 " All is special in the Catholic system," replied Fergus. 
 " God's gentle laws have been made to appear so hard by it, 
 that most people are satisfied with vicarious merit. But 
 I have reason to rejoice that thou wert born under brighter 
 stars. It would undoubtedly have made a recluse of thee." 
 
222 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE. 
 
 " Perhaps that is not such an unhappy life," replied M6r. 
 " I should have chosen it in preference to the other." 
 
 " Yet it is a wretched one in some respects," said Fergus. 
 " Thou wouldst have done thy duty to God no better by being 
 cruel to thy fellow-creatures." 
 
 " I hope I should have been cruel to no one," replied 
 M6r. 
 
 Fergus's blue eyes sparkled whilst he looked at her. " To 
 me thou wouldst," he said. 
 
 " Why ? " asked M6r, simply. 
 
 " Seest thou yonder bush ? " said Fergus. " It hath grown 
 crooked, and whilst its leaves cluster thickly on one side, there 
 is little but bare stalks on the other." 
 
 " Yea," replied M6r. " It seeketh to get at the sunlight, 
 and sendeth out its leaves in only one direction." 
 
 " Suppose that the golden beam marked it not," said 
 Fergus, " or bent itself so as to fall a few inches aside, 
 would that not be cruel ? " 
 
 " It would, in sooth," replied M6r. " But I see not what 
 a hazel-bush hath to do with me." 
 
 " There are beams of light in thine eyes," replied Fergus. 
 " Should they mistake the place of their falling, all the green 
 within me must wither and die." 
 
 " Thou art a poet," said M6r. " They who wear the 
 feather robe are privileged. Their words must not be taken 
 as the word of a Brehon." 
 
 Fergus stood suddenly still. " How shall I convince thee ?" 
 he said. " Mine is the fate of Cassandra, though I prophesy 
 not evil. Wouldst thou have me speak plainly? M6r, I 
 love thee." 
 
 There was intense agitation in his voice. M6r's eyes were 
 cast down. It was a very sweet surprise to her; yet she 
 feared that her dream might be a troubled one, even when it 
 seemed possible for it to be realised. 
 
 " Hast thou asked me of my father ?" she said, timidly. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 223 
 
 Fergus took her hand. "Listen," he cried, passionately; 
 " I know full well that I have raised my eyes to the downy 
 hues of forbidden fruit. The world would think me no match 
 for a daughter of the Cinel Conaill ; yet thou wilt never find 
 a heart that beats more warmly than mine does." 
 
 " We need not ask the world," said M6r, gently. "My 
 parents' approval would be enough." 
 
 " Thou speakest rashly," cried Fergus, holding her hand 
 against his arm. "If the lightest breath carry it to thy 
 father's ears, I am banished from Ardmore." 
 
 " Thou doest him wrong," said M6r. " I will break it to 
 him. He will never cross my wishes, unless they are un- 
 reasonable." 
 
 " Thou thinkest so," said Fergus, " because he hath been 
 ever kind. But yonder blue rolling sea which carries the 
 fair coracle so lightly can form itself into white swelling 
 billows, which will dash the frail skiff to pieces. I have 
 heard thy father say, when he hath been in the company of 
 one or two men, that he would have no meanly-born churl 
 for a son-in-law, and that he had reared thee to bestow thee 
 in good time on one who would transplant thee to a home as 
 distinguished as that he would pluck thee from. Now," 
 continued Fergus, drawing himself up, "I feel that I could 
 win such a home, if I had the hope of thy blooming in it ; 
 but at this moment thou knowest that it is yet to frame." 
 
 The hand which he held trembled. " But if I urge com- 
 pliance on him," said M6r, " I know he will not refuse. 
 There is the heart of an humble Christian beneath the 
 lordly one of the Hy-Nialls.'' 
 
 Fergus smiled with some bitterness. " Do it if thou wilt," 
 he said ; " but thou wilt ruin me." 
 
 M6r looked inexpressibly sad. 
 
 " Thy candour would cost thee nothing," he continued. 
 " Thy father will say I have won thee with craft ; that I have 
 practised on thy ignorance of the world ; and that the honour 
 
224 
 
 THE BMDES OF AKDMOHE. 
 
 in my breast should have reined my tongue. I might bow to 
 his anger for a while, for we are young enough to wait ; but 
 thy mother's influence would be persistent as the north- 
 eastern blast — the pride of race is as a blazing fire within 
 her." 
 
 " What dost thou counsel, then ? " asked M6r. 
 
 Fergus pressed her hand warmly. " Promise me," he 
 said, " that thou wilt never breathe a word of it to any one 
 till the moment that I allow thee.'' 
 
 M6r looked much distressed. " I can scarcely think," she 
 said, " that it is lawful to give such a promise. I have never 
 yet done anything without my parents' knowledge." 
 
 " But there is scriptural authority," said Fergus, '.' for a 
 woman obeying her husband's wishes before those of her 
 parents. Has that no reflex effect? I ask thee to show 
 them no active disobedience. Thou art not called on to 
 account to them for tbe employment of every moment. Thy 
 father's displeasure, were it only temporary, would injure me 
 beyond hope of reparation. Though his power be nominally 
 curtailed by the council of the twelve fathers, thou knowest 
 that he is practically a despot with regard to those bishops 
 who have not yet received charges. And I have not, like 
 Ardal, powerful friends on whom I can fall back." 
 
 " But his opposition is only suspected," said Mdr. "We 
 have done nothing to find out if it exist It hardly looks 
 like treating him fairly." 
 
 The tears were now rolling down her cheeks. Fergus 
 could not resist kissing them away. 
 
 "Beauteous one," he said; "be not so like to a rill- 
 washed rock. If thou love me thou must trust me. Thinkest 
 thou that I would ask thee to do it without urgent reason? " 
 
 "Thou wouldst not," replied M6r. "But it seemeth 
 hard." 
 
 " Few people find their path otherwise," said Fergus. 
 " Our love is something worth suffering for." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 225 
 
 Mdr walked on quietly by his side. The hour had come of 
 which she had been foolishly dreaming ; and there was a 
 very bitter drop in the cup of nectar which was being held to 
 her lips. She had expected some conflicts with her mother ; 
 but she could have better nerved herself to brave them than 
 to carry out a plan of concealment. She had imagined her- 
 self a very Helo'ise in self-denying constancy ; now it seemed 
 as if she were playing the part of a coward 
 
 " But perhaps he is right," she thought. " I have no 
 business to endanger his prospects by my scruples. It will 
 be only for a short time, until he can offer me a settled home ; 
 and something may meanwhile occur to change the course of 
 things. But I can never look either of my parents straight 
 in the face. Would it not have been nobler in Fergus to 
 have waited a few months ? Ah ! but then I might have lost 
 him." 
 
 She returned home, happy, yet troubled. She started 
 when her mother spoke to her, and replied in subdued 
 accents. Had any one cared to notice her, they would have 
 seen that there was a change in her manner when at the 
 midday meal. She was no longer the fearless girl who 
 seemed to have inherited the pride of a hundred generations ; 
 she had a gentle address, a demeanour which made her 
 more womanly ; yet her beaming eyes had lost half their 
 brightness. There was a pathetic tenderness in them which 
 appealed for sympathy. Her mother noticed it, but attributed 
 it to her disappointment about Ardal. 
 
 " I wish thou wouldst try to be livelier, M6r," she said. 
 "Bishop Fergus was very witty to-day ; thou mightest have 
 laughed a little." 
 
 " Laughed I not, mother ? " asked Mdr. 
 
 " In a most quiet way," replied Uailsi. " I love not to see 
 thy face ripple with levity, but I wish thee not to appear less 
 sprightly than Sorcha. She is getting more dignity than 
 thou hast. She is only a spouse as yet, and thou art the 
 
 16 
 
226 THE BEIDES OF ARDMOKE. 
 
 abbot's daughter. Thou hast, perhaps, borne thyself too 
 loftily in the past." 
 
 " I have no regrets about Ardal," replied Mor. " Indeed, 
 I feel not as if I could have loved him now, had he been 
 my suitor. And if my dignity frightened him, is there no 
 danger of its having the same effect on another ? " 
 
 " Yea, my ohild," replied Uailsi. " I should like thy 
 manner of to-day had a proper suitor been present, though 
 thou mightest well exert thyself a little more in that case. 
 Humility hath a charm which is too fine to throw away on 
 our every-day company. Thou must not show it to the men 
 of Ardmore." 
 
 "But thou knowest," said M6r, "that I can only be what 
 I am. I must be myself, whatever company I am in." 
 
 Uailsi sighed, and murmured more than ever against the 
 fate which had fixed her daughter's lot so far from a royal 
 court. 
 
 Days slipped past, but brought little change with them. 
 M6r felt herself enveloped in the incense-cloud of flattery. 
 Her secret misgivings were amply compensated by her lover's 
 ceaseless homage. From the time of her uprising until the 
 shadows gathered over the evening sky, he managed to make 
 her feel his presence in a thousand delicate ways, and 
 oftentimes they met to hold sweet converse about their past 
 and their future. 
 
 The whole current of Mor's nature ran into a new channel. 
 She counted the hours till she could be alone with the man 
 to whom she had unwittingly surrendered her freedom of 
 action ; she hung on his glance as the opening rose watches 
 for the unveiling of the sunshine. She wondered how, with 
 him near her, she could ever have been induced to think of 
 Ardal. As a closer intercourse made her better acquainted 
 with his intellectual gifts, she found fresh cause for rejoicing 
 that she had become a sharer in them. Ardal was accom- 
 plished, but he lacked the glitter and sparkle of Fergus. M6r 
 
THE BRIDES OF AHDMOEE. 227 
 
 was not aware that some men pay women a higher com- 
 pliment by their esteem than others could possibly do by 
 their love. 
 
 Yet there were times in the loneliness of the night when 
 M6r felt that all was not as it should be. She had intended 
 to be a submissive spouse, but she had never dreamed of 
 carrying her obedience to the length which Fergus exacted 
 from her. Had she been a convert to the Bomish system, 
 having bowed to the power of the keys, whilst keenly alive to 
 the sin of Mariolatry, she could not have been more per- 
 plexed. It was hard for her to understand why people 
 should choose crooked ways for attaining their objects. Mor 
 loved the straight road. It might be harder and less pic- 
 turesque at times, but it had milestones which made it im- 
 possible for the stupidest to lose their way on it. "My 
 parents might have been in the wrong had they forbidden 
 our union," she thought ; " but I cannot bear the idea of our 
 acting unjustly to them. I must have another talk with 
 Fergus about it." 
 
 " Thou hast known Amada long,'' she remarked, as they 
 were wandering in the woods together. 
 
 " Yea," replied her lover. " She had an hospitable house 
 while her husband lived, and we were their near neighbours." 
 
 " Were they not very poor," asked Mdr, " before her 
 daughter married Mael-Patrick ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Fergus. " They were like the mists that 
 lie at the bottom of yonder valley. The wind of fortune 
 hath raised them to sunnier slopes, or rather, I should have 
 said, Amada's own wit. She hath a scheming brain." 
 
 Mor opened her eyes very wide. " I never heard that 
 Amada bore such a character," she replied. 
 
 "It may be that I speak too strongly," said Fergus; 
 " yet hath she known how to place herself before the breeze 
 of prosperity. Witness how well she hath managed for 
 Sorcha. Grainne is fashioned after her likeness, but she 
 
228 THE BEIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 hath a deeper tint of worldliness. I fancy it is she who 
 hath arranged this match with Ardal." 
 
 " Then," said Mor, smiling, " she hath done better for 
 her sister's child than for herself. Olrud hath no admirers." 
 
 " She married him," replied Fergus, " at the moment when 
 the blasts of misfortune threatened to drive them into ruin. 
 They would never have come together under the soft gales of 
 happiness. As it is, the heaven of their married life is as 
 full of quarrels as was that of Olympus.'' 
 
 " Is it possible ? " exclaimed M6r, startled. 
 
 " In a bishop's household," said Fergus. " Thinkest thou 
 that it would be possible for us ? " 
 
 A warm pressure of the hand accompanied this question. 
 
 " I trust not," said M6r. " But how knowest thou this ?" 
 
 "It was on all tongues at Inisf alien," replied Fergus. 
 " I have been told that they were as the struggling waves 
 at the mouth of the Suir. They have blended together now, 
 but thou canst trace the marks of the conflict on their faces, 
 especially on Olrud's. He is like a cliff that has weathered 
 many storms." 
 
 " He hath wrinkles enough," observed M6r ; " but I 
 thought they were natural to him, his sister Sigurda having 
 the same. But I had thought better of Grainne.'' 
 
 There was silence for a few minutes. Then Mor spoke — 
 
 " Knowest thou that I am very unhappy sometimes ? " 
 
 " Thou, my blooming one ! " exclaimed Fergus. 
 
 " Because of my parents," continued M6r. " Wilt thou 
 not let me tell them of our love ? " 
 
 Her eyes were streaming with tears. A dark frown 
 gathered over Fergus's face. He let go her hand. 
 
 " Thou lovest me not," he said, sullenly. 
 
 "Thou art unkind to say so," replied M6r. "Would I 
 seek these lonely paths with thee if I did not ? And have I 
 not borne day after day the pain of feeling like a hypocrite, 
 all for thy sake ? " 
 
TEE BRIBES OF ARDMORE. 229 
 
 " Then I will tell thee," said Fergus, "that thou mayest 
 unbosom thyself this night, if thou wilt, and thou wilt be 
 content, for thou shalt never see me again." 
 
 M6r grasped his arm convulsively. He walked more 
 quickly, as if seeking to get away from her. 
 
 "Listen," she said, panting for breath. "Fergus, thou 
 usest me like a child. Thou wouldst have me obey thee — 
 and thou knowest if I have done it — yet thou givest me no 
 reason for anything." 
 
 There was a tone of keen reproach in her voice. Fergus 
 felt it ; he slackened his pace. 
 
 " Thou art not resolved to tell it ? " he said. 
 
 " No," replied M6r. " I but asked thee to think if we 
 might not risk it." 
 
 " I am willing to give thee up," he said, " much as I love 
 thee ; for I know it were vain for thee to try and be happy 
 without trusting me." 
 
 " I do trust thee," replied M6r, drying her tears, " but I 
 am weak and foolish sometimes. I cannot help asking for a 
 reason." 
 
 " I must not tell thee everything," replied Fergus. " I am 
 sure of its coming right soon, but thou mu3t let me judge 
 when and how to make the disclosure. Meanwhile, however, 
 I will let thee try an experiment." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked M6r, eagerly. 
 
 " I would not tell thee of it," he said, " if I felt not sure of 
 thy love. Speak of me before either of thy parents in the 
 light of a suitor for some one else. Perhaps thou wilt learn 
 something from what they say." 
 
 There was a shade of melancholy on his face. M6r felt 
 ashamed of herself. 
 
 " I will not try it," she said ; " but I will cease mur- 
 muring." 
 
 Fergus replaced her hand on his arm, and they walked 
 homewards. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 It was a calm Sabbath afternoon, and the family of Ardmore 
 were enjoying the season of quiet secured for them by the 
 strict laws of their Church ; for the Irish of that day under- 
 stood the Fourth Commandment as literally as did the 
 children of Israel. All unnecessary work was postponed, 
 and wherever a man was on Saturday night, there must he 
 remain until Monday morning. Strong arms, nimble fingers, 
 and active brains were refreshed by full exposure to the 
 breezes which thus periodically blew upon them from the 
 spiritual Eden. 
 
 A few hours before sunset Sorcha enveloped herself in an 
 ample brat, or mantle of dark wool bordered with green 
 tartan, and fastened on the left shoulder by a silver, gem- 
 studded brooch. Her brown locks peeped from beneath the 
 gaudily- embroidered veil of white linen, which, falling -on 
 her neck, left her sweet face exposed. 
 
 " Whither goest thou, child ? " asked Amada. 
 
 "He waiteth for me outside," she replied, in a tone just 
 loud enough to reach her grandmother's ear. 
 
 " Who ? Bishop Ardal ? " exclaimed the latter. 
 
 " Yes," replied Sorcha, with a blushing smile. 
 
 She had only been gone a few minutes when Olrud re- 
 turned from a service which had been held amongst the 
 fishermen on the beach. 
 
 He was followed by another figure, habited likewise in a 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 231 
 
 clerical mantle, but presenting as great a contrast to him as 
 could well be imagined. 
 
 It was that of a round little man, with ruddy hair and 
 bluish-grey eyes. His complexion had a tinge of pink in it, 
 and his whole person was suggestive of genial good nature. 
 His hands, which were soft and delicate, were constantly 
 employed in adjusting some part of his apparel. He 
 approached Amada. 
 
 "Dost thou recollect me?" he asked, with a peculiarly 
 smooth roll in his voice. 
 
 "Yea," she answered, gazing at him for a few minutes, 
 " I do — Bishop Heremon O'Mullaney." 
 
 " The same," he answered, shaking her hand warmly. 
 "It is long since we have met. I had heard indeed that 
 thou wert settled at Ardmore, but my duties have not led me 
 hither. And this is Grainne. She is much changed, much 
 improved, I should say, since I saw her under her father's 
 roof. Poor Eossa ! " 
 
 " I cannot return the eorapliment," said Grainne, with her 
 usual dignity. " Thou art the same as thy image in my 
 memory." 
 
 Bishop Heremon la.ughed in a soft, pleasant way. There 
 was merriment, but no twinkle in his small eyes. " They 
 tell me I wear well," he said, with complacency, sinking 
 down on the end of one of the couches, whose height scarcely 
 allowed of his little feet touching the ground. 
 
 " Thou hast had no heavy trials, I may hope," said Amada, 
 " else thou wouldst look a little less fresh." 
 
 " Yea, but I have," said Heremon. " I have been married, 
 and am now alone with nine children. Poor Monenna ! she 
 was indeed a treasure ! It was well for thee that I saw her," 
 he continued, glancing roguishly at Olrud. " I was on my 
 way to Bossa's when it happened — indeed I was." 
 
 " Perhaps," remarked Grainne^ with a slight smile, " I 
 may think that it was well for me too," 
 
232 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE. 
 
 " Thou art a wicked fairy," said Heremon, shrugging his 
 dapper little shoulders. "I. must confess that thou art 
 unchanged in some respects." 
 
 " Thou art one of the Ardmore family," said Olrud. " Why, 
 then-, wert thou not here on Declan's birthday ? " 
 
 " It was a long journey," replied Heremon ; " and I 
 thought it not wo*th my while. There are plenty of bishops 
 to be seen any day, without travelling forty miles. As for 
 hearing Fergus and Ardal, I expect to see them in my village 
 ere long ; and I can get more of any man's mind over a shell 
 of ale than by listening to him for hours." 
 
 " Thou must know, Bishop Heremon," said Sigurda, 
 " that Amada's grand-daughter is espoused to the princely 
 Ardal." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " exclaimed the stranger, with a burst 
 of geniality. " I congratulate thee," he said, turning to 
 Grainne\ 
 
 " Sorcha is not my child," replied the matron, quietly; 
 " she is my sister Moriath's." 
 
 " Alas ! " exclaimed Heremon, with a sentimental inflection 
 of the voice which was meant for condolence. Poor Moriath ! 
 I rejoice that she hath left a precious memento of herself.'' 
 
 "•Now," said Olrud, " that we may spend our time to profit, 
 let me read to you from one of the Gospels." 
 
 " I recollect," said Heremon, rising, " that I have arranged 
 to study for an hour with a brother bishop. I must see 
 thy grand-daughter another day. Farewell ! God bless you 
 aU ! " 
 
 Bowing to the company in a very consequential manner, 
 he strutted out of the cottage. 
 
 " Where hast thou picked up that specimen ? " asked 
 Grainne, after her husband had closed the door. 
 
 " I met him wandering about," replied Olrud. " He ac- 
 costed me, and seemed acquainted with my name. Then he 
 asked me to bring him to thy mother." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 233 
 
 " She is honoured by his thinking of her,'' said Grainne\ 
 " He came about us oftentimes when I was a child, and I 
 never eould behold him without laughing. I sometimes 
 feared he would notice it." 
 
 " How doth he preach ? " asked Olrud. 
 
 " I am hardly a fair judge," replied Gfrainne, " as I have 
 heard him but once. But I recollect that I liked him not. 
 He had an oiliness in his speech that made it sound unreal. 
 Wouldst thou trust him as a spiritual guide, mother ? " 
 
 " I would not listen to him for the world," replied Amada. 
 " It would be worse than starvation; it would be the pretence 
 of being fed. Nay, but I am not down to the husks yet." 
 
 The two lovers, meanwhile, had seated themselves on a 
 fallen tree. 
 
 "I wonder where Bishop Tostius is to-day?" remarked 
 Sorcha. 
 
 " Vexing his soul about us, perchance,"' said Ardal. " It 
 is painful to think of the masses he will say for our con- 
 version. With all his faults, he is thoroughly in earnest." 
 
 " Hast thou known many like him ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 Ardal rested his head for a moment on his hand, looking 
 very thoughtful. " I would fain tell thee,'' he said, " some 
 of the circumstances that have led me to a close acquaintance 
 with Bomish priests." 
 
 " They would naturally be objects of interest to thee,'' 
 replied Sorcha, " during thy wanderings." 
 
 "Too much so," replied Ardal, in a tone of deep melancholy. 
 " Yet is it surprising that when we come to live with people 
 whom we have been accustomed to consider as opponents, we 
 find them very like ourselves after all ? It is not so much a 
 difference of views, or of doctrines, that we have to fight 
 against, as it is a whole atmosphere of thought which we 
 have to change. Truly Satan hath been well named the 
 prince of the power of the air. Transplant one of our hardy 
 Dalecassian warriors to the vineyards of Sicily, and he will 
 
234 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 soon become as lazy and luxurious as any to the manner 
 born. There are things in my own experience that I much 
 regret, and some that seem to me now like a dream. But 
 thou wilt understand me better when I have told thee of 
 them." 
 
 Ardal spoke thickly, not without a tremor. Sorcha listened 
 breathlessly. She placed her hand within his, yet his eyes 
 were downcast as he continued — 
 
 " My stay in Paris did not impress me favourably with the 
 working of the Catholic system. I saw too clearly what a 
 distinct line of demarcation it was drawing between the 
 Church and the world. But I was in some doubt as to 
 whether I had attributed this effect to its true cause. For 
 my intercourse with the Cistercians of England had taught 
 me that there are simple earnest men within the Romish 
 fold. So I determined to study monasticism at its most 
 renowned centres. 
 
 " I spent but one night at Citeaux, for I was consumed by 
 a feverish desire to press forward into those solitudes where 
 it seemed as if nations had been born again by the preaching 
 of a simple monk. ' Can these dry bones live ? ' one might 
 well have asked, looking at the spiritual state of Gaul before 
 Bernard entered Citeaux. Yet within a year he had not only 
 covered Western Europe with his new foundations, but he had 
 stirred society to its centre. Kings, nobles, peasants, were cry- 
 ing out with one voice : ' What must we do to be saved ? ' 
 
 "No sooner did I make known my intention of visiting 
 Clairvaux, than the Abbot Gillebertus gave me a letter of 
 recommendation to its newly-appointed abbot, Poncius. 
 Thou mayest have heard of him. His highest praise is that 
 he hath caught some of the spirit of the noble Bernard. I felt 
 that under the roof of his monastery some of the chief ends, 
 of my mission might be attained. After several days' journey, 
 I reached the valley of Wormwood. It was nightfall. I had 
 ridden for miles along the banks of the Aube, and the moon- 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMORE. 235 
 
 light was streaming peacefully through the tender foliage of 
 the beech trees. The cloudless sky was aglow with stars, 
 and as the low walls of the convent rose before me, bathed in 
 a silvery splendour, I could not help imagining that the cloud 
 of the Divine Presence had rested on them as once on Sinai. 
 The first sight of them overawed me. For had they not been 
 the home of something mightier than even the warm heart 
 and great intellect of their founder, the whole of Europe 
 could never have throbbed as it did to the sound of the words 
 spoken there. A cross of flame flickered above the chapel 
 tower ; throwing a fitful light on the well-trodden turf before 
 the chief entrance. The clank of our horses' hoofs seemed 
 an intrusion as it resounded through the darkness. Our 
 guide, after ringing a bell, led us through a dark passage into a 
 courtyard flagged with stones ; from the further end of which 
 a flight of steps led up to the facade of a handsome church. 
 
 " ' Salve, frater, in Jesu Cristo,' said the white-robed monk 
 who laid hold of my bridle. 
 
 " ' Salve, frater carissime ! ' answered I, delivering to him 
 my commendatory letter. Seeing the superscription, he 
 placed it to his lips, and, crossing himself, beckoned to me 
 to follow. He led me through a smaller courtyard, surrounded 
 by an open arcade, the wall of which, pierced by numerous 
 cell windows, was adorned by bright pictures painted on 
 fresco. I had no time to examine them, for I soon found 
 myself in a high-roofed chamber, surrounded with benches 
 of carved oak fixed into the whitened walls. 
 
 " The monk laid down the light he was carrying. ' Wilt 
 thou wait a moment ? ' he said to me, in the common Frankish 
 tongue. He disappeared through another door, by which some 
 white-robed monks soon entered. 
 
 " There was an air of distinction about them which my 
 guide had lacked. The pale massive features and grey hairs 
 of the foremost made me guess before whom I stood. Making 
 a low reverence, I announced in Latin my name and errand. 
 
230 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 " ' Thou art welcome,' he replied, in the speech of Provence. 
 ' The countrymen of Marianus and of Columhanus are no 
 strangers to us. We have appointed thee a dormitory, heing 
 apprised of thy coming ; for we hope that thou wilt honour 
 us by a long visit.' 
 
 " He had most beautiful black eyes, the finest I think I have 
 ever seen. Thou must not smile, Sorcha, they were not un- 
 like thine own brown ones, only they had not such long fringes ; 
 and could change very swiftly from a lustrous meekness to 
 an eagle-like penetration. His head was bald, save for a close- 
 Cropped fringe of greyish hair at the back of the tonsure ; and 
 his whole countenance bespoke an intellectual force which 
 might have made me think of Socrates, were it not for the 
 traditional story that the sage of Athens was of grotesque 
 visage. Not so the abbot Poneius. He had an arm which 
 might have wielded the club of Hercules ; yet his cheek was 
 thin and sunken from the effect of long vigils. There was 
 self-denial and determination written in its pinched con- 
 tour. 
 
 " Tired as I was, I scarcely slept that night. The dormitory, 
 situate in the roof, had a window from which I could behold 
 the sunrise over the wide expanse of beech forest ; not weird 
 and mystic as our Irish ones often are, but clothed in a soft 
 loveliness that seemed to speak of heavenly peace. Ever and 
 anon would the chime of bells break in upon my musings. 
 These were to call the monks to prayer, and to the singing of 
 hymns in which the story of the Saviour's sufferings is most 
 touchingly set forth. There was something sublime in such 
 incessant devotion. The children of Bernard, as sentinels on 
 the high places of Christendom, are never permitted to slumber 
 at their posts. 
 
 " I stayed there three months. I need not describe to thee 
 all the life I led. It is enough to say that I formed spiritual 
 friendships. There was abundant opportunity for those who 
 feared the Lord to converse together. For though silence was 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 237 
 
 rigidly enforced in the refectory, the rule enjoying it was 
 waived between vespers and compline. Then we wandered in 
 couples through the cloisters. In the cool of the evening, 
 after the dews had fallen, I often discussed the things of the 
 Kingdom with Poncius, and with his deposed predecessor, 
 the learned Gavfridus. 
 
 " It was sweet to feel that they were one with me in Christ. 
 They thought that there might be some little value in our orders, 
 such as springs from the recognition of good men ; but they 
 regretted much that we could not be gathered into the 
 Catholic fold. Their faith in the authority of Peter was so 
 firm, so sincere, that it partly shook my incredulity. Perhaps 
 it was the attraction of the abbot's strong will, perhaps it was 
 real conviction ; but thou must know, Sorcha, that at times I 
 felt ready to submit utterly to the claims of Eome. 
 
 " Thou must not blame me," continued Ardal, sighing. 
 " Why, with the Scriptures in my hands, thou wilt say, 
 could I hesitate ? But God has other epistles, Sorcha, than 
 those written of old with pen and ink. The impress of His 
 finger is still to be seen on loving hearts. Such an one was 
 Poncius. He was visibly stamped with the seal of consecration ; 
 it was on his brow, and lent a dignity to every movement 
 of his sinewy hands. When such men die, methinks their 
 features will scarcely change in expression when touched by 
 the light of heaven. 
 
 " There might not be such a fallacy in Peter's claim, after alL 
 It had not been preferred by himself, for grace had at length 
 made him modest ; but his immediate followers were inspired 
 to see it with a clearer eye. At all events the claim was early 
 acknowledged. Poncius and Gavfridus did not repel me as 
 those do who say there cannot be salvation out of their Church. 
 ' No,' they argued, ' thou art Catholic already by virtue of 
 thy baptism into the Triune Name. The day will come when 
 thou, as well as all God's other children, will receive grace to 
 confess this publicly.' 
 
238 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 " Then they had the love of literature. Gavfridus, though 
 deposed on account of the dissensions which arose under his 
 rule, is the author of a most beautiful work on the Song of 
 Solomon, and is highly appreciated by the very men who 
 would not submit to him as abbot. I had fortified myself 
 with the thought that our system favoured the cultivation of 
 the intellect, whilst the Catholic one tended to stunt it ; but 
 I was informed that at Monte Cassino and at Clugny I should 
 find libraries second to none in Ireland. Transcriptions were 
 continually going on, even at Clairvaux; the Gospels in 
 Jerome's translation were being multiplied by hundreds, and 
 some of them were adorned with devices that are inferior in 
 beauty only to our own." 
 
 " But were there Frankish ones ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " I doubt it,'' replied Ardal. " Heathen writers, historians, 
 poets, were held in high esteem ; and I was myself permitted 
 to copy some whose works are not generally known. 
 
 "There is a longing for union amongst all visible things. 
 Living matter runs through the trees, percolating from root 
 to twig, and finding its highest expression in foliage and in 
 flower. But when the first frost of winter touches the leaves, 
 snapping the tie which binds them to the stem, whither do 
 these lovely children of the forest go ? Whither but to the 
 bosom of the kind mother earth, from which they originally 
 sprang, who has all along been nourishing them though they 
 knew it not ? They mingle again with her common clay, they 
 are part of herself. Not a brook that trickles through the 
 forest, not a dewdrop that hangs from yonder grass-blades, 
 but is working its way back to the waters of the mighty 
 world-embracing ocean. The very vapours that float in the 
 sky gather in ever-growing masses till they are ready to pour 
 their blessing on us. If it be so in the natural world, shall it 
 be otherwise with the trees of God's planting ; with the rills of 
 heavenly grace which trickle through human hearts to the 
 ocean of love around His throne ? They all seek to rest there ; 
 
THE BEIDES OF AKDMOEE. 239 
 
 but as they wend their way over the rough stones or through 
 the peaceful plains, is it so very wonderful that many of them 
 would like to flow together ? The solitary mountain streamlet 
 may he beautiful, but it is neither so glorious nor so bene- 
 ficent as the mighty river which bears the ships on its bosom. 
 And when two waters approach each other nearly, both bound 
 tothesamebourne,theirmutualattractionis almost irresistible. 
 
 "Day by day I felt this. It seemed like a sin, like a vexing 
 of the Eedeemer, this refusal to commemorate His death with 
 those who I felt sure were His children. The corruptions of 
 the Catholic Church became more faint as I looked at them; 
 the more faint, perhaps, because at Clairvaux they were not 
 obtruded on my view. Eepeated arguments with Gavfridus 
 made me think that our disputes are more about words than 
 about things. We also have accustomed ourselves to lan- 
 guage that is very misleading." 
 
 " I know not of what thou speakest," said Sorcha. 
 
 "For example," replied her lover, "after the prayer of 
 thanksgiving over the sacred bread, do we not say that the 
 officiating minister has made the body of Christ ? We mean 
 it in a spiritual sense, as Sedulius and Duns Scotus have 
 shown,* yet a stranger who heard it might marvel that we 
 did not forthwith bend our knees in adoration." 
 
 " Thou speakest truly," said Sorcha. 
 
 "From this carelessness of speech many errors have arisen," 
 continued Ardal. " I have met Irishmen who believed that 
 Cuthbert was really succoured by angels, when we all know 
 that the mistake arose from the custom of calling a helpful 
 man by a celestial title. We speak of the cross of Christ 
 saving us, although we believe that there is no healing effi- 
 cacy in anything but in the touch of the great Sufferer Him- 
 self. Most Eomish errors may be traced back to such 
 negligences of speech. And the power of men like Poncius 
 increases every day. They are the true salt of their com- 
 * Appendix; 
 
240 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 munion. I believe they will be the means in God's hand of 
 a great reform." 
 
 "But I wander from my tale. One day, walking through 
 the cloisters in the cool of the evening, when the western sky 
 was aflame with the glories of sunset, I could not help ex- 
 pressing my earnest longing to partake of the sacred cup with 
 those good men. There was a craving within me for Christian 
 fellowship. I had not known it since leaving England, for, 
 compared to that of others, Fergus's love had seemed cold." 
 
 " Did he share thy views ? "' asked Sorcha. 
 
 " I had left him at Clugny," replied Ardal. " I felt myself 
 very unworthy. I had done nothing towards the fulfilment 
 of my high resolves. I had been puffed up with vanity, and 
 had sought my own glory whilst I imagined that I was doing 
 Christ's work. I even doubted whether I had received a true 
 call. ' Perhaps the Catholics are right,' I thought ; 'perhaps 
 there is no valid ordination out of their Church.' 
 
 "'But how can the authorised dispensers of God's grace 
 teach so many false doctrines ? ' thou wilt ask. I had been 
 disarmed even of this weapon ; for I found in Poncius and 
 Gavfridus men who, like Bernard, were keenly alive to the 
 presence of errors and of corruptions. ' The Church only 
 bears with these for a time,' they said ; ' they are no part of 
 her real teaching. She has human clay to work with, and 
 thou art well aware that whatever man touches bears the 
 stain of his sins. If this is so in the natural world, if the 
 crystal raindrop become impure by its contact with earth, if 
 the sod which hath been pressed by a human foot be less 
 fresh than that around it, shall we expect spiritual gifts to 
 suffer no change by being housed in human hearts ? Thine 
 own Church hath erred in a thousand ways. The fire kindled 
 by Patrick and Bridget hath been suffered to burn low. You 
 have no longer the same missionary zeal ; for your right 
 arms are becoming palsied through your long separation from 
 the heart of Christendom. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 241 
 
 " ' The Church makes no claim to perfection. Her authority 
 is not bound up with the holiness of her rulers. She is but 
 an earthly temple, but she hath the sure promise that in her, 
 and in no other, the voice of God shall be heard — a voice 
 that may shelter her chief pillars, but which shall always 
 reach some ear sanctified for its reception. There are those 
 within her, even now, who cry aloud day and night for her 
 purification.' " 
 
 Ardal spoke with much emotion. " I cannot make thee 
 appreciate my feelings, Sorcha," he said. " It was as if a 
 family who had been my hereditary enemies had taken me 
 into their counsel. Canst thou forgive me, Sorcha, for 
 cherishing the wish to become one of them ? 
 
 " It was thus that Poncius explained the Church's toleration 
 of error. ' She hath employed,' he said, ' the wisdom of the 
 serpent in her dealings with those false religions which she 
 hath displaced. For even as the Milesian conquerors of thine 
 own island incorporated amongst themselves the remnants of 
 the vanquished Tuath-de-Danaans, so hath the Church em- 
 bodied in her practice, though not in her teaching, many 
 customs and ceremonies of heathenism.' 
 
 " ' But hath she not erred in so doing ? ' I asked. ' Hath 
 she not polluted the fountain of truth ? ' 
 
 " ' Nay,' replied Poncius ; ' these old faiths preserved in 
 men's minds an element of reverence which it were not well 
 to uproot with violence. Some of them had enshrined the 
 precious remains of a primitive revelation ; and God willeth 
 not to quench the smoking flax. Thine own Church hath done 
 the same ; she too hath approved superstition.' 
 
 " 'How so?' I asked. 
 
 " ' Doth she not tolerate the fires of Beltain ? ' replied 
 Poncius. ' And hath not the holy Bridget, with wise fore- 
 sight, appointed her own nuns to watch over the virgin- 
 guarded fire of the Druids at Kildare ? * Hast thou not thyself 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
 17 
 
242 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 told me how she fanned it into a national beacon symbolical 
 of the new light that had arisen on the world ? In this she 
 bowed to expediency, strengthening her empire over men's 
 minds by laying hold of what was already precious in their 
 sight. Yet these things, like the polygamy of the Hebrew 
 patriarchs, are but for a time. A few more turns of the sand- 
 glass and they will be swept from the temple.'" 
 
 " But how did he explain the sacrifice of the mass ? " asked 
 Sorcha. 
 
 " In truth,'' replied Ardal, "my thoughts dwelt not on what 
 I had been taught to loathe in it. The most repulsive object 
 will lose its ugliness when we handle it daily. Even the 
 snakes of other lands may become our familiar companions." 
 
 " Like the serpent sin," suggested Sorcha. 
 
 " Even so," replied Ardal " I know not how it was," he 
 continued. "I was very anxious about the validity of my 
 own ministrations. If there were any truth in the Pope's 
 claim, if he alone could give authority to dispense the sacra- 
 ments, why should I not seek to obtain it from his servants ? 
 
 " ' The Church is tender to weak consciences,' suggested 
 Poncius, when he found that I hesitated. ' She requireth 
 implicit obedience from all who range themselves in her army ; 
 yet are there times when the accomplishment of some great 
 design sanctions some modification of her rules. She hath 
 not Bcrupled to approve the sudden elevation of a layman to 
 the rank of Archbishop of Canterbury. Thy aim, as well as 
 hers, is the saving of immortal souls. If thou wouldst feel 
 better equipped for this great work by receiving her mandate, 
 I am ready to procure it for thee.' 
 
