“That is the voice of a man of Erin,” said Nathos, holding in the air a golden knight. “Not so,” answered Darthool; “it is the voice of a Gael of Alba.” Yet well she knew that Nathos had guessed aright, and that even now were the footsteps of fate drawing close. For none can prevail against destiny. Once more a loud cry was heard, and a voice called upon Nathos and the sons of Usna. “Of a surety, that is the voice of a man of Erin,” said Nathos eagerly, for his heart was fain to see an Ultonian again, and to hear of the Red Branch and of the fate of Uladh, and as to whether Concobar reigned still. “Indeed, it is not so,” answered Darthool, and turning the great glory and beauty of her eyes upon Nathos she bade him play on. Then a third cry, nearer and clearer, was heard; and now all knew that it was the voice of a man of Erin. “And if there be no cloud upon me,” said Nathos, “that is the voice of no other than Fergus, the son of Rossa the Red, whom I knew well of old, and for whom my heart is fain. Ardan, do ye go down at once to the haven, and bid Fergus welcome, and all who may be with him. It is a good day this for us, when once more we may hear the voices of the Red Branch.” While Ardan went to the haven, Darthool told Nathos she had known from the first that the newcomer was a man out of Erin, and moreover, that he came from Concobar, and that his coming boded no good. “And how will you be knowing the one and the other, Darthool?” “From a dream that I had: to wit, that three birds flew hither from Emain Macha, and brought with them three sips of rare honey, and then that they left us with that honey but took away instead three sips of our blood.” “Tell me, my queen, what is the reading you put upon that dream?” “That Fergus comes to us with the honey-words of peace, but that behind them lies the shedding of blood, and that blood ours.” Meanwhile Ardan welcomed Fergus, and brought him and his companions to where Nathos sat playing with Darthool upon the ivory and gold chessboard of Concobar the king. As the fair-smiling Ultonian drew near, he smiled a grimmer smile behind his beard, to see Nathos there with the two chiefest treasures of the king’s heart--the woman he wished to make his queen, and the chessboard that had come to him from some great king’s palace in the dim remote Indies of which the poets sang. Great was the rejoicing, and Nathos and his brothers and Darthool embraced Fergus and his sons, and eagerly questioned them for tidings.