Cormac could see that the girl looked on the serpents with horror. The snake-charmer thrust his hands, out-spread, towards her and contemptuously cracked every finger-joint in her face. With a brutal movement he came a step nearer, so that the vipers thrust their tongues almost in her face--and then, with a dexterous movement slipped one of the serpents from his arm to hers. The girl had stood her ground bravely and uttered no sound; but at this outrage she sprang backward and came with some force against Cormac, who threw one arm around her; and, with the other, cast the serpent in the charmer’s face. “Fool and meddler!” cried the snake-charmer, angrily. “Leave my business alone. You shall pay for this!” He recovered the viper; and folding it together with its fellows, slipped them into his breast. There was an angry glitter in his eye, and he withdrew from the spot, muttering ominously. Cormac feared for the girl’s safety. He looked around for some place of safety for her--there was none. All that could be done was to draw her into the shadow of the felled trees. He turned towards her, and for the first time saw her face. It was Elgiva, the Saxon! They stood gazing at each other. They must have remained in this position for some moments when they were startled by screams of wrath--that which Cormac had dreaded now happened. An angry mob, headed by the snake-charmer, surrounded them--a murderous, screaming crowd which grew larger every moment; serfs drew their whittles and joined in--stragglers and rude horse-boys, armed with clubs and yew-staves, came at the call. “A woman--a woman!” The angry cry spread like lightning “a woman--a woman in the Men’s Airecht! Deliver her to justice!” Cormac planted himself in front of his companion; he had thrown his cloak around her, to hide her dress. Now he forced her into the leaves and twigs of the fallen tree. “Ay, and a Saxon woman, too!” screamed the snake-charmer, “a Saxon, a Saxon!” There was a further howl of wrath from the crowd; and Cormac’s body would have been hewn down instantly, but that the slaying of a man at a Fair meant not only death, but a curse after death on the spirit of the slayer. Cormac was parrying blow after blow; men were climbing towards the woman along the trunk of the hewn tree, and some were trying to set on fire the dried leaves and twigs. “A Saxon! a Saxon!” they yelled. “If a man do but enter the airecht of the women he must die--let her die also! Let her die the death!” Their enemies pressed closer upon them--still kept at bay by Cormac’s sword. Some of the wildest in the mob took up stones and began to stone them. Cormac and the girl retreated more and more under the thick foliage. Suddenly their retreat was cut off--they touched upon a great rock against which the felled trees had been massed. For a minute they were left in peace. Then Cormac saw a flame of fire run along a withered branch towards them. A stone struck him on the shoulder.