 " ' But I know not what price is to be paid for it,' I replied. 
 ' I must submit to the discipline of the Church of Patrick, 
 though that indeed hath been but loosely wielded. If I receive 
 from one of your bishops the authority of a priest, you must 
 ask me for no service that would tend to subvert the power 
 of my native communion.' 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 243 
 
 " ' It is for no political reason,' replied Poncius, ' that I 
 offer thee this. It is merely in order that with a free con- 
 science thou mayest again go forth to the conflict with evil. 
 The Church of Erin is hut a branch of the Catholic Church ; we 
 would fain effect her recognition, not her subversion. I have 
 already written to Avignon on the subject. Thou knowest 
 that I am in favour there, having been commissioned to carry 
 the pallium to the royal Henry, Archbishop of Eheims, the 
 brother of our King. As for the vows of celibacy, these are 
 more a matter of expediency than of strict legality. They 
 are even now waived in Sweden and Iceland. There is no 
 formula for them in the service of consecration. If thou wilt, 
 thou canst wear both tonsures.' 
 
 " The reply came from Eome. ' We have confidence in thy 
 judgment,' it said to Poncius. ' The young man of whom 
 thou speakest may be a chosen instrument for the bringing 
 back of the Isle of Saints. Thou mayest leave it to his 
 honour to make a fitting use of the gift which he will receive 
 from us. ' " 
 
 " And thou hast submitted to be re-ordained ! " exclaimed 
 Sorcha, with a look of melancholy surprise. 
 
 " I marvel not at thy amazement," replied Ardal, with a 
 forced smile. " The mistakes are endless which we may fall 
 into by looking more at ourselves than at the Saviour. 
 
 " I had not to pass through the minor orders. It was con- 
 sidered that I was already a deacon. The Bishop of Langres 
 did not consecrate me, although Clairvaux lies in his diocese. 
 Poncius preferred asking this service from the Archbishop of 
 Eheims, who had begun his rehgious life as a monk of the 
 monastery. ' It was meet,' he said, ' that the royalty of 
 France should consecrate the royalty of Erin to a more 
 humble submission to the Prince of Peace.' 
 
 "When Prince Henry's hand rested on my head, those of the 
 other priests being outstretched above it, a something seemed 
 to speak to me amidst the solemn silence — as if it were from 
 
244 THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 no human lips that I was for the second time receiving 
 authority to consecrate the mysterious elements of the Lord's 
 Supper. This of course sprang from the satisfaction of the 
 flesh. I now know that in taking up a human staff I was 
 forsaking my true guide. 
 
 " My eyes were not opened whilst I remained at Clairvaux ; 
 but at Clugny I met with more worldly ecclesiastics. Poncius 
 had promised that the fact of my reconsecration should not 
 be revealed unless I myself found it expedient to allow it. 
 During my stay in Provence I was much troubled in mind, 
 and at Rome I met with a Greek priest. 
 
 "He was there to look after several members of his flock who 
 had emigrated to the Eternal City. I was surprised to learn 
 that the adherents of his communion far exceeded in numbers 
 those of the Latin one. This fact deprives the latter of its 
 claim to universality. He laughed at the notion of Peter's 
 prerogative, and quoted the writings of Chrysostom in con- 
 futation of it. He also drew my attention to an explanation 
 of Jerome, whom the Eomans consider a great authority. 
 Jerome says : ' Our Lord declares, " On this Bock I will found 
 My Church," because Peter had said, " Thou art the Christ, the 
 Son of the Living God. On, this Rock, which thou hast con- 
 fessed," He declares, " I will build My Church;" for Christ was 
 the Rock on whose foundation Peter himself was built. For 
 other foundation can no man lay than that which is laid, 
 which is Christ Jesus.' 
 
 "Then it flashed on me that I had made a mistake. I 
 would give worlds to undo it ! " exclaimed the young bishop, 
 pressing his hand to his forehead, where the blue veins were 
 swollen with intense anxiety. "I had consented to wear a 
 chain which is an unworthy fetter on Christ's freemen. I 
 had sinned against the Holy Ghost by doubting the efficacy 
 of His call." 
 
 " But there is forgiveness with Him," said Sorcha, softly. 
 " Of course thou hast sought it ? " 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOBE. 245 
 
 Ardal heaved a deep sigh ; then, taking her fair hand affec- 
 tionately between his, he replied — 
 
 " Yea, but I have felt deeply humbled. In one only way 
 can I retrieve my error ; and that is by resisting the advance 
 of the oppressor with my whole soul. Sorcha, art thou will- 
 ing to aid me in the conflict ? " 
 
 A flash of humour was darted from the brown eyes. 
 " Am I not doing so," she answered, " in consenting to be 
 thy wife ? " 
 
 " I have taken no harsh vow," said her lover. 
 
 "Even hadst thou done so," said Sorcha, "it would have 
 been thy duty to break it. Thinkest thou that what thou hast 
 told me will have any effect on thy future career? " 
 
 " It would hurt me with my brethren were they to hear of 
 it," replied Ardal. " I will make a public confession should 
 it come to be bruited, explaining how deep my repentance has 
 been." 
 
 " Doth Fergus know it ? " said Sorcha. 
 
 " I feel sure that he doth not," replied Ardal. " He would 
 have made a jest of it ere this, if he had. And he would be 
 tempted to bring it forward now, if he thought it would be a 
 means of separating us." 
 
 "Then think no more of it," said Sorcha, rising and gently 
 kissing his troubled brow. " Let us go home and console my 
 grandmother for our absence." 
 
 "My sweet one ! " said Ardal, drawing her arm within his, 
 "I visited Clairvaux on my return from Provence, that I might 
 make known to Poncius the change in my views. And I have 
 got rid of a burden since I have found courage to confess this 
 to thee. It will never trouble me more." 
 
 "No," replied Sorcha, tripping lightly by his side. "Only 
 the recollection of it will make us more indulgent in our judg- 
 ment of others." 
 
 "It should make us see also," said Ardal, "how great is the 
 influence of Christian character. Poncius won me first by 
 
246 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 his consistent walk and by his genuine lovableness, before 
 he plied me with arguments." 
 
 "I wish Bishop Olrud could see that," said Sorcha. "But 
 we fail so often ourselves, that we have little right to judge 
 him. Yet methinks that, if I had heard no teaching but his, 
 I should have been quite ready to imbibe error, if it came 
 to me in a cloud of sweet fragrance." 
 
 "The failings of good men," observed Ardal, "have done 
 more harm to the cause of truth than has all the malice 
 of wicked ones.' 'What are these wounds in Thy hands?' 
 we ask of the Bedeemer. ' Those,' He answers, ' with which 
 I was wounded in the house of My friends.' " 
 
 On approaching the cottage they encountered Olrud, his 
 dark visage seeming longer than usual. Sorcha, on seeing 
 him, disengaged herself from Ardal, and passed swiftly into 
 the shelter of the doorway. 
 
 " I trust, brother," said Olrud, "that thou hast spent these 
 hours profitably." 
 
 " There is much to tempt the eye in God's universe," re- 
 plied Ardal. "But our hearts are like harps which, if well 
 tuned, may be so kept in the right key that all outward 
 things may be worked up by them into pleasing harmonies. 
 Distractions present themselves to us in the very pulpit, as 
 thou very well knowest." 
 
 "Not I," said Olrud; " I regard not the face of man when 
 there." 
 
 "I, on the contrary,'' observed Ardal, "could not speak 
 well did I not study the looks of my audience. Shall an 
 archer avert his gaze from the quarry when he shoots ? " 
 
 "It were well," said Olrud, "that in thy leisure hours 
 thou wouldst not remove thy thoughts so far from the quarry 
 as to blunt thine arrows." 
 
 " I am unconscious of doing so," replied Ardal. 
 
 "What conclusion," said Olrud, "will thy hearers of the 
 morning draw from thy conduct this afternoon ? Pardon me, 
 
THE BBIDES OP AJBDMORE. 247 
 
 I am a blunt man ; I must needs be faithful, though risking 
 the loss of thy friendship." 
 
 "My conscience is in this case satisfied,'.' replied Ardal. 
 "I have in no way transgressed against the spirit of the 
 commandment." 
 
 Olrud shook his head portentously as they passed together 
 into the cottage. 
 
 Amada gazed uneasily at her future grandson. She divined, 
 however, from his troubled look that her intended reproof had 
 been forestalled, and the instinctive reverence she bore to him 
 made her loth to humble him before a man whom she con- 
 sidered his inferior : she therefore said nothing. 
 
 But her silence threw a constraint over the supper-table. 
 Grainne alone seemed unaffected by it: she broached a 
 delicate subject. 
 
 " You two," she said, " have had full time to form your 
 plans. I should not be so presumptuous as to inquire about 
 them, were it not that I would fain know if it be worth while 
 for me to return home. Have you fixed the date of your 
 wedding ? " 
 
 Ardal's grave face broke into a sunny smile. Even Olrud's 
 muscles relaxed themselves as he glanced inquiringly at the 
 blushing Sorcba. 
 
 "In truth, we have not," replied Ardal. "But thou 
 doest us a service by forcing us to be precise. Methinks thy 
 mother's comfort should be first considered. The place of 
 our abode will be determined by that of my future ministry. 
 There are several vacant charges under the care of Ardmore, 
 and methinks the men of Youghal may be ready to choose 
 me as their bishop.'' 
 
 " Is Fergus not a rival candidate ?" asked Grainne. 
 
 " He might be," replied Ardal, "if he seeketh not a wider 
 field." 
 
 " Nay," said Grainne, " if the Ardmore fathers place him 
 ot at Waterford, a little flock would suit bim. They would 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE 
 
 be too humble to restrain his wanderings. He may make 
 himself more talked of as a bishop at Yougbal than at 
 Waterford." 
 
 " Thou thinkest that he will visit many sheepfolds in place 
 of tending his own flock," said Olrud. 
 
 " Yea," replied Grainne. " I grant that he is a star ; but 
 he is more like one of those which traverse the heavens with 
 a trail of light, than of those that twinkle in their set place. 
 His mind is a brilliant but not a fertile one. He would be 
 in danger of repeating himself had he always the same 
 audience.'' 
 
 Ardal darted a penetrating glance at the speaker. It was 
 strange to hear from her woman's lips an opinion that had 
 long floated indefinitely before his mental vision. 
 
 " Thou art perchance right," said Olrud. " I dispute it 
 not, for thou hast been so in other instances. But I trust, for 
 the good of the Church, that some law may be passed to keep 
 him at home. For I fear lest the wandering star make 
 people dance after it to their own destruction. Such orbs 
 have been ever harbingers of ill." 
 
 " But thou hast not said," observed Amada, " when there 
 is a prospect of thy settlement at Youghal." 
 
 "If all go well," replied Ardal, "it may be about the 
 beginning of the year. I have looked at the last bishop's 
 residence ; it is small, but we can add a chamber to it It 
 might be made fit for our occupation about the end of 
 spring." 
 
 '■Then I must go home," said Grainne. "You will give 
 me a few weeks' warning.'' 
 
 " Certainly," replied Ardal. " We could not well do 
 without thy help in arranging for thy mother's removal." 
 
CHAPTEK XXTV. 
 
 It was the month of May, a.d. 1169. The trees wore their 
 brightest green, and the white-thorns showered their blos- 
 soms over the primrose-studded banks. And on a memorable 
 evening, within Mael-Patrick's cottage, Grainne and Mor 
 held a white care-cloth over Sorcha's head to determine the 
 best way of adjusting it on the morrow. 
 
 Amada sat on the foot of a couch contemplating them with 
 grave serenity. She did not feel very well, for her health 
 was apt to be deranged by excitement. She had fidgetted 
 much before Grainne's arrival, for the cottage had become 
 the goal of so many visits that it was difficult for her to find 
 time for repose. 
 
 Mor had been attentive to Sorcha, though after a some- 
 what erratic fashion. Sorcha had indeed been occasionally 
 hurt when, after receiving a full meed of sisterly sympathy, 
 she found her friend colder than in former days towards her 
 aged grandmother. This was more marked when Grainne 
 came. Uailsi herself could not have looked more haughtily 
 indifferent to the accomplished wife of Bishop Olrud than did 
 this slender girl. 
 
 " We can never have real heart sympathy,'' thought 
 Sorcha, with a sigh. " I was foolish in fancying that I had 
 it. I might as well expect yonder pine tree to bend its 
 branches as a woman who thinks herself highly born to be 
 more than civil." 
 
 Grainne was not slow to notice this. She was too mag- 
 nanimous, however, to underrate Mor's real virtues. 
 
250 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 " The abbot's daughter will never be friendly to me," she 
 said, " but that is no reason why thou shouldst distrust her. 
 Thou wilt, perchance, derive pleasure from her companion- 
 ship in thy future life, and you may live to do each other good." 
 
 " I cannot welcome her in the same way," replied Sorcha, 
 " when I see that her love for me is not strong enough to 
 include my friends. I see not how so much littleness can 
 dwell with such an amount of intelligence." 
 
 " Her eyes will one day be opened to her folly,'' replied 
 Grainne. " We ought rather to pity the proud than to feel 
 angry with them. They are the greatest sufferers, for they 
 have real heart-loneliness." 
 
 "It is difficult for me," said Sorcha, " to feel any pity 
 for such pangs, the more so when I know them to be self- 
 inflicted. Yet methinks that M6r may perhaps suffer from 
 what thou speakest of. She often looks depressed. Some 
 times I have wandered with her by the shore, and have felt 
 as if she were wishing to tell me something, yet restraining 
 herself in a very melancholy way. When we first became 
 intimate, she rejoiced in my happiness, now it seems to 
 awaken no responsive chord in her soul." 
 
 " Leave her alone," said Grainn& " Thou wilt not miss 
 her, surely, when thou hast Ardal ? " 
 
 " She hath promised us an early visit," replied Sorcha. 
 "It is sad to see a creature moving by my side whom I 
 suspect to be harbouring some hidden grief. I have vainly 
 striven to divine what it is." 
 
 "For my part," said Grainne, "I think thee a happy 
 exception to thy fellow-mortals. Most women must give too 
 much thought to the bearing of their own burdens, without 
 spending time in guessing at what perhaps never existed. 
 Thou wilt learn what troubles thy friend soon enough, if it 
 be anything real." 
 
 There was some cause for M6r's unhappiness. Fergus had 
 for the last six months been placed over a congregation in. 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 251 
 
 Waterford city, where his talent and eloquence had made 
 him a match for his Danish rival. His visits to Ardmore 
 had been short though frequent. They were for the osten- 
 sible purpose of asking the abbot's advice on points of church 
 discipline, as well as to the part which he himself ought to 
 take in the dissensions betwixt the Irish and Danish authori- 
 ties. 
 
 " Fergus is more submissive than I had thought him,'' 
 remarked Uailsi. " He looks so wild and independent that 
 none would have dreamed of his seeking ecclesiastical sanc- 
 tion for his every act. Ardal seems much more disposed to 
 rely on his own judgment." 
 
 Little did the proud matron imagine that this submissive- 
 ness was but a pretext to cover deep-seated rebellion ! Had 
 she known of his secret meetings with her daughter, she 
 would have been less inclined to praise Fergus's loyalty. 
 
 " Meet me near Declan's well before sunrise," he had said 
 to M6r on the eve of Sorcha's wedding. " Thou shalt then 
 learn the plan I have formed for our future." 
 
 And Mor, whilst she held the care-cloth over Sorcha's 
 head, concealed in her breast an amount of agitation which 
 it was difficult to dissemble. "Would that these exquisite 
 embroideries had been for her ! She had as good a right 
 to wear them as the happy Sorcha. 
 
 The hour was approaching which would deliver her from 
 suspense. M6r dreaded it, yet she could not wish things to 
 go on as they had done. The task of concealment had been 
 too protracted, and too distasteful. Whatever was in store 
 for her, an open avowal was the event she dreaded least. 
 
 Her health had suffered during the winter. Her cheek 
 was thinner, her step less elastic than its wont. She was 
 more than once visited by a sudden trembling, of which she 
 could give no account. As she gently stroked her father's 
 forehead to soothe him after a day of close study, she felt 
 as if her fingers had no right to come in contact with him. 
 
252 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 They were guilty fingers ; they had been pressed by a lover 
 without his knowledge. She was pretending to belong to 
 her parents after she had vowed herself away. 
 
 Other girls might have done this without feeling com- 
 punction for it ; but M6r was so loyal, so fearless, that 
 she seemed as if forced into an attitude which did not suit 
 her. She was as a young pine, whose instinct is to shoot 
 straight, but which has been compelled by the hand of 
 ignorance to outrage itself by trying to twine like the ivy. 
 The cords with which she had been tied were too .strong to 
 allow of her rebound succeeding, but the effort injured her. 
 Her youthful vivacity was gone, and in its stead came a 
 feverish restlessness which tinged her cheek with the hues 
 of health when in Fergus's presence, but left her a prey to 
 exhaustion when he departed. Her parents had at length 
 resolved to try change of air for her. After Sorcha's marriage 
 should be over, Uailsi proposed to take her to the court of 
 King Eoderick. 
 
 " Cashel is out of the question," she said to her husband. 
 " The O'Briens and O'Carthys are too much in league with 
 the new prelates to welcome us. If thou hadst shown thyself 
 a little less uncompromising, it might have been better for 
 thee in a worldly sense." 
 
 " Ask what thou wilt of me," replied the abbot, " and I 
 shall be willing to gratify thee ; but the interests of Ardmore 
 and of the polity to which it adheres must come before all 
 personal considerations." 
 
 " Dublin is even worse," continued Uailsi. " Its king is a 
 poor fugitive, begging from foreigners what he cannot win 
 with his own sword. Methinks the princes of our day would 
 make but sorry figures on the page of a Tacitus." 
 
 " The flower of the land will gather round Eoderiok for 
 that very reason," replied the abbot. " Besides, is he not 
 ard-righ ? Thou must travel further, but thy advantage will 
 be all the greater." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOItE. 253 
 
 Uailsi therefore busied herself in the arrangement of her 
 wardrobe. Her old court dresses were dragged out of heavy 
 chests to be refurbished, and Mor's listlessness began to dis- 
 appear as she worked at them. Uailsi praised her own 
 acuteness in having discovered a remedy. 
 
 " Thou seest that hope rouses her," she remarked to her 
 husband. " The girl has blood in her veins which stagnates 
 in obscurity. She needs a wider sphere for her development. 
 We do not rear an eaglet to lock it up in a cavern." 
 
 But it was no prospect of court favour which quickened 
 M6r's fingers. Destiny seemed to beckon her as she plied 
 the needle. Was not Sorcha doing the same ? Providence 
 had willed that all should be in readiness for her own 
 bridal. 
 
 She scarcely closed her eyes on the eventful night. She 
 remained talking with Sorcha till a late hour, whilst wreath- 
 ing festoons of flowers for the decoration of the church She 
 had remarked how beautiful her friend appeared in the midst 
 of her excitement, but there was no tremor in Sorcha's 
 hand, no paleness on Sorcha's ' cheek ; she was looking 
 forward with confidence to the hour which wonld place her 
 happiness in another's keeping. Her dark eyes were turned 
 on Mor with the sparkling assurance of a deep-seated peace. 
 
 " Thou hast no need to rouse me early," she said to 
 Grainne. "I am quite sure to oversleep myself, and shall 
 be all the better for so doing." 
 
 " But Ardal may visit us early," suggested her aunt. 
 
 " It matters not,'' said Sorcha. " We have a lifetime to 
 spend together, and I have nothing to say to him that 
 cannot wait." 
 
 The first faint sunbeam had scarcely tinged the eastern 
 sky when a dark figure glided up the smooth turf of the rath 
 by the steps close to the abbot's dwelling. The chill wind 
 fanned its cheek, and blew its garments closer around it. It 
 hurried rapidly downwards over the encircling ditch and 
 
254 THE BEIDES OF ARDMOEE. 
 
 past the farmyard, where a large watch-dog shook him- 
 self and opened his mouth for a bark. 
 
 The figure stood still, and displaying a small white taper- 
 ing hand from beneath the folds of its mantle, threw out a 
 morsel of wheaten cake. The dog's voice subsided into a 
 low whine, whilst the figure glided onwards towards the 
 summit of the hill. 
 
 M6r — for it was she — walked leisurely as soon as the 
 elevation of the ground she had traversed hid from her view 
 the summit of the Bound Tower. 
 
 " Shall I go on ? " she thought. " What I do'this morning 
 I never can recall. The way round by the shore is so wild 
 and lonely. The very cliffs are dank with dew. Our flutter- 
 ing hearts were never given us for such service. What if 
 he should ask me to fly with him ? " 
 
 Then she thought of Sorcha. Was she, too, not venturing 
 into the unknown ? Yet no shadow of fear had crossed her 
 mind. Was the daughter of the Cinal Conaill but a poor 
 coward ? Should she not now return to seek her pillow ? 
 She would be safe there ; she would be under her parents' 
 wing. Why, then, had she thought of love ? Did Fergus not 
 deserve to be trusted as much as Ardal ? 
 
 She walked on more quickly. She dared not look behind, 
 for the green roofs of Ardmore might call out that she was 
 bidding them farewell. Mor, pausing a second time, prayed 
 that she might retain her self-possession. 
 
 At length she paused beneath the cliff which overlooked 
 the gushing fountain. She sat down on a large rock, against 
 which the bright sea-waves were rippling. 
 
 There was no sign of living thing along the shore. M6r 
 looked at the sombre sky, the vast stretch of grey water 
 ruffled by an easterly breeze, at the fringe of pine trees on 
 the near promontory, looming like so many ghosts in the 
 darkness, and at the cold rocks against which she leaned. 
 She began to fear that she was forsaken. The wind blew 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMORE. 255 
 
 ominously on her slender frame, and, sinking down, she 
 offered a humble prayer for help. It seemed as if she heard 
 a low whisper. 
 
 " It waxeth day," said an unfamiliar voice. 
 
 " Had we not better return ? " 
 
 "Hast thou left a couch of flowers," replied another, 
 "whose scent lureth thee back? Thy rest will be the 
 sweeter to thee for having been once broken." 
 
 The second voice thrilled through M6r. Its deep tones 
 were those of Fergus. 
 
 She raised her head timidly above a projecting rock, and 
 discerned two figures with their backs turned to her. 
 
 "I know not that," said one of them. " Methinks, like 
 the patriarchs, I could make a pillow of this stone." 
 
 " Thou wouldst look in vain for the angels," replied 
 Fergus. 
 
 M6r hesitated no longer, but gliding forward, came close 
 to the well. 
 
 Her footfall was noiseless, yet Fergus felt it. He turned 
 round. 
 
 " My sweet one ! " he exclaimed, extending his arms. 
 M&r's head was in an instant pillowed on his shoulder. She 
 trembled with fear and cold. 
 
 The stranger gave a few short coughs. "When M6r lifted 
 her face, she recognised the plump figure of Heremon 
 O'Mullaney. He stepped forward with much frankness. 
 
 "Thou art a brave girl," he said, "to come out in the 
 darkness. But we must lose no time. Shall I begin ? " he 
 asked, turning his small eyes on Fergus. 
 
 Mdr's blue orbs were opened wide in perplexity. Fergus 
 took her hand and spoke in a caressing voice — 
 
 " The time has come, my love, when we must act promptly. 
 Our friend here has consented to say the words which will 
 make us husband and wife." 
 
 Mor drew slightly back, without, however, removing her 
 
256 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 hand. "And then?" she asked, fixing her clear eyes 
 steadily on him. 
 
 "Then," said Fergus, "thou wilt join me at Waterford. 
 Delay not, I beseech thee." 
 
 His brow was flushed, his hand feverish. 
 
 " I like not this concealment," said M6r. 
 
 Heremon, placing his hands behind his back, moved away 
 a few paces. 
 
 " It may not be what is due to thee," said Fergus, " but it 
 is not a crowd of witnesses that makes a marriage. It is 
 God's footstool on which we kneel ; His presence is in 
 yonder blue sky even more than beneath the church roof. 
 And this is the only way in which we can ever hope to 
 wed." 
 
 Mor drew herself up to her full height as she calmly 
 weighed the value of his words. 
 
 " I yield," she said, "but on one condition." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Fergus, anxiously. 
 
 " That thou expect not blind obedience till after I shall 
 have left my parents' roof," replied M6r ; " and that I be 
 permitted to stay there till such time as thou shalt make our 
 union public." 
 
 There was a ring in her voice which warned Fergus not to 
 overstretch his power over her. 
 
 " I agree," he said, pressing her hand more warmly than 
 ever. " Bishop Heremon ! " 
 
 His friend strode leisurely back. " Have ye settled it ? " 
 he asked, with a roguish look in his eye. 
 
 " Yea," replied Fergus, " we are both ready." 
 
 They knelt on the damp grass while Bishop Heremon 
 offered an intercessory prayer. There was something peculiar 
 in his voice. It was manly enough, but yet it seemed fitted 
 to express thoughts that lay no deeper than the surface of 
 his nature. M6r felt as if she were listening to the panto- 
 mime of a marriage service, and found it difficult to realise 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 257 
 
 that she was going through the momentous reality. There 
 was something flippant in the way that he presented the 
 vows. 
 
 When they rose from their knees, it seemed to Mor as if 
 the knot were but loosely tied. Fergus covered her cheek 
 with kisses. Seizing her hand, Heremon tried to snatch a 
 kiss also. 
 
 " Thou must reward my pains," he cried. " I have en- 
 countered the cold of this morning." 
 
 " Thou hast obliged Fergus," replied M6r, with dignity, 
 " If thou seekest a reward, I trust thou wilt find it in the 
 consciousness of having done him a favour." 
 
 " I have begun the day well," he said, gaily. " Let us 
 walk back now, else the sun will be out to chide us." 
 
 They crossed the top of the hill, and dived by a devious 
 way into the forest. M6r hung on her husband's arm. She 
 was silent, whilst the two men indulged in mutual jesting. 
 She knew little of Heremon, but she did not esteem him. 
 He seemed to be like some shallow brooklet, which has 
 spread its waters over as huge a space as possible, but how 
 shallow he was she had never suspected till that morning. 
 
 " Why had Fergus committed the blending of their destinies 
 into such careless hands?" she could not help thinking. 
 " Was there none other amongst his brother bishops from 
 whom he could have begged such a service ? If his reasons 
 for secrecy were good ones, surely some more hallowed hands 
 might have been found for the purpose. Heremon and he 
 could not be intimate friends, she was sure. They were 
 alike in nothing. FerguB, though so oareless looking, was 
 never flippant, whilst Heremon seemed to have no qualifica- 
 tion for what he had done that morning, except his official 
 position." Mor felt less at ease than ever. 
 
 " Stay a moment," she said to Fergus, after Heremon had 
 bade them farewell. They were under a convenient screen 
 of trees. 
 
 18 
 
258 THE BBIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 " I would fain have thee tell me," she said, " how I am to 
 act to-day ? " 
 
 "As thou wouldst have done," replied Fergus, slowly, 
 " had nothing unusual taken place." 
 
 " But it will be a deception," urged M6r. " I shall have to 
 appear as chief bridesmaiden, whilst I am a married woman." 
 
 " It will only be for a few hours," replied Fergus. " I 
 promise thee solemnly, Mor, that I will make the announce- 
 ment before the company separate." 
 
 " If thou wilt do that," said Mor, " I am content. But let 
 me not play the hypocrite too long ; thou knowest that I 
 cannot bear it." 
 
 " Thou art brave as Minerva," replied Fergus, kissing her. 
 " I am very grateful for thy patience ; it shows the strength 
 of thy love." 
 
 " As soon as may be," said M6r, " I would have thee ask 
 some one to offer a real earnest prayer for our happiness. I 
 feel as if Bishop Heremon thought it was all a jest '" 
 
 "No doubt he doth," replied Fergus, smiling. "He is 
 not so bad, though, he is very good-natured." 
 
 " Not grave enough for a bishop," said Mor. "He looks 
 as if he had come into the world only to enjoy it." 
 
 " Thou wouldst do well to enjoy it a little more thyself," 
 said Fergus. " But it will be all right to-morrow; thou hast 
 no need to grieve." 
 
 He kissed her again, and they separated. Mor hurried 
 homewards, for she had much to do. Near the farmyard 
 she met Ardal. 
 
 " Thou art early astir," he exclaimed. 
 
 Mor was too much confused to answer him. She knew 
 not how to regain her usual coolness. Ardal, happily, was 
 in no mood for close observation. 
 
 " It is a sign of good luck for thee," he observed, " that 
 thou hast met me. Thou wilt be married before the year is 
 out." 
 
THE BRIDES OP AHDMOEE. 259 
 
 " I wish thee happiness," replied M6r, bowing gracefully, 
 and hurrying towards the rude ladder which led up to the 
 Grianan. 
 
 None of those who saw her cross the rath wondered. They 
 knew the abbot's daughter to be an early riser, and had any 
 one thought it worth while to venture a guess about her 
 movements, it would probably have been that she had gone 
 to seek wild-flowers for her dress. They were, however, too 
 eager to finish their own business to bestow much solicitude 
 on hers. 
 
CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 Seldom had Ardmore presented a more cheerful appearance 
 than on that bright May morning. The eastern breeze soon 
 swept away the clouds that had darkened its dawn, and the 
 first peal from the Bound Tower awoke into unwonted activity 
 the dwellers in the picturesque huts around it. Tall poles 
 had been planted in a double row betwixt the door of Mael- 
 Patrick's cottage and that of the church. These were now 
 festooned by busy fingers with floral ropes of the creamy 
 white-thorn blossom, whilst the path betwixt them was laid 
 with rushes and sprinkled over with many a handful of wild- 
 flowers. It was an universal holiday. The scholars gladly 
 put aside their lesson tablets after early prayers, and the 
 dairymaids hastened to drive their cows out to pasture that 
 they might be in time to witness the bride's passage. 
 
 At another signal from the bell, a group of white-robed 
 maidens assembled on the greensward, bearing in their hands 
 bouquets of wheat-ears and brilliant blossoms, and on their 
 bosoms sprigs of rosemary. M6r was one of the last to join 
 them. 
 
 She looked queenly in her rich array. Her hair, parted 
 and turned back after the Saxon fashion, was coiled into a 
 coronet and looped together with snowdrops. Her inar of 
 fine white wool was embroidered with green, and her waist 
 was encircled by a zone of twisted gold. Her feet, like those 
 of her companions, were encased in white sandals. 
 
THE BRIDES OP ABDMOBE. 261 
 
 But M6r looked pale in spite of her stateliness. She gave 
 but a cold welcome to the two youthful princes, sons of King 
 Domnall O'Brien, who had come from Lismore to officiate as 
 pages at the wedding of their kinsman. 
 
 It was her duty to knock at the bride's door. The other 
 maidens became impatient. 
 
 " Sorcha waiteth for thee," said one ; " I have seen 
 Grainne's face at the window." 
 
 M6r advanced, but knocked so gently as to be inaudible. 
 Her hand trembled. 
 
 " Knock louder,'' said Prince Murtough. 
 
 M6r tried to do so, but without effect. 
 
 The boy hesitated no longer. Stepping before her, he 
 struck the door with his silver-mounted sword-handle. It 
 opened, and Grainne appeared, leading Sorcha. 
 
 There was a buzz of admiration through the assembled 
 throng. The bride was radiant in loveliness, her loosened 
 hair flowing over her shoulders, the glow of her flushed 
 cheeks and brown eyes being heightened by the glitter of 
 white robes interweaved with threads of gold. Grainne 
 looked beautiful also, as a full-blown summer rose over- 
 shadowing a delicately tinted bud. 
 
 The sun shone that morning on no fairer sight than the 
 procession of sweet young faces that followed these two in 
 their passage betwixt the wreathed poles. They were pre- 
 ceded by the young princes, clad in trews and plaids of 
 scarlet tartan, one of them bearing in his hand a buffalo-horn 
 cup filled with rosemary. But one amongst the maidens was 
 pale, one voice joined but faintly in the psalm of thanks^ 
 giving that rose from their lips ; and as the abbot came forth 
 to meet them his eye rested uneasily on the form of her who 
 followed nearest to the bride. Grainne was musing about 
 that form with far different feelings. 
 
 " She is more haughty than ever," thought the matron. 
 " It must be the excess of Sorcha's good-nature that finds 
 
262 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 aught to admire in her. Or perhaps pride is like a fungus 
 in the heart, which has been there nourished til] it has eaten 
 all the sap out of a very sweet flower." 
 
 " Mor is going to court soon," thought some of her com- 
 panions; "but she might have waited till she got there 
 before assuming such airs. She perchance thinks to make 
 herself greater in the eyes of these boy princes and of the 
 O'Paolain." 
 
 Mor walked on, unconscious of the attention she was 
 exciting. Her feet scarcely seemed to touch the ground; 
 there was a tightness at her heart which threatened to 
 stop her breath. She almost felt like a ghost that had 
 come to revisit scenes which would have been fairer without 
 her. 
 
 A burst of music heralded the bride's approach to the 
 church. It came from a group of harpers, and from the 
 mouth of a very long trumpet which, fashioned with curious 
 skill, required the services of two men to keep it in position. 
 Joy was depicted on every face, save on those of Mor and her 
 mother. 
 
 Ardal waited beside the O'Faolain and a group of his noble 
 kinsmen. As M6r approached he advanced towards her, 
 holding out a purse of netted silk. 
 
 A merry laugh now arose amongst the younger brides- 
 maidens. Darting forward, two of them seized his arm, 
 endeavouring to draw him into the church. At the same 
 time several young men approached Sorcha, taking her with 
 gentle violence from the protecting clasp of Grainne. They 
 led her into the church, followed by peals of laughter from 
 the girls who were vainly endeavouring to do the same to 
 Ardal. 
 
 But the bridegroom at length yielding, suffered himself to 
 be led under the narrow doorway ; then over a carpet of 
 fresh rosemary into the inner chapel, where all soon ranged 
 themselves around the linen-draped communion table. 
 
THE BEIDES OF ABDMOBE. 263 
 
 After a prayer and an exhortation, the solemn words were 
 pronounced which bound two lives irrevocably together. 
 Uttered as they were by Ere O'Conaill with deep pathos, they 
 had the effect of making his daughter feel more than ever as 
 if her own marriage had been but a mock one. Was it a 
 nightmare through which she had passed ? No, for glancing 
 timidly round the church, her eye met the amused stare of 
 Heremon. Mor felt a strange loathing at him, and even the 
 face of Amada, though sparkling with unwonted joy, seemed 
 to her as if enveloped in a strange mist. 
 
 When the last prayer had been uttered, the musicians 
 were about to strike the first notes of the concluding hymn ; 
 but Fergus, darting forward, seized M6r's hand. 
 
 She was too much startled to resist. He led her in front of 
 the throng, saying in a loud, commanding voice : 
 
 " Abbot Ere O'Conaill, I announce to thee that this morn- 
 ing thy daughter M6r and I have been united in the bonds of 
 holy matrimony. I ask thy benediction." 
 
 The abbot looked bewildered. His tongue at first refused 
 utterance. The glances of all instinctively travelled from him 
 towards Uailsi, who stood pale and motionless on the right 
 of the bridesmaidens, looking more like an image of wax 
 than like a breathing woman. Her head retained its haughty 
 poise, but her eyes were fixed and glassy — all light seemed 
 to have died out of them. There was something terrible in 
 her self-command. 
 
 The abbot opened his mouth as if to speak ; but his atten- 
 tion was suddenly diverted by the address of a stranger. 
 
 Whilst the ceremony was going on, two dusty figures had 
 slipped into the church. They were those of a handsome boy, 
 in neat but travel-spotted garments ; and of a grim warrior, 
 whose shaggy beard and tunic of tanned cow- skin proclaimed 
 him to be unacquainted with the refinements of life. The boy 
 first stepped forward. He whispered something into the 
 abbot's ear. 
 
264 THE BKIDES OF AP.DMOEE. 
 
 "What doest thou here?" asked the OTaolain of the 
 warrior. 
 
 " Thy sword will leap from its scabbard when I tell thee," 
 replied the mas. " Come out with me, lest thou affront the 
 majesty of this place with its gleaming." 
 
 The abbot had become deadly pale. Grainne started ; the 
 travel- stained youth was her eldest boy Eossa. 
 
 The abbot, taking him aside, continued to speak rapidly. 
 The O'Faolain meanwhile had left the church, but few except 
 Grainne had noticed this ; all being engaged in showering 
 congratulations on Ardal and Sorcha. 
 
 The abbot at length stepped in front of the communion 
 table. He grasped young Eossa's arm for support. It was a 
 striking spectacle, if any one had been sufficiently calm to ob- 
 serve it — the massive form of the aged man, with the broad 
 intellectual brow worn and wrinkled with study ; and the 
 bright angelic one of the vivacious youth who supported him. 
 The boy's touch seemed to give the abbot strength, for, 
 glancing at his pale wife, he nerved himself to speak. 
 
 All was hushed in an instant, the crowd of upturned faces 
 hanging breathlessly on his lips. 
 
 " My children," he began, in a low but distinct voice, "I 
 must put aside all personal matters to announce to you - a 
 national calamity. We are again threatened with invasion ; 
 nay, the foe has landed near the villaga of Bannow." 
 
 "The black strangers!" exclaimed Olrud, who looked 
 very dark at the prospect of becoming acquainted with his 
 kinsmen. 
 
 Amada now grasped the bride's arm. " Tell me," she said, 
 tremblingly, " what is it ? " 
 
 "Invasion," replied Ardal, speaking loudly in her ear. 
 
