Then he forgot all, except that when, days after, he awoke, he was in the heart of a deep cave into which the sea surged, carrying with it corpses.

For a week he stayed there, tended by a rough shepherd, living on seaweed and fish, and well-nigh mad with thirst.

At last came a boat; and when that boy woke once more he was in the castle of his noble father, whose face was like the midnight, and whose once yellow hair was as white as the snow." "That is the story," said Ludar.

"I was that boy." "And the murderers," said I, falteringly, for I guessed the answer.
"The murderers, Humphrey," said he, "were of the same race as your worst enemy and mine." This gloomy story cast a cloud over our voyage; until, after long silence, during which we sat and watched the rocky coast of the ill- omened Island, the maiden said: "Sir Ludar, there are older stories of Raughlin than yours.

Listen while I sing you of the wedding of Taise Taobhgheal, which befel there when yonder hill was crowned by a beautiful white city, with houses of glass, and when warriors shone in golden armour." Then she sang a brave martial ballad of a famous battle, which was fought on those coasts for the hand of the beautiful Taise Taobhgheal.
And the clear music of her voice, to which the rowers lent a chorus, helped charm away the sadness of Ludar's tale, and while away the time till, having rounded the island, we hoisted our brown sail and flew upon the waves past the great organ-shaped cliffs of the mainland.
The sun had long set behind the western foreland ere we caught ahead of us the roar of the surf on the bar which lay across the river's mouth.
Our rowers had passed that way many a time before, and plunged us headlong into the mighty battle of the waters where river and sea met.
For a short minute it seemed as if no boat could live in such a whirl; but, before we well knew the danger, we were in calm water within the bar, sailing gaily down the broad, moonlit river.
Then Ludar and the maiden grew sad at the parting which was to come; and I, being weary of the helm, left them and went forward.
Beautiful the river was in the moonlight, with the woods crowding down to its margin, broken now and again by rugged knolls or smooth shining meadows.