Ardanna laughed a low laugh. "The monk can kiss," she whispered: "can the monk love?" He put his arm about her, and they went into the dim dark greenness. The moon rose slowly, a globe of pale golden fire which spilled unceasingly a yellow flame upon the suspended billows of the forest. Star after star emerged. Deep silence was in the woods, save for the strange, passionate churring of a night-jar, where he leaned low from a pine branch and called to his mate, whose heart throbbed a flight-away amid the dewy shadows. The wind was still. The white rays of the stars wandered over the moveless, over the shadowless and breathless green lawns of the tree-tops. "What is that sound?" said Ardanna, a dim shape in the darkness, where she lay in the arms of Cathal. "I know not," said the youth; for the fevered blood in his veins sang a song against his ears. "Listen!" Cathal listened. He heard nothing. His eyes dreamed again into the silence. "What is that sound?" she whispered against his heart once again. "It is not from the sea, nor is it of the woods." "It is the moan of Heaven," answered Cathal wearily: "_an acain Pharais_." II They found them there in the twilight of the dawn. For long, Ecta looked at them and pondered. Then he glanced at Molios. There were tears in the heart of the holy man, but in his eyes a deep anger. "Bind him," said Ecta. Cathal woke with the thongs. His gaze fell upon Molios. He made no sign, and spake never a word: but he smiled. "What now, O Molios?" asked Ecta. "Take the woman away. Do with her as you will--spare or slay. It matters not. She is but a woman, and she hath wrought evil upon this man. To slay were well." "She is my daughter." "Spare, then, if you will; but take her away. Give her to a man. She shall never see this renegade again." With that, two men led Ardanna away. She gave a glance at Cathal, who smiled. No tears were in her eyes: but a proud fire was there, and she brooked no man's hand upon her, and walked free. When she was gone, Molios spake. "Cathal, that was called Cathal Gille-Muire, why have you done this thing?" "Because I was weary of vain imaginings, and I am young: and Ardanna is fair, and we loved." "Such love is death." "So be it, Molios. Such death is sweet as love." "No ordinary death shalt thou have, blasphemer. Yet even now