 " No, my children," said the abbot ; " it is not the Danes 
 we shall have to fight with. It is a oompany of freebooters, 
 who may be the forerunners of many others. They are com- 
 manded by an Anglo-Norman knight named Fitz- Stephen. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 265 
 
 Though numbering only four hundred, they are the flower of 
 English chivalry. "We have reason to tremble lest their 
 coming has been sanctioned by King Henry. " 
 
 " My counsel is," said Ardal, " that we be not soon shaken 
 in mind. The men of Waterford will soon give a good 
 account of them. The danger lies in their having followers, 
 and that is not yet apparent. Let our Erenach lay up a store 
 of corn in the Eound Tower, against whatever peril may 
 threaten us next year. Let some of our number be appointed 
 to travel to all the chieftains of Munster, and obtain their pro- 
 mise to respect our rights of sanctuary; counselling them, at the 
 same time, to sink their feuds in a league of national defence." 
 
 " We may take thee at thy word," said Fergus. " I would 
 pray our revered abbot to send thee." 
 
 He had possession of Mor's arm whilst he spoke. She was 
 weeping, but she could not help wondering at his cool as- 
 surance. He was actually speaking in the tone of a man who 
 had nought to crave pardon for. 
 
 Mor felt a light touch on her head. Grainne's soft fingers 
 were untying the coils of her hair. She darted a glance of 
 grateful meaning from beneath her wet eyelashes. The 
 matron's kind act made her feel that she had not forfeited all 
 claim to honour. 
 
 " Let it be, then," said the abbot, replying to Fergus's pro- 
 posal. He was too much stunned by the double blow he had 
 received to be quite master of himself. Leaving the com- 
 munion table, he passed out by a side door. 
 
 But many sorrowed at the sight of his bowed head. As 
 he left the church a round soft hand was laid gently on his. 
 
 "Be of good comfort, brother," said the mild voice of 
 Maidoc. " Thy daughter will give a good account of her- 
 self." 
 
 The abbot looked in his face. There was so touching a 
 expression of sympathy in it, that he could only press the 
 kind hand warmly in reply. 
 
266 THE BRIDES OP AEDMORB. 
 
 Uailsi's power of endurance at length failed. She had 
 bestowed no glance on her husband as he passed, but now, 
 heaving a deep sigh, she sank helplessly on the floor. 
 
 Many hands were outstretched to raise her. Mor was too 
 timid to approach. 
 
 " Let me not see the undutiful girl," she murmured. 
 
 " She is thy daughter," whispered Sorcha, " and the eyes 
 of many are upon thee." 
 
 Uailsi controlled herself, and, bowing haughtily to the as- 
 sembled throng, went out of the church. 
 
 Ardal led his bride over the flower-strewn pavement. All 
 were too much excited to perform the ceremonies which had 
 been arranged for her exit. Ita, however, had in the mean- 
 time stationed herself at the door, and as the newly- wedded 
 couple passed out, she urged two young men to pour on their 
 heads a copious shower of wheat ears. 
 
 The O'Faolain had meanwhile retired into Declan's cell 
 with some of the ruling bishops. Grrainne beckoned to her 
 son. 
 
 " I cannot approach thee," he said, with a roguish 
 twinkle in his eye. " I should spoil thy broidered lena." 
 
 He suffered himself, however, to be led out by his father. 
 Seated beneath the great yew tree, he was made to repeat 
 fifty times the story that he had told to the abbot. 
 
 The news had been brought to Lismore by a special 
 messenger on the preceding evening. Eossa had undertaken 
 to be the bearer of it to Ardmore before the Abbot Christian 
 had time to indite a letter. 
 
 "I met the O'Faolain's henchman on the bridge," he said. 
 " He hath come from Waterford, and hath seen the foe with 
 his own eyes. They are not like the Black Strangers ; their 
 archers are men of skill whom none have yet been able to 
 withstand ; for the grey goose wings of Sherwood are now 
 in the quiver of the Norman tyrant. Men say that this troop 
 of Pitz-Stephen's is but the van of an expedition which hath 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 267 
 
 been in preparation for years ; and that the real head of it is 
 the renowned Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke." 
 
 " Then the English king must be privy to it," said Olrud, 
 darkly. 
 
 " I fear," said Ardal, who had left his bride for a few 
 minutes beside her grandmother — " I greatly fear that he in- 
 tends to subdue us. It will be but a light thing for him com- 
 pared to what his great-grandsire's landing at Senlae was. 
 The English will never respect our sanctuaries ; for they are 
 leagued with the men who contemn our orders." 
 
 "How so ? " asked Maidoc. 
 
 " Perhaps thou wilt now be convinced," replied Ardal, 
 " that there was something in what I told thee. Our coun- 
 try has been presented as a gift by the Pope to King Henry." 
 
 There was a murmur of horror throughout the assembled 
 throng ; even Maidoc turned pale. 
 
 "I could not have believed it," he said. "The heart of 
 man imagineth only evil. But how comes the Eoman bishop 
 to claim power over us ? " 
 
 " He hath received all islands as a gift to his predecessors 
 from the Emperor Constantine," replied Ardal. 
 
 "That cannot be!" shouted the hereditary Erenach of 
 Ardmore, a bluff red-bearded man in a tartan-fringed mantle. 
 " Erin belonged to the Cassars in no wise. The Eoman bishop 
 needs, metbinks, as Columbanus said, to bte instructed by his 
 juniors. I might as well pretend to give thee the Eock of 
 Cashel." 
 
 " Doth King Henry deserve the gift ? " asked young Eossa. 
 
 " I trow not," replied Ardal. " Men say that he hath been 
 known to jest in presence of the consecrated Host ; and he 
 hath sought to lord it over his Primate." 
 
 "But the Pope hath been his friend in that quarrel," re- 
 marked Fergus. " It is but a year since he issued against 
 the archbishop a decree of suspension. Did the monks of 
 Citeaux not tell thee how they had been forbidden to harbour 
 
268 THE BRIDES OP ABDMOEE. 
 
 A'Becket, under penalty of losing their property in four 
 kingdoms ? " 
 
 " That may be," said Ardal. " I would have you know, 
 brethren, that I have not warned you without cause. The 
 parchment exists on which the gift is declared." 
 
 " No, no ! " cried a score of voices. 
 
 "And how hath Erin sinned, that she hath cohie to be 
 made a chattel of? " asked the smith, who had been no inat- 
 tentive listener. 
 
 "The Bull itself tells," replied ArdaL "We have been 
 unwilling to obey their foreign laws, and to give the pence 
 due to the fisherman's successor. We have amongst us, also, 
 nurseries of vice which must be extirpated." 
 
 " Is the king, then, a Nathanael," asked the Erenach, " to 
 whom this commission hath been given? " 
 
 " No more so than is his queen, the Amazon-Crusader,"* 
 replied Ardal. "Men say that her wrists have borne chains, 
 although she has brought him the fairer half of Gaul. Her 
 mind hath been sorely chafed because of the love that he 
 showeth to the sons of Bosamond." 
 
 " Then are we doubly insulted," remarked Olrud. 
 
 " I have heard better accounts of him," saidFergus. " Men 
 say he is high-minded, and hath a fair tongue ; also that to 
 the courage of his great-grandsire he adds much warmth of 
 heart." 
 
 " I grant him some kingly virtues," replied Ardal. " He 
 may be a noble friend, and a dangerous enemy. He is sudden 
 in anger, and pitiless as the bolt of the cloud. God grant 
 that he be not launched at us." 
 
 " What wouldst thou have us do, then ? " asked the 
 Erenach. 
 
 " We have the weapon of prayer," replied Ardal. " Let us 
 humble ourselves in God's sight, and it may be that He will 
 yet avert His anger." 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 269 
 
 " Thou speakest of the Almighty's justice," said Olrud ; 
 " but doth not England deserve punishment yet more at His 
 hands ? Where, even in the pages of heathen authors, can 
 we read of more horrible doings than those of the Norman 
 barons during the last reign ? " 
 
 " True," replied Ardal. " Had it not been for Theobald of 
 Canterbury, men say that life in England would have been as 
 life in hell. These are the very men, too, who yearn to quench 
 their thirst for blood on us. We, however, have nought to do 
 with others. Our Church has fallen from the heights of her 
 simplicity; she will be trampled under foot of men if she 
 find not space for repentance." 
 
 As Ardal uttered these words, a weird mis-shapen form 
 darted from behind the corner of the church. Phelim O'Bric 
 stood amongst the crowd brandishing in his hand a withered 
 oak-branch, its twigs and leaves half burnt away. 
 
 " See ye what the sparks have done?" he cried, wagging 
 his grizzly beard. "The little firebrand hath been thrown 
 over the dry forest, and as the tiny sparkles enkindle the 
 small wood, so shall the same set the great wood on fire. 
 The red glow appeareth where the river windeth to the sea : it 
 will break into a flame which turneth nations into ashes. 
 Blasts of death go before it, and whither will ye hide from its 
 scorching breath ? " 
 
 All shrunk back as Phelim passed amongst them, none 
 venturing to speak until his voice had become faint in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Thinkest thou that he knoweth the issue ? " asked the 
 Erenach of Ardal. 
 
 "I cannot tell," replied the young bishop; "but let not 
 his words frighten us. Men say that he hath held converse 
 with the powers of darkness, and the secret of the Lord is 
 not with such as he." 
 
CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 M6b had, in the meantime, withdrawn to hide her tears m 
 Maidoo's cottage. She wept there for an hour before being 
 discovered by its occupants, who had been too much engrossed 
 by the recitals of Rossa and Ardal to return home. 
 
 " I would not have'done it," she sobbed, her head pillowed 
 on Ita's shoulder, " if I had only had a few hours to think 
 about it. I never dreamed of his affronting my parents by 
 such a public announcement. I would have sought my father 
 and confessed to him, if I had had the slightest warning of 
 what was going to happen." 
 
 " Then thou wouldst never have seen Bishop Fergus again," 
 remarked Ita, quietly. " Thy father would have taken pains 
 to hush it up, for he would have considered the marriage in- 
 valid. Fergus would never have shown his face in Ardmore 
 again.'' 
 
 " Thinkest thou that they will disown me ? " asked M6r. " It 
 was not because I loved them not, and I am their only child. 
 Would that I could see my father for ten minutes ! " 
 
 " I think not that he will be unapproachable," said Maidoc, 
 gently ; " yet I doubt the propriety of thy accosting him 
 while the wound is sore." 
 
 Maidoc rose, and stepped heavily out of the cottage. 
 
 The good bishop was scarcely to be recognised as the same 
 man that he had been in the morning. His figure seemed to 
 have grown unwieldy, and the brightness of his face was 
 dimmed by a murky cloud of care — his very skin seemed to 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 271 
 
 have become darker. His feet moved, however, to a definite 
 goal ; they carried him leisurely to the abbot's cell. " Enter," 
 said a voice, in response to his knock, a key being at the same 
 time turned from within. 
 
 Maidoc lifted the latch very timidly. The cell was much 
 handsomer than any in Ardmore. It had a higher roof, and 
 its wooden walls were adorned with devices of quaint colour. 
 The furniture too, though plain, was of polished oak: 
 
 The abbot sat in his usual chair, his grief-stricken face, 
 resting on one hand, was bowed over a couple of thick volumes 
 which lay on his desk. Uailsi sat near the window, looking 
 a picture of helpless misery. 
 
 Maidoc thought that he discerned traces of tears on the 
 abbot's cheek. He stood for a moment as if lacking breath to 
 speak 
 
 " Thou seest us in heavy affliction, brother," said Ere. 
 " If a father's joys have been denied thee, thou hast at least 
 been spared his sorrows." 
 
 Maidoc sat down, and laid his arm also on the desk. 
 
 " Thou hast been wronged," he said, in his usual mild 
 voice ; " but from the depths of our troubles our heavenly 
 Father sometimes raises us to yet higher joys." 
 
 " It maybe so," said the abbot, " but not in this case. I 
 shrink not from saying it to thee, for I feel that thou art our 
 friend. "When a man has set his whole heart on another 
 being, when he has showered oh her all the benefits he can 
 think of, when he has lived for yearain the belief that she 
 returned him the grateful affection wnich was all the recom- 
 pense he craved, then all of a sudden she tears the mask from 
 her face and proclaims herself a hypocrite, what can he 
 think? Why, that there is nothing on this earth worth 
 living for!" 
 
 " Nothing," said Maidoc, " to one who is an ambassador 
 for God?" 
 
 " True," replied the abbot. " I slight not my sacred calling. 
 
272 THE BEIDES OP AEDMORE. 
 
 It may be that I have made an idol of the girl. This may be 
 sent to wean my affections from earth, yet the process is a 
 very painful one." 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied Maidoc. " We can only measure the 
 depth of our own ingratitude to our Creator when we ex- 
 perience something of the same kind ourselves. But I have 
 reason to know that things are not quite so bad as thou hast 
 painted them. Thy child at this moment suffers even more 
 severely than thou doest." 
 
 "I am glad of it," exclaimed Uailsi, rising from her seat 
 at the window. " It is a relief to us, Bishop Maidoc, that we 
 can give expression to our feelings. Mor deserves to suffer." 
 
 The lady's lips were tightly pressed together; there was 
 a hardness in her glassy eyes. 
 
 " She hath defied us at Declan's shrine," continued Uailsi, 
 " in the presence of our whole subject community, surprising 
 her father in the very exercise of his office. She hath 
 affronted us by her low tastes, giving a hand which was 
 fashioned for princes to an adventurous crafty churl. She 
 hath distrusted her own mother, for the secret must have 
 been hidden in her breast for months. Maidoc, return 
 thanks to heaven that thou hast no daughter ! " 
 
 The good bishop was quite scared by this outburst. He 
 sat contemplating her with wide open eyes. 
 
 " That is its worst feature," said the abbot. " It has been 
 a deeply-laid scheme, carried out with cool persistence. Mor 
 is not an impulsive character.'' 
 
 " No,'' replied Maidoc, " but she is capable of hiding deep 
 feeling. She is as a rock in which wounds remain for ever, 
 not as a tree, where they are obliterated by the process of 
 growth." 
 
 " She takes that from me," said Uailsi. " And she hath 
 given me a wound which will not heal to-morrow; no, nor 
 next year : I shall carry it with me to my grave, for I will 
 never, never forgive her." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOHB. 273 
 
 " That is scarcely Christian," said her husband, looting up 
 at her beseechingly. " Thou canst hardly offer up the Lord's 
 Prayer when thou diest." 
 
 " It matters not," cried Uailsi, fiercely. " I shall not hurt 
 her, but she is no longer a child of mine." 
 
 " If thou wert a little calmer," said Maidoc, " I would try 
 to make thee see that she hath been led into this error without 
 her consent." 
 
 " I would fain hear no more of her," said Uailsi, as she 
 opened the door and passed out of it. 
 
 Maidoc, shutting it softly, turned to the abbot. 
 
 "Thou hast spoken," he said, "of the Lord's Prayer. 
 Hast thou forgotten the young man who went into a far 
 country ? " 
 
 " I know what thou wouldst urge," replied the abbot. "But 
 that young man was less base than my daughter. He had 
 made no profession of piety, or of a wish to do his duty 
 to his father ; therefore when repentance came, there was 
 some ground for believing it to be genuine." 
 
 " Thy daughter hath made a full confession to me, or rather 
 to my wife," said Maidoc. "Fergus and she have been 
 secretly betrothed for a year ; and she hath been most un- 
 happy, for she thought herself bound to obey him." 
 
 " And how," said the abbot, " could a girl instructed as she 
 has been take so false a view of her duty ? " 
 
 " I believe there was a partial threat used," replied Maidoc. 
 " Fergus seemed determined to give her up if she did not 
 show by her actions that she trusted him : thou, who hast 
 spent so much time in the study of the human heart, knowest 
 what a tyrant love is." 
 
 " Yet how," persisted the abbot, " could this bring her to 
 the length of affronting her father ? '' 
 
 " She dreamt not of that," replied Maidoc. " She was 
 married before sunrise this morning, but she knew not what 
 was to be till a few minutes before the ceremony, and she 
 
 19 
 
274 
 
 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 would not join in it except under the condition of remaining 
 under thy roof till thou hadst been made aware of the change 
 in her state. She imagined that the disclosure would be 
 made privately. She was as much startled and distressed as 
 her mother at the time it was done." 
 
 " Then she has been wronged ! " cried the abbot, starting 
 to his feet. "My instinct was a right one. Not on the 
 ground of his birth, whereon Uailsi builds so many objections, 
 but on that of his character. Fergus has a brazen boldness 
 that is the very reverse of manliness." 
 
 " Wouldst thou have given thy daughter to him if he had 
 come forward frankly ? " asked Maidoc 
 
 " I cannot tell what I should have done,'' replied the abbot. 
 " Perchance I would, if I had found that her affections were 
 so much engaged ; for I must say I once thought well of him." 
 
 " He has, then, gained nothing by his policy of conceal- 
 ment ? " said Maidoc. 
 
 " On the contrary," replied the abbot ; " he has lost my 
 esteem, though that may be worth little in his eyes. Yea, he 
 would have attained his object, after some struggles, per- 
 chance, had he followed the straight path. As far as I am 
 capable of examining myself,, I think not that it is in my 
 nature to be a cruel parent, I am stung by an adder which 
 I have cherished in my bosom." 
 
 " Thou speakest now of Fergus," said Maidoc, gently. " I 
 must confess that I also have been deceived. I cannot 
 imagine why any one should take suoh. a strange road to an 
 honourable goal." 
 
 " I wish not, in this matter, to be guided only by my feel- 
 ings," said the abbot. " I pity my daughter for having made 
 herself the wife of such a man. I need lift no finger to punish 
 her. She is in danger of suffering even more than she, 
 deserves. But, if I interest myBelf in her now, will not my 
 doing so have the appearance of sac etioning undutiful con- 
 duct ? " 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 275 
 
 " I read in the Old Testament," said Maidoc, " that if we 
 wish for light and health, one of the first things required of 
 us is that we hide not our face from our own flesh and 
 blood." 
 
 " Then will I see her," said the abbot, rising. " How comes 
 it, though, that we missed thy face in our solemn council, 
 held as it was within the sacred cell apportioned to thee for 
 thy studies ? " 
 
 "I feared," replied Maidoc, " lest the place being strait, 
 thou wouldst not have had honourable space for thy royal 
 visitors." 
 
 " Thou art ever in the rear," said the abbot, smihng. 
 " The OTaolain hath had but sorry hospitality. He hath 
 left with black Care as a fellow-rider, for ere dawn shall his 
 heralds call the men of the Desies to arms. The princely boys 
 were grieved indeed that they were not permitted to partake 
 of the marriage feast ; but the O'Faolain thought that his 
 duty to their father constrained him to bid them return to 
 Lismore." 
 
 " Many marvel at their coming," said Maidoc. " It cannot 
 have been with the hearty approval of Bishop Christianus." 
 
 " I trow not," replied the abbot, shrugging his shoulders. 
 " The O'Faolain's influence hath doubtless wrought on their 
 father thus to honour his brother. But we regretted thy 
 absence, for Bishop Christian's letter hath at length come to 
 hand, and though we are addressed in it as vassals, it never- 
 theless gives us a faithful account of the English force before 
 Wexford." 
 
 " Thou must answer the epistle cautiously," said Maidoc. 
 " Doth the O'Faolain think that there is might in Munster 
 to resist them ? " 
 
 " None can doubt it," replied the abbot. " But what cuts 
 us to the heart is to learn that they have come at the invita- 
 tion of the Leinster king, Dermod Mac Murrough. Thus is 
 Erin wounded by her own children." 
 
276 
 
 THE BEIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 " He filleth the cup of his evil deeds," said Maidoe. " He 
 who honoureth not women cannot honour his fatherland. 
 Hath not Dermod profaned the sanctuary of Bridget, taking 
 her co-arh to be the wife of his vassal ? And hath he not 
 emulated the exploit of the Trojan Paris, by stealing the fair 
 Devorgilla ? " 
 
 "True," replied the abbot; "but he is in honour with 
 those who bow to the authority of Rome ; for hath he not 
 covered the country with monastic foundations ? " 
 
 " He will need all the prayers of their inmates," said 
 Maidoe, " if haply the crimson stains of his sins may be re- 
 moved. But what more saith Christian's letter ? " 
 
 " That we have no mean foe," replied the abbot. " The 
 leaders, Fitz- Gerald and Fitz- Stephen, have set fire to 
 their fleet, that their followers may look for nought but 
 victory." 
 
 " Would that we had a spark of the like courage," exclaimed 
 Maidoe. " I am almost tempted to wish that the decision of 
 Fothadhna Canoine* might be rescinded, and that our younger 
 bishops might gird on spear and buckler." 
 
 " They can work more usefully," replied the abbot, " in 
 seeking to shield the helpless of both sexes, by moving the 
 hearts of rude warriors. That cause must be sacred which 
 brings the glow of martial pride to thy cheek." 
 
 Maidoe blushed. " I have spoken foolishly," he said. 
 "Farewell, I must needs go to partake of the marriage 
 banquet." 
 
 Passing into the sunshine, he found that a large company 
 had already gathered round several tables which had been 
 spread in the open air. These were crowned with a goodly 
 array of flowers of silver cups, and gem-studded drinking 
 horns ; with snowy wooden platters and spoons of a bronze- 
 like metal, whose composition has defied the scrutiny of 
 modern experts. Two lordly dishes, bearing the salmon, food 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE EEIDEti OF AKfiMOEE. 277 
 
 o'f nobles and princes, were flanked by small piles of wheaten 
 loaves, kneaded with honey. 
 
 The arrangements were, however, sadly spoiled by the de- 
 fection of the royal guests, as well as of those who ought to 
 have taken the lead in promoting the flow of merriment. 
 The seat of honour reserved for the abbot now stood empty, 
 and, as Maidoc had been from the first invisible, a look of 
 dismay gathered over the faces of Sorcha's relatives as the 
 banquet commenced. 
 
 " Who will be the governor of our feast ? " asked Amada. 
 
 "It were vain to hope for the abbot's presence," replied 
 Grainne\ " Maidoc and Ita comfort the other bride. What 
 sayest thou to my husband ? " 
 
 " Nay,"replied Amada ; " the guests might murmur, seeing 
 that he is of another family, and is not akin by blood to the 
 bride." 
 
 " If thou, Grainne\ wouldst do us a favour,'' suggested 
 Ardal, " thou wouldst thyself be our queen." 
 
 " I ! " exclaimed the matron. 
 
 " Yea," replied the bridegroom. " We need to be ruled by 
 a skilful hand. Thou wilt fill the chair better than the 
 O'Faolain himself would have done, and thou wilt do the 
 abbot's family a kindness by withdrawing attention from 
 them." 
 
 Grainne was not slow to comply with the suggestion. It 
 may be questioned if the company, postponing for a few 
 hours all further meditations on the dangers of their father- 
 land, were the less merry for lack of the absentees. 
 
 There was one guest, however, whose presence was felt by 
 Sorcha as of evil omen. Whilst his young bride wept in 
 Maidoc's cottage, whilst all tongues were ready to discuss the 
 motives and effects of his conduct, Fergus O'Flannahan sat at 
 the snowy board, trying to charm all ears by his forced wit. 
 
 Loud were the shouts as each guest, dipping his sprig of 
 rosemary in the pink foam of a silver tankard, drank long 
 
278 THE BBIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 life and health to the newly-married pair. Sorcha retired into 
 the cottage as an embroidered bag for the gathering of her 
 tinal, or marriage collection, was handed round. She was 
 followed by her grandmother. 
 
 " Alas, child ! " said Amada, " thou must be content with 
 my old hands in default of the fairer ones that should have 
 decked thee. Couldst thou have dreamt that the owner of 
 them would herself be a bride this morning ? " 
 
 " Thou speakest as if that were pleasant," replied Sorcha. 
 " It hath made her parents most unhappy." 
 
 " Have they not deserved it ? " said Amada. " Gould they 
 expect aught but that the girl would rebel some day, having 
 been reared, as it were, apart from her species ? " 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha ; " but in family wars both com- 
 batants are wounded. Mor's victory cannot bring her much 
 good. She looked as crushed and stunned as her mother did ; 
 thou seest that she could not feast with us. I fear that 
 Fergus hath not dealt quite fairly by her." 
 
 " Thou wert never charitable to him," said Amada, "and 
 it ill becomes thee to be otherwise. I always feel for those 
 who have been kept down. I cannot grieve at the Lady 
 Uailsi getting a humbling, though it be only herself who con- 
 siders it one. She might be proud to have such a son-in-law. 
 But I shall not quarrel with thee at the last moment." 
 
 " Nay," said Sorcha, kissing her. " I purpose making 
 Ardal wait. Tell him, when he comes, that I have gone to 
 Maidoc's house. I must have a word with Mor." 
 
 Darting behind the screen of trees which overshadowed 
 some of the cottages, she paused at the well-known door. Ita 
 opened in response to her knock. 
 
 M6r, lifting her tear-stained face, gave a scream of surprise. 
 In a moment Sorcha's soft arms were round her neck. 
 
 The contrast was very striking. The one bride, radiant, 
 beautiful, self-possessed, though with a pitiful quiver on her 
 drooping eye-lid ; the other, pale, trembling, and woe-begone. 
 
THE BEIDES OF ARDMOKE. 279 
 
 Sorcha kissed her friend with a vigour which seemed deter- 
 mined to infuse some of her own warmth into the pale cheeks. 
 
 " Thou art an angeL" said M6r, sobbing. " Oh, Sorcha ! 
 how often have I been ready to tell thee of this, but I had 
 promised secrecy." 
 
 " That was a pity," said Sorcha ; " women were never 
 meant to bear such burdens alone." 
 
 " Would that I had thought of its ending thus ! " continued 
 M6r. " I had no presentiment that he would announce it as 
 he did. Thinkest 1;hou that my parents will be for ever 
 angry ? It were hard if I could never speak with my mother 
 again." 
 
 "I know not their hearts," replied Sorcha, quietly; "but 
 if thou shouldst lack a home, come to me. I speak as one of 
 the foolish women, for I am sure that Fergus will make up 
 to thee for this. But at least neither Ardal nor I can 
 forget thee." 
 
 " Else thou wouldst not have sought me now," said M6r. 
 " And how may I thank Grainne for giving me the bride's 
 crown of honour ? But for her I should have stood with 
 braided locks by the altar. But go, my beloved one, thy 
 bridegroom waiteth for thee." 
 
 The door was now opened softly. Maidoc entered. He 
 was followed by another dark-robed figure. Ita smiled, but 
 Sorcha and M6r both started back as they recognised the 
 thought- seamed face of the abbot. 
 
 A ray of light appeared to dart from his eyes on beholding 
 Sorcha. Bending her head, she slipped quietly beneath his 
 outstretched arm and darted away with the swiftness of a 
 hare. She was followed more slowly by Maidoc and Ita, 
 who gladly seized this opportunity of witnessing her 
 departure. 
 
 Throwing herself on her father's breast, Mor made a full 
 and frank confession. Bitter repentance mingled with her 
 sorrow when she heard him say that he would not have pre- 
 
280 THE BBIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 vented her marriage had he seen that she was in earnest 
 about it. 
 
 *' I am punished for it all riow," said M6r, " I am 
 beginning my married life very differently from Sorcha. 
 It is as if I had stumbled on the threshold of my new 
 home." 
 
 " Let, then, this false step be thy last,'' replied her father, 
 kissing her. " I could not but forgive thee, for I should 
 have been too wretched had I done otherwise ; but I cannot 
 hold out the least hope of thy mother following my example. 
 She feels what has happened as a personal affront." 
 
 " I cannot wonder," said M6r. " The thought of it makes 
 
 me miserable. If I had been left to my own impulses -" 
 
 But here she checked herself. 
 
 "I know, I know," said the abbot, gently. "Thou must 
 bend thy whole energies to the task of being a good and 
 obedient wife, and I trust thou will find it no task." 
 
 " Thou wilt make Fergus regret it," said M6r, drying her 
 tears, " if thou art so kind to him. How much more 
 honourable would it have been had he received me from thy 
 hand ! " 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied her father ; " but we cannot help the 
 past. Thou hast been the chief sufferer, after all is told. I 
 purpose asking him to remain with thee here for a few days, 
 till we know that the country about Waterford is quiet." 
 
 "But we must not trespass on thy hospitality long," said 
 M6r. " Fergus's place is with his flock in their hour of 
 danger. Had it not been for me, he would have left with 
 the O'Faolain. But thinkest thou that we are in peril ? " 
 
 " If the Munstermen stand by each other, no," replied her 
 father. " We have no lack of heroic blood, but it hath been 
 too much spilt by the swords of brethren. The real difficulty 
 lies in disunion, and I confess that it is an evil story about 
 the Pope's gift to the English monarch." 
 
 " He must expect some service in return for it," said M6r. 
 
THE BBIDES OP AEDMOKE. 281 
 
 "Yea, truly," replied the abbot. "But one hath already- 
 been paid by Henry when he, with the French king Louis, 
 held the pontiff's bridle at Courcy-le-roi." 
 
 " 'Tis sad to think that we should be held as the price of 
 such a mummery," said M6r, " There will be one good for 
 me in our remaining here for two days — it may give my mother 
 time to relent. If she is not disposed to do so, I can bear 
 her anger more easily at a distance. I would sooner brave 
 Fitz- Stephen's archers," 
 
 " Hush," said her father ; " thou knowest not well the 
 drift of thine own words." 
 
 The abbot left Maidoc's cottage with a lighter heart. He 
 had, however, traversed only some twenty feet of the green- 
 sward when he beheld the mis-shapen form of Phelim. 
 
 " Ha ! " what doest thou here ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 Phelim was leaning against a tree, his long beard nearly 
 touching his knees, and his forked finger-nails clasping 
 one of its branches. 
 
 " Have I not seen it ? " he cried, in a shrill voice. "From 
 the bosom of the forest pond hath arisen a mist ; it hath 
 gathered itself to the form of a wraith to whom our fame is 
 hatefuL Such spirits ride the winds when invasion cometh 
 from the sea." 
 
 " Thou shouldst speak less with them, my son," said the 
 abbot, calmly. 
 
 " And shall I not speak with the Virgin of the Curragh ! " 
 shrieked Phelim. " For the holy Bridget hath bared her 
 glittering right arm to avenge on the men of Erin the 
 violence of Dermod; for the foot of man hath broken 
 through her hedge when the rude king carried off her 
 daughter. The fire of Kildare burneth low ; it shall be 
 quenched in the blood of the children of Erin." 
 
 The abbot was a naturally calm man, yet he trembled at 
 these words. There was a strange quiver in his voice as he 
 gave to Ardal and Sorcha their parting benediction. 
 
282 THE BEIDBS OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 The newly-wedded pair departed shortly before sunset. 
 Mounted in a two-wheeled chariot of basket-work, they were 
 escorted by a troop of young men on horseback. They drove 
 rapidly through the forest to the banks of the brimming 
 Blackwater, where a small skiff was in waiting to convey 
 them to Youghal. 
 
 The cloud which loomed on the political horizon soon 
 passed away. After a few anxious weeks, the abbot re- 
 ceived intelligence that the citizens of Waterford and Wex- 
 ford had come to terms with their besiegers; and that the 
 latter had settled down on land allotted to them by King 
 Dermod, whose authority the men of southern Leinster 
 agreed to acknowledge. 
 
 Fergus received an ample dowry with his bride, although 
 he had to confess his inability to pay the customary price for 
 her. He took her to Waterford, not quite at ease respecting 
 his own achievement. He had felt something like a sensa- 
 tion of defeat at the very moment of triumph. It was not 
 Uailsi's persistent disapproval, humbling as that w&s. He 
 had shown his own power, yet its exhibition seemed to have 
 placed him on a lower scale of the social ladder. Nor was 
 he without apprehension lest the very good he had so much 
 coveted might be made the instrument for checkmating him 
 in his ambitious schemes. He would have been tempted to 
 quarrel with that good, had Mor given him the least oppor- 
 tunity. She was so submissive to his slightest wish, so 
 active, so even-tempered, it seemed impossible for the most 
 critical eye to find fault with her conduct. Her very ex- 
 cellences fretted Fergus ; they made him feel his own mean- 
 ness. How came it that the kind-hearted young bishop was 
 half ashamed of his high-born and accomplished wife ? 
 
 The little cloud had melted away, but it might be the 
 harbinger of the tempest. At present there were no signs of 
 such a catastrophe, but Fergus was in the position of a very 
 ambitious man who knows not on which of two ladders to 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 283 
 
 set his feet. The one on which he had the firmest hold 
 might be planted on the smooth verdure of a bog. He had 
 felt the ground vibrate beneath it on the very day of his 
 marriage. The ladder had, it is true, become steadier, and 
 ■would probably last till after his climbing days were ended ; 
 but he had quite enough dread of its fall to make him wish 
 that he had not ventured quite so far on it. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVII. 
 
 It was the beginning of .September. The first faint streaks of 
 yellow lay on the drooping foliage of the beech trees that 
 clustered about the small but massively built church of 
 Youghal, the centre of a fishing village that, sheltering itself 
 against one of the grassy hills overlooking the broad bay at 
 the mouth of the Blackwater, had become a harbour of refuge 
 for storm-tossed mariners, as well as an emporium of the 
 merchandise destined to supply the wants of Lismore. 
 
 Under the beech trees was the bishop's cottage, a hexagonal 
 hut with two smaller ones attached to it, covered with 
 creeping ivy. The ground on each side of it had been well 
 planted with beds of leeks, onions, parsnips, and carrots, 
 amongst which a number of flowering rose - bushes gave 
 sustenance to the bees that swarmed, not only in a few 
 yellow hives, but in the trunks of two old trees, and in 
 several holes, half veiled by the creeping shamrock. From 
 the summit of the hill above the church there was a fine view 
 of the promontory of Ardmore, though not of the Bound 
 Tower, and of the sea rippling against the rim of white sand 
 that separated it from the tilled fields. On the inland side 
 the eye might wander over the forest country that extended 
 round the estuary, and mark where the flowing river, burst- 
 ing through its embankment of cliffs, expanded at once 
 almost into a small lake. 
 
 Fourteen months had passed since Sorcha's wedding. 
 They had been months of unbroken happiness. Her mind 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 285 
 
 had found abundant scope for its energies in quiet ministra- 
 tions amongst her husband's flock, as well as in lightening 
 the burdens which increasing age brought to her grand- 
 mother. Another image, too, had come to nestle in her 
 heart ; and as she stood at her cottage door in the light of 
 evening, she glanced down at the little bead-like eyes of her 
 infant, and thought of them as of two new stars kindled to 
 cheer her earthly pilgrimage. 
 
 Sorcha looked happy, as she had always done. The early 
 roses that had faded from the hedgerows seemed to have left 
 her their tints, both on lip and cheek. There was nought to 
 trouble her, save her grandmother's plaints, and even these 
 could be turned into smiles of gratitude. Amada's face, too, 
 often glowed with more than its wonted brightness. Grainne 
 had fulfilled her promise by contriving that all her grand- 
 children should visit her during the summer. 
 
 But a slight shade now gathered over the fair young brow. 
 " Why tarrieth Ardal ? " thought Sorcha. " He hath gone on 
 a preaching tour for two weeks, and hath sent me word that 
 he might be constrained to remain away for a few days longer. 
 It seems strange that he hath given me no reason for this." 
 
 A little ragged boy now darted forth from behind a cluster 
 of hazel bushes. 
 
 " Our bishop approaches," he said, "bringing a lady and a 
 child on horseback." 
 
 Sorcha threw on her dark tartan-fringed mantle, clasping 
 it on her breast with a massive silver-knobbed buckle. Lay- 
 ing her baby on Amada's knee, she ran swiftly along the 
 well-trodden turfy road. 
 
 At about a mile's distance she perceived her husband, 
 leading a horse by its bridle, whilst in the other hand he 
 carried a light episcopal crosier. A muffled figure sat on the 
 horse, and two men walked on its other side. 
 
 Ardal stopped as Sorcha approached. The muffled figure 
 dropped its veil ; in an instant she recognised Mor. 
 
286 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 But how changed ! The smooth, comely cheeks were 
 sunken ; the face, though no paler than when it left Ardmore, 
 was streaked with premature wrinkles, and the clear eyes 
 had a weird, haggard look about them. On her arm there 
 lay a round bundle,, which Sorcha's instinct at once divined 
 to be a Irving thing. She took the thin hand, which closed 
 tightly over hers. 
 
 "I am very tired," said Mor. " Thy husband is good 
 enough to remember what thou didst once promise for him." 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha. " We shall entertain angels, 
 though not quite unawares. But what has brought thee 
 into such a plight ? " 
 
 " I shudder to tell thee," said Ardal. "It is another in- 
 vasion. An English army has again landed on our shores, 
 stronger and more determined than the last was. It is led 
 by the Earl of Pembroke himself, and it has massacred, half 
 the people of Waterford." 
 
 Sorcha turned deadly pale. " How horrible !" she gasped. 
 " Is Fergus safe,, and the O'FaoIain ? " 
 
 "I believe so," replied Ardal, moving forward with the 
 horse. " I knew of it a few days ago, and was unwilling to 
 return home or let thee hear of it before I had learned fresh 
 details. The O'FaoIain hath proved himself a hero. These 
 two poor men have seen their wives and children mercilessly 
 butchered before their eyes.'' 
 
 Sorcha gazed sadly at the stalwart forms of those whose 
 sorrow seemed too deep for words. 
 
 " Are the English, then, beaten back ? " she asked. 
 
 " Nay, verily," replied Ardal. " The fair city liethat their 
 mercy. It was but last Tuesday that they and their waving 
 banners appeared before its walls. The citizens repulsed 
 them twice, led by the O'FaoIain." 
 
