"And why will that be, O Colum of Eiré?" said Ardan. Then the smile went out of Colum's gray eyes, and he turned and looked about him. He beheld, near, a crow, a horse, and a hound. "These are thy brethren," he said scornfully. But Ardan answered quietly, "Even so." The third hour they talked about the beasts of the earth and the fowls of the air. At the last Ardan said: "The ancient wisdom hath it that these are the souls of men and women, that have been, or are to be." Whereat Colum answered: "The new wisdom, that is old as eternity, declareth that God created all things in love. Therefore are we at one, O Ardan, though we sail to the Isle of Truth from the West and the East. Let there be peace between us." "Peace," said Ardan. That eve, Ardan of the Picts sat with the monks of Iona. Colum blessed him and said a saying. Oran of the Songs sang a hymn of beauty. Ardan rose, and put the wine of guests to his lips, and chanted this rune: O Colum and monks of Christ, It is peace we are having this night: Sure, peace is a good thing, And I am glad with the gladness. We worship one God, Though ye call him Dè-- And I say not, _O Dia!_ But cry _Bea'uil!_ For it is one faith for man, And one for the living world, And no man is wiser than another-- And none knoweth much. None knoweth a better thing than this: The Sword, Love, Song, Honour, Sleep. None knoweth a surer thing than this: Birth, Sorrow, Pain, Weariness, Death. Sure, peace is a good thing; Let us be glad of Peace: We are not men of the Sword, But of the Rune and the Wisdom. I have learned a truth of Colum, He hath learned of me: All ye on the morrow shall see A wonder of the wonders. The thought is on you, that the Cross Is known only of you: Lo, I tell you the birds know it That are marked with the Sorrow. Listen to the Birds of Sorrow, They shall tell you a great Joy: It is Peace you will be having, With the Birds. No more would Ardan say after that, though all besought him. Many pondered long that night. Oran made a song of mystery. Colum brooded through the dark; but before dawn he slept upon the fern that strewed his cell. At dawn, with waking eyes, and weary, he saw his Sleep in a vision. It stood gray and wan beside him. "What art thou, O Spirit?" he said. "I am thy Sleep, Colum." "And is it peace?" "It is peace." "What wouldest thou?" "I have wisdom. Thy heart and thy brain were closed. I could not give you what I brought. I brought wisdom." "Give it." "Behold!" And Colum, sitting upon the strewed fern that was his bed, rubbed his eyes that were heavy with weariness and fasting and long prayer. He could not see his Sleep now. It was gone, as smoke that is licked up by the wind.