The leader of the party was bare-headed, his beard streaming in the wind; he flourished a mead-horn in his hand from which he drank repeatedly; at times he rose to his feet on the bare back of his stallion, and played at cup and ball as he rode along--by means of the end of his drinking horn and a handful of pebbles he had dexterously swept from the ground over which he galloped. As he drew nearer the light showed a gruesome object swung on the neck of his horse. “A Druid, a juggling Druid!” cried Cormac, pointing with scorn and horror at the rider. “The sorcerers have been at their vile rites--they have slain their victim and have been divining by his entrails.” The man and woman drew closer into the niche in which they stood--for the wild party, leaping a small creek, swept up the approach and on to the bridge. The great portals swung open. The wind from the horses’ nostrils, the clamour of men and hounds swept by them, and the whole party passed into the outer court. Cormac thought he distinguished the light form of a woman on one of the foremost of the race-horses. “Ethne!” he exclaimed in angry-excitement. “Ethne! She has gathered her horde around her even here!” “Ethne--it was not Ethne!” exclaimed the Saxon. “And even so--because you see the body of a dead man carried on the saddle of a bard, why should you believe he has been the victim of unholy rites--are dead bodies so uncommon in these days? But it was not Ethne, I tell you!” “It was Ethne!” returned Cormac. “Then she has been searching for me,” cried Elgiva, in tones of conviction. “Ah, poor fool, you will believe she loves you,” said Cormac, contemptuously. “As though Ethne loved anything in the world save her lost possessions in Damnonia.” “You are a stone, Cormac. Ethne has told me how harsh and unforgiving you were to her at Druimceta,” said Elgiva. “Now you will not believe, though I tell you again and again, that Ethne loves me.” “If Ethne loves you,” said Cormac, with the same contempt, “then indeed she hath changed, and my opinion may change also.” At that moment admittance was given them to the vestibule of the mansion. Passing through the atrium they were ushered into a large court; with clustered pillars and frescoed walls--otherwise it resembled one of the ordinary halls of the Britons, for it was hung with wicker shields and rude pikes--a fire of yew-logs blazed in the centre. The big room was full of people; thronged with Bret and Pict and Scot--monks and warriors. There were minstrels, harpers, jesters, clowns with them, their accompanying creatures--beagle and hound and dancing bear; everywhere hopped tame wrens and, here and there, spreading their dark wings on the arms of soothsayers were talking ravens. The usual places of honour were being given to workers in gold and silver, to master-carpenters, and to the healers of mankind--the leeches. The room was so full that the entrance of Cormac and Elgiva closely cloaked was unnoticed.