 Sorcha's cheek flushed. "Our prince is worthy," she 
 said. '* How, then, could the English conquer ? "Waterford 
 hath good ramparts." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 287 
 
 " There was a yellow-haired nephew of Fitz-Stephen's," 
 replied Ardal ; "a man of large body and quick grey eye, 
 named Raymond Fitz- William. He had marched with a troop 
 of the new settlers against Waterford just before the Earl of 
 Pembroke arrived, and had built a wooden fort outside its 
 walls. The O'Faolain lost no time in collecting Ms forces 
 and attacking it. But the men of Munster were unused to 
 the English arrows ; they were shamefully routed, and 
 seventy of the prisoners were thrown with broken limbs from 
 a rock into the sea." 
 
 Sorcha shuddered. " But these are ruffians," she exclaimed. 
 " Come they in the name of the Bishop of Borne and of King 
 Henry?" 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied Ardal. " It is the first chastisement 
 which the true Church inflicts on her erring sons. Men say 
 that Baymond, surnamed the Grosse, had no hand in this 
 massacre ; nay, that he pleaded for mercy, but his fellow- 
 captain, Henry, of Mount Maurice, executed the vile deed in 
 spite of him. Thou mayest judge if this would not spur the 
 men of Waterford to a desperate resistance. They shut then- 
 gates, determined to perish by the sword and by hunger 
 sooner than surrender. The O'Faolain had strong hopes of 
 holding out until my royal brother could^march to his aid ; 
 but, unhappily, Baymond's keen eye spied out Fergus's house,, 
 which, built of timber, rested on posts, and was half within 
 and half without the wall. He called his men, and by night 
 they hewed down the posts on which the house stood. It 
 fell, and a piece of the wall with it. The English soldiers, 
 rushed through the opening, and killed the people in the 
 streets. They gave no quarter ; but left the mangled bodies 
 of their victims lying in great heaps." 
 
 " And where wert thou ?" asked Sorcha, looking at M6r. 
 
 " I was not in our dwelling," replied her friend. " I had 
 sought refuge in the Danish church. Yet have I seen the 
 ruthless dagger plunged into the heart of tender women ; I 
 
288 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 have seen blood flowing like water, and suffering that will 
 haunt me to my dying day. The English soldiers have been 
 fiends in human shape ; but they have only repeated the 
 horrors which their forefathers inflicted on the holy men of 
 Bangor. Earl Strongbow affirms loudly that he hath come 
 to execute the commission given to his sovereign by the 
 Eoman bishop." 
 
 " And where is the O'Faolain ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 "He was captured in Eeynold's Tower," replied Ardal. 
 " He would have been slain but for the intervention of some 
 Irishmen in King Dermod's service." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Sorcha. " Is he with the invaders ? " 
 
 " He hath plotted long with them," replied Ardal. " In 
 fulfilment of an old covenant he hath given his daughter Eva 
 in marriage to the Earl Strongbow." 
 
 " Yea," said M6r, "and the bridal procession passed through 
 the streets over the bodies of the slain. They have since 
 gone with flying banners to Dublin." 
 
 " And where is Fergus ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " He remains," replied Ardal, " to assist the Danish 
 Tostius in making peace betwixt victor and vanquished. He 
 hath some favour with the Earl of Pembroke ; and his efforts, 
 as well as those of the other clergy, have had some effect 
 in staying the effusion of blood. For men become drunk 
 with slaughter as with wine, and lose the control of their 
 senses.'' 
 
 "I can well believe it of men," said Sorcha, "when a 
 woman could suffer herself to be whirled to the altar over 
 bleeding corpses." 
 
 All colour had now fled from Sorcha's face. Her brown 
 eyes seemed more lustrous than ever. 
 
 " I found refuge in the Danish church," said M6r, " be- 
 cause the foe respected not the sanctuary of ours ; and I 
 was an eye-witness of the princess's marriage. The trappings 
 of her pomp seemed a vile insult to our misery." 
 
THE BKIDES OF AEDMOBE. '289 
 
 " Are we safe here ? " asked Sorcha. 
 " I fear not,'' replied Ardal. " The church of Youghal is 
 ancient; and men say that the English warriors yearn 'to 
 raze all the monuments of Irish piety. To scatter a Culdee 
 family and to give the wives and children of bishops to the 
 sword would be to fulfil the Pope's commission. Their zeal 
 burns against you even as if you were Saracens.'' 
 
 " I doubt it not," said Sorcha. " Were it not well to warn 
 our friends at Ardmore ? " 
 
 " They know it," replied Ardal. " I have travelled towards 
 Lismore, to learn all I could before alarming thee ; for I 
 knew that I must counsel thee to flight. It was thus that, 
 hearing of Mor's journey, I went forth to meet her." 
 " Whither may we flee ? " asked Sorcha. 
 "My counsel is," replied Ardal, "that when the storm 
 breaks, it should find us together. There may be negotia- 
 tions for the safety of the defenceless ; and these will be best 
 carried out by our making them assemble in the religious 
 sanctuaries. And should resistance be necessary, we have a 
 fortress at Ardmore." 
 
 " My poor grandmother ! " exclaimed Sorcha. 
 " She will be rudely shaken," said Ardal. " But yet she 
 has a spirit that may rise with danger. The thought of suffer- 
 ing in a good cause may strengthen her feeble heart. I know 
 •that she will try to be brave for thy sake." 
 
 " Let me hasten homewards," said Sorcha ; " and do ye 
 .slacken your pace, lest she be startled by too sudden a sight 
 ofMor." 
 
 Ten minutes later Sorcha knelt by Amada. 
 " Grandmother," she said, "hast ihou xead df the 'early 
 martyrs ? " 
 
 " Yea, child," replied Amada, smiling down on little Eossa. 
 " There is no better reading. We had none of them in Erin, 
 unless we count Clemons, who was burnt for saying that 
 images and celibacy and the supremacy of the Eoman bishop 
 
 20 
 
290 THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 were corruptions of Christ's doctrine. But it was not the 
 heathen that killed him — oh no ! I like reading about the 
 martyrs ; there's nothing better, hardly even in the Gospels." 
 
 " Couldst thou have borne to be one of them ? " asked 
 Sorcha. 
 
 " If God had given me grace," replied Amada. " I doubt 
 not that He would have done it. But, child ! why art thou so 
 pale ? " 
 
 " It cometh, grandmother," replied Sorcha, in a half-chok- 
 ing voice ; " already is the Norman heel on our necks." 
 
 " Hath aught befallen Ardal or Grainne ? " cried Amada, 
 starting back in terror. 
 
 Eossa now began to scream. 
 
 " Not them," replied Sorcha, snatching up her infant. 
 " Grandmother, we are in God's hands, as this little creature 
 is in ours. But Waterford hath been taken and sacked. The 
 Earl of Pembroke, with an English army, hath landed in 
 Erin ; and his captains may march any day on Ardmore." 
 
 " Then, say I, fight him ! " exclaimed Amada, starting up ; 
 her face aglow with the heroism of her race. " Would that 
 I were a man 1 " she sighed, sinking back exhausted in her 
 chair. 
 
 The step of a horse was now heard on the outside turf. 
 "It is M6r Ni-Flannahan," said Sorcha, rising, and setting 
 the door wide open, whilst her husband assisted their guest 
 to dismount. 
 
 Amada at first failed to recognise the proud daughter of 
 the Cinel Conaill in the shrunken form before her. She 
 gazed with speechless bewilderment on the wan cheek and 
 clear blue eyes, which had in them such strange memories of 
 the past. 
 
 But the pale lips only needed to utter a word, ere the fair 
 head was pillowed on Amada's neck. 
 
 " Thank God that thou art safe I " she exclaimed. " Where 
 is thy husband ? " 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDMORE. 291 
 
 " He is well," replied M&r, disengaging herself. " Amada, 
 I have done thee much wrong in the past ; I am here to seek 
 thy forgiveness." 
 
 " Thou speakest in riddles," replied Amada ; " thou-never 
 didst me a wrong." 
 
 "Yea, but I did," persisted M&r. "I little thought who 
 were my true friends." 
 
 " I am confident that thou hast never shown me ill-will, 
 whatever thou mayest have felt," replied Amada. " Thou 
 art faint and weary ; thou knowest not what thow.sayest. If 
 we must all needs ask pardon of each other for. our thoughts 
 we should soon lack time to do aught elseJ' 
 
CHATTEB XXVHI. 
 
 These was little rest for any one that night. Ardal, after 
 taking some hasty refreshment, went forth to warn those of 
 his flock whom an invasion was likely to bring into danger. 
 Sorcha insisted on her grandmother's retiring to rest in the 
 small chamber which was allotted her ; approached, as was 
 then the custom, only by an outside door. M6r, however, 
 resisted all efforts to make her retire. 
 
 " I slept even whilst I was riding," -she said. " I was 
 conscious only of keeping a firm grasp of little Ere. It is 
 wonderful how an infant can make thee forget everything but 
 itself ; his least little movement was more to me than if I 
 had overheard the English soldiers planning the manner of 
 my death." 
 
 " It is of God's mercy that thou hast. escaped from them," 
 said Sorcha. " But thou must do 'thy utmost to reach 
 Ardmore ; sleep would nerve thee for it." 
 
 " That may be," said M6r:; " yet have I so much to tell 
 thee, that the load on my mind is heavier than that on my 
 body. Thou canst not think what -an exquisite comfort it is 
 to sit peacefully in a chair, and gaze at this bright fire, after 
 being tossed about in the storm. Thou canst not sleep 
 thyself ; then why not listen to me ? " 
 
 " If that be thy feeling, I am ready," replied Sorcha. 
 " Thou hast witnessed terrible scenes." 
 
 M6r was seated with her hands clasped over her knees, 
 her large clear eyes fixed mournfully on Sorcha's. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDM0RE. 293 
 
 " Yea," she answered, slowly ; " but it is not these which 
 wear down the body. There are gnawing troubles which we 
 must hide in our hearts." 
 
 " Hast thou had such ? " asked Sorcha, gazing tenderly at 
 her. 
 
 " I will tell thee," replied Mor. " I have no reason to 
 murmur against Providence, if thy days should prove to be 
 longer and happier than mine. The maiden who gives, not 
 honour to her parents must expect to receive little from her 
 husband." 
 
 "Hath Fergus been unkind to thee?" asked Sorcha, 
 starting. 
 
 " Not positively so," replied M6r. " Yet are there things 
 which I dare not breathe in my father's ear. If thou and 
 Bishop Ardal should think it. right for him to know them, 
 I must pray of your charity, that you will yourselves make 
 the disclosure." 
 
 " We will help you in every way we can," replied Sorcha. 
 
 " Fergus is often kind," continued M6r> "in a certain 
 tender way, when I am alone with him ; but he has never 
 given me the place that his wife ought to have. I fear his 
 heart has never really been in the Irish Church. He 
 inclines to the Anglo-Eomans, and is ashamed of being 
 married." 
 
 Sorcha looked horror-struck. 
 
 " Olrud was right," she said ; " albeit he seemed to ua so 
 uncharitable. What, then, impelled him to seek thee ? " 
 
 " That feeling I speak of," said M6r, " appeared not when 
 I first married him. I was his queen, his angel, for a month 
 or two ; my very steps were like the notes of a song. Then 
 one of his sisters came to dwell with us." - 
 
 " Was she jealous of thee ? " asked Sorcha. 
 
 " Nay," replied M6r; " yet hath she accustomed him to a 
 kind of flattery that benumbs his virtues. She was quite 
 scandalised when I made bold to contradict him, even in 
 
294 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 trifles. It ^as nothing that she said — her looks were un- 
 utterable." 
 
 " She would deem it impious," said Sorcha; "he being 
 thy husband and a bishop." 
 
 "Yea," replied M6r. "Before that time Fergus never 
 thought it strange in me to be frank. And I have learnt how 
 well he can flatter, by seeing how he practises it on those 
 members of his flock who are enriched by what cometh over 
 the waves." 
 
 " Thinkest thou that it hath all been hollow ? " asked 
 Sorcha, trembling in spite of herself. She had a glimpse into 
 the abyss from which Ardal's hand had plucked her. 
 
 "I know -not,'' replied M6r. "We differed about church 
 ritual. Fergus hath adapted the old Irish forms to those 
 of Borne as far as is possible. It matters not to me that 
 he hath the ' Kyrie Eleison,' or even the ' Pange Lingua ; ' 
 yet I cannot approve their being in dead tongues." 
 
 " Will Fergus not be grieved," asked Sorcha, " if his beau- 
 tiful church should be destroyed ? " 
 
 " He will find means to protect it," replied M6r, with a 
 strange ring in her voice. " I fear lest these changes should 
 have been made less with a desire to improve our services, 
 than to accustom men by degrees to those of foreigners." 
 
 " Thy voice is as the echo of Olrud's," said Sorcha. 
 " Hast thou further ground for believing that Fergus's heart 
 is with the aliens ? " 
 
 " I have but too much," replied M6r. " He is on the best 
 of terms with the prelates of the Danish and of the new 
 English colony. One of them, thou knowest, is that same 
 Tostius who was at Ardmore two years ago." 
 
 " He would recollect thee," observed Sorcha. 
 
 M6r looked inexpressibly sad. " It is surprising," she said, 
 " how sensitive I was to what did not really hurt me. I had 
 been accustomed when at Ardmore to receive more considera- 
 tion than was perhaps my due, so it is possible that I was over 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 295 
 
 quick to detect the want of it. When .Fergus introduced me 
 to the members of his flock I fancied ±hat there was a sup- 
 pressed complacency in .the tone with which he uttered my 
 name. But one evening Bishop Tostius spent a few hours 
 beneath our roof. Enda was present, and Fergus merely 
 said, ' My sister,' glancing at both of us." 
 "Wert thou not .angry ? " inquired .Sorcha. 
 "Yea," replied M6r; "I felt nay cheek tingle, and I 
 resolved to enlighten our old friend by speaking boldly of my 
 husband; but I soon found myself oppressed with an un- 
 conquerable timidity. "Whether it were Enda's presence, or 
 the fear of offending Fergus, I know not, but I felt my heart 
 flutter in such a way that I could not get the words out — it 
 was positive pain to try. I knew that Fergus was in the 
 habit of visiting Bishop Tostius, yet I was startled when I 
 observed on what a confidential footing the two stood. Some 
 days afterwards my husband informed us that he wished to 
 entertain some English priests. He would be grateful, he 
 said, if I would take pains to provide them with a suitable 
 banquet. But as they had some important questions to 
 discuss, he thought the presence of women would be an 
 embarrassment. I acquiesced, and .so, I fancied, did Enda. 
 I have rarely found an afternoon pass more slowly than that 
 one did. The sand seemed as if it would never run down. 
 Enda was suffering from a headache, and had shut herself up 
 in her chamber. Thou mayest think, then,, what was my 
 surprise when my servant told me .that she had slipped out, 
 and, entering by the front door, had presided at the table ! 
 
 " I taxed her with it in Fergus's presence. She and her 
 brother turned it into a jest, saying that she had played a. 
 clever trick in thus asserting our feminine privileges. But I 
 felt that I was being wronged ; that my husband sought to 
 hide from his new .friends the fact of his being married. I 
 know that I said something petulant, and I shed abundance 
 of tears. Then Fergus and Enda talked together, ignoring 
 
290' THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 mjA'presences. It was more than I could endure. I was weak 
 enough to rise from my ehair and ask his forgiveness. Canst 
 thou imagine my being brought so low as that ? " 
 
 " Nay, verily," replied Sorcha, her brown eyes flashing 
 indignantly? 
 
 " I cannot live; without love," continued M6r. " I suppose 
 I have somewhat of the nature of a dog in me ; at least I felt 
 a strong sympathy with that animal. 
 
 " I never dreamt that Bishop Tostius had been amongst 
 the guests. But one day I met him in the street. 
 
 " He was coming out of a house, whither he had carried 
 the Host. On seeing me hejstarted, gave the sacred elements 
 to an attendant priest, and stepped forward with fatherly 
 frankness. Knowest thou, Sorcha, I was so desolate at that 
 moment, I almost felt as if I could fly to him for comfort. 
 
 " 'What hath brought thee here ? ' he asked. ' Thy father 
 must not be in Waterford without honouring my poor roof 
 with his presence.' 
 
 " ' My father is at Ardmore,' I replied. ' I have been 
 wedded for more than six months. My husband is Bishop 
 Fergus O'Flannahan." 
 
 " The prelate looked, startled ; his brows knitted them- 
 selves in anger. Then ha. said in a compassionate tone — 
 
 " ' It is not possible- that Fergus O'Flannahan should be 
 thy husband.' 
 
 " ' Wherefore not ? ! ' I asked. 
 
 " ' Because, my daughter,' he replied, * Fergus O'Flannahan 
 is an ordained priest.' 
 
 " It was as if he had thrust a dagger into my heart. By 
 a great effort I kept myself from fainting. 
 
 " ' When became he so ? ' I asked. 
 
 " The kind prelate held my arm firmly. Indeed, had it 
 not been in the street, I doubt not that he would have sup- 
 ported me further. He drew me into an outbuilding of the 
 house he had just quitted, shutting the door on the curious 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 297 
 
 faces that had gathered outside, and placing me so as to 
 shelter me' from the gaze of a wench who was within. 
 
 " ' Fergus was received into our communion whilst at 
 Clugny,' he said, in a very low voice. ' I became aware of this 
 only a few days ago. His consecration presupposed his 
 having taken the vow of celibacy.' " 
 
 Sorcha's face had become as pale as M6r"s. 
 
 " What aileth thee ? " asked the latter. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Sorcha; but her hand was trembling. 
 
 " Let me give thee some water," said Mdr. " I marvel not 
 at it frightening thee." 
 
 " Go on," murmured Sorcha. 
 
 " Thou mayest "wonder that the good bishop had not heard 
 of Fergus's marriage," continued Mdr. " But the bitterness 
 of the feud between our countrymen and the Danes had 
 helped Fergus to conceal it from his Romish friends. The 
 two parties make no effort even to become acquainted with 
 each other's tongue, save for the purpose of barter. 
 
 " He counselled me to return to Ardmore. ' Thy stay 
 under Fergus's roof is sacrilege,' he said. ' Come with me 
 and I will arrange for thee a safe escort. Or, if thou dislikest 
 a scandal, I could arrange for thy spending a little time with 
 my sister, the new Abbess of Kilcheehan.' 
 
 " ' I will consider of it and let thee know this evening, 1 1 
 replied. ' I see thou art my friend, but I feel too much 
 stunned to decide on anything at this moment.' 
 
 " ' I understand thee,' he said. ' But remember that if 
 thou art in trouble thou mayest count on my doing my 
 utmost to get thee out of it." 
 
 " I thanked him warmly, and then hastened away. 
 
 " Enda and Fergus were both at home when I reached our 
 dwelling. My husband looked brighter than usual when I 
 entered. 
 
 " ' Fergus,' I said, ' is it true that thou art a Romish 
 priest ? ' 
 
298 
 
 THE BKIDES OP ABDMOBE. 
 
 "His whole countenance fell, and became suffused with 
 crimson. I had never seen him look thus before. 
 
 " Enda burst out laughing. 
 
 " ' Thou lovest a jest,' she said. 
 
 " Fergus at once recovered his self-possession. ' I confess 
 to having gone through some ceremony when I was abroad,' 
 he said, shrugging his shoulders, - 1 just to try what it was 
 like. They have so many mummeries there that one more 
 could not signify much.' 
 
 '"I would fain that thou hadst told me of it,' I said, 
 ' before I agreed to be thy wife.' 
 
 " ' Sit thee down, thou sunbeam of my heart;,' said Fergus, 
 in his tenderest voice. ' I would have told thee of it had it 
 been done in earnest. I hut hoodwinked the good people for 
 the sake of being allowed to see things which must otherwise 
 have remained strange to me. It cannot possibly hurt me, 
 for my countrymen know well that I am a true son of the 
 Irish Church. What .sayest thou, O sister, more beloved than 
 the light ? ' 
 
 "'I say,' replied Enda, ' that you had both best consult 
 your own true interests by keeping it as secret as possible. 
 You are husband and wedded wile by tihe laws of your own 
 country, and you have no wish ±o Iwse in exile.' 
 
 " Thou seest, Sorcha, that they treated it as a jest. Yet 
 had I my doubts. My pride kept me from writing to con- 
 sult my father ; the image of my mother's scornful face 
 rose before me ; and I dreaded Fergus's wrath more than 
 anything in this world. For the welfare of another was 
 bound up with our living in peace." Mbi turned her head in 
 the direction of her sleeping child. 
 
 " I was full of gloomy forebodings. Fergus became kinder 
 to me than ever ; and when he was again visited by an 
 Anglo-Eoman priest, I refrained from showing myself. Then 
 came the invasion, the siege, and the horrible massacre. 
 Bishop Tostius never knew that I had found shelter in his 
 
THE BBIDES OF AKDMOEE. 299 
 
 church ; I was received there through the kindness of a 
 priest with whom Fergus had become intimate. As I told 
 thee, I beheld the Princess Eva'& marriage. Fergus did not 
 desert me ; on the contrary, he visited me often during these 
 dreadful hours, when our lives were hanging, as it were, on a 
 thread. Yet an indefinable something bade me refrain from 
 calling him husband ; it was either the dread of making him 
 dislike me, or it was that voice in the breast whose sound is 
 unheard by any ear save our own. It was Fergus who pro- 
 cured me an escort hither. I thought that he had arranged 
 for Enda's accompanying me ; but she hung back at the last 
 minute, and I had an impression, as I bade them farewell, 
 that I was doing so for the last time." 
 
 "Thinkest thou that they would fain be rid of thee?" 
 asked Sorcha. 
 
 " Yea," replied M6r. " I have mused about it during my 
 journey, and I see clearly that if the invasion succeeds, 
 Fergus will have the strongest possible interest in repu- 
 diating me. His ambition is almost equal to his vanity. 
 If things had remained as they were, I might have been a 
 stepping-stone to distinction for him, but since Earl Strong- 
 bow's arrival I fear he will become Soman altogether." 
 
 " He hath never loved thee truly," said Sorcha. 
 
 " I cannot believe him wholly a hypocrite," replied Mor. 
 "He is romantic, and more changeable than the wind. 
 Some men have a sort of affection for women, but it is not 
 of the self-sacrificing kind. They love themselves first and 
 best of all ; in fact, they know not their own hearts." 
 
 "Yea/' said Sorcha, "and most unhappily for us, they 
 feel very warmly when the image of one of us is on their 
 minds, and are more impetuous in showing it than their 
 more sober and constant rivals." 
 
 " Ardal is a good husband," said M6r. 
 
 "Yea," replied Sorcha; "I can truly say that he is. 
 Not that he cannot be authoritative when he likes. I have 
 
800 
 
 TEE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 much less of my own way than I seem to have. But some- 
 how or other, the sacrifice of my self-will seems to bring me 
 happiness — to differ from him would be just the same as to 
 differ from myself." 
 
 " I used to think," said Mor, " that getting my own way 
 would make many crooked things straight. 1 ' 
 
 " So did I," said Sorcha. " Yet I believe it is better as it 
 is. The exercise of our own wills often leads us into misery, 
 for we find that the things we sought after are no real' good 
 after all. We are relieved of some responsibility when another 
 undertakes to judge for us." 
 
 " That may be pleasant enough," said M6r, " to those 
 who have something firm to rely on. But hath not Fergus's 
 conduct to me been base ? " 
 
 "Most people would call it so," replied Sorcha; " but he 
 cannot hurt thee beyond a certain point As my grand- 
 mother says, our worst enemies cannot go beyond the length 
 of the ropes to which they are fastened like the cattle. For 
 to the influence of. men hath Providence placed a bound, as 
 well as to the sweep of the mighty waves." 
 
 "True," replied Mor. "Fergus may humble me in the 
 eyes of others as he hath done- in my own, but he cannot 
 change my mind nor my character ; he cannot rob me of the 
 glorious prospects that are before every Christian. Perhaps 
 I needed this discipline. I was very proud and very dis- 
 contented." 
 
 Sorcha rose and' kissed her; 
 
 "My best counsel is," she said, "to devote thy whole 
 mind to the task which Providence hath set thea. "Who 
 knoweth what possibilities lie in that little cradle ?" 
 
 M6r smiled very sadly. " I have been tempted," she said, 
 to wish that I had no such gift ; for his father's conduct 
 throweth a stain upon him." 
 
 " Nay," exclaimed Sorcha, " there was a far deeper slur on 
 the holy Bridget's birth. And it can never be hidden that 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOEE. 801 
 
 our native Church sanctioned the marriage of her bishops. 
 "Why should not thy Ere follow in the steps of other priests' 
 sons — of Patrick, for example ? " 
 
 M6r smiled more brightly. " That would be a compen- 
 sation," she said. " I have heard Bishop Maidoc say that 
 our greatest pleasures come oft from our greatest pains. I 
 may be the better able to train him because of my sufferings." 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha ; " and may he not perchance be 
 inspired by his' remembrance of thee to do great things after 
 the hands with which thou hast held him are crumbled into 
 dust ? It may be thine to kindle a spark which shall blaze 
 for ages like Bridget's fire at Kildare." 
 
 The object of these bright hopes now stirred uneasily. A 
 cry issued from his soft lips, and M6r became engrossed in 
 the task of quieting him. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 Tidings of the conflict at Waterford had already reached 
 Ardmore. Ardal had lost no time in despatching to the 
 abbot a letter announcing his intention of seeking for 
 Amada, Sorcha, and Mor a safe shelter near the sanctuary 
 of Declan. 
 
 It was a bleak morning when they left Youghal. Sorcha's 
 heart swelled almost to bursting as, seated in a tiny coracle 
 of hides and wicker-work, she looked back on the little stone 
 church with its square bell tower, embosomed in the yellow- 
 ing beech trees. The wind had a touch of winter in it, and 
 rippled the surface of the corn that clothed the sides of the 
 hills overlooking the estuary, into waves of gold. Sorcha 
 stepped on to the opposite bank with a feeling that she had 
 for the last time beheld the scene of her wedded happiness. 
 
 They journeyed on horseback through the forest, and on 
 reaching Ardmore they found that a pleasant surprise 
 had been prepared for them. Maidoc and Ita, who had for 
 the last year occupied Mael-Patrick's cottage, had lost no 
 time in vacating it, and returning into their old dwelling. 
 
 " We thought that Amada would like it," explained Ita. 
 " It would seem so strange and cold for her to be at Ard- 
 more under any other roof. You are more than welcome 
 when you come to live under Declan's bell." 
 
 Ardal hastened, almost before sunrise, to acquaint Mor's 
 parents with the fact of her presence. 
 
 " Fergus hath been disposed to slight her," he said. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 308 
 
 " His heart is with the aliens, and he will in all likelihood 
 become a priest at their altar. Thy daughter, indeed, hath 
 been informed that he hath accepted consecration at their 
 hands." 
 
 "Vile hypocrite!" exclaimed the abbot, scornfully. "I 
 wonder not that thou tremblest to speak of such villainy. He 
 hath been faithless to his spiritual mother, even to the 
 Church which hath nourished him. Can we, then, marvel 
 at his being a bad husband ? " 
 
 Uailsi had sat quite impassive whilst her husband spoke. 
 Now, looking up from her embroidery, she asked : 
 
 " In what way does it interest us ? " 
 
 Ardal recovered from his agitation in a moment. He had, 
 indeed, been on the point of confessing his own errors. 
 He responded to Uailsi's question by a look as stern as her 
 own. 
 
 " I thought, lady," he replied, " that the blood of the Cinel 
 Conaill and the Ua-Breasail could not well be changed into 
 a commoner fluid. A diamond retaineth its lustre even after 
 it hath been trampled in the dust. M6r Ni-Flannahan is still 
 thy daughter." 
 
 " Yea," replied Uailsi ; " but I seek not to stay the course 
 of Divine justice. She hath chosen her own path ; let her 
 keep to it." 
 
 " Uailsi," said the abbot, " she is my child as well as thine. 
 I have not insisted on thy pardoning her whilst we thought 
 she was happy ; but now that she is in a manner cast off, I 
 would fain have her dwell with us." 
 
 " Arrange thy plans," said Uailsi, rising ; " but on the day 
 that Mor entereth thy house, I leave it." 
 
 " Stay," exclaimed Ardal, laying his hand on the proud 
 woman's arm. " I would have thee bethink thee what thou 
 doest. We walk on no Tyrian carpets. Sleepless nights and 
 anxious days are now our portion. For the din of battle 
 draweth near, and we may count, not the weeks only, but 
 
304 
 
 THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 the hours, ere it hemmeth us round with its horrible 
 music." 
 
 " Seekest thou to terrify me ? " rephed Uailsi. " I tell 
 thee that, though Ardmore Tower were razed to its founda- 
 tions, though every stone of Deolan's shrine were east into 
 the waves, I have in mine own breast a fortress which fear 
 cannot penetrate." 
 
 " Nor pity ? " said ArdaL " Would thine eye behold but for 
 a moment the outcast one, reft from all that she hath been 
 wont to hold dear ; pale, worn, and afflicted ; bearing in her 
 arms the image of what she once was in thine, but all too 
 weak to protect it from the coming storm, thou wouldst find 
 the gates of thy fortress opening. Mor cometh not to thee 
 claiming her natural rights, she cometh as a suppliant." 
 
 " She hath the less need of aught from me that she hath 
 so eloquent a friend," replied Uailsi, bowing haughtily as she 
 passed out df the cottage door. 
 
 " It were vain Tfor us to force a reconciliation," said the 
 abbot, when his wife had disappeared. " It would only make 
 life unbearable to us all. Before I speak with Mor., however, 
 I would fain have thy counsel. Thinkest thou that I should 
 take any steps towards making Fergus acknowledge her more 
 epenly? " 
 
 " I confess," replied Ardal, " that I like not the prospect of 
 her waiting here in suspense till she learns his pleasure. 
 Thou mightest well despatch a messenger with a letter to 
 him, and challenge him to answer plainly whether he holdeth 
 himself bound by his Eoman consecration or purposeth to 
 retain what I must consider the higher title of an Irish 
 bishop. There is no time for trimming between the two 
 parties now. It will be a life and death struggle betwixt us 
 and the English. "We shall have to fight for our religious 
 freedom, if we would not tamely submit both soul and body 
 to an alien rule." 
 
 " But is there any likelihood," asked the abbot, " of the 
 
THE BEIDES OF ARDMOKE. 805 
 
 Anglo-Eoman authorities punishing Fergus for the breach of 
 his vow ? " 
 
 Ardal shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot tell," he replied. 
 " I have studied their politics carefully of late, and I suspect 
 that they are trying to gain over the native pastors to 
 make the English conquest easier. Once let us acknowledge 
 the Pope's supremacy, and Henry becomes our lawful sove- 
 reign. For which reason I am inclined to think that a born 
 orator of Fergus' stamp will be valuable in their eyes, and 
 that they will therefore be disposed to overlook some of his 
 inconsistencies." 
 
 " Yea, verily," said the abbot, "he may atone for them 
 partly by penance, and partly by renewed zeal in the service 
 of his new masters . He will be eager to wipe out the blot on 
 his reputation. Oh, Ardal ! we have sunk low indeed, for 
 lack of our ancient manliness, both at Bathbresail and at 
 Kells ! My daughter's fate is but a type of what awaiteth 
 both our nation and our Church ! " 
 
 " Hast thou taken any measures for our defence ? " asked 
 Ardal. 
 
 "Yes," replied the abbot. "I have instructed our 
 Erenach to store grain and water, in the Bound Tower. 
 All our parchments are removed thither. I would not have 
 them buried in the ground, lest perchance the memory of 
 them might perish ; yet they fill a space that can ill be 
 spared." 
 
 " I would not have it otherwise," said Ardal. " What 
 availeth provender for the body, if that which should furnish 
 the food of our minds — nay, of our immortal souls — be allowed 
 to perish ? There is not a woman nor child in Ardmore who 
 would not sooner die than see our books given to the hand 
 of the spoiler. " 
 
 " Yea," replied the abbot, " thou speakest like a son of the 
 great Brian. But are not the ways of Providence inscrut- 
 able ? So hard is it for the struggling light of the spirit to 
 
 21 
 
306 THE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 
 
 force its way upwards amidst surrounding darkness ; yet 
 the waves of barbarism are allowed to swell up and put it out. 
 Athens resisted the power of the Persians ; yet she, too, hath 
 been trampled in the dust, and most of her treasures, borne 
 to a foreign shore, were destroyed by the ignorant Goth. So 
 will it be with our colleges." 
 
 Ardal smiled. " Thou speakest well," he replied, " if it be 
 only of human learning. Yet methinks that amongst. our 
 treasures there is one that hath more than the aegis of 
 Athena to guard it. Its leaves may be torn, and scattered 
 before the wild blast of the hills ; they may light the fires of 
 Strongbow's troopers; they may be ground down to fine 
 dust ; but yet from them ariseth a fragrance that shall pass 
 into the very structure of the world ; for He who cannot he 
 hath said it. Let Plato and Herodotus perish ; let the very 
 names of Ilion and of Hellas be blotted from the memory of 
 man — that book shall live ! and though it be buried, it shall 
 rise again." 
 
 " Thou speakest truly, my son," said the abbot, laying his 
 fatherly hand on Ardal' s shoulder. " I often feel as if the 
 burden were too much for me, and tremble lest I be called 
 to account for the charge of such treasures. But since the 
 Almighty's own Word is amongst them, He will surely watch 
 over it, and perhaps even for its sake spare Homer and 
 Sophocles." 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied Ardal, " how should we know into 
 what kind of world the revelation came if it were not for 
 these old histories ? And the poets are prized by us, not 
 merely for their own beauties, but because they illustrate the 
 forms of ancient speech, and place beyond cavil the meaning 
 of terms employed in the Sacred Word." 
 
 "Thou speakest truly," said the abbot. "As all human 
 flesh became sanctified by the touch of our Incarnate Lord, 
 so will the Grecian tongue ever seem to us bathed in a super- 
 natural lustre." 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 307 
 
 " Hast thou called any warriors to our aid ? " asked 
 Ardal. 
 
 "Nay," replied the abbot. "We can dream of no 
 lengthened siege with these women and children ; the issue 
 of this dire conflict must be decided elsewhere. Our tower 
 will hold but scant provision ; it will only enable us to parley 
 for a short time. I have, however, sent messengers to learn 
 the intentions of the neighbouring chieftains. One and 
 all of them seem inclined to follow the advice which hath 
 been given them from Lismore ; which is, to swear allegiance 
 to Henry." 
 
 " Have they, then, forgotten the ties of blood ? " said Ardal, 
 bitterly. " Thinkest thou that any word of mine might 
 rouse them to succour the O'Faolain ? " 
 
 " Thy face might do it," said the abbot ; " for thou bearest 
 the very features of the heroic Brian. Only let the locks 
 hang over thy forehead, and they will think that he still 
 liveth." 
 
 " That spell is broken," said Ardal. " The united powers 
 of Anjou, Aquitaine, Normandy, and England could not 
 crush us. But a spirit of darkness hovereth in the air. It 
 is this which hath weakened our right arm." 
 
 " Yea, truly," replied the abbot ; " the false teaching 
 creepeth everywhere. It hath polluted the well of Carthagh, 
 and we cannot keep it from trickling into that of Declan." 
 
 " Thou speakest no mysteries," said Ardal; '"for the new 
 prelates have shown the first example of submission. Our 
 Irish ones think, I doubt not, that they kiss a soft glove ; 
 they will find an iron one beneath it." 
 
 " I think that thou wilt approve my counsel," said the 
 abbot. " Methinks that the chiefs of the Deisi will fight ; 
 but if they shrink from doing so, it is not for us to grasp 
 carnal weapons." 
 
 " The men of the Deisi have been but too ready for 
 pettier contests," said Ardal, "when it was but a question of 
 
308 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 stolen cattle. But I blame them not. The blood of our 
 country be on these foreign priests' heads. Yet what is 
 before us but the extinction of our ancient foundation ? " 
 
 "Or its transformation into a community of Eoman 
 monks," replied the abbot. " It will but share the fate of 
 Ion a. We can no more drive back the cloud that gathereth 
 above the ocean than attempt to avert this." 
 
 " Not so ! " exclaimed Ardal, with flashing eyes. " It 
 shall never be said that Erin died tamely. Thou, as a spiri- 
 tual ruler, art perhaps wise to counsel moderation ; but I 
 have royal blood in my veins! I will go forth to these 
 coward chieftains ! I will urge them forward to the 
 battle ! " 
 
 " Do so, if thou wilt," said the abbot. " Yet bethink thee 
 of thy wife and child.'' 
 
 " Sorcha would despise me were I to act otherwise," 
 replied Ardal ; "so would Amada. I must leave them under 
 thy protection for the present. I forget aught else but that 
 I am an Irishman." 
 
 The abbot gazed at him fondly. " Would that Fergus had 
 been like thee ! " he murmured to himself. " Go, my son," 
 he said, aloud. " The God of thy fathers bless thee ! " 
 
 Ardal hastened towards the cottage to make known his 
 resolve. But as he walked close to the turfy wall of the 
 rath, he was startled by a serpent-like hiss. 
 
 Turning back, he saw two glittering eyes peering at him 
 from the top of the wall. The face of Phelim O'Bric, with 
 his chin planted on the edge of the parapet, loomed down at 
 him with portentous solemnity. 
 
 " Seekest thou a sword ? " asked a grating voice. " There 
 is one in thy family which never resteth. It hath drunk the 
 blood of thy brothers, and the drops on it are not to be 
 washed out by the floods of Shannon. Woe ! woe to the 
 house of Brian ! The glory of the Milesian Eber hath vanished ; 
 it will be buried in the dust of ages. Woe ! woe to the fane 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDHOBE. 309i 
 
 of Declan ! The wind bloweth from the east ; it briaigetBi 
 the sparks with it, and the flame of that burning shall be as 
 a beacon to future times." 
 
