She laughed and folded her arms. “I am a Druidess! Learn that, ye two poor white-livered Christians.” Her glittering eyes glanced from Cormac to Elgiva. The distant chime of the monastery bells came softly to their ears; and closer at hand the chant of Saint Patrick’s hymn, the Feth Fiddha. The June sun shone warm through the chinks in the walls. For a time Cormac was unable to speak. When he did so, his voice was hoarse and uncertain. “It is a foul and horrible faith. Its rites are bloody and repulsive--there is human sacrifice--and the burning to death of men and women and little children! At its best it teaches neither love nor charity.” She spat upon the ground. “So much for your love and charity! I never heard such words till I lived amongst fools and Christians!” “But thou art a Christian, Ethne!” The woman again laughed impatiently. “A Christian! ’Twas a slight thing that--to humour thy fond old father--when in return he gave me gold and lands!” The boy’s eyes drooped proudly. He turned and left the hut, and the old hound slunk after him. Two heavy hands seized Ethne’s shoulders--and the Saxon’s blue eyes flamed into the purple ones. It was the age when primitive passions held sway--and this young girl, reared in the gentle faith of the Christians--now that her anger was roused, was every whit as fierce as Ethne. Ethne seized her knife, but the Saxon wrenched it from her grasp and threw it to the farther end of the hut. “Viper!” cried Elgiva. “Foul woman and false friend! Thou art un-chaste, un-loving! Thou hast stolen his heart, and now seek to defile him in thy Druid rites. He shall not sacrifice, I tell thee, he shall not sacrifice!” Ethne was inarticulate with rage. The two women fought like animals. Ethne tore at the girl with her teeth, but Elgiva prevailed--and at length threw the Celt, bruised and bleeding to the ground. Then she wept. Not from rage or anger; but from fear and the knowledge of her own weakness. For she knew with Cormac she was powerless. CHAPTER V. WHY ETHNE HATES THE CHRISTIANS. Elgiva had spoken the truth when she had said that Ethne had no love for the dead Griffith, because he had not made her his wife. As a child, Ethne had been told she should be one of the wives of the rich and famous chieftain, Griffith Finnfuathairt--King Griffith of Erin he was called, though his kingdom in Hibernia had been long ago cut up and divided; when his father, unable to resist the dangers and excitement of a pirate’s life, had joined in with some Picts and Scots who led a life of adventure on the shores of Britain. After a wildly spent youth, the pirate settled down with his wives and retainers in Damnonia; there he became the owner of a valuable lead-mine in the Mendip Hills and, when he died, his eldest son, Griffith, found he was possessed of enormous wealth and vast lands covering the greater part of Damnonia.