 Ardal's blood ran cold. There was more than a grain of 
 truth in what this half-witted man had said about his 
 kinsmen's sword. And for months the wind had blown 
 from the east with astonishing persistence. The voice 
 continued : 
 
 " Bring an oblation of peace offerings. The steel must be 
 bright that would chase away the devil's brood of Anjou. 
 The flame cometh, yea, it waxeth strong; it thirsteth to 
 lick up the tarnished glory. Ardmore shall be but as a brand 
 to feed it." 
 
 Ardal stayed to hear no more. Wiih beating heart and 
 flushed cheek he sought the cottage, there to pour into loving 
 ears the tale of his new resolve. 
 
 But it was with much misgiving that he sjjoka. Aniada 
 bent forward to catch his every word, whilst Sorcha stood 
 with averted face at the little window, holding her infant on 
 her left arm. 
 
 As Ardal finished his recital, she turned slowly round. It 
 was a moment of extreme suspense. The strong man felt 
 that a word from her could overthrow all Ms heroic aspira- 
 tions. Her eyes were downcast, her lip quivering. 
 
 " I am no Andromache," she said, "to bid thee place thy 
 care for me and for our child before thy country's welfare. 
 Go, for we are safe in the arms of the Everlasting One." 
 
 Ardal kissed away her fast-falling tears. "I knew that 
 thou wouldst say so," he said; "yet the welfare of Erin is 
 not more dear to me than thine. Thou wilt miss me sorely 
 in the hour of danger, yet, methinks, I can do yet more 
 for my country. We have no right to ask the help of Provi- 
 dence if we obey not His calls." 
 
 Sorcha nerved herself to prepare her husband's travelling 
 wallet. Amada sat with folded hands watching her every 
 
810 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE. 
 
 movement, and from time to time pouring forth uncon- 
 sciously some word of prayer. At length all was ready. 
 
 Mounted on a silver-bridled horse, clad partly in clerical 
 dress, partly in the chequered trews and fine linen of a 
 chieftain, Ardal paused on the herder of the forest to speak 
 his last farewells. 
 
 He had parted from his most loved ones within the 
 cottage. A tress of Sorcha's hair, bound about his wrist, 
 seemed to clasp him like a living thing. His eye fell on 
 many sorrowing faces. 
 
 "What will thy return be ? " said Maidoc, solemnly. " Will 
 thine eyes behold this fair pile as it is ? The gloomy pro- 
 phet, Phelim, would have us believe that it is soon to perish. 
 He hath circled about it like an ill-omened bird since we 
 learnt of the fall of Waterford." 
 
 "Hath Cacht no spell to conjure him?" asked Ardal. 
 " I dread not what he saith, but his words distil fear into 
 the minds of those who hearken to him. To thee, Maidoc, 
 and to thee, our revered abbot, I commit the charge of my 
 beloved wife." 
 
 The two men answered by a silent pressure of the hand. 
 They then walked sadly homewards, whilst Ardal disappeared 
 into the wood. The path which he followed was thickly 
 planted with memories. There was the pond from which 
 Phelim's uncouth form had arisen to trouble the bliss of his 
 spousal day. There was the shining river, in whose depths 
 he could almost picture the mirrored image of Sorcha's face, 
 when her ruby lips first uttered the words which revealed to 
 him that he was free to woo her. There was the village, the 
 very faces of the women who had been as the background to a 
 most lovely picture, and how was he fulfilling the vows that 
 had then seemed so easy ? 
 
 Ardal tried to banish these thoughts. Sorcha's heart was 
 with him, the curl of brown hair seemed to tell him that he 
 was doing her no wrong. He could not bear to think of hor 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEB110EE, 311 
 
 weeping in loneliness ; yet sunely, for her sake, it were better 
 to fulfil well the mission which he had undertaken. He was 
 strong in the purity of his purposes ; for it was no vain 
 ambition that had led him to gird a golden-hilted sword 
 to his side as the insignia of his royal rank. And his heart 
 beat high at the thought that his might be the voice which 
 would rouse the men of Erin to resist the invader. 
 
 Yet he was conscious of a sudden misgiving. From the 
 clustering foliage before him issued a dark-plumaged raven. 
 " It bringeth good fortune if it go with me," thought Ardal. 
 But the bird, instead. of flying in a straight course, darted 
 towards the left, and, seaiieg itself on a lofty branch, croaked 
 down at him. 
 
 "I am no coward, false bird," said Ardal aloud. But he 
 felt a strange sinking. The raven, spreading its dusky wings, 
 glided rapidly away in the direction jfrom which he had 
 come. 
 
 The words of Phelim now haunted him ; for a sword 
 had been oft unsheathed in his father's house. Ardal 
 despised superstition ; yet in yain reason told him that any 
 augury from the behaviour ©f a bird would be as much a 
 fable as the story of those sable-clad hags who pursued 
 Orestes. Yet was there some foundation for a curse in both 
 cases ; for the evil deeds of Ardal's father on his own kins- 
 men had been done in spite of sanctuary given by all the 
 bishops of Munster ; and the blood of his cousins, shed 
 with the help of Prince Malachy O'Paolain, was even yet 
 scarcely dry upon the ground. 
 
 " These are the sins for which we suffer," groaned Ardal to 
 himself; "yet why are they marked only against us? The 
 royal house with which we would fain match ourselves is not 
 stained with the bloodshedding of kindred ; yet hath it be- 
 come famous for the mutual haired betwixt father and son. 
 Though our swords have haen drawn against our own flesh, 
 they drip not so much with the blood of the innocent alien. 
 
812 THE BBIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 Yet feel I as if I were unworthy to help in protecting the ark 
 of our freedom.'' 
 
 " This is but a nightmare," he said at last, giving the reins 
 to his horse. And as he sped through the forest there came 
 back to him that vigour of mind which was so necessary for 
 the success of his mission. 
 
CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 There were months of waiting for the family of Ardmore. 
 Weary months they were, when the sound of the wind in the 
 leafless boughs sent tremors into many a heart ; when the 
 beams of the morning sun brought no gladness, and the whole 
 of nature wore a look as melancholy as that of an unfrozen 
 pond in the midst of snow. Few days passed without some 
 messenger coming to tell of fresh submissions, and rumours 
 were rife of these submissions having sometimes failed to 
 protect the helpless natives from rapine and massacre. 
 
 Then tidings arrived of the fall of Dublin, and of the 
 slaughter of many of its inhabitants. The English were, 
 however, scarcely as yet numerous enough to do more than 
 seize some of the chief towns in the eastern half of the 
 island. 
 
 And Ardal's efforts were by no means fruitless. He indeed 
 failed in persuading his brother Domnall, who had married a 
 daughter of King Dermod, to turn the arms which he had 
 disloyally taken up to attack the ard-righ Eoderick, against 
 the invader ; but he had succeeded in rousing MacCarthy of 
 Desmond to attempt the recapture of Waterford. The arrival 
 of King Henry, however, put an end to his most sanguine 
 hopes. 
 
 No sooner had the English monarch set foot on the banks 
 of the Suir than crowds of the newly-nominated prelates 
 flocked to do him homage. Every archbishop and bishop of 
 the Eomish persuasion bestowed on him a charter in the 
 
314 
 
 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEB. 
 
 form of a letter with seal attached, confirming the kingdom 
 of Ireland to him and to his heirs for ever.* Many chieftains 
 followed their example, some because they had been per- 
 suaded by the representations of their new spiritual advisers ; 
 others because they saw that resistance had become quite 
 hopeless. It was one thing to fight against Strongbow and 
 his formidable horde of freebooters ; it was quite another 
 to withstand a sovereign who held in his hand the might of 
 England, with that of half the empire of Charlemagne- 
 
 And Eoderick himself submitted. Only, however, as the 
 acknowledged sovereign of a country might in those days pay 
 nominal homage to a suzerain. He was allured by the hope 
 of being permitted to reign in peace over a people made more 
 loyal by the taste which they had had of foreign rule. Nor 
 was there aught but honour in yielding allegiance to the most 
 powerful monarch in Europe. 
 
 But all plans for the simultaneous prosperity of wolves and 
 lambs must prove unavailing. Henry, indeed, had come with 
 a professed desire to further the interests of religion and 
 morality ; but his barons, like himself, were more given to 
 hunting than to holiness. The simple truth was, that most 
 of those who had accompanied him to Ireland were landless ; 
 some of them being younger or illegitimate sons, and the 
 Saxon preserves being already well occupied by their fortu- 
 nate elders, they had crossed the , wases in quest of fresh 
 game. Excuses were soon forthcoming ior possessing them- 
 selves of Irish land, and those native chieftains who had 
 been most zealous in the service of the English were the first 
 to be despoiled. The Church lands offered a jnost tempting 
 prey. Safe as they had been since the days of Brian Borumha 
 from the ravages of war, they were the finest and best cul- 
 tivated soil in the island. And as the Pope had given to 
 these freebooters a wide commission for destroying all nur- 
 series of vice, they might well hope to benefit their own souls 
 * Appendix. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 315 
 
 whilst uprooting religious institutions so long famed for their 
 opposition to catholic doctrine and unity. 
 
 The twelve fathers of Ardmore had thus but a choice 
 between two evils. By sending in their submission to Chris- 
 tian of Lismore, they would lose two-thirds of their revenues, 
 and be reduced to the rank of vicars-choral, whilst the bishops 
 of the villages under their jurisdiction might be honoured with 
 the strange title of chor-episcopi. 
 
 Such a proceeding would, however, be violating the sacred 
 trust of antiquity. They felt as if the spirit of Declan might 
 revisit his shrine, to call down a curse on those who had so 
 far departed from his teachings. On the other hand, nought 
 was to be expected but ruin, desolation, and slaughter. Were 
 the stones of their beloved founder's church to be overturned ? 
 were the bodies of his spiritual children to lie bleeding in its 
 dust ? or were they to be saved by the sacrifice of his 
 doctrine ? 
 
 The good fathers were not long in deciding. 
 
 " The Almighty can raise other churches," said Maidoc. 
 " He can call forth other saints to wax valiant for the truth. 
 Had the martyrs of the Colosseum judged otherwise, where 
 would now be the faith which we hold ? These men were firm 
 against the assaults of paganism, say some, whereas we are 
 only asked to change one form of Christianity for another. But 
 I say that our adversaries have sucked up the very essence of 
 that paganism which they profess to abhor. For is not the 
 worship of the Virgin, are not the prayers for the dead, but 
 a continuation of the homage offered by a Themistocles at 
 the altar of Minerva, and of the libations poured by pious 
 Eoman and Athenian sons over the ashes of their parents, in 
 the fond hope of enhancing the welfare of their beloved ones in 
 the world of spirits ? Therefore, I say, let us resist, strong in 
 faith, and leave the issue to Him whose altar we serve. Let 
 those who fear greatly depart from amongst us. We will 
 remain to perish, if need be, with our wives and little ones, 
 
316 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 
 
 to guard at least the library of Declan until it can be de- 
 posited in worthy hands." 
 
 Maidoe but gave voice to the feelings of his brethren. 
 His scholars had now departed to their respective homes. 
 The place was, however, crowded with the wives and 
 families of village bishops, seeking shelter under the silver 
 bell of the saint. The routine of college life was broken up, 
 and men gave themselves with undivided hearts to prayer 
 and to the study of the Scriptures. 
 
 Sorcha and M6r resumed, somewhat of their old life, devot- 
 ing themselves with heasty zeal to their transcriptions, as well 
 as to the work of compounding medicines. They were now 
 sisters in affliction-; for whilst the husband of the one was 
 daily exposed to capture and the danger of an ignominious 
 death, the other winced under the shame of repudiation 
 — for though the abbot's letter to Fergus remained unan- 
 swered, all accounts from Waterford confirmed the fact that 
 the. latter was- officiating as. a priest of Eome. 
 
 " How is it, Sorcha," asked M6r, one day, as they sat 
 together bending over their faultlessly inscribed parchments — 
 " how is it that we have ever found room for jealousy here ? 
 My cheeks burn when. I think o£ it Well do I recollect how 
 mortified I once felt when my mother told me that thou 
 hadst finished off thy smaller capitals with these little golden 
 balls , and that thy page was more brilliant than mine, 
 though the first letter of our Lord's name extended down the 
 whole side of it ? " 
 
 " These ornaments seem to me almost vain," replied 
 Sorcha ; " though perchance they may make the holy books 
 a welcome gift to princes. Yet why should I speak slightly 
 of them? God hath clothed His other works with material 
 beauty ; and if our childhood loves the flowers but for their 
 colour, our riper age almost worships them because of the 
 wonderful secrets of their being." 
 
 "Yea," replied M6r; "yet in this time of trouble my 
 
THE BBIDES OP ABDMOBE. 817 
 
 hand would rather form the letters of these living words 
 than spend its strength in that ornament which suiteth 
 better with our hours of gladness." 
 
 It had "been a bitter grief to the abbot that he could not 
 receive his daughter under his roof. M6r shrank from Uailsi's 
 presence. They worshipped, indeed, in the same church ; 
 but, whilst the mother entered by a side door into the inner 
 sanctuary, the daughter occupied a place near the entrance 
 of the outer one. No persuasions could induce M6r to seat 
 herself beyond the separating arch. 
 
 " I love not to have such heart-wounds," she said. " For 
 when my father and I have wandered together at nightfall 
 round the rath, and my mother hath come forth with a letter 
 to meet him, she hath cast on me a glance as if she marked 
 me not. I have slipped from his side, and rushed into the 
 darkness to wish almost for death. Oh, Sorcha! I could 
 bear scorn from any one but her ! " 
 
 Sorcha could only look her pity. " Thou wouldst feel 
 even more," she replied, " were thy little Ere to wound thee 
 in like manner. He hath a soft medicinal touch, wilt thou 
 not try it?" 
 
 At length news came that a band of English plunderers, 
 commanded by a son of Strongbow, had marched out of 
 Waterford. Their faces were towards the south-west, and 
 their mules were getting loaded with the plunder of churches. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the dread thunder-cloud. The 
 abbot made haste to stow all the parchments on the shelves 
 of the Round Tower, and to fill its floors with sacks of meal. 
 He commanded that on the first alarm all women and 
 children should repair thither. 
 
 As he passed out of the church, after having given these 
 directions, he beheld the buxom figure of Cacht, her blooming 
 cheeks pale with fear. 
 
 " May I have a word with thee ?" she said, 
 
 " Speak, my daughter," replied the abbot. 
 
818 THE BRIDES OF AEDMORE. 
 
 "It liketh me not for Phelim," she stammered; "the 
 man will starve when the foe is upon us." 
 
 " True," replied the abbot. " Canst thou not devise some 
 means to save him from perishing ? He hath little wit to help 
 himself, and his life is precious in our sight. Thinkest thou 
 that he might be coaxed into dwelling with us in the tower ? " 
 
 " I doubt it," replied Cacht ; " but he knoweth nought of 
 the danger. Thy daughter hath penned him a letter which 
 he threw into the sea. And who is there that can reach 
 him ? " 
 
 " Wouldst thou venture down thyself? " asked the abbot. 
 
 " Yea, if I had thy approbation," replied the girl. 
 
 " Then speak with thy friends," said the abbot, "that they 
 may help thee to accomplish the task in safety. But make 
 haste, for there are but few steps betwixt us and danger." 
 
 Cacht returned to seek help in the cottage. She found 
 Amada locked in the arms of her daughter Grainne\ 
 
 " Olrud advised me to go to Inisfallen," said the matron ; 
 " but as my sons remain at Lismore, I would fain share 
 whatever fate maybe in store for thee and Sorcha. The 
 dames of our college like us not, and my being here will save 
 us from being anxious about each other." 
 
 Cacht told of her proposed expedition. 
 
 "If it were not that thou hast the abbot's sanction," said 
 Sorcha, " I would fain counsel thee against- it. For the 
 cliff is steep, and none would dare to be hung over it but 
 thyself." 
 
 Cacht's face fell. 
 
 " I marvel not at thy wish," said Grainne' ; " the man 
 is truly a strange being, yet hath Providence linked his fate 
 to thine in some manner. I will do my best to help thee. 
 But let not many know of it ; for there are some, perchance, 
 who would dislike his presence with us in one of yonder 
 strait chambers." 
 
 " Or who would say," suggested M6r, " that it were a dis- 
 
THE BBIDES OF ABDM0BE. 819 
 
 trusting of Providence to force sustenance on one who hath 
 been nourished like the beasts and the ravens. I doubt," 
 she whispered to Sorcha, " whether the man be more worth 
 saving than they; yet hath he an immortal soul, and the 
 blood of his curious body may be required at our hands." 
 
 The image of the hermit had, indeed, become more im- 
 pressed on Cacht's mind than she had ever permitted any 
 one to perceive. Through all the disfigurements which 
 neglect and ascetic practices had inflicted upon it, her keen 
 eye could still detect the form of the pale, well-shapen youth 
 in whose dark eyes she had for a passing moment read the 
 tale of his love for herself. There was something in him 
 which had captivated her fancy ; an appeal to her vanity, 
 perhaps, in having thus attracted the notice of one who was 
 her superior in education and in worldly position. It had 
 led her to withstand the persistent addresses of much worthier 
 men, amongst others of the stalwart smith, whose hammer 
 rang so incessantly on the forge just within the great gate. 
 Nor had she during all these years been without a hope that 
 some day, suitably clothed and in his right mind, he might 
 be drawn to forsake his cave, and spend his old age with her 
 in some pretty leaf-embowered cottage. 
 
 By the early morning light a group of dark-robed, white- 
 veiled women stood near the edge of the cliff which had been 
 pierced by some freak of nature into a rude shelter for the 
 outcast man. 
 
 Sorcha and Grainne held a large washerwoman's basket 
 in their hands. Placing it on the rocks they fastened to its 
 handles four twisted broom ropes. 
 
 "Doth thy heart misgive thee, Cacht ? " asked M6r. 
 " Look at the waves that leap into foam against the rough 
 stones beneath us. Wilt thou not rather that we fill this 
 basket with a good measure of barley ? " 
 
 " Nay, haste ye," replied Cacht, shuddering in spite of 
 herself. " I shall close my eyes as I go down." 
 
820 THE BKIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 Two men now came forward, having been engaged by 
 Sorcha to assist in lowering the basket. Cacht, being at 
 length seated on a goodly lining of straw, was heaved bodily 
 over the cliff. 
 
 The first lurch of her rude chariot, as she hung suspended 
 betwixt earth and sky, nearly made her repent of her pur- 
 pose. Her head was swimming, her heart throbbing as she 
 alighted at the entrance of the cave. 
 
 A growl from within revealed the presence of the hermit. 
 Cacht, supporting herself as best she could against the rocky 
 doorway, found that her eyes were becoming accustomed to 
 the scanty light, and the sights which it disclosed made her 
 flesh creep. Death's heads were everywhere staring at her 
 from their eyeless sockets, and grinning with their white 
 jaws. Grotesque forms of lizards and other loathsome ani- 
 mals lay upon the ground, amongst heaps of small bones 
 mingled with the half- burnt paws of black cats. The steam 
 which issued from the place was heavy with charcoal fumes, 
 and had a more decided odour of sulphur than of sanctity 
 in it. 
 
 The death's heads began to move. Cacht shrieked, lost 
 her footing, and fell backwards. But the hermit's strong 
 arm was thrown round her. Half insensible, she was pulled 
 back into the cave, and had time to collect her senses as she 
 crouched upon its slimy floor. Then she became aware that 
 a pair of fierce eyes were glaring at her. 
 
 " What doest thou here ?" asked a grating voice. " Dost 
 thou long to be dashed into these seething waters ? " 
 
 " I come to serve thee," replied Cacht, shuddering all 
 over. " I am bidden to tell thee that the foe is about to 
 compass us round, and that if thou wouldst fain have 
 sustenance, it can only be by joining thy fellows." 
 
 " Thinkest thou that I know it not ? " replied Phelim, 
 pointing with his bony claw to a small black caldron which 
 simmered over a few bright embers. Caoht, straining her 
 
TEE BBIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 821 
 
 eyes, perceived the shrivelled form of a scorched and 
 shrivelled animal suspended over it. Two greenish balla 
 starting out from what had been its face gave token that 
 Phelim had just performed the unholy rite of roasting a 
 living cat. 
 
 " Seest thou nothing?" shrieked the hermit, withdrawing 
 into the darkest corner of the cave. 
 
 " No," replied Cacht, making the sign of the cross. 
 
 Phelim took up a small pebble from the ground. He 
 threw it into the caldron. A sound of hissing and splutter- 
 ing followed. Cacht's face became as white as the bones 
 which hung around her ' r yet she felt as if she could dare all 
 the powers of hell could she but succeed in saving Phelim. 
 
 Then a blue smoke ascended to the roof. 
 
 "It cometh," exclaimed the hermit; "it leapeth on the 
 fire. Hear est thou nothing ? " 
 
 Cacht gazed in speechless horror. She had heard many 
 a tale of the Taigheirm, that rite by which her heathen 
 ancestors had been permitted to hold converse with the 
 spirits of darkness. To her excited imagination it seemed as 
 if the air were now filled with the howlings of the lately 
 tortured cats ; and the form of one, ferocious in mien and 
 unlike to anything earthly, now appeared above the fire, 
 
 "It is the ghost of Merlin," said Phelim. "I will tell 
 thee what he saith." 
 
 As the hermit spoke, his head and beard became alive with 
 flashes of pale fire. His words were distinctly heard. 
 
 " A light hath come into this island ; and all its birds shall 
 flock to see the splendour of it. Then shall the greater birds 
 be taken captive, and their wings shall be burned. No more 
 shall their haughty beaks peck each other. A strange king 
 cometh ; he bringeth peace, yea, peace. His peace shall be 
 so great that the pastures shall yield no cattle ; the fields, no 
 corn ; the air, no birds ; the seas, though full of fish, yet to 
 the sons of Erin yielding nothing. The curse of God shall 
 
 22 
 
S22 
 
 THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEB. 
 
 be on the green- valleyed land, and no home-born thing shall 
 thrive in it save the wolves and foxes." 
 
 "I have warned thee of thine own fate," said Cacht, 
 trembling violently. " For the love of Christ I beg thee 
 either to come with me or to let me depart." 
 
 " Come with thee ! " exclaimed Phelim, coming close to 
 her. " Nay, the devil hath lost his hold on me. I fear him' 
 not in the creeping darkness, for his ministers are my servants. 
 Thy feet bring no blessing with them. Thou art, as the holy 
 Chrysostom saith, but a mischief of nature overlaid with 
 glittering varnish. I counsel thee to be gene." 
 
 Cacht glanced at the fire. The caldron no longer steamed, 
 the, apparition had vanished ; but something smote her on 
 the arms with a violence which went through her whole 
 frame. It was like nothing she had ever before felt, and was 
 followed by a painful tingling. She fainted. 
 
 Cacht could never tell how she re-entered the basket ; nor 
 did she retain enough of self-possession to repeat more than 
 half of the strange things which she had witnessed in the 
 gloomy cavern. 
 
 "Leave Phelim to his fate," said Grrainne. "Thou hast 
 done what many a brave warrior dare not have attempted. 
 They who hold converse with the spirits of darkness should 
 look to them for help in trouble. As for the hermit's sanctity, 
 I never believed in it ; for hath not godliness promise of 
 this life in the first instance ? He would -have been as much 
 of a saint had he dwelt with thee as he -will ever be in a 
 whole graveyard of skulls." 
 
 Before cock-crowing next morning sfell the first thunderbolt 
 upon Ardmore. The silver bell pealed 'violently, and the 
 blast of a trumpet summoned all to betake themselves to the 
 Bound Tower. 
 
CHAPTEB XXXI. 
 
 It was a wild bleak November morning. Winter bad set in 
 early, with storms of such violence, that the sandhills of the 
 Welsh coast had been washed back into the sea, leaving bare 
 the blackened trunks of the old trees which they had covered 
 up in past ages. The great yew on Ardmore hill had been 
 uprooted by the wind; and the waves, thundering against 
 the cliffs by Declan's well, broke into the midnight slumbers 
 of the clerical community with their terrible music. Nature 
 seemed to partake of the violent spirit which swayed the mind 
 of man. 
 
 Amada's ascent into the tower was most painful to behold. 
 A rude ladder had been placed against the narrow entrance 
 •door, some thirteen feet from the ground. Supported by 
 Maidoc, who held her firmly by means of a sheet passed 
 round her waist, she dragged her aged limbs up the steep 
 ascent. She was followed by her daughter, with M6r, Sorcha, 
 and Cacht, their pale faces telling of anxious vigils. With 
 incredible toil she managed to reach an upper chamber, 
 where, worn and exhausted, she sank heavily down on one of 
 the corn- sacks which were piled on the floor. 
 
 " Thou wilt have less trouble here, mother," said Grainne, 
 " for in a lower chamber thou wouldst have been forced to 
 move whenever any one wished to pass thee. We shall also 
 have word sooner from those who keep a look-out above us.'' 
 
 " I shall mount as far as the bell," said Mar, " leaving my 
 little Ere with Grainne. Has my mother entered ? " 
 
324 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 " Yea," replied Cacht ; " I have seen her beneath." 
 
 " Even at this hour ! " exclaimed M6r, " will she give me 
 no token of forgiveness ? " 
 
 " I fear not," replied Grainne ; " but should she be near 
 me, I shall scruple not to show her thy child." 
 
 It was most touching to behold the crowd of pale faces in 
 that dark, narrow, circular chamber. The massive stone 
 walls were whitewashed in the interior, and supported some 
 ten feet from the ground a strong circular wooden shelf, 
 resting on corbels whose grotesque heads remain to the 
 present day. The scanty sunbeams which entered through 
 the narrow window revealed a strange confusion of meal-bags 
 and human forms ; piled up so as to bring the heads of the 
 latter to a level with the row of caskets and leathern bags 
 which, stored on the shelf, contained treasures dearer to some 
 of their possessors than life itself. A long ladder passed 
 through the midst, communicating with the chambers above 
 and below. 
 
 Mor stood beside the bell, peering anxiously through one of 
 ihe four large windows. A loud blast of trumpets was soon 
 heard; 
 
 " They come ! " she exclaimed, looking down the ladder 
 hole. " Men on horseback issue from the wood ; and the 
 foremost beareth the banner of St. George ! " 
 
 Amada and Sorcha bent their heads in silent prayer. 
 
 " They come still ! " exclaimed Mor. " They swarm ! A 
 bishop hath gone out to speak with them at the gate. 
 merciful Heaven ! " 
 
 "What is it?" asked Sorcha, terrified by her friend's 
 shriek. 
 
 " They have stabbed him,'' replied M6r ; "they hew him to 
 pieces. My father, and they that followed him, flee hither. 
 The wild men rush towards the church ; they break into 
 our houses. Oh, pray that my father may be able to 
 mount ! " 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOEE. 825 
 
 All held their breath in intense anxiety. Sorcha pressed 
 her child closely to her arms. 
 
 "He is safe now ! " cried Mor, at length ; " they have 
 drawn the ladder up. These thick walls are the only barrier 
 betwixt us and death." 
 
 " Nay ! " exclaimed Maidoc, who, with Ita, was in the act 
 of mounting from the chamber beneath. " He hath given his 
 angels charge concerning us. There be more that fight with 
 us than they that Tae against us." 
 
 " True," replied M6r, in a calmer voice. " But a smoke 
 ariseth from the cow-houses outside, the straw-ricks are on 
 fire ; the sheep, the swine rush wildly about ; their blood is 
 being shed like water." 
 
 " Thank God that it is not ours," said Ita. *' We have but 
 a short time to spend here ; let us try&o fix our thoughts on 
 our better inheritance." 
 
 Each minute, as it passed, brought a fresh report of de- 
 struction accomplished. The pretty rustic cottages were all 
 sacked ; their furniture, hallowed to the owners by many 
 precious memories, was dragged out to make bonfires for the 
 roasting of the slaughtered beasts. Ardmore was soon blazing ; 
 volumes of black smoke, mingled with shooting red sparks, 
 enveloped the tower on every side. Those within sat in total 
 darkness, illumined only by flashes of flame. They groaned 
 in the stifling heat. 
 
 Then the wind arose with violenee. Fiercer and fiercer 
 grew the flames, blacker and blanker rolled the smoke ; a 
 horrible crackling replied to the voice of the tempest. As 
 Mdr peered with blanched face on the dreadful scene, a sudden 
 gust drove away the smoke from the summit of the rath 
 beneath her, revealing the weird figure of Phelim, his shaggy 
 beard half burnt away. He shook his long, bony arm wildly 
 on perceiving Mor. 
 
 " Spake I not truly," he shrieked. " Woe to Erin ! she 
 hath broken the covenant of her God; she hath left the 
 
326 THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 faith of Patrick. • Her portion be with the guides she hath 
 chosen. They make the path bright whereon they essay to 
 lead her ; yea, bright." 
 
 So saying, he leapt from the summit of the rath down into 
 the roaring flame. 
 
 M6r sank shuddering on the ground. "I can gaze no 
 longer," she murmured. " I would fain go down to abide the 
 event in darkness-." 
 
 Amada had now dropped asleep. She looked as peaceful 
 as little Bossa himself in his mother's arms. At length 
 some wild howls- intimated that the soldiers were bent on 
 attacking the tower. Then- a terrible thud shook the build- 
 ing to its foundations. 
 
 " They have brought a battering ram," said Ita, who had 
 mounted to the summit, 
 
 A shower of arrows now struck against the wall ; they 
 failed, however, to reach the watchers at the high window. 
 Amada still slept. 
 
 " Try smoke," said ai hoarse voice. It was answered by a 
 succession of wolf-like howl's. Savage men rushed over the 
 blackened turf, bringing boughs, bedding, and everything 
 inflammable on whieh they could lay their hands. 
 
 " This is horrible," exclaimed Maidoc. " Let me mount to 
 the bell-chamber. I will adjure them in the name of Christ. 
 We men might offer ourselves as prisoners of war, on condi- 
 tion that the women go free." 
 
 " Thinkest thou that they would keep faith?" replied the 
 abbot. " These men are drunken. This good tower hath 
 survived the fury of the Danes; and if it but stand till 
 morning, the worst of that crew will be asleep. I may then 
 venture forth and try to parley with the leaders." 
 
 The sun had long since set. The smoke had subsided, 
 leaving the walls of the roofless church looming ghost-like 
 above a mass of glowing ashes. Neither moon nor stars 
 were visible. 
 
THE BBIBES OF AKDMOKE. 827 
 
 But all was darkness to the terrified company in the tower. 
 To the pangs of fear were now added those of hunger. There 
 was no space for cooking, and the provision of bread could 
 not be reached for the heaped-up sacks. Many began to 
 consume handfuls of corn. 
 
 A black vapour now penetrated through the narrow win- 
 dows. It woke Amada ; she seized her daughter's arm. 
 
 " "What is it ?" she gasped, faintly. 
 
 " They are trying to suffocate us," replied Grainne, trem- 
 bling. " Let me place an arm round thee, and trust in Him 
 who was with the three children in the furnace." 
 
 " Help me up," said Amada. 
 
 Grainne did so ; but her mother withdrew from the gentle 
 support she offered. Grainne was surprised to notice how 
 the colour was returning to the aged face, and how the eyes 
 were sparkling with a touch of their old gaiety. 
 
 Then Amada looked up. Her lips opened, and from her 
 aged lips issued a quavering sound like the first accents of 
 the Te Deum. 
 
 Two young bishops who were standing near comprehended 
 what she meant. One sonorous voice after another took up 
 the triumphal hymn bequeated by Ambrose to the Church 
 Catholic. 
 
 Something now made the drunken assailants slacken their 
 efforts ; more than one face amongst them turned white. 
 One by one they shrank back, disappearing into the darkness. 
 Soon, nought but a smell of burning and a few wreaths of 
 thin smoke remained to tell of the attempt which they had 
 made. 
 
 De Clare, the English captain, was roused from his sleep. 
 He had, like his father, a tall and stately form, a ruddy and 
 somewhat feminine face. 
 
 He summoned his chief lieutenant, a young man named 
 Myles Fitz-David, son of the Eoman Catholic Bishop of St. 
 David's. 
 
328 THE BBIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 ■ " Is there a breach in the wall ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," replied Fitz-David, crossing himself. " There 
 hath been a miracle." 
 
 " A miracle, thou fool ! " exclaimed the son of Strongbow, 
 with an angry gesture. 
 
 " Yea," persisted his lieutenant, doggedly. " The yeoman 
 Cedric proposed to smoke the unbelievers out." 
 
 " He hath a spark of sense," replied De Clare. "Me- 
 thinks the work should be done by this time. Thinkest thou 
 that we shall take them breathing ?" 
 
 " Nay, but thou must hear," said Fitz-Dayid, " that when 
 the fires were kindled, and the smoke was rising in black 
 clouds, a choir of angels burst out singing in the sky ; the 
 holy Virgin came down to protect those whom she would 
 gather into the true fold." 
 
 "Thou shouldst have stayed by thy paternal altar," said 
 the young chief, in a scornful, though musical voice. " Thy 
 sword will be ever blunted by such mild fancies. .But I 
 must see to this." 
 
 Stepping forth he shook one sleeper after another. 
 
 " Besotted fools ! " he exclaimed ; " they would need my 
 father's hand to rule them." 
 
 But all who had been engaged in the conflict shrank from 
 renewing it. " The Virgin," they said, " had visibly inter- 
 posed. They had distinctly seen her form, -sitting crowned 
 with stars on a white cloud above the tower." The young 
 captain, therefore, saw himself obliged to relinquish all 
 active measures until a few sober hours should dissipate the 
 spell which had paralysed the energies of his troops. 
 
 To the weary, haggard prisoners in the tower this delay 
 brought little comfort. They could not interpret the silence 
 which now reigned around them. 
 
 " Why tarry the wheels of His chariot ? " asked Amada. 
 
 " The foe contriveth something more effeotual," responded 
 Maidoc. " We witness the lull before the hurricane." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ABDMOBE. 329 
 
 Some of the younger men employed this time of respite in 
 discovering and distributing a small store of bread. Amada 
 was with difficulty persuaded to partake of it. 
 
 " Methinks," she said, " that my one foot is already in 
 heaven. What need to seek after what will keep me longer 
 out of it." 
 
 " Eemember that thy body is the Lord's," replied Maidoc ; 
 " it is His workmanship. Thou wert wont to cherish those 
 bright pages which Sorcha transcribed for the sake of her 
 whose hand had wrought on them, no less than for their own 
 beauty ; and wilt thou feel less kindly towards a creation of 
 the Almighty Artist ? " 
 
 " For my part," said M6r, " I find it most strange to look 
 at my hands with the consciousness that they will soon be 
 but a mass of useless clay. Where should I now be but for 
 the hope of immortality ? '' 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied Maidoc ; " let us, then, give thanks 
 over our last meal, as over the emblems of our Lord's 
 death. Soon, very soon, shall we drink the new wine in His 
 kingdom." 
 
 There were two of the company, however, who had other 
 thoughts mingling with this ecstatic expectation. M6r felt 
 herself scarcely ready. It seemed to her most sad, most 
 unnatural, to wait for an entrance into glory whilst estranged 
 from her beloved mother. Yet how could she attempt to 
 speak words of reconciliation ? How expose herself to the 
 pain of a repulse amongst such a crowd of witnesses ? Yet 
 the voice of conscience commanded it. She planted her 
 foot on the ladder with the intention of descending, but 
 exhausted nature gave way ; fear and hunger and weak- 
 ness were proving too much for her. Sinking down on 
 a sack, she covered her face and wept bitterly. 
 
 Sorcha, too, felt that she could not depart in peace. Not 
 for her own fate did she grieve. She had tasted a cup 
 of earthly happiness, full, overflowing. If Ardal's strong 
 
830 
 
 THE BRIDES OP ARDMOBE. 
 
 arm had been around her at that moment, she would have 
 welcomed 'the last enemy. But a sword seemed to pierce her 
 as she thought what his grief would be. Alas ! no bird of 
 the air would ever tell him how she had died. 
 
 The abbot, meanwhile, had exposed himself in the narrow 
 doorway, and had contrived to parley with young Fitz- 
 David. 
 
 "We would beg of thy charity," he said, "that thou 
 wouldest tell us thy leader's terms of surrender. We have a 
 firm trust that he will not stain the escutcheon of his house 
 by breaking his plighted word. We have here twoscore of 
 helpless women. I would fain commend them to thy honour 
 as a knight." 
 
 " Is there aught else which thou holdest dear ? " asked the 
 bishop's son, somewhat scornfully. " We have found few of 
 what are called the treasures of Declan." 
 
 "The gold and silver cups are here," replied the abbot; 
 " also the rich bindings of many books. But for what is be- 
 twixt these bindings we would fain have thy captain's oath to 
 bestow them on some learned university. There are copies 
 of Greek poets which at Oxford would be weighed against 
 gold. We have a few of Menander's plays, besides most of 
 the works of Tacitus." 
 
 "Is that all?" exclaimed Fitz-David, contemptuously. 
 
 The abbot's hollow cheek flushed. " Nay, we have more," 
 he cried ; " we have two hundred copies of that living Word 
 which was never conceived by mortal man. A draught of 
 the pure waters which flow from it might moderate thy thirst 
 for gold." 
 
 The young man turned aside to hold conference with his 
 captain. In a few minutes the latter stood beneath the door. 
 His doing so was an unconscious expression of confidence 
 in the loyalty of the Irish bishops whom he was persecuting, 
 for he presented a fair mark for an arrow. Yet was his 
 womanish face disfigured by a most hateful expression. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDM0RE. 331 
 
 Scorn, malice, bloodthirstiness, were all strongly marked 
 on it. 
 
 " Ye ask for my terms," he said, in a voice whose natu- 
 rally soft tones seemed ill-fitted to carry such words. 
 " Know, then, that I summon you, in the name of our most 
 gracious lord, King Henry, to surrender this tower." 
 
 " We stand ready to do so," replied the abbot, " on thy 
 simple promise of a safe conduct for the women and children ; 
 also, that thou wilt spare our parchments." 
 
 " Of these I reck not," replied De Clare. " Yes, I may 
 grant thy prayer. Know, however, that there are two whom 
 I must exclude from it. No safe conduct will be granted to 
 the wife of the arch rebel, Ardal O'Brien, nor the kin of a 
 certain Olrud MacCarthy, who are branded as traitors, 
 having stirred up his Highness's loyal subjects to dis- 
 affection." 
 
 A thrill of horror ran through every Irish heart. All felt 
 that they would rather die than accept of a pardon from 
 which the lovely and gifted daughter of Mael-Patrick should 
 be excluded. The abbot withdrew from the doorway. 
 
 " Think not of us," said Grainne ; " neither Sorcha nor 
 I count our lives dear. We have already in spirit surren- 
 dered them through every minute of this night. Why, then, 
 make their preservation for a few hours an obstacle to the 
 safety of thy whole family ? " 
 
 " It were unmanly of us to do otherwise," replied the 
 abbot. " Our own lives would be degraded and worthless if 
 ransomed at such a price. Hast thou looked on the coun- 
 tenance of yonder captain, Sorcha ? " 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied the young matron, shuddering. 
 " Yet methinks it were base in us to shrink from the cruel 
 death which he perchance prepareth, when the lives of so 
 many friends will be so uselessly sacrificed. Had I the 
 least warrant in God's Word for doing so, I would end the 
 matter by throwing myself from the summit of the tower." 
 
832 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 " I will speak again with the cruel man," replied the 
 abbot; "it may be that when he seeth we are resolved to 
 protect thee, he may shrink from the sin of causing so many 
 to perish." 
 
 But as he placed to his lips the small horn which he had 
 used as the signal of conference, the shrill notes ; of ,a trumpet 
 spoke of a fresh arrival. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 All turned their eyes towards the forest. Few minutes 
 passed ere several figures on horseback emerged from it. 
 They drew up in front of the ruined arch which had spanned 
 the gateway of iihe rath. 
 
 One of them 1 was enveloped in a purple cloak. The Earl'tf 
 son, advancing to meet hiin, knelt humbly on the ground. 
 The Danish Bishop of Waterford, for he it was, stretched 
 forth his arm. 
 
 "God bless thee, my Son," he said; "is thy work com- 
 plete ? Where be thy prisoners ? " 
 
 " We have them in plenty," replied the young captain, 
 rising and holding the prelate's bridle; "but the abbot and 
 the dwellers in this place are shut up in yonder tower." 
 
 "Have they fought with thee?" asked Tostius, dis- 
 mounting. 
 
 " No, reverend father," replied De Clare; "yet have we 
 failed to make them surrender. These drunken idiots, my 
 troopers, declare that they have seen the saints protecting 
 them."' 
 
 The prelate smiled. " I rejoice if there has been no blood 
 shed," he remarked " The Church is merciful, even when 
 most just. Canst thou speak with those in the tower ? " 
 
 " Yea," replied the chieftain. " We may approach them 
 without fear. They are willing to surrender the treasures 
 of Declan, which I fear may prove of baser metal than we 
 recked of. Bat they are solicitous about some mouldering 
 
834 THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE. 
 
 parchments, fit only to light camp fires with. Also they 
 hesitate because I expressly excluded from my safe conduct 
 any women claiming kin with Ardal O'Brien and Olrud 
 MacCarthy." 
 
 A cloud gathered over Tostius' face. " Is it much to thee 
 that they yield about these women ? " he asked. 
 
 " Nay, verily," replied the captain, shrugging his shoulders. 
 " But the tale of our vengeance will be worth something. 
 These arch traitors must be made to suffer. Their move- 
 ments have given my father many a sleepless night." - 
 
 " Yet have they wrought thee good," said the prelate ; 
 "for without the sedition which they foment thou wouldst 
 lack wit to lay thy hands on many a spoil. I have, however, 
 a particular interest in what befalls Ardal O'Brien's wife. 
 Thou must grant me this favour, and let her fate be in my 
 hands." 
 
 " Willingly," replied De Clare. " Thou mayst have them 
 both, an thou list; Shall we announce this ? My arm aches 
 with this unwonted idleness." 
 
 Fitz-David, approaching the tower, now blew a few soft 
 notes on a trumpet. The heads of the abbot and Maidoc 
 appeared in the narrow doorway. 
 
 " We give you greeting," said the young soldier, " from 
 our most reverend father, the Bishop of Waterford. He 
 summoneth you to yield in the name of our Holy Mother 
 Church. He is grieved that your lives have been imperilled, 
 and he promises to every one of you, both men and women, 
 a safe conduct from this place. Only the wives of Ardal 
 O'Brien and of Olrud MacCarthy must remain his own 
 prisoners. He biddeth me say, however, that he meaneth 
 this in nought but friendship ; and that he is willing to 
 pledge his word that not a hair of their heads shall be 
 hurt." 
 
 The voice was most distinct. Its acoents penetrated through 
 every window and corner of the narrow, round fortress. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 335 
 
 " God be thanked ! " exclaimed M6r, throwing herself on 
 Grainne's breast. " Surely He hath sent His own angel to 
 let us out of this prison-house." 
 
 The abbot and Maidoo, having closed the door, now 
 ascended to consult with the two women whose welfare was 
 most at stake. 
 
 " I fear not to trust myself to Bishop Tostius," said 
 Sorcha. " He hath eaten of our bread ; he can surely mean 
 us no ill." 
 
 " Thou dost not consider," said Ita, "whether or not it be 
 possible for a Eoman priest to betray his trust. Did not 
 some of our bishops own the Pope's supremacy at Bathbre- 
 sail ? and hath he not used their compliance to hand this 
 island over to the foreigner ? " 
 
 " It is you women who are most concerned," said the 
 abbot; "so we will abide by your decision. Were ye not 
 here, I should prefer to fight and die, or else suffer the worst 
 they could inflict." 
 
 " Oh, yield, yield ! " sighed Uailsi. 
 " What sayest thou, Sorcha ? " asked the abbot. 
 " Had we been warriors," replied Sorcha, " I should have 
 said nay. But something in Bishop Tostius' face reassures 
 me. And I cannot forget that my husband thought well of 
 him. We know that resistance is hopeless. I am willing to 
 become his prisoner." 
 
 " And I say the same," said Grainnd. 
 Half an hour later the little door was opened. One by one 
 the sad company walked down the steep ladder. The chill 
 wind pinched their blue lips, but it was nothing to the cold 
 despair that had taken possession of their souls. Their 
 glorious and beautiful home was almost laid level with the 
 dust. The double church still remained, but it looked like 
 the ghost of its former self; its roof would never be rebuilt 
 for the celebration of the old simple worship. The rath 
 was half demolished, but Declan's little stone cell remained 
 
S36 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 untouched Heaps of charred wood marked the site of the 
 college buildings, and of the pretty leaf- embowered cottages. 
 The devastation was more complete than Danish pirates 
 could have made it. The glory of Ardmore was for ever gone. 
 
 " Whither shall we go 1 " cried Uailsi,- wringing her 
 hands. 
 
 " Let us seek a home in the wilderness," replied her 
 husband, " or on one of the lonely islands of our western 
 coast. There we may live by the good-will of the rude 
 inhabitants." 
 
 " Nay," exclaimed Uailsi ; " I will seek an entrance into 
 Kildare. There my birth entitles me to a home." 
 
 The abbot looked at her sternly. " Thou biddest me a 
 lifelong farewell," he said. 
 
 " I have no other choice," replied Uailsi. " Thou canst 
 not expect that I should live by the work of my hands ; yet 
 what else hast thou to offer me ? Moreover," she continued, 
 in a softer voice, " I deem myself bound to make a sacrifice 
 for thee. Thou hast reputation enough to gain admittance 
 into the monasteries of Eatisbon or St. Gallen, where I should 
 be an encumbrance to thee." 
 
 " So be it, then," said the abbot, sighing. " I deny not 
 that thy absence would be better for me. But what of 
 M6r ? Wilt thou not take her with tbee ? " 
 
 Uailsi's pale cheek flushed "Nay," Bhe exclaimed, angrily. 
 ' ' She is doubly dishonoured ; she can expect to share in 
 none of the privileges of the Ua-Breasail." 
 
 " Then I ask them not for her," said the abbot ; " but 
 thou wilt never see her again on this side of the grave. It 
 would be a sweeter memory" for thee to carry about, wert 
 thou to give her but one kind look." 
 
 " Urge me no further," replied UailsL " The Ua-Breasail 
 have ever been men and women of their word." 
 
 The abbot turned hastily away. For the first time in his 
 life he forbore to stifle a regret that he had ever won her. 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOEE. 337 
 
 Bishop Tostius had in the meantime advanced towards 
 Soreha and M6r, who stood under the shelter of the church 
 wall, holding their infants in the folds of their thick 
 mantles. 
 
 " My daughters," he said, kindly, " you have been the 
 guardian angels of this community. It was the thought of 
 what might befall you that quickened my steps hither." 
 
 " We shall be grateful for thy counsel," replied Soreha. 
 " M6r hath told me of thy goodness to her at Waterford." 
 
 The prelate gazed at M6r's pale face. " Why didst thou 
 not seek my help ? " he asked, taking her hand. 
 
 " Because," replied M6r, fixing her clear eyes on him, " I 
 was unwilling to leave my husband while he would have me. 
 Fergus made a jest of his Boman ordination." 
 
 "A jest!" exclaimed the prelate, frowning. "His mirth 
 hath been the other way when in the house of my friends. 
 Far better would it have been to have sought shelter with me 
 ere thou hadst witnessed this. Thou canst think no more of 
 Fergus without committing deadly sin." 
 
 " Whither may I look for shelter ? " exclaimed Mor. " My 
 mother and my husband alike disown me." 
 
 " I will send you both to my sister, the Abbess of Kilche- 
 chan," replied Tostius. "You shall have a safe escort 
 thither. Nothing else remains for you." 
 
 "I would ask of thy charity,'' said Soreha, "that thou 
 wouldst permit my grandmother and my mother's sister to 
 accompany us. The one is very aged, and hath but few 
 years to spend on earth ; the other is in deadly peril, being 
 the wife of Olrud MacCarthy, to whom we are assured that no 
 quarter will be given." 
 
 " For thy grandmother thy petition is most fitting," replied 
 the prelate ; " but in regard to MacCarthy's wife " 
 
 " Say me not nay !" cried Soreha, seizing his arm convul- 
 sively. Her eyes were irresistible in their eager entreaty. 
 
 " It shall be as thou listest," replied Tostius, in a softer 
 
 23 
 
838 
 
 THE BRIDES OP AKDMOKE. 
 
 voice. "But I stretch my influence with these rude men to 
 accomplish this." 
 
 " I have yet another favour," pleaded Sorcha. " Wilt thou 
 not devise some means for me to communicate with Ardal ? 
 I am loth to enter within the convent walls without his 
 knowledge." 
 
 The prelate's frown grew darker. He looked at Sorcha 
 . inquiringly. 
 
 " Canst thou submit to renounce him ? " he asked. 
 Sorcha's cheek flushed. " Never ! " she exclaimed, passion- 
 ately, " whilst we are both above ground. I yield to no 
 human will if opposed to his.'' 
 
 " Alas, my child ! " said Tostius, laying his hand on her 
 head ; " vows of obedience are not binding when he to whom 
 thou hast made them is forsworn. Be warned by what has 
 befallen thy friend. Ardal will be only too glad to forsake 
 thee. He hath transgressed a sacred canon in wedding thee. 
 He, too, is an ordained priest." 
 
 M6r gave a sudden scream. Sorcha became very pale. 
 " He may be so," she replied, bravely ; " but he took no 
 vow of celibacy." 
 
 " It is unusual for priests to do so formally at their conse- 
 cration," replied the prelate. " The deacon's orders which 
 they have already taken imply their submission in this respect. 
 Thy husband's conscience must tell him that he is forsworn. 
 He bowed to the authority of our Holy Church when she re- 
 ceived him into her bosom. But the tale seemeth not strange 
 to thee. Didst thou know this before thou didst wed him ? " 
 "Yea," replied Sorcha, the tears gathering in her eyes. 
 " It was an act that Ardal hath bitterly regretted. He hath 
 never held himself bound by it. He accepted consecration 
 only on the distinct understanding that he was to be left free 
 to obey the canons of the Church founded by Patrick. I 
 understand that the royal Archbishop Henry gave him some 
 dispensation to that effect." 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMOBE. 839 
 
 " The Church accepts no half-homage," replied Tostius. 
 " Ardal must have been fully aware that he was deceiving 
 thee." 
 
 Sorcha's eyes flashed. " Nay," she exclaimed, " it is he 
 who hath been betrayed. Axdal is incapable of practising on 
 the innocence of a weak maiden." 
 
 The prelate shook his head. " Thou art too noble to 
 speak otherwise," he replied. " Yet will I do what thou 
 desirest. I will undertake to have a letter conveyed to him. 
 In the meantime thou hadst better go to Kilcheechan. Ardal's 
 hands are too full, from what I hear, to provide for thy 
 safety." 
 
 A piercing shriek now issued from the tower. Grainne 
 appeared in the narrow doorway with pain and terror written 
 on her beautiful face. Her cheeks were bloodless, her hair 
 dishevelled, her large brown eyes dilated, 
 
 "Oh, my mother ! " she exclaimed, in a voice of heartrend- 
 ing grief. 
 
 "What is it?" gasped Sorcha, trembling violently. "1 
 thought thou hadst remained there to faring her gently 
 down." 
 
 " So I did," replied Grainne\ half frantically. " Come, 
 look ! " 
 
 Sorcha bounded up the steep ladder, followed by Tostius, 
 Mor, Maidoc, and Ita. She paused not an instant for 
 breath, but continued mounting, preceded by Grainne, with 
 almost superhuman agility. They paused on reaching the 
 third chamber. There lay the lifeless form of Amada, 
 weltering in blood ; the fair locks half veiling her placid 
 features. 
 
 Sorcha turned giddy, and leaned heavily on the prelate for 
 support. 
 
 ""Who hath wrought this vile deed?" asked Bishop 
 Tostius. 
 
 " The English soldiers," replied Grainne. " They were 
 
340 THE BEIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 rushing up the ladder as we came slowly down. They 
 ordered us with dreadful oaths to remount, in order that they 
 might not be detained. My mother was unable to move 
 without the greatest difficulty. I tried to quicken her steps, 
 when one of the soldiers knocked her down ; she fell in 
 a senseless heap on the floor. I shrieked with grief and 
 indignation. Then both soldiers, laughing coarsely, drew 
 their daggers and stabbed her to the heart." 
 
 " I will have them punished," said the prelate. " Canst 
 thou raise her with me?" 
 
 Grainn^'s arms were full, she having taken little Bossa 
 from his mother. Tostius and Sorcha, therefore, lifted the 
 poor body reverently, and conveyed it downwards with much 
 difficulty. 
 
 But Amada's spirit had for ever left that scene of woe. 
 The vindictive steel which had pierced her heart had perhaps 
 been directed by angelic hands to open up for her an 
 entrance into the glory she had so much longed after. 
 
 They laid her gently on the scorched and trampled grass. 
 Sorrowing faces bent over her ; but yet on some was the 
 yearning look of those who would have wished to share her 
 fate. 
 
 " Desire thy chief to speak with me," said the prelate, 
 turning to young Fitz-David. " I would have him behold 
 how his plighted word to me hath been kept.' - 
 
 A few minutes later and the Earl's son stood beside them. 
 His brow grew dark as he beheld the blood-stained figure on 
 the ground. 
 
 " Seest thou this?" said Tostius. "This aged woman 
 was within my sanctuary, from which she hath, in spirit, 
 been dragged and slain. The majesty of our Holy Church 
 hath been insulted in her person. "What offering will ye 
 make to atone for this ? " 
 
 " The blood of the slayer," answered De Clare, promptly. 
 " Let him be put to death at her feet." 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOKE. 341 
 
 " Nay," exclaimed Grainne ; " if it be thy Church which 
 calls for satisfaction, she would surely have more glory in the 
 man's life ; and such honour to my mother's memory we 
 value not. There is only one poor boon that we crave, and 
 that is to be allowed to bury her within Ardmore church, 
 offering over her remains the service of thanksgiving which 
 her spirit would not willingly lack." 
 
 " Thanksgiving ! " exclaimed Toetius. " Thou canst surely 
 make this no matter for rejoicing. Methinks that thou 
 speakest of something like a mass for the repose of her 
 soul." 
 
 " The peace on her face might tell thee that she needeth it 
 not," replied Grainne. " But it is with purpose that I speak 
 of rejoicing. For is not this her birthday, the fairest hour 
 in which she hath looked upon God's universe ? Mistake me 
 not. Our faces are not darkened with grief because of her 
 departure ; but we mourn the rather that any human soul 
 could be so destitute of all .that makes life precious as to 
 stain itself with her blood There was surely something in 
 my mother which might have protected her from such a cruel 
 assault.'' 
 
 Grainne looked touchingly beautiful in this triumph over 
 her sorrow. The prelate could not but feel that there was 
 here a power of faith which he could not measure. 
 
 " Thy wishes shall be fulfilled to the letter," he said. 
 " Your funeral customs differ widely from ours, yet will we 
 give you leisure to .conform to them." 
 
 Amada's body was therefore borne into Declan's cell, that 
 being the only plaee which could now afford it shelter. It 
 was covered, not with the customary flowers, but with a few 
 pine branches brought from the forest. Her friends, however, 
 resolved to curtail the period of her wake from three nights to 
 one, the earl's son, as well as Tostius, having announced his 
 intention of departing on the morrow. The prelate pro- 
 posed returning to Waterford, whilst the English soldiers 
 
«M2f THE BRIDES OF ABDMORE. 
 
 were already discussing which ecclesiastical settlement 
 might offer the best chance of more booty. 
 
 It was a night never to be forgotten. The wind blew with 
 boisterous, fury, howling round the walls of the dismantled 
 church, and making the poor houseless ones cower against 
 the roofless walls for shelter. Some there were who started 
 at once on their painful journey to distant regions ; whilst 
 others betook themselves to the beach, dragging up some light 
 fishing-boats to serve as a protection until the wind should 
 become moderate enough to allow of their setting sail for the 
 shores of Kerry. 
 
 Amada's personal friends were crowded into Declan's cell. 
 A few slept ; but most of them joined in raising the ceaseless 
 psalm, or in echoing the prayers which the abbot and Maidoc 
 offered up by turns. The sweet tones of Sorcha's harp sounded 
 strange amidst so much trouble. 
 
 Yet these pale mourners were trying to turn their thoughts 
 away from themselves. As they beheld each other's faces in 
 the flickering torch-light, they could scarcely prevent anxiety 
 for their own distress mingling with the grateful consideration 
 which they were striving to bestow on the character and past 
 life of the departed one. 
 
 " If thy mother hath less honour," remarked the abbot to 
 Grainne, " in having so short a wake ; if the fine linen and 
 flowers be lacking, she is yet embalmed in much tender love. 
 There are few indeed for whom we could pause to make 
 melody amidst so much personal affliction." 
 
 " I feel it deeply," replied Grainne^ " But methinks there 
 is a brother who ought to have lain beside her : I speak of 
 him who was slaughtered in the gateway." 
 
 " We sought for him," replied the abbot, " but the fire hath 
 destroyed even the traces of his ashes. Yet methinks it 
 were well to make mention of him and of Phelim in our 
 song." 
 
 With the first streak of daylight all issued out of the cell. 
 
THE BBIDES OF AKDMORE. 343 
 
 Tliey bore Amada's body, and laid it beneath the church floor, 
 beside the remains of the saint whose name will for ever cling 
 to Ardmore. 
 
 Then many gave way to bitter grief. There was no tone 
 from the silver bell to summon them to the rude repast which 
 they felt was the last they should all share together. Uailsi 
 had departed during the night, having been furnished by 
 Tostius with a fitting escort to Lismore, where she hoped to 
 find some of her kindred. 
 
 Most affecting was Sorcha's farewell to Maidoc and Ita. 
 
 " We are all wrecks of our former selves," said the latter, 
 drawing her dark mantle round her shivering frame ; " yet 
 is the wrath of our God not unmixed with mercy. We have 
 a firm trust that thou and M6r will find fitting shelter, and it 
 is little we ourselves want. We go to the Scattery Islands. 
 The kind pity of our fellow-countrymen will provide a crust 
 by the way." 
 
 " And meseems," said Maidoc, " that our heavier griefs 
 have eaten up our lesser ones. Had it been foretold that I 
 should see this desolation — Erin trampled beneath the feet of 
 the alien, Declan's college consumed by the flame, the candle 
 of my beloved Ardmore removed out of its place — should not I 
 have gone wild with grief? Yet the pain of it is deadened 
 by my parting with thee." 
 
 " We shall meet again," said Sorcha, pressing his hand 
 warmly. " What of thy beloved parchments ? " 
 
 " Alas ! " said Maidoc, " my eyes have not witnessed how 
 roughly they have been handled. The abbot teUs me, how- 
 ever, that they are loaded in sacks on the backs of mules, but 
 with little regard to their relative worth ; that he had picked 
 up most valuable leaves of Tacitus which had been dropped 
 out of the loosely-tied bundles." 
 
 " That is grievous," said Sorcha ; " yet have I often 
 marvelled to think, were the whole literary treasures here and 
 at Lismore destroyed, the world would not miss them so 
 
344 THE BKIDES OP ABDMOKE. 
 
 much as it would the writing on the small parchment that I 
 carry about with me." 
 
 " Nay, verily," replied Maidoc. " It hath supplied the first 
 spark which made the glory and power of this place. Other 
 beacons shall be kindled from it, which will perchance give a 
 steadier light : it shall be in His own good time. But fare 
 thee well, my child, mayst thou have a speedy meeting with 
 thy husband ! " 
 
 Nor was the parting between M6r and her father less 
 melancholy. " Would that thou couldst have gone with 
 me ! " said the latter. " I know that a safe shelter awaiteth 
 me ; for within the walls of Ratisbon dwell brethren who will 
 honour the Culdee Abbot. But they are celibates, and they 
 have exchanged the rule of their Scottish founder for that of 
 Benedict. I shall miss no intellectual pleasure, but some of 
 the deeper needs of my heart must remain unsatisfied." 
 
 " Thou hast the Saviour," suggested M6r. 
 
 " True," replied the father ; "yet the effulgence of His love 
 hath never excluded the sweet flicker of those lights which He 
 hath given to cheer our earthly pilgrimage. Every true spark 
 of love hath been originally kindled at His altar, and my 
 crushing anxiety is, that I leave thee with no protector. I 
 would remain, could I but see how to benefit thee by doing 
 so." 
 
 M6r raised her tear-filled eyes. " Thou canst not help me," 
 she said. " The shelter which Providence offers to each of us 
 would be forfeited by our remaining together. Bishop Tostius 
 hath a kind heart, and will let me stay beside his sister until 
 peace return to Erin ; then hath Sorcha promised that I 
 may dwell with her. Thy blessing, father, will make me 
 strong to bear patiently." 
 
 The abbot's lip quivered. In broken accents he com- 
 mended his daughter and her son to the care of the everlasting 
 Father. Then, sinking down on the blackened stump of 
 the yew-tree, he covered his face with his hands. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXIII. 
 
 Four months had passed since the night of Amada's burial. 
 The bright spring sun had begun to pencil the hills and 
 valleys of Ireland with fresh tints of green, and to weave into 
 a robe of beauty the desolations of a stormy winter. And 
 of all the spots which felt his magic touch, none responded 
 to them more readily than did the softly-wooded banks of 
 the river Suir. 
 
 They enclosed a broad, rushing stream of crystal water, 
 undiminished as yet in volume by the clearance of forests 
 from the hills that cradled it, untainted by aught more hurtful 
 than the resin of the light keels that ploughed its sparkling 
 surface. 
 
 And of all the picturesque groups of dwellings that clung 
 to its shores, the most stately and beautiful was certainly the 
 town of Waterford, or Port Lairge. 
 
 It was, in truth, the door of Ireland. Founded by the Danes 
 in the seventh century, its wonderful position had attracted to 
 it all the commerce which then passed across the Verginian* 
 and Spanish seas. It stood on a plain on the south bank, 
 enclosed within a triangular wall, strengthened at its corners 
 by three towers, bearing the respective names of Colbeck, 
 Turgesius, and Eeginald. The streets were narrow, and the 
 houses for the most part of wood ; yet a few handsome 
 buildings gave a character to the place. These were : the 
 small Danish cathedral ; the Irish church of Bishop Fergus 
 
 * Yerginian Sea — southern part of the Irish Channel. 
 
846 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 O'FIannahan ; and a palace built for the Danish governor, 
 now occupied by King Henry's lieutenant, Eobert Fitz- 
 Bernard. 
 
 On the north bank, opposite Reginald's Tower, stood a small, 
 church of stone, with a handsome wooden convent attached to 
 it. This was Kilcheechan, called the Nunnery de Bello Portu, 
 founded a few years previously by King Dermod of Leinster, 
 as a dependency of his new convent of St. Mary de Hoggis, 
 near Dublin. 
 
 Few pleasanter spots could well have been selected for a re- 
 ligious foundation. Secluded from the busy town by a broad 
 watery barrier, it was yet near enough to be within the pro- 
 tection of the garrison in case of a civil war. Embowered in 
 spreading oak trees, and surrounded with a blooming garden, 
 it commanded a most enchanting view of the hills both up and 
 down the river. 
 
 At a small casement window, guarded by iron bars, sat the 
 stately form of Grainne, little changed from what we have 
 known her, save for the expression of weariness that had 
 gathered round her dark eyes. She was busily engaged in 
 repairing a coarse woollen garment, pausing whilst she re- 
 plenished her needle to gaze at the pale faces of Sorcha and 
 M6r, both intent on their old work of transcription. 
 
 M6r's cheeks had regained some of their fulness. Sorcha 
 looked as strong and beautiful, though much less blooming, 
 than of yore. Suddenly pausing, she placed her hand to her 
 ear. 
 
 " Hear ye nothing ? " she asked. 
 
 M6r listened anxiously for a few moments. 
 
 " All is silent," she replied. 
 
 " It cometh to me in my dreams,'' said Sorcha. " In the 
 midst of the night I start at the sound. Thinkest thou that 
 he is really dead ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it," replied Grainne, looking compassionately 
 at her. " I dressed his little body." 
 
THE BEIDES OP ARDMOBE. 847 
 
 " He might have died in our keeping," said M6r. " But 
 it was cruel in them to take our children. No doubt the 
 little darlings have been treated kindly ; but how can un- 
 married women handle a baby so well as its own mother ? " 
 
 " They say that thy Ere thrives," remarked Sorcha. 
 
 " Yea," replied M6r ; " I believe that the sisters have 
 some wise enough rules for his up-bringing ; but theories 
 which succeed with one child need to be varied to suit 
 another. Poor Eossa would not make his wants conform as 
 he ought to have done. He caught cold when there was no 
 reason for it." 
 
 " He is gathered home," said Sorcha, sighing deeply. " I 
 would rather know of his being there than live in uncertainty 
 about his future. Thinkest thou that they will make Ere a 
 priest ? " 
 
 " I doubt it not," replied M6r. " Bishop Tostius said that 
 our stay here was to be only temporary. But every time 
 when we have expressed a wish to shorten it, we have found 
 our liberty curtailed." 
 
 " Yea," said Sorcha. " Yet they are kind to us withal. 
 Sisters Anna and Mary could not speak more gently than 
 they do. It is strange how such good women see not how 
 they have trampled on our holiest affections." 
 
 " Thinkest thou that Ardal hath got thy letter ? " asked 
 Grainn6. 
 
 " I doubt it not," replied Sorcha. " He imagines me safe. 
 Methinks it would be difficult for a messenger of his to pene- 
 trate here." 
 
 " Yet it is a comfort," said Grainn^, " that Sister Mary can 
 tell us so much. Her uncle keeps her well informed of thy 
 husband's doings. The good Tostius hath not forgotten thee. 
 Thou knowest not half the value of such a friend. It is 
 quite impossible for me to have news of Olrud or of my 
 boys." 
 
 "I marvel that they will not permit thee to join him," 
 
848 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 remarked Sorcha. " Yet they hold that thou art lawfully 
 wedded. Thou art on a different footing from what we are." 
 
 "I cannot imagine the reason," replied Grainne. "It 
 makes me suspect that Olrud is a very active foe of the new 
 government. No doubt, like Ardal, he is a spring of the 
 resistance which they still encounter." 
 
 " Yea," said Sorcha ; "yet it is hard for me to learn so 
 little about Ardal. Fergus, it seems, wears the Eoman 
 tonsure. He is fully acknowledged as a priest." 
 
 " He is in his right place," said M6r. " But comfort 
 thyself ; I am as confident as thou canst be that Ardal will 
 never stoop to repudiate thee." 
 
 Sorcha's eyes glistened. " I thank thee," she said, pressing 
 M6r's hand. 
 
 " I am thoroughly weary of this work," sighed Grainne. 
 " I never had so much darning, even when my boys were 
 little." 
 
 " If thou wouldst but take to thy pen," said Sorcha, " the 
 hours would fly mush faster." 
 
 " That is a sweet consolation to me," remarked Mor. 
 " When we are buried below that turf, this work of our 
 hands will live. It may, perhaps, be a seed from which the 
 true greatness of Erin may yet spring." 
 
 " Or something better, 1 ' replied Soreha. " It will assuredly 
 be a seed for the kingdom of heaven. How we shall rejoice 
 to welcome those who have benefited by our labours ! But 
 methinks I hear the bell for our evening meaL " 
 
 All laid down their work, Sorcha and M6r consigning the 
 parchments to a small oaken chest. 
 
 Groping their way along a dark passage, they descended a 
 ladder, and found themselves in the large refectory, where a 
 number of white-robed Augustinian nuns and young .children 
 were already seated. 
 
 The aged abbess motioned to the three to take their places 
 at the board beside her. She had been a comely woman, 
 
THE BRIDES OP ABDMOBE. 349 
 
 yet there was a look of great weariness on her wrinkled face, 
 her grey locks being effectually concealed by snowy bands. 
 Her dark eyes had a dimness in them, very different from 
 what had been the sparkle in Amada's. 
 
 Her two nieces sat beside her. They were tall, active 
 women, with fresh faces and mild grey eyes, from which all 
 lustre seemed to have died away. There was something 
 touchingly gentle in their manner towards their three guests. 
 Yet no syllable passed their lips after the abbess's clear tones 
 had been heard in a Latin benediction. All sat with down- 
 cast eyes whilst partaking of some rye bread moistened with 
 milk. One young sister, having been guilty of late attendance 
 at matins, had her portion served out on the floor. 
 
 Then in a low, monotonous voice began the reading of the 
 Scriptures. These, however, being in a tongue unknown to 
 most of the fair recluses, failed to bring any expression of 
 sympathetic assent to any eyes save those of their guests. 
 
 As they at length rose after the concluding benediction, 
 Sister Anna laid her hand gently on M6r's arm. They 
 passed out into the garden together, followed by Grainne', 
 Sorcha, and Sister Mary. 
 
 "I rejoice to tell thee," said the nun, speaking a little 
 above her breath, " that thine Ere hath been good. He is 
 most submissive to his teachers and companions." 
 
 " I thank thee," replied M6r, observing the kindly twinkle 
 in Sister Mary's eye. 
 
 " I love to have you in the garden," continued Anna. 
 " My primroses grow well ; I would fain have thee see them. 
 Six of them have opened out since yesterday." 
 
 " "We have done some work to-day," remarked Sorcha. 
 " We have transcribed two chapters of the Epistle to the 
 Thessalonians." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it," replied Sister Mary. " It is the one 
 thing by which you redeem yourselves from the charge of 
 heresy." 
 
850 THE BEIDES OF ABDMOKE. 
 
 " Yes," replied Sorcha, looking round to see that none of 
 the other nuns were following. " Doth it never seem strange 
 to you that we should be better instructed in the Word of 
 God than you are, though you hold us to be no members of 
 the true Church ? " 
 
 " You have more knowledge in every way," replied Mary; 
 " yet methinks the great end of all education is not to cul- 
 tivate the head, but the heart." 
 
 "And doth the one preclude the other?" asked Grainne. 
 " Shall we love our Creator less the more we know about 
 Him?" 
 
 "Nay," replied Mary, crossing herself; "but instruction 
 hath danger in it when it placeth reason before a simple 
 faith." 
 
 " I blush not to say," said Sorcha, " that I am a Christian 
 in the first place because my reason is convinced." 
 
 " Thou art, then, happy," replied Mary; " though not more 
 so by any means than we are. But reason hath misled the 
 greatest thinker of France. Dost thou hope to have more 
 wit than Abelard ? " 
 
 "It is like God's other gifts,'' said Grainne. "Imight hurt 
 myself very much, for instance, were I to consume a large 
 honeycomb." 
 
 " The comparison is but specious," replied Sister Mary. 
 "We make a willing sacrifice of our reason to the authorities 
 whom God hath appointed to use it for us. It is this faculty 
 which gives us the power of sinning." 
 
 "Eve had faith in the serpent,'' remarked M6r. 
 
 " Thou speakest in ignorance," replied the nun. " If thou 
 didst but once taste the intense happiness of belonging to the 
 true Church, thou wouldst know what faith is." 
 
 Sorcha's eyes swam with tears. " Thou hast a love for 
 me," she replied, " else thou wouldst not be so earnest to make 
 me like thyself." 
 
 "I pray night and day," replied the nun, "that thou mayest 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMOEE. 351 
 
 become a partaker of the joy that is sometimes vouchsafed to 
 me. Often after I have partaken of the Holy Eucharist do I 
 feel as if I were almost in heaven ; it is a wondrous privilege 
 to come so near to Him.'' 
 
 Sorcha pressed her arm affectionately. "It is strange," 
 she said, "though I cannot hope to make thee believe it, that 
 I have felt exactly the same when breaking bread after our 
 rite. I have had fellowship with the Son of God ; He has 
 been very near me, though I think not that the bread hath 
 been changed into His substance." 
 
 ' ' Is that true ? " exclaimed Mary, looking surprised . "Didst 
 thou scarcely know that thou wert treading our earth, for the 
 very joy of thinking about Him ? " 
 
 " Yea, yea," replied Sorcha, with a sunny smile. " These 
 are tokens that we are both in Christ, though we worship Him 
 under very different forms." 
 
 " I love thee more than ever," said Mary. " I believe that 
 thou wilt be saved, though thou hast fallen into error. God 
 beareth much with His own." 
 
 " He doth so verily," exclaimed Sorcha, " else we should 
 both be castaways. My friendship for thee, Mary, hath made 
 me see more than ever that the true Church is not a visible 
 one. Thou thinkest that thou attainest to such happy states 
 because thou hast received grace through appointed human 
 channels ; yet hast thou only received it, like me, by the power 
 of the Spirit, and thou doest Him grievous wrong by attri- 
 buting it so much to the ministrations of a priest." 
 
 " I am not learned enough to discuss these themes," replied 
 Mary, "and would rather let them alone. My chief care is 
 to make my own salvation sure." 
 
 " I could say much about that," said Sorcha, smiling, " but 
 I fear it would not profit thee. Still this talk hath done me 
 good. Thou mightest have had more hope of me if thou hadst 
 not taken little Eossa away." 
 
 There was something unutterably sorrowful in the look 
 
852 
 
 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 which the young mother cast on the nun. Mary felt it. She 
 pressed Sorcha's hand warmly; perchance she suppressed a 
 slight feeling of rebellion against the rigidness of the rule 
 which had made her willingly carry out the decrees of others. 
 
 " It is the hour for meditation," she exclaimed, hearing the 
 tinkle of a bell. " Wilt thou not join in that and in our even- 
 song ? " 
 
 " I thank thee," replied Sorcha. " I find my thoughts flow 
 more freely towards Divine things when I kneel not of set 
 purpose in the presence of others. These hours of silent yet 
 common devotion seem to me as if one should set lighted 
 brands on a hearth in such manner that their flames may not 
 approach each other, and then wonder at their smouldering 
 out." 
 
 It had taken some time for Grainne and her young friends 
 to discover their true position. They had been treated with 
 every consideration and respect consistent with the loss of 
 liberty. The abbess's manner to them had been such as a kind 
 mother might have used towards returning prodigals. The 
 first thing that had opened their eyes had been the removal 
 of their children. 
 
 Tears and protestations had all been in vain. " In seek- 
 ing our protection," the abbess had said, " you have virtually 
 bound yourselves to refrain from disturbing our conventional 
 arrangements. Your children will be reared by the sisters 
 who are set apart for that purpose." 
 
 Sorcha and M6r were not at all disposed to submit to this. 
 But Grainnerepresented to them that theirstay at Kilcheechan 
 was only temporary, that the children were too small for any 
 erroneous ideas to take root in their minds, that the hands to 
 which they were being entrusted were experienced ones, and 
 that the hour of their departure would be the hour of their 
 re-union with the boys." 
 
 " But when will that be ? " asked Mor. " There is no home 
 left for me on earth." 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 353 
 
 " Say not so," exclaimed Sorcha. " Ardal and Olrud are 
 both too energetic not to devise some plan for our future wel- 
 fare. Our roof will be narrow indeed, if there be not a corner 
 under it for thee." 
 
 Then came Sorcha's crushing sorrow. Ere throve, hut 
 Eossa pined and sickened with his new nurses. Only a few 
 weeks passed ere she raised a very low psalm of thanksgiving 
 over his tiny hier. 
 
 " I fancy," she said bitterly, when she found herself alone 
 with her fellow-captives, " that the nuns' wish to keep him 
 in life has been but slight. They have looked on our children 
 with a kind of horror, being in their eyes the offspring of 
 sacrilege. I say not that Eossa hath heen starved, far from 
 it ; but what may not be neglect for one child, may be some- 
 thing very like it for another." ' 
 
 "Yea," replied M6r. "There are troubles that only a 
 mother's eye seeth in their beginnings. Had it been my Ere, 
 I should not have been so much tempted to murmur. Thou 
 wouldst have had a home for Eossa, whilst 1 £hal'l often have 
 to blush for my little darling." 
 
 " Thou hast no need to do so," said Grairme. " Even if 
 public opinion hold him to be illegitimate, what, I ask, was 
 Bridget, or Kentigern, or David.? They certainly outlived 
 any stigma of the kind." 
 
 " True," replied M6r ; " yet it hurteth me mucfh to see that 
 these sisters think him so. "My mother would have said that 
 it is the blood of the Ua-Breasail, which makes me dislike to 
 be pitied." 
 
 " Thou must not heed them," said Sorcha. "I know -that 
 they cherish the same feeling towards me. It matters more 
 what our Creator thinks of us. Still, I -would fain that Ardal 
 had not been so weak when he was at Olairvaux ; yet I am 
 more ready to excuse him since I have known ttbese sisters. If 
 they had not taken our children from us, I might not have 
 found it so easy to shake off the spells they weave." 
 
 24 
 
854 THE BEIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 "Is it not -wondrous," said Grainne, " the power which 
 the faith of other men hath over us ? It is worth a boat's 
 load of arguments ; and there is something very attractive in 
 the idea of the truth having been handed down through an 
 unbroken line of bishops. We have to grope in the dark for 
 much amidst conflicting theories. It is little wonder, then, if 
 we are ready to welcome a steady beacon." 
 
 " Were it but clear as it is steady," replied Sorcha, " there 
 would be little more to wish for." 
 
 " It hath at least guided its followers to victory," said Mdr. 
 " Wherever one turns one hears only of fresh submissions to 
 Eome and to England." 
 
 " Because our native bishops have had so little firmness," 
 said Sorcha. " Our Church committed the worst of errors 
 when she allowed worldly motives to have so much influence 
 on the entrance of candidates into her ministry. Men whose 
 hearts are not in their work, will welcome a system such as 
 the Koman one is.'' 
 
 "Yet the invasion began not yesterday," remarked 
 Grainne ; " it hath been going on for half a century. Since 
 Malachy O'Morgair displaced the co-arbs of Patrick at 
 Armagh, and since the Synod of Eathbresail sanctioned the 
 establishment of prelatic chairs, every tree of the Lord's 
 planting in this island hath been tinged with the yellow hue 
 of the coming change." 
 
 " Thou mayest go back yet further," said Sorcha, " and 
 say that when Patrick's hereditary successors claimed supre- 
 macy over other bishops, they were but treading down a path 
 for the lordly foot of him who should displace them." 
 
 " And Eossa told me," said Grainne, " what heart-burn- 
 ings there have been at Lismore on account of some tamper- 
 ing with our ancient records. Some who have the charge of 
 copying them, being trained in the Eomish communion, 
 understand not the terms that have been in use amongst us. 
 They make a practice of substituting the word mass for reli- 
 
THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 355 
 
 gious service, and priest for a simple bishop. It may be that 
 we women who have married ecclesiastics, when we slumber 
 in our graves, will actually be considered to have had no 
 existence." 
 
CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 The summer went past in unbroken monotony, Sorcha and 
 her fellow-prisoners receiving no tidings whatever from the 
 outer, world They felt morally convinced that everything 
 there could not be so quiet as it seemed ; yet of King 
 Henry's departure for England, of the meeting of a great 
 Synod at Cashel, of the frequent conflicts between the new- 
 comers and the native Irish, they heard absolutely nothing. 
 
 Nor was the least sign given from Ardal nor from Olrud. 
 Sorcha began, indeed, to doubt if they knew where their 
 wives were. 
 
 " My husband would have found some means of sending 
 me a message," she said, " if my letters had been indeed 
 delivered to him. I fear that Bishop Tostius doth not keep 
 strict faith with us." 
 
 " Thou hast surely forgotten," remairked Grainne, " that 
 thy Ardal is looked upon as an outlaw. Any man, woman, 
 or child who should carry a letter from him to thee would 
 pay for it with his life. " 
 
 " That may be," replied Sorcba ; " yet are we now dwell- 
 ing in the midst of his mother's kin. Few of the fishermen 
 whom we see plying their craft down these waters are without 
 a tinge of the blood of the O'Faolains ; and it hath ever 
 been in the Gaelic nature to serve their chiefs to the 
 death." 
 
 " Thou speakest truth," said Grainne" ; " yet Ardal, per- 
 chance, may be loth to risk a poor man's life in such service 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDM0RE. 357 
 
 ere his plans be ripe for our release. He would not willingly 
 have us hunted about the country with himself. Obud and 
 he are probably content to know of our safety, and do not 
 dream of what a crushing anxiety weighs upon our hearts." 
 
 The three had now no feeling that they were living on 
 charity, Sister Mary having given them to understand that 
 the convent was realising a little money by the sale of their 
 transcriptions. 
 
 The feast of the Assumption drew near. It was to be 
 celebrated with unusual pomp in all the churches of Water- 
 ford. There was to be a special service in that of Kil- 
 cheechan. 
 
 " I should much regret thy not seeing it," said the abbess 
 to Grainnd. "There is a croft in the western wall- with a 
 window which overlooks the church. Thou and thy two 
 friends might sit there without being observed." 
 
 Grainne\ Sorcha, and Mor found themselves accordingly 
 behind a wooden lattice, the perforations of which permitted 
 them to enjoy an uninterrupted view over the assembled con- 
 gregation. They looked down on the rows of hooded, nuns 
 and on the rosy faces of the little ones who were under their 
 care ; M6r straining her eyes eagerly to catch a glimpse of 
 her own boy. As the glorious roll of the Gregorian chant 
 arose from the pealing voices of the choristers, a gorgeous 
 procession entered though the chief door opposite to that 
 which led from the convent. It marched up the centre of 
 the nave. 
 
 But what face surmounted the violet robes, of a tonsured 
 priest who walked on the bishop's right hand ? Mor grasped 
 Sorcha's arm convulsively, for she recognised the blue eyes 
 and mobile features of Fergus. 
 
 Sorcha, too, trembled. He was there, beneath the same 
 roof ; he who had dared to trample on the most sacred vows, 
 under the shallow pretence of pleasing Heaven. He was 
 coming, perhaps knowingly, into the presence of her whose 
 
358 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 life he had blasted. And he marched with unabashed front, 
 moving amongst the servants of God towards the very steps 
 of the altar. 
 
 Grainne' herself shuddered. The anthem at length ended, 
 the clouds of incense began to dissolve away, and the bishop 
 stood ready to bless the Eucharistic elements. 
 
 An ^indefinable dread came over Sorcha. She had become 
 sufficiently intimate with sincere Catholics to understand the 
 awful meaning attached by them to this their highest act of 
 faith. She tried to suppose for an instant that this faith 
 was well grounded ; and that the sacrifice on Calvary was 
 about to be repeated. Would not Bishop Tostius be seized 
 with such a tremulous awe that he would become unable to 
 offer it ? 
 
 " He can hardly realise the greatness of Him whose sub- 
 stance he touches," thought Sorcha, " else would he shrink 
 back confounded at his own presumption." 
 
 But no ! the elements were raised, whilst the tinkle of a 
 bell warned the worshippers that the sacrifice was being 
 offered. Pew of those who knelt before it were so over- 
 powered by the thought of it as the three captives. Even 
 the presence of Fergus was, for the moment, forgotten by 
 them. 
 
 The ceremony was at length over ; the congregation dis- 
 persed. Some, however, lingered either for confession or to 
 hear additional masses at the smaller altars. 
 
 Fergus was at length seen to emerge from the sacristy and 
 walk up the steps of one of these. M6r again grasped Sorcha's 
 arm. 
 
 " Ah 1 " she exclaimed, in a tone of apprehensive horror, 
 " he is never going to " 
 
 Sorcha's eyes were dilated. Her lips parted in a very bitter 
 smile. 
 
 "It loseth nothing of its efficacy," she whispered, "by 
 reason of the priest's unworthiness." 
 
SHE BRIDES OF AKDMORE. 359 
 
 M6r rose. " Let us hasten away," she exclaimed ; " there 
 are some things which might make the very devils Mush. 
 Either Fergus believes in what he is going to do, or he does 
 not. In the one case he insults his fellow-worshippers, in the 
 other he has accepted a doctrine which insults his Creator." 
 
 They reached their little room. M6r threw open its case- 
 ment. 
 
 " The air is freer here,'' she said. " I would rather have 
 my body in a cage then my mind so bound with the chains of 
 falsehood. Thinkest thou not, Sorcha, had it been the real 
 ark of God which Fergus was touching, his hand would have 
 been withered ? " 
 
 " The Almighty, methinks, is more forbearing now than 
 He was of old," replied Sorcha, trembling violently. 
 
 M6r gazed at her in some amazement. " Thou seemest as 
 much disturbed by my husband's presence as I am," she 
 said. 
 
 Sorcha's cheeks were crimson. " I had a narrow escape 
 from wedding Fergus myself," she said, softly. 
 
 " How could that be ? " exclaimed Mor. " Thou wert surely 
 too young to be sought after when he finished his studies at 
 Ardmore ? " 
 
 "Yea verily," replied Sorcha, colouring. "It was after 
 his return from abroad. On the very morning of the day 
 that Ardal received my promise, I was hesitating whether 
 or not I should accept Fergus.'' 
 
 A spasm of pain shot over Mor's face. She fixed her clear 
 eyes steadily on the speaker. 
 
 "Had he held to thee the language of love ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yea," replied Sorcha ; " I was his queen, his empress, the 
 star without whose radiance life would be dark to him." 
 
 Mor covered her face with her hands. " The very expres- 
 sions he used to me," she said, " and it must have been at the 
 very same time. Yes," she continued, clenching her hand, 
 "I have been bitterly, cruelly deceived." 
 
360 THE BEIDES OF AEDMOBE. 
 
 Sorcha kissed her affectionately. " Thou hast no need to 
 be ashamed of it,.'' she said. "I was almost tempted to be- 
 lieve in him, though I doubted whether or not his words might 
 be the ravings of a poet. Yet have I only escaped by what 
 seemed to me a miracle.-" 
 
 "Human affectioa is a holy thing," said M6r. "They 
 who play with it, who treat it but as an amusement, will have 
 much to answer for."' 
 
 " It is like spotting with fire," replied Sorcha. " Yet the 
 man or woman who does- it is not the one who is scorched." 
 
 " That seems wofully unjust," said M6r. "But I doubt if 
 it be so ; for they have their recompence. Though their 
 consciences may be dead, the blood of their victims' hearts 
 will surely cry out against them. The absence of feeling 
 which such conduct presupposes and confirms is in itself no 
 slight punishment.." 
 
 " I sometimes tremble lest I should have been guilty of it 
 myself," said Sorcha^. "For the knowledge of Ardal's love 
 came upon me with an' impulse so irresistible that I was as 
 a vessel carried away from its moorings, and I seemed to have 
 no leisure for reflection as to whether I had acted justly or not 
 to my first wooer ; but I now feel myself absolved. It was a 
 true instinct which made- ma suspect Fergus' sincerity." 
 
 On the evening of the same day Sorcha wandered into the 
 garden. She remained there for some time after all the nuns 
 had re-entered for their half-hour of silent meditation. It was 
 a close, warm night, the moon was riding high in the heavens, 
 casting a weird radiance over the ramparts in front of the city 
 on the opposite shore,, and making Eeginald's Tower stand 
 forth in unwonted stateliness. The trees, heavy with dew, 
 cast fitful shadows over the smooth turf. Sorcha was revolv- 
 ing in hen mind the impressive though startling scene she had 
 that day witnessed.. 
 
 Suddenly she heard her name pronounced in an accent 
 which thrilled through her very being. 
 
THE BRIDES OP AEDMORE. 361 
 
 " Sorcha ! " 
 
 Was she dreaming ? Had the events of the morning un- 
 settled her brain ? It eould not be — no, it could not ! It was 
 the whisper of some disembodied spirit. 
 
 " Sorcha ! " 
 
 She started. The tone was more distinct. She trembled 
 to hear it repeated. 
 
 " Sorcha ! " 
 
 It seemed to come the third time from a clump of thorn 
 bushes close to the wall which skirted the river. Sorcha flew 
 noiselessly thither. Her breath was hurried, her heart beat- 
 ing wildly. She discerned in the faint light, beneath the 
 bushes, the tall figure of a man. Sorcha was intensely imagi- 
 native. No form of flesh, she judged, could have leapt over 
 that garden wall without attracting the notice of the porter. 
 This must be some messenger from the world of darkness. 
 
 Sorcha turned to flee ; but a firm hand laid hold of her 
 mantle. She tried to free herself. Then a quick sense of 
 something came over her. She bent forward and was locked 
 in the man's strong arms. It was only for a moment. Gasp- 
 ing, trembling, she laid her soft hand on his. 
 
 " Fly ! fly ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Not for worlds," replied a deep voice. "I could trust no 
 other messenger. Take this, it will teach thee what to do." 
 
 Another embrace, a pressure of lips that seemed to be the 
 contact of souls, and the beloved form had disappeared. 
 
 Sorcha stood bewildered for an instant, gazing intently into 
 the thorn bushes. Nothing stirred. It was a still, calm 
 night, the very gnats seemed to hover on lazy wings. Nothing 
 was heard but a low ripple of water. 
 
 Sorcha walked leisurely towards the convent door. She 
 was trying to regain her composure, but her cheeks were 
 flushed and her eyes bright. She encountered Sister Mary. 
 
 " Thou doest ill to be out so late," remarked the nun. 
 " Methinks thou hast caught cold." 
 
862 THE BRIDES OF ABDMOKE^ 
 
 There was a burning spot in Sorcha's bosom, caused by the 
 pressure of a wax tablet. 
 
 " Shall I warm for thee some barley ptisane ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " Nay, but I thank thee," replied Sorcha. " I am accus- 
 tomed to be out after sunset." 
 
 She hastened to her chamber. Grainne' and M6r were both 
 there. Sorcha bolted the door. Her friends stared at her in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Hath anything happened? " asked Grainne. 
 
 " Yea," whispered Sorcha, making a sign first to her own 
 ear, then towards the walls. She examined every corner about 
 the three little straw-covered beds ; then drew forth the wax 
 tablet from her bosom. 
 
 She held it to the light ; Grainne and M6r looking over 
 her shoulder. The writing ran thus : 
 
 "My own Love,- — To-morrow night, at the ninth hour, will 
 Olrud and I come with a boat below the wall under whose 
 shadow I spoke to thee. Bid Grainne amd M6r be ready. 
 Come with the two boys if possible. A few hours will place 
 us beyond the reach of pursuit." 
 
 The three captives clasped their hands, looking upwards in 
 silent ecstasy. Placing the point of a small stylus in the flame 
 of a rushlight, Sorcha kissed the writing, and then erased it. 
 
 None of the three closed an eye. Each nursed a joyful 
 excitement which was the more powerful because of its en- 
 forced suppression. Grainne' thought of freedom and of her 
 children. Of her husband too. Now it could he hers to prove 
 that she loved him ; in real poverty and in exile he seemed 
 for the first time to be noble. 
 
 M6r was disturbed by a painful struggle. Should she leave 
 Ere ? With the first streak of light she wrote this question 
 on a tablet, placing it before Grainne's eyes. 
 
 Her friend replied in the same manner. " Thou wilt never 
 see him again by staying here." 
 
THE BEIDES OF ARDMORE. 363 
 
 Mor shook her head sadly. 
 
 Never was day longer than the following one. Their few 
 preparations were easily made. After evensong they sallied 
 out. 
 
 But they had only gone a few steps across the greensward, 
 when M6r paused, hesitated for an instant, then turning, fled 
 back towards the convent door. Sorcha tried to rush after 
 her. 
 
 " Art thou mad ? " asked Grainne, seizing her arm with 
 some violence. " The mother's heart speaketh too strongly; 
 let her remain. Thou riskest other lives than ours by delay." 
 
 Sorcha sighed heavily, then glided to the spot where she 
 had spoken with Ardal. The night was dark, the moon 
 struggling with heavy clouds. They discerned, close to the 
 wall, the tall figures of two nuns. 
 
 One of these raised a long, powerful arm, pointing to two 
 ropes which hung over the wall. Sorcha and Grainne both 
 recognised their husbands. 
 
 Grasping the ends of the ropes, Ardal made them fast to 
 Grainn^'s girdle. She was swung upwards. Olrud, who had 
 already mounted, untied the knots, and fastened to her the 
 ends of other ropes. He then deftly dropped her down on 
 the outer side. There she fell rather roughly. She untied 
 herself quickly, and the rope was drawn up. 
 
 Sorcha followed in the same way. Olrud and Ardal soon 
 stood beside them. 
 
 " "Where is M6r ? " asked the latter. 
 
 " Heed her not," replied Grainne" ; " she, indeed, set forth 
 with us, but hath returned, in the fond wish to dwell under 
 the same roof with her child." 
 
 " Let us run," said Olrud. 
 
 The four fled swiftly towards the river. Ardal paused for 
 a moment ; he seized Sorcha's arm, 
 
 '< "Where is Eossa ? " he asked. 
 
 " Our child is dead," replied Soroha. 
 
364 
 
 THE BRIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 The strong man groaned beneath his feminine dress. 
 They reached the rapidly flowing water. 
 
 A boat floated on its bosom. Ardal, throwing off his long 
 mantle, seized a rope, and brought it safely to the bank. 
 
 Olrud and he both leapt in ; but they were startled by a 
 piercing scream. Turning round, they saw their wives 
 struggling in the rough grasp of two soldiers. The trium- 
 phant faces of several others stood around. 
 
 "Ply! fly!" cried Sorcha, waving her arm; "ye may 
 live to save us.'' 
 
 The two bishops stood with drawn swords and flashing eyes. 
 
 " Fly ! " shrieked Grainne" ; " they will not hurt us much. 
 We have friends ; ye but hasten our death by fighting where 
 ye cannot prevail." 
 
 Several soldiers had approached the boat with their spears. 
 There was something so terrible in Ardal's face, however, 
 that they were loth to begin the conflict. 
 
 " She speaketh truth," exclaimed Olrud, seizing an oar. 
 
 In a few minutes the boat shot rapidly away. A shower of 
 spears followed it. 
 
 The soldiers relaxed their rude hold on the shuddering 
 women ; a sweet voice had fallen on their ears. It was 
 that of Sister Mary. 
 
 " Oar abbess bids you hail," she said.; " and thanks you 
 for your diligence. If the hest. of your captain allow it, 
 she would fain have these erring ones return." 
 
 " It may not be, lady," said a voice, which Sorcha remem- 
 bered to have once heard. It was that of young Fitz-David. 
 
 " We will bestow them in safe keeping till we learn the 
 pleasure of Fitz-Bernard. They are guilty of holding con- 
 verse with His Highness's enemies." 
 
 " There should be three of them," remarked a soldier. 
 " Of this were we advised." 
 
 "But the third hath not sinned," said Mary, the tears 
 gathering in her eyes. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AHDMORE. 365 
 
 '' I know not that," replied Fitz-David. " My com- 
 mands are to possess myself of the persons of three Irish- 
 women, and of two arch traitors. They will be lodged this 
 night in the Eeginald's Tower." 
 
 Mary drew a cross from her bosom. " If it must be, 
 then," she said gently, " wilt thou take this as a sign of our 
 favour ? And by it we adjure thee to use no more harshness 
 towards thy prisoners than may be necessary for carrying 
 out thy instructions. By so doing thou wilt have a claim on 
 our prayers." 
 
 The young captain accepted the preferred token. He 
 kissed it reverently, then, hanging it round his neck, com- 
 manded two of his men to fetch M6r. 
 
 Mary fixed her mild eyes upon Sorcha. " Thou bast been 
 much misguided,'' she said, " in seeking to leave our peace- 
 ful roof for the allurements of the world. Perhaps thou wilt 
 now see from what we have protected thee." 
 
 " I am not ungrateful," replied Sorcha, in a tone of utter 
 despondency; "but farewell," she continued, stretching out 
 her hand ; " my heart tells me that we must resign ourselves 
 to an ignominious death. Know, however, that we are 
 proud to suffer for the sake of our husbands." 
 
 " I will do what I can to serve you," said Mary, weeping ; 
 " so I am sure will our reverend mother. But I cannot bid 
 you hope. Our bishop hath been oft reproached for the 
 favour he hath shown you." 
 
 " Of that we were quite unaware," said Grainne, with 
 calm dignity ; " yet is it to us a token of the worth of our 
 beloved ones. Had they not been active in a cause which 
 we think noble, you would find little difficulty in protecting 
 us." 
 
 The blanched face of M6r now appeared amongst them. 
 Sorcha threw herself on her friend's neck. 
 
 " It is I who have brought thee to this," ehe exclaimed, 
 bitterly. 
 
866 THE' BRIDES OF ARDMOKE. 
 
 " And is it not more welcome," said Mor, " than the 
 dreary state that I had fallen into ? I could never hope 
 to see my child again. In a few hours it will be all over." 
 
 " And perchance," said Grainn£, " our memory may 
 awaken a vengeance strong enough to free this land from a 
 double curse. There have been rivers of blood already shed ; 
 yet may the sword of our cruel foe now lay open a spring 
 which shall let loose the flood that may overwhelm him 
 — for the sons of Erin will believe in their own enslavement 
 when they hear of this." 
 
 Fitz-David now hurried them off. A few minutes later 
 they found themselves lodged in the deep recess of a small 
 window, let into one of the circular chambers which then, 
 as now, formed one of tbe partitions of Eeginald's Tower. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 Waiting for death ! waiting not in the comfort of a home 
 surrounded by all the appliances which love can suggest for 
 the sustenance of the fainting body; waiting, not on the bosom 
 of the heaving waters, where every wave that tosses its 
 foamy crest may be a gentle messenger to lull us to our last 
 sleep : but waiting in a narrow chamber, separated by some 
 thin planks from the bivouac of a rude and drunken soldiery, 
 whose hands were but too eager to drag them to the place of 
 execution — such was the condition of Sorcha, Grainne, and 
 Mor on that terrible night in August. 
 
 "Would that it were over!" sighed the elder matron, 
 sinking exhausted on a small heap of dirty straw. " Would 
 that we had all perished at Ardmore ! " 
 
 " Nay, Grainne," replied Sorcha ; " horrible as this is, it 
 must yet work for some good. Perpetua and Felicitas did 
 not choose the manner of their own death." 
 
 " Yea," said Mor, " and methinks that as we have still 
 breath within us we should recollect what Maidoc once said 
 to Amada about our bodies. Let us not, by giving way to 
 despair, lessen the control which our spirits have over them. 
 Whilst two of us seek refreshment in sleep let the third watch 
 until daybreak. So may we have grace given us to witness 
 a good confession.'' 
 
 " Thou speakest well," replied Grainne. " Mine be the 
 first vigil." 
 
868 THE BRIDES OP ABDMOEE. 
 
 " Nay, but that is the privilege of the youngest," persisted 
 Sorcha. 
 
 It was arranged accordingly. As her companions stretched 
 their tender frames on the rough floor, the bride of an Irish 
 prince pressed her throbbing brow against the cold stone 
 beneath the window. 
 
 It was a fearful situation. Nothing but their dread of 
 Bishop Tostius's anger, Sorcha well knew, kept the rude men 
 whose words of blasphemy fell upon her ears from breaking 
 through the thin wall and perchance dashing her headlong 
 from the parapet. The air was hot, heavy, full of the steam 
 of their unhallowed potations. It was a place where many a 
 one might have been tempted to think that the eye of the 
 Creator never came. 
 
 To a woman reared as Sorcha had been the sounds she 
 heard were more painful to her than bodily torture. They 
 outraged all the fine chords of a heart which had been wont 
 to vibrate to the faintest breath of whatever was pure and 
 beautiful. It was as if the slime of some loathsome serpent 
 were being dropped over the delicate flowers of the meadow. 
 
 But the night passed away. Sorcha never recollected when 
 she fell asleep. M6r's vigil was not so terrible. The soldiers 
 were then wrapped in heavy slumber, and the wind blew cold 
 through the unglazed aperture. One faint starbeam pene- 
 trated the darkness ; it seemed like the step of a herald from 
 the celestial city. 
 
 Morning at length dawned. The hours grew apace whilst 
 Grainne^ watched for the harbinger of death. Drawing a 
 small parchment from her bosom, she sought comfort in the 
 promises of the changeless One. 
 
 Their breakfast was passed through a loosened plank. 
 Whilst they partook of it they were startled by the sight of a 
 familiar face. It was that of Cacht. Her person was as 
 stout, but her cheeks less blooming than they had been at 
 Ardmore. She was, in truth, very pale. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AKDMOBE. 369 
 
 Sorcha dropped an untasted morseL "Art thou also 
 captive ? " slie asked. 
 
 " Nay," replied Cacht. " I have taken service with the 
 priest, Fergus O'Flannahan, who dwelleth im this town of 
 Waterford. He was wont of old to speak me fair, and when 
 I saw the Ardmore family scattered I bethought me of a 
 promise which I had once made to him — that should any- 
 thing befall Amada or thee, I would seek none but him for a 
 master. I knew not well where my own kin were ; so I 
 thought I would run the risk of his having a bad memory. 
 He has been better to me than to his wife," she continued 
 in a half whisper, glancing at Mor. " Yet must I work hard 
 for a scanty sustenance." 
 
 " Art thou here with his approval ? " asked Grainnd 
 
 Cacht shook her head. "Nay," she replied; "but one of 
 tbe troopers here hath a kindness towards me." 
 
 Cacht's voice dropped. She made an expressive gesture, 
 then held something towards Sorcha wrapped in a dirty rag. 
 
 " I must leave you," she said, " for my master hath 
 not yet broken his fast. Yet I weep to see you in such 
 straits." 
 
 She disappeared from the narrow chamber, leaving the 
 three captives somewhat bewildered. Sorcha, stepping to 
 the window, unfolded the bit of saffron-coloured wool. 
 
 Next moment she stood motionless, gasping as if struggling 
 to suppress a scream. Her eyes shone with unearthly splen- 
 dour as she held out a wax tablet. 
 
 Grainne and M6r both started as they beheld the writing 
 It was that of Ardal. 
 
 "We will again deliver you," it said, " if ye have aught to 
 weave into a strong twist. If not, devise with the bearer of 
 this how best she may furnish you with straw or with twigs." 
 
 ■ Mor's lips formed themselves as if to pronounce the word 
 
 25 
 
370 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 " straw." She glanced at the dirty floor. Sorcha con- 
 tinued, 
 
 " The signal will be this night, a light waxing and waning 
 in the little creek ten yards further down the river-bank. 
 It may be at any hour ; but when ye see it, descend." 
 
 The three clasped each other's hands. A rush of colour 
 overspread their faces ; but no sound could they utter. It 
 was like the first fall of rain after severe drought. 
 
 Then Grainne, seating herself in a corner, began to plait 
 the straw. 
 
 Mor's eyes fell, however, on a small bundle. Opening it, 
 she unrolled several'coils of twisted heather. 
 
 " Cacht must have dropped this," she said. " Her hands 
 and feet are verily those of an angel." 
 
 Sorcha laid her finger to her lips. 
 
 The hours went slowly past. No glass had they to measure 
 time. The large chamber from the centre of which they were 
 boarded off was less frequented in the daylight ; only occa- 
 sionally did the bluff face of a soldier intrude itself behind 
 the partition, as if to make sure of their safety. 
 
 The sun at length began to go down. Looking through 
 the narrow slit which was their one remaining hope of free- 
 dom, they perceived the hills becoming tinted with his parting 
 radiance. They could see the sweep of the mighty river 
 pouring the full tide of its waters a few yards from the base 
 of the tower, and they could measure the breadth of the 
 marsh dotted with clumps of yellow furze, which on that side 
 stretched behind the city wall and the hills. 
 
 Then the inner room began to fill Again was heard the 
 sound of revelry, again the drunken shout and the shameless 
 oath. Nor were these unmingled with coarse allusions to the 
 fate of tbe fair captives. 
 
 " Why are they not in the common prison?" asked a voice. 
 
THE BRIDES OF AEDMOBE. 371 
 
 " Because," replied another, " our governor feareth to of- 
 fend that shaven priest. Were I a baron, not one of his crew 
 should meddle with the working of the laws. But our rulers 
 are frightened now, since the king hath done such a wondrous 
 penance." 
 
 " What ! for the blood of St. Thomas ! " cried the first 
 speaker, "methinks we should make our peace with heaven 
 all the quicker were we to rid ourselves of such hypocrites." 
 
 There was silence for a few minutea Some of these rude 
 men were crossing themselves. 
 
 " Thou art rash," said a third voice. " But these women 
 block out some of our light, and I pray that our masters 
 would soon remove them, for cumbersome trash as they are." 
 
 But the night grew darker. The sounds of revelry at 
 length died away ; nought was heard but heavy snoring. 
 
 Grainne' sat at the window, straining her eyes after a 
 glimpse of the promised signal. 
 
 At length appeared a little flickering light, quite low near 
 the water's edge. 
 
 There was not a moment to lose ; yet the matron's 
 fingers trembled as she bound the end of a heathery coil to 
 Sorcha's girdle. 
 
 She conquered her agitation, however, by a determined 
 effort. Then Sorcha forced her slender frame through the 
 narrow window. 
 
 There was a drop of some twenty feet to the ground ; yet 
 all three reached it safely, finding themselves half-embedded 
 in wet moss. Then they ran. As they neared the river, two 
 dark forms arose out of the furze. Silently Olrud and Ardal 
 conducted them into the boat. 
 
 It was a tiny coracle of rude wickerwork, covered both 
 within and without with the skins of oxen ; having for a keel, 
 however, a good solid piece of oak. In such a vessel the 
 fugitives well knew some of their countrymen had not shrunk 
 from encountering the storms of ocean, when bearing to the 
 
372 THE BRIDES OF ARDM0BE. 
 
 shores of Caledonia and of Iceland the imperishable seed of a 
 living faith. 
 
 Olrud and Ardal were both habited in the brown leather 
 kilts of fishermen, with cloaks of saffron-coloured wool, 
 fastened on the shoulder by an iron pin. Their oars soon 
 dipped softly in the water, 
 
 Grainne' gazed at the sky. Her whole soul seemed to ex- 
 pand in the delight of new-felt freedom, 
 
 " For once,'' she said, " we may speak our thoughts." 
 
 M6r was crouching in the bottom of the boat ; her chin 
 supported on her thin hands, and her blue eyes fixed wistfully 
 on the white church and dark convent of Kilcheechan. Her 
 pent-up feelings soon found expression in a low wail. 
 
 Sorcha, kneeling at her side, passed an arm round her 
 slender form. Ardal rested for a moment on his oar. 
 
 " Might we not return ? " he suggested. " The women are 
 strong enough to row down stream. I could linger about 
 until I succeeded in stealing the little fellow." 
 
 " That is madness ! " exclaimed Olrud. ".There will be a 
 cry after us when morning breaks. Thou wilt lose thine own 
 life, and thy country will miss thee. As for the women row- 
 ing, thou knowest that we must soon meet the in-flow of the 
 Barrow, and df we cannot dart swiftly through its eddies, we 
 must infallibly be carried downwards, to be borne in day- 
 light past the new English settlement on the Pill." 
 
 "And methimks,'' suggested Grainne, "that we shall 
 hardly be out of danger when we reach land. Hath Olrud 
 strength to guide us to a place of safety ? " 
 
 " You must go on," said M6r. " Much as I grieve for Ere, 
 I will never consent to thy seeking him. No 'life but mine 
 should be endangered on his account." 
 
 " Perchance," said Sorcha, "when thou hast grown a little 
 stronger, thou mayst be able to devise some plan for getting 
 possession of him." 
 
 The two men now bent eagerly to their work. The foam 
 
THE BEIDES OP ABDMOBE. §73 
 
 flew in shining wreaths from their oars, and the low gurgle 
 of water around the prow gave token that they were speeding. 
 
 " Whither are ye taking ns. ? " asked Grainne\ 
 
 "We go up the Barrow to-night," replied Ardal. "We 
 shall linger for some days in a forest by its shores. Then we 
 must proceed on fast for many a mile. We hope to find 
 shelter on an island in the mouth of the great river. There 
 a missionary foundation hath existed since the days of 
 Patrick." 
 
 " But will the Saxon be long in reaching it ? " asked 
 Grainne\ 
 
 " Surely not,'' replied her husbancL; "yet are there other 
 isles along the western coast where hermits have dwelt. 
 They are barren enough to be safe from the spoiler. Maidoc 
 and Ita have gone thither, and we may have a little home, 
 whence Ardal and I can issue forth to break the bread of life 
 to our countrymen on the mainland." 
 
 "But seas are rough," suggested Sorcha. " The great 
 ocean rages round these isles with resistless fury." 
 
 " The God of Columba and of Cormac will be with. us," re- 
 plied ArdaL " And He who bade Peter come to Him on the 
 water, will not leave Peter's true successors to sink while 
 bearing His message." 
 
 The shores had now risen into stately wood-covered, hills. 
 They had turned southward, into a channel running betwixt 
 the southern bank and a large island. 
 
 " What have you done since, you left Ardmore and 
 Eillagve ? " asked Grainne. 
 
 " Ardal has become famous,." replied Olrud.. "There is a 
 heavy price on his head." 
 
 Sorcha shuddered. " We know that well," she replied ; 
 " we were told of it when Ardmore was in flames." 
 
 " Yet are we fighting in a lost cause," said Olrud. " Erin 
 will soon be thoroughly Boman. Had this English invasion 
 come two hundred years ago, when our bishops were still 
 
874 
 
 THE BKIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 generally beloved, she might have made a firmer stand 
 against the foe." 
 
 " 'Tis passing strange," observed Ardal, *' that she should 
 be so lightly won. For the pretensions of the Eoman Church 
 were of yore associated with Saxon triumphs ; but the native 
 Britons have been so constantly defeated and driven back on 
 their mountain strongholds, that men have at length got a 
 superstitious feeling as if victory must remain with those who 
 obey orders from Eome. It is quite possible that we are being 
 punished for our national sins ; yet will I never allow that it 
 is for the one of schism," 
 
 " And Irishmen cannot perceive the issues at stake," 
 said Olrud. " They have ever been content to seek for 
 present good, without looking to the future. The prin- 
 ciple of Divine authority being committed to men is most 
 dangerous. For hath it not been already misused, even in 
 the very gift of ourselves to the foreigner ? This new system 
 openeth out to the clergy prospects of wealth and power, and 
 it suiteth those of our chieftains whose pride could hardly be 
 brought to bend before the ministrations of humble bishops 
 like ourselves. There is also a hankering in human nature 
 for some visible sign of acceptance from heaven. This the 
 Roman Church has abundant means of satisfying." 
 
 They had now fairly rounded the island, and were pro- 
 ceeding rapidly down the full channel. 
 
 " It may be that we belong to a forlorn hope," said Ardal; 
 "but this remnant of the Celtic Church must not die without 
 a struggle. We have too often forgotten our first love ; yet is 
 our faith purer by far than the one which threatens to take 
 its place." 
 
 " The water ripples loudly," remarked Sorcha. " Doth the 
 darkness make sounds more vivid ? " 
 
 " Perchance it doth," replied Graiune\ " I am wretchedly 
 cold." 
 
 M6r shivered. 
 
THE BRIDES OP ARDMOKE. 375 
 
 "Put your fair hands to the oars," suggested Ardal. 
 " You will make less progress, but we shall pull all the more 
 strongly afterwards." 
 
 " And we are now fairly in the Barrow," said Olrud. " We 
 are going up stream." 
 
 Grainne 1 and Sorcha changed places with their husbands. 
 The boat in their hands made slow progress. 
 
 " I would that you had brought four oars," said Mor. 
 
 " It would have made but little difference," replied Ardal. 
 " We are now far on our way ; and, as we must needs hide in 
 a thicket during daylight, we may as well arrive at our land- 
 ing place an hour later.'' 
 
 " I never heard a boat ripple like this one," observed Mor. 
 "Every sound that it makes seems to be repeated in the 
 distance." 
 
 " You have told us little of the foreigner's doings," said 
 Grainne. 
 
 " The first changes which he hath made," replied Olrud, 
 " have been in Church matters. The English king, with 
 hands stained in the blood of his own archbishop, summoned 
 a Synod to Cashel. Christian of Lismore presided over it, 
 and it regulated the payment of tithes, besides ordaining that 
 all offices of Divine service should be performed according to 
 the ritual of the Church of England. * It hath also decreed 
 that prayers be 'offered for the dead." 
 
 " There is much in the very solemnity of these services to 
 deaden men's consciences,'' said Ardal. " For when they 
 perchance hear some great man spoken of as if his benefac- 
 tions to the Church would shorten his period of probation in 
 another world, they are not discouraged from imitating his 
 vices." 
 
 " 'Tis getting very cold," said Grainne. " The moonlight 
 waseth faint, and the clouds are black." 
 
 Some drops now fell heavily. 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
376 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOEE. 
 
 "Let us take; the oars," said Ardal. "A storm cometh. 
 In a few hours we shall be in safety." 
 
 Sorcha seated herself again in the stern. Her cheek was 
 flushed, her brown eyes, glowing with happiness. 
 
 " I know not how it is," she said, " but I feel more joy this 
 day than even. in. the hour when I became a spouse." 
 
 " But not more than on the day of our wedding ? " asked 
 Ardal, gazing proudly and fondly at her. 
 
 " Thou knowest how that day was marred," replied Sorcha, 
 more gravely. " But danger hath its own delight when it is 
 shared with thee !" 
 
 " And I confess very candidly," said Graimii, bestowing on 
 her husband a look of deep affection, " that the joy of our 
 marriage-day was,nothing to this." 
 
 " Would that thou couldst experience the like ! " ex- 
 claimed Ardal,, glancing, at M6r. " But Ere is better 
 where he is. This journey is not for him.'' 
 
 The young mother shook her head. "Nay," she replied. 
 " It is not only because I may not see him that I grieve ; it 
 is because I know that he will be taught to think of me as of 
 a reprobate. Not- only so, but he may become a priest. His 
 life may be spent in teaching error." 
 
 " Leave him. in God's hands," said Sorcha. " Our sojourn 
 in the convent hath taught theB that errors do not always 
 prevent the presence of saving faith. I cannot believe that 
 men will be condemned, on account of their opinions, unless 
 these are the result of wilful blindness." 
 
 " Yea, verily," replied Ardal. " Therein methinks the 
 creed of the Romans is much too harsh. The only theology 
 which our forefathers knew was that of the Apostle PauL 
 Now, the man is esteemed worthy of most praise who shall 
 state in precise terms the exact relationship subsisting be- 
 tween the Persons of the glorious Trinity, and bring down to 
 the level of created minds mysteries which are hid from the 
 inhabitants of heaven.'' 
 
THE BBIDES OF AEDMOEE. 377 
 
 A whizzing sound now fell on their ears. The air become 
 alive with it. 
 
 " The foe is upon us," exclaimed Olrud, writhing with 
 pain : an arrow had transfixed his arm. 
 
 The frail craft swerved suddenly from the movements of 
 the terrified creatures within it. The water was nearly up 
 to their knees. 
 
 " It is over ! " exclaimed Ardal, as Sorcha threw herself 
 on his breast. Another moment and they were struggling in 
 the water. 
 
 M6r, ere her eyes closed for ever,, caught sight of two boats 
 and of men in them. Only one face could she discern in the 
 red glow of a lamp which had now been, uncovered. There 
 was a look of apprehension mingled with triumph in its blue 
 eyes. 
 
 Some hands, were stretched out to seise her. " Not that 
 woman ! " exclaimed Fergus. " Save, save the other ! " 
 
 But Sorcha had already sunk. Clinging to Ardal, she had 
 been unable to swim. Together they had entered into that 
 joy whose first faint foreshadowings- had. been, so inexpressibly 
 sweet. 
 
 Olrud alone, after a fruitless attempt to save Grainne, and 
 favoured by the discussion betwixt his pursuers, struck out 
 for the shore. As he landed he caught sight of something in 
 the middle of the river, borne rapidly along by the current. 
 It was a woman's face, exquisitely beautiful in its last sleep, 
 surrounded by a wealth of blonde hair, and wearing an ex- 
 pression of affectionate tenderness. The remembrance of it 
 imparted a gentler tone to his voice for the remainder of his 
 life. 
 
 Alas ! they had not known how well the water would carry 
 the sound of their conversation. Every word as they uttered 
 it had been distinctly heard by the occupants of a small 
 flotilla following it at a short distance. 
 
 But few hours had elapsed ere the absence of the prisoners 
 
878 
 
 THE BEIDES OP AEDMOKE. 
 
 was discovered in the tower. Fitz-David at once fell in with 
 Fergus' suggestion that their flight was probably for the 
 second time being attempted by water. The chase was 
 speedily urged forward, all engaged in it being nerved to 
 unwonted effort by the hope of earning distinction through 
 the capture of the rebel ringleaders. The pursuing boats 
 had been carried on men's shoulders along the short and 
 shallow channel to the north of the island, and had thus been 
 enabled speedily to overtake the fugitives. 
 
 Olrud carried the news of his companion's fate to the 
 Scattery Isles. There he, Maidoc, and Ita dwelt for many 
 years, carrying on their ministrations amongst the moun- 
 tains of Connaught. As they kept aloof from politics, they 
 were too obscure to attract notice from the invader. 
 
 Ere, as well as Grainne's four boys, became priests. 
 Amada's family, therefore, soon died out. It was a pity, 
 for they were a fine stock. 
 
 And a cloud settled over the green island, such a cloud as 
 Egypt knew not in the days of Moses. So thick and heavy 
 hath become the mental vision of those born under it, that 
 in the very spots where Columba and his contemporaries had 
 their spiritual senses quickened to see every oak-leaf crowded 
 full with heaven's angels, the natives, forgetting their own 
 ancient and beautiful melodies, have now no music save of an 
 earthly kind wherewith to entertain the passing stranger, 
 treating verily of no higher theme than of their love for the 
 little " cruiskeen lawn." 
 
 And no longer is wisdom the one commodity which Irish- 
 men have to offer in the markets of Europe.* 
 
 The glory of Ardmore is gone for ever. Yet do men say 
 that the sweet tones of its silver bell may yet be heard, 
 sounding forth a wail from the depths of the rivulet which 
 floweth at the base of its tower. 
 
 * Appendix. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 1. ''It was by him (Patrick) that bishops, priests, and persons of 
 every dignity were ordained ; seven hundred bishops, and three 
 hundred priests was their number." — Annals of Four Masters, a.d. 
 493. 
 
 Nennius, who lived in the ninth century, says, " Sanctus Patricius 
 . . . ordinavit episcopos tricentos sexaginta quinque aut eo amplius 
 in quibus Spiritus Dei erat." 
 
 It is evident that such bishops could not have ruled over dioceses, 
 and it is therefore probable that in Ireland, as in Brittany, the title 
 was given to every ordained pastor. 
 
 St. Bernard mentions this fact in his Life of Malachy O'Morgair, 
 first Boman Catholic Abbot of Armagh. He says : 
 
 "Num (quod inauditum est ab ipso Christianitatis initio) sine 
 ordine, sine ratione mutabantur et multiplicabantur episcopi, pro 
 libiter metropolitan! ; ita ut unus episcopatus uno non esset contentus, 
 sed singulae pene ecclesiae singulos habent episcopos." — Vita S. 
 Malachiae, caput x. Migne clxxxii. 
 
 That this was so in still earlier times is established by PhiL i. 1., 
 as well as by the oft-quoted testimony of Jerome : 
 
 " Sed nostram esse sententiam, episcopum et presbyterum unum 
 esse, et aliud aetatis, aliud esse nomen officii. . . . Sed quia eosdem 
 episcopos illo tempore quos et presbyteros appellabant, propterea 
 de episcopis quasi de presbyteris est locutus." — Commentary on 
 Titus. 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 1. Who preferred to live in holy wedlock (page 2). — For the non- 
 existence of celibacy in Culdee monasteries we have the confession of 
 
880 THE' BBIDES OF AEDMOEE. 
 
 a Eoman Catholic writer, Ozanam. Whilst contending for the 
 theory of the "Western Church having heen always submissive to 
 the Holy See, he says : 
 
 "Un seul point reste acquis a nos adversaires, cest que l'Eglise 
 Bomaine tolera quelque temps ohez les Bretons et les Irlandais 
 l'ordination des hommes maries, comme elle la tolere encore chez 
 les catholiques des rites orientaux." — La Predication des Irlandais 
 Note. 
 
 In a synod held in Ireland a.d„ 45ft, there is the following re- 
 markable canon: 
 
 " Quicunque clericus ab hostiario usque ad sacerdotem sine tunica 
 visus fuit k . . et uxor ejus si non velato capita ambulaverit, 
 pariter a laicis contemnentur, et ab ecclesia separentur." — Wilkins' 
 Concilia, vol. i. p. 2 ; Synodus Patricii Auxilii et Isseri/ni. 
 
 The Senchus M6r, or great Book of Irish laws, compiled in the 
 fifth century, makes a special mention of married priests. 
 
 The Northumbrian priests had a law : 
 
 " Si presbyter ' c wenan ' (' wife,' Johnson* original of queen) deserat 
 et aliam accipiat, anathema sit." — Wilkins' Concilia, vol.. i. p. 219, 
 can. 35. 
 
 We have, moreover, the testimony of the Bomanist prelate 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, who visited Ireland about the time of the 
 conquest : 
 
 " Verumtamen viri qui ecclesiastica gaudent immumtate, et quos 
 viros ecclesiasticos vocant, quanquam laici et uxorati, eomis. quoque 
 perlongis trans humerum diffusis, solum armis renuntiantes, in 
 signum protectionis pontificale impositione amplas in capite coronas 
 habent." — Top. Eib. dis. iii. cap. xxvi. 
 
 He thus speaks of their character : 
 
 " Est autem terrae istius elerus satis religjone eommendabilis." 
 — Cap. xxvii. 
 
 2. It was still independent of foreign control (page 6.) — Pope 
 Alex. III., in a letter addressed to Henry II. dated September, 1172, 
 speaks of the Holy See's relation to Ireland in these terms, " ubi 
 nullum jus habet." 
 
 That the ecclesiastics of England had no inter-communion with 
 those of Ireland previous to the conquest, we learn from Giraldus 
 Cambrensis. Writing to Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury, he says : 
 
APPENDIX. 381 
 
 " Item et juxta apostoli doetrina nemini cito manum imponat. 
 . . . Et sic episooporum Walliae, Hiberniae, et Scotiae, qui re- 
 probatos in Anglia et pro indignis habitos et ubique reousatos, 
 passim et absque delectu,non autem absque delicto, cunctos ordinare 
 praesumunt, opprobrium vitet." — De Jure et Statu, dist. xii, 
 
 Giraldus was born a.d. 1147. Died a.d. 1220. 
 
 His words are in keeping with the decree of the Council of Celcyth 
 a.d. 816. 
 
 Cap. v. " Quinto interdictum est : ut nullus permittatur de genere 
 Scotorum in alicujus diocesi sacrum sibi ministerium usurpare, 
 neque ei consentire liceat ex sacro ordine aliquod attingere, vel ab 
 eis accipere in baptismo aut in celebratione missarum, vel etiam 
 eucharistiam populo praebere, quia incertum est nobis, unde, et an 
 ab aliquo ordinentur. Scimus quomodo in canonibus praecipitur, 
 ut nullus episcoporum (vel) presbyterorum invadere tentaverit ahus 
 parochiam, nisi cum consensu proprii episcopi. Tanto magis res- 
 puendum est ab alienis nationibus sacra ministeria percipere, cum 
 quibus nullus ordo metropolitanis, nee honor .aliquis habeatur." 
 — Wilkins' Concilia, voL i. p. 170. 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 1. Page 11., Four Masters, a.d. 1151. 
 
 2. The Celtic Churchnot having yet discovered that vows of per- 
 petual celibacy were pleasing to the Creator (page 20). — There were 
 doubtless monastic institutions in Ireland from the days of Patrick 
 and Bridget ; yet the constitution of these must have differed con- 
 siderably from the continental models. The Senchus M6r has a 
 special decree for "a young nun who has not renounced her veil." 
 
 St. Bernard also, writing to Malachy O'Morgair, says : 
 " Et quoniam multa adhuc opus est vigilantia, tanquam in loco 
 novo, et in terra tarn insueta, imoetinesperta monasticae religionis, 
 obsecramus in Domino, ne retrahatis manum vestram, sed quod 
 bene inccepistis, optime perficiatis." — Migne clxxxii., epistola 357. 
 
 Chapter V, 
 
 A heritage which his family had enjoyed for fifteen genera- 
 tions (page 43). — A full account of the succession to the abbacy of 
 Armagh will be found in King's Memoir Introductory to the Early 
 
882 THE BEIDES OP APDMOEE. 
 
 History of the Primacy of Armagh. The state of affairs there 
 roused St. Bernard's indignation. He informs us in his Life of St. 
 Malachy : 
 
 " Contigit infirmari archiepiscopum Celsum, et ipse est qui 
 Malachiam in diaconem, presbyterum, episcopumque ordinavit, et 
 cognoseens quia moreretur, fecit quasi testamentum, quatenus 
 Malachias deberet succedere sibi .... Verum mos pessimus in- 
 oleverat quorumdam diabolica ambitione potentum sedem sanctum 
 obtentum iri haereditaria successione. Nee enim patiebantur episco- 
 pari; nisi qui essent de tribu et familia sua. Nee parum processerat 
 exsecranda successio, decursis jam in hac malitia quasi generation- 
 ibus quindecim. Denique jam veto extiterant ante Celsum, viri 
 uxorati, et absque ordinibus, literati tamen." — Vita 8. Malachiae, 
 S. Bernardi Ahbatis Clwrae Vallensis, caput x. Migne clxxxii. 
 
 By "absque ordinibus," St. Bernard probably meant without con- 
 secration from his Church. We are surprised, however, to find that 
 Malachy, though a Boman Catholic bishop, should have been 
 ordained by Celsus, a married man. The wife of Celsus appeared 
 to Malachy in a vision. For, says St. Barnard, Vita. cap. x. : 
 
 " Nempe jam acgrotante Celso, apparuit Malachiae .... mulier 
 procerae staturae et reverendi vultus. Percontati quaenam esset, 
 responsum est esse uxorem Celsi." 
 
 That the Irish did not relish Malachy's installation is evident 
 from the bloodshed to which it gave rise. 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 
 1. And had not Palladius come ? (Page 59.) 
 
 " Palladius was sent by Pope Celestine, with a gospel for Patrick 
 to preach to the Irish." — Leabhar Brae. 
 
 This statement is confirmed by Saint Prosper of Aquitaine, who 
 lived from a.d. 387 till a.d. 455. He says : 
 
 " Ad Scotos in Christum credentes ordinatus a Papa Caelestino 
 Palladius primus Episcopus mittitur." — Chronicon, a.d. 431. 
 
 Dr. Killen has shown, by a comparison of dates, that Patrick 
 had been about a quarter of a century in Ireland before the arrival 
 of Palladius. The subject is so important that I make no apology 
 for quoting bis words : 
 
 " Marcus, an Irish bishop who flourished in the beginning of the 
 
APPENDIX. 888 
 
 ninth century, informs us that Patrick came to Ireland a.d. 405 ; 
 and Nennius, a Briton who lived about the same period, repeats 
 this statement. Other circumstances lead us to infer that this is 
 the true date of the commencement of his mission. According to 
 the test authorities, he was born about a.d. 378 ; and a late most 
 acute and learned Eoman Catholic historian (Dr. Lanigan) has 
 adduced good evidence to prove that he died a.d. 465." 
 
 " Traditions of the highest antiquity attest that he spent sixty 
 years in Ireland (as the Hymn of Fiech)." — Old Catholic Church, 
 p. 311. 
 
 St. Patrick is said to have died on a Wednesday, the 17th of 
 March. 
 
 Lanigan, after assigning other arguments, says : " I find it 
 clearly laid down in a copy of the Annals of Inisfallen. This copy 
 assigns the death of St. Patrick to the 432nd year after the passion 
 of our Lord — a date which exactly corresponds to a.d. 465. And 
 the 17th of March fell in that year on a Wednesday." — Ecclesias- 
 tical History, vol. i. p. 362. 
 
 " Benignus, Patrick's successor in the see of Armagh, died a.d. 
 468." — Ecclesiastical History, vol. i. p. 357. 
 
 Pope Celestine died on the 6th of April, a.d. 432, before he could 
 have heard of the non-success of Palladius's mission. It is there- 
 fore impossible for us to give credit to the statement that he after- 
 wards sent, Patrick to Ireland. 
 
 Palladius, disappointed with his reception in Ireland, sailed to 
 Scotland. We have notices of his doings there in Fordun'B 
 Chronicle. He seems there to have met with Christians who, 
 though more amenable to his teachings, were yet of the same type 
 as those of Ireland. For, says John of Fordun : 
 
 " Anno Domini ccccxxx. papa Celestinus primum episcopum in 
 Scocia misit sanctum Palladium, de quo Scotis convenit, quia suam, 
 id est, Scotorum gentem longe quamvis in Christum ante creden- 
 tem, fidem orthodoxam verbo sollicite perdocuit, et exemplo festa 
 simtd et memorias ecclesiasticas diligenter celebrare. Ante cujus 
 adventum habebant Scoti fidei doctores, ac sacramentorum niinis- 
 tratores, presbiteros solum modo vel monachos, ritum sequentes 
 ecclesiae primitivae." The MS. in Trin. Coll., Camb., omits " vel 
 monachos " — magna cleri. — Scoto-chronicon Liber Tertius, cap. 
 viii. (Skene's Edition.) 
 
884 
 
 THE BRIDES OF AKDMOKE. 
 
 2. By the overpowering influence of the 'Saxon Queen Margaret. 
 (page 60). — The wife of Malcolm Canmore, sister of Edgar Atheling, 
 did much, in her zeal for religion, to establish the power of the 
 Boman See in Scotland. It is a significant fact that no Episcopal 
 See in Scotland can date its foundation earlier than the twelfth 
 century, nor was any at first occupied by a native Scot. That the 
 Christians, previous to this time, followed other usages than that of 
 Borne, we may gather from more than one ancient chronicle. Thus 
 Turgot, in his Life of Queen Margaret, says : 
 
 " Cum enim contra rectae fidei regulam et sanctam universalis 
 ecclesiae consuetudinem, multa in gente ilia fieri perspexisset, 
 crebra Concilia statuit." — Pinkerton, Vitae Antiguae Sanctorum, 
 p. 339. 
 
 " Praeterea in aliquibus locis Scottorum quidam fuerant, qui 
 contra totius Ecclesiae consuetudinem, nescio quo ritu barbaro, 
 Missas celebrare consueverant." — Idem, p. 341. The word 
 " Missa" was originally applied to any religious service. 
 
 " Multo quoque alia, quae contra fidei regulam et ecclesiasticarum 
 olservationum inBtituta inoleverant, ipsa in eodem Concilio dam- 
 nare, et de Begni sui finibus curavit proturbare." 
 
 The Life of 'Queen Margaret, attributed to St. Adelredus, also 
 says-: 
 
 " 'Cum autem in gente ilia Scotorum, contra universalis Ecclesiae 
 sanctam consuetudinem multa illicita fieri videret, multa adhibuit 
 consiHa."— Pirikerton's Collection, p. 376. 
 
 " Multa quoque alia contra morem Ecclesiae inoleverant, quae in 
 eodem Concilio damnans de regni finibus extirpavit." — Idem, 
 p. 378. 
 
 Jocelin, a monk of Furness, in Lancashire, writing to Jocelin, 
 who was Bishop of Glasgow from a.d. 1174 to a.d. 1179, concerning 
 the Life of St. Kentigern, which he was about to write, says : 
 
 " Circuivi enim per plateas et vicos civitatis, juxta mandatum 
 vestrum, querens vitam Sancti Kentigerni descriptam, quem diligat 
 anima vestra, cujus cathedrae filiorum adoptione. . . Quesivi igitur 
 diligenter, vitam, si forte inveniretur, quem majori auctoritati, et 
 evidentiori veritate, sulciri (fulciri?) et stilo certiori videretur 
 exarari, quam ilia, quem vestra frequentat eoclesia ; quia illam, est 
 pluribus videtur, tractata per totum declarat inculta oratio, obnu- 
 bilat stilus incompositus, et quod prae his omnibus sane sapiens 
 
APPENDIX. 385 
 
 magis abhorret, in ipso narrationis frontispitio quoddam sanae 
 doctrinae, et catholicae fld-ei adversum evidentius apparet." 
 
 Kentigern lived about a.d. 580. 
 
 Jocelin about a.d. 1180. 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 
 The University of Lismore (page 62). — " Ireland," says O'Hal- 
 loran, "was now the only country in Europe in which arts and 
 sciences blazed in their full lustre ; it became not only the common 
 asylum of learned men from all parts, but sucb as chose to excel 
 in letters flocked here from distant countries to become the pupils 
 of our regents and doctors." In the Life of Sulgentius the Briton 
 we are told : 
 
 " Exemplo patrum commotus amore legendi 
 Ivit ad Hibernos, sophia mirabile claros." 
 
 The following lines are taken from the Life of St. Cataldus, first 
 Bishop of Tarentum in Italy. They are written by Bonaventura 
 Moronus, a Tarentine born : 
 
 " Undique conveniunt proceres, quos dolce trahebat 
 Discendi studium. . . . 
 
 . . . Celeres vastissima Eheni 
 Jam vada Teutonici, jam deservere Sicambri ; 
 Mittit ab extremo gelidos aquilone Boiemos 
 Albi et Averni coeunt, Batavique frequentes 
 Et quicunque colunt alta sub rupe G-ebenas ; 
 Non omnes prospectat Arar Bhodanique fluenta 
 Helvetios : multos desiderat ultima Thule. 
 Certatim hi properant diverso tramite, ad urbem 
 Lismoriam, juyenis primes ubi transigit annos." 
 
 "When a man of learning in Britain, or on the Continent, was 
 missing, the common adage was, " Amandatus est ad disciplinam 
 in Hibernia." 
 
 Chapter X. 
 
 Confession, was not practised im the ancient Chu/rch of Ire- 
 land (page 93). — For this we have the testimony of St. Bernard : 
 
 26 
 
386 BHIDES OP ABDMORE. 
 
 " Deinde usum saluberrimum Confessionis, sacramentum.Confirma- 
 tionia . . . quae omnia aut ignorabant, aut negligebant, Malachias 
 do novo instituat." — Vita 8. Malachiae, cap. iii. Migne, clxxxii. 
 
 He thus describes the Irish : 
 
 " Cristiani nomine, re pagani. Non decimus, non primitias dare, 
 nonlegitima more (Bpmano ?), inire conjugia ; non facere confes- 
 siones ; poenitentias nee qui peteret; nee qui daret, penitus 
 invenire." — Idem, cap. viii. 
 
 • . ■. r 
 Chapter XI. 
 
 The Book of Armagh (page 107). — For a 'description of this 
 singular compilation, and of the influence which it exercised . on 
 the Irish Church, we would refer the reader to the pages of Dr. 
 Killen, Ecclesiastical History, vol. i. p. 115. 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 
 1. The decree of King Nectan (page 121). — This fact is recorded 
 in the Annals of Ulster. It occurred in a.d. 716. In the same year 
 the priest Egbert went from Northumbria to'Iona'and persuaded 
 some of the monks to submit to Boman usages. As, however, " the 
 family " are said to have been banished, we may infer that the 
 majority were thus punished for their adherence to the traditions 
 they had received from Cblumba. 
 
 2. A sovereign, himself the descendant of pious bis%ops (page 
 121). — Malcolm Canmore, whose first name' signifies servant of 
 Colmkill, or Columba, was the son of the Duncan killed by Mac- 
 beth. Duncan's father was Cronan, Abbot of Durikeld, who had for 
 wife the daughter of Malcolm II. (Burton's History of Scotland.) 
 
 3. In England the disastrous change has gone further (page 122). 
 — Some writers assert that the only differences between the Boman 
 Catholic Church, as represented by Augustine, and that of the Scoto- 
 Britons, as represented by Dinooth and Aidan, were thoBe of foe 
 tonsure and the time of keeping Easter. Enough, however, may be 
 gathered from the pages of Bede to show how superficial is this 
 view. For he states : 
 
 "Et aUa plurima unitati ecclesiasticae contraria faciebant." 
 — Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. cap. 2. 
 
 Dicebat autem" (Augustine to the monks of Bangor), "eis, 
 
APPENDIX. 387 
 
 Quia in multis quidem nostrae consuetudini imo universalis 
 ecclesiae, contraria geritis." — Idem. 
 
 a.d. 661. " Defiincto autem Finano, qui post ilium (.SUdanum) 
 fuit, cum Colmanus in episcopatum succederet, et ipse missus a 
 Scottia, gravior de observatione pasohae, et de aliis ecclesiasticae 
 vitae disciplinis controversia nata est." 
 
 a.d. 664. " Veherat eo tempore Agilberctus, etc. ad provineiam 
 Nordanhymbraram. . . . Mota ergo ibi quaestione de paseba, vel 
 tonsura, vel aliis rebus eoclesiasticis," etc. 
 
 The root of the question was evidently the supremacy of the 
 Eoman bishop. Had the Britons admitted this, they could not 
 have held out so long on the question of Easter. Bede relates that 
 Augustine experienced a determined opposition : 
 
 " Longa disputatione habitu, neque precibus, neque hortamentis, 
 neque increpationibus Augustini ac sociorum ejus assensum praebere 
 voluissent, sed suas potius traditiones universis, quae per orbem 
 sibi in Christo concordant; ecclesiis praeferrent." 
 
 "At illi nil horum se facturos, neque ilium pro archiepiscopo 
 habituros esse respondebant." 
 
 Giraldus Oambrensis bears the same testimony : 
 
 " Audiens Augustinus in occidentali insulae parte Christianos 
 esse, accedens ad fines illos, convocatis septem episcopis Britonum, 
 cum de termino Paschali, quern non more ecclesiae Bomanae colere 
 videbantur, et aliis quibusdam corrigendis, diutius disputatum esset. 
 ... Si ergo Augustini renuerunt esse socii, multo minus sibi vel 
 successoribus suis vellent esse subjecti." — De Invectionibus, lib. ii. 
 cap. 1. 
 
 We have also the reply of Dinooth, Abbot of Bangor, to 
 Augustine : 
 
 " Be it known without doubt unto you, that we all are and every 
 one of us obedient and subject to the Church of God, and to the 
 Pope of Borne, and to every true Christian, and godly to love every 
 one in his degree in perfect charity, and to help every one of tbem 
 in word and deed to be the children of God ; and other obedience 
 than this I do not know due to him, whom you name to be Pope, 
 nor to be the father of fathers." — Wilkins' Concilia, vol. i. p. 26. 
 
 4. The married bishops (page 122). — The native clergy of Brittany 
 and of Wales were in the twelfth century heads of families. This 
 grieved the soul of Giraldus Cambrensis. He says : 
 
388 THE BRIDES Or ABDMOBE. 
 
 " Suooessiones in clero, radioatis olimin Armorica Galliae, Britan- 
 nica, necdum eradicatis, similiter scribit iu quadam epistola sua 
 Hildebertus Cenomannensis episcopus, dicens se concilio interfuisse 
 cum clero Britanniae ob has enormitates geutis illius extirpandas 
 convocato. Ex quibus constare potest utrumque vitium toti huic 
 geuti Britannicae tarn transmaiinae scilicet quam cisraarinae, ab 
 antiquo commune fuisse." — Gir. Camb., De Jure et Statu Menevensis 
 Ecclesiae, dis. i. 
 
 " Successio quoque, et post patres, filii ecclesias obtinent, non 
 elective, hereditate possidentes, et polluentes sanctuariura Dei." 
 — Gir. Camb., Descriptio Kambriae, lib. ii. cap. 6. 
 
 5. No Swedish or Danish priest doubted his own right to marry 
 before the Council of Bheims, in a.d. 1120 (page 124). 
 
 These facts are recorded by Munter, Bishop of Zealand, in his 
 Zeitschrift fiir die historische Theologie. 
 
 6. Milan and Florence have seen their altars deserted for want 
 of ministers (page 124). 
 
 This is recorded by Milman. 
 
 7. The rule of our Columbanus, travestied as it hath been (page 
 126). 
 
 Columbanus was an Irish missionary to the continent of Europe, 
 contemporary with Columba of Iona. He was the founder of 
 Luxueil, Bobbio, and other monasteries. 
 
 He instituted a monastic rule which at length came into conflict 
 wjth that of Benedict. This rule is erroneously supposed to have 
 been very harsh. 
 
 But in judging of anything connected with the ancient British 
 Church, we must bear in mind that all notices of it have come 
 down to us through the hands of its enemies ; most of the proofs of 
 its existence being derived from their incidental statements. The 
 argument on behalf of Columbanus' rule is very ably stated by 
 Ebrard. There are, in fact, two versions of it. The first breathes 
 a spirit of Christian mildness and fatherly exhortation ; the second 
 enjoins the application of the scourge ad nauseam. A comparison 
 between the two raises doubts as to whether they are the work of 
 the same hand. 
 
 The manuscripts of this rule, which Ebrard supposes to be 
 genuine, contain only the mild chapters. They are the two oldest 
 ones, those of the cod. St. Gallensis, and cod. Bobiensis ; Bobbio 
 
APPENDIX. 889 
 
 having been founded by Coluinbanus, and St. Gallen by his dis- 
 ciple, Gallus. The spurious ones are those of a Benedictine abbey 
 in Ochsenshausen, and of a Benedictine cloister in Augsburg. 
 
 A Liber Poenitentialis was found at Bobbio with the name of 
 Columbanus attached to it. But a similar one exists at St. Gallen, 
 and professes itself to be the work of " Scti Cumeani Abbatis in 
 Scotia." 
 
 Ebrard supposes that the two spurious rules and the Liber Poeni- 
 tentialis were the work of Benedictine monks, who tried to make 
 them more acceptable to their brethren by prefixing to them the 
 name of Columbanus. Cummean himself was an apostate from the 
 Irish Church to that of Borne. 
 
 Columbanus was the writer of a remarkable letter to Pope Boni- 
 face IV. He fully acknowledged that the Bishop of Borne had a 
 right to take precedence of all other bishops, save him of Jerusalem, 
 for he says : 
 
 "Boma orbis terrarum caput est ecclesiarum, salva loci domi- 
 nicae resurrectionis singulari prerogativa." 
 
 But he was very far from conceding to him infallibility when he 
 wrote: 
 
 " Jam vestra culpa est, si vos deviastis de vera fiducia, et 
 primam fidem irritam fecistis (1 Tim. v. 12), merito vestri juniores 
 vobis resistunt et merito vobis non communicant." 
 
 For the Irish he claimed that, 
 
 " Nos . . . toti Heberi, ultimi habitatores mtindi, nihil extra 
 evangelicam et apostolicam doctrinam recipientis." 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 
 1. The Bishop of Rome hath made a gift of the whole island 
 to the English king (page 131). 
 
 Some writers have tried to throw doubts on the genuineness of 
 Adrian's Bull. It is not in the Bullarium Bomanum, the editors 
 of which, suggests Dr. Lanigan, " were ashamed of it." But it is 
 confirmed in a letter of Pope Alexander III. to King Henry II. in 
 a.d. 1172. And in the Bullarium Bomanum there is a Brief of 
 Pope John XXII. to King Edward II., which refers to it. Pope 
 John says : 
 
 " Quod cum felicis recordations Adrianus praedecessor noster, 
 
390. THE BRIDES OF ARDMORE. 
 
 sub certis niodo et forma distiuctis apertius in apostolicis Uteris inde 
 factis, clarae memoriae Henrico regi Angliae, progenitori tuo, 
 dominium Hiberniae concessisset, ipse rex ae suocessores ipsius, 
 reges Angliae." — Wilkins' Concilia, vol. ii. p. 491. 
 
 "There is no doubt of the authenticity of this document," says 
 the Eoman Catholic historian, Miss Cusack. (Students' Manual of 
 Irish History, p. 170.) 
 
 The text of i]t will be found in Eymer's Faedera, torn. i. 
 
 The object which the Pope had in granting it is clearly enough 
 stated. It was "pro dilatandis Ecclesiae terminis . . . insulam 
 lllam ingrediaris," 
 
 2. Queen Devorgilla (page 140). — Devprgilla, wife of Tiernan 
 O'Rourke, Lord of Breffny, eloped with the infamous DermodMac 
 Murrough, King of Leinster. She was compelled by Turlough 
 O'Connor to return to her family, and Dermod, unable to hold his 
 own against the host of enemies which this deed had raised against 
 him, fled to seek help, from the English king. 
 
 Chapter XIV. 
 
 Nor was there danger, even in that rude age, for a lovely girl 
 (page 141). — This will not seem surprising to those who reflect that 
 in the preaeding century a young lady performed the exploit im- 
 mortalised by Moore in the song beginning " Bich and Bare : " 
 
 " On she went, and her maiden smile 
 
 In safety lighted her round the green isle j 
 And blest for ever was she who relied 
 Upon Erin's honour and Erin's pride." 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 
 The original of this will be found in Ussher's Works ; Religion 
 Professed by the Ancient Irish, chap. x. (page 153). 
 
 Chapter XXI. 
 
 That a simple presbyter should have rule over bishops (page 215). 
 Iona and Durrow set the example in this. So Bede tells us : 
 " Ex quo utroque monasterio (Iona and Durrow) plurima exinde 
 
APPENDIX. 891 
 
 monasteria per discipulos ejus (Columbae) et in Brittania et in 
 Hibernia propagata sunt. Habere autem solet ipsa insula recto- 
 rem semper abbatem presbyternm, cujus jiiri'et omnia prcivincia 'it 
 ipsi etiam episcepi, ordine inusitato, debeant esse subjecti, juxta 
 exemplum primi doctoris illius, qui non episcopus, sed presbyter, 
 exstitit et monachus." 
 
 Chaptek XXIII. 
 
 1. As Sedujius, and Puns Scotus have shown (page *239). — Two 
 distinguished Irishmen bore the name of Sedulius — one, a poet of 
 the fifth century ; the other, supposed to have been Abbot of Klldare 
 in the ninth. Both express views on the Eucharist which are in 
 agreement with those of Calvin. The latter is the author of a com- 
 mentary on St. Paul's epistles, which, if translated into English, 
 might be mistaken for the work of some Low Church divine. We 
 give his explanation of 1 Cor. xi. 24 : 
 
 "Hoc facite in meam commemorationem. Suam memoriam 
 nobis reliquit, quemadmodum si quis peregre profisciens, aliquod 
 pignus ei quern diligit derelinquat, ut quotiescunqne illud viderit, 
 possit ejus beneficia et amicitiam recordari, quoniain ille si perfecte 
 dilexit, .sine ing'enti desiderio et fletu illud non potest videre." 
 — Scoti SeduKi. Migne, ciii. 
 
 2. The fire of Eildare (page 241). — The Druidesses kept a fire 
 perpetually burning at Kildare. Like the unquenchable fire of 
 Athena on the Acropolis of Athens, and that of the Vestal Virgins at 
 Bome, it was supposed to have been' kindled from Heaven. To the 
 Druidesses succeeded Bridget's nuns. Their fire was surrounded 
 by "an osier hedge, which no male person might pass through. The 
 fire was extinguished by Henri, Archbishop of Dublin, early in the 
 thirteenth century. It was re-lighted, and continued to burn until 
 the suppression of monasteries at the Reformation. 
 
 Chapter XXV. 
 
 His queen the Amazon Crusader (page_ 268). — Eleanora, in her 
 . own right Duchess of Aquitaine, was for fifteen years married to 
 Louis VII. of France. Having placed herself at the head of a troop 
 of Amazons, she accompanied her husband in the second crusade. 
 Her foolish conduct in presence of the Saracens brought ruin on 
 
892 
 
 THE BRIDES OP ARDMORE. 
 
 the whole expedition. Divorced on account of her intrigues, she 
 was immediately espoused by Henry II. The reader of her story 
 and of that of Rosamond in Miss Strickland's pages cannot fail to 
 be of opinion that neither she nor Henry were morally free to 
 unite in wedlock. The strangest part of her story is, however, the 
 fact that some of her children by Henry were married to the 
 children of Louis VII. by his second marriage. Henry, in his 
 eagerness to secure the " great Provencal dower," trampled under- 
 foot some of the holiest of social laws, and was more deserving of 
 papal excommunication than of being entrusted with the task of 
 reclaiming the Irish from their errors. 
 
 Chapter XXVI. 
 
 That the decision of Fothadh-na-Canoine might be rescinded 
 (page 276). — The decree of Fothadh-na-Canoine in A.D. 804, by which 
 Irish ecclesiastics were exempted from taking part in war. (Annals 
 of Four Masters.) 
 
 Chapter XXX. 
 
 Every archbishop and bishop of the Romish persuasion bestowed 
 on him a charter in the form of a letter with^seal attached, 
 confirming the kingdom of Ireland to him and to his heirs for 
 ever (page 314). 
 
 "Et inde recepit ab unoquoque archiepiscopo et episcopo 
 litteras suas in modum cartae extra sigillum pendentes, et confir- 
 mantes ei et haeredibus suum regnum Hiberniae, et testimonium 
 perhibentes ipsos eum et haeredes suos sibi in reges et dominos 
 constituisse in perpetuum." — Benedict ov Peterborough, Gesta 
 Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 26. London, 1867. 
 
 Chapter XXXV. 
 
 1. Besides ordaining that all offices of Divine service should be 
 performed according to the ritual of the Church of England 
 (page 375). 
 
 " Bex . . . to tins cleri Hiberniae concilium apud Cassiliam 
 convocavit. Ubi . . . eoclesiae illius statum ad Anglicanae ecole- 
 siae formam redigere modis omnibus elaborando." A. D. 1172. 
 Gir. Camb., Ex. Hib., lib. i. cap. 34. 
 
APPENDIX. 398 
 
 2. No longer is wisdom, etc. (page 378). — We are indebted to a 
 monk of St. Gall for the following story. " In the days of Charle- 
 magne, when literature was almost forgotten, there came with some 
 British merchants to the shores of France, two Scots of Ireland. 
 They produced no merchandize for sale, but used to cry to the crowds 
 in the market-place : ' If any man wants wisdom, let him come to 
 us, for we have it to sell.' So often did they repeat this cry, that' 
 an account of it came to the ears of King Charles, who, desirous to 
 attain wisdom, had the strangers brought in haBte before him. 
 When he asked the price of their wares, they replied that they 
 asked for nought but accommodation, food, and raiment. Charles 
 was filled with joy, and kept them beside himself." This led to 
 the great monarch opening up communication with other Irish 
 scholars. It is possible that he was encouraged by them in his 
 opposition to the use of images in worship. 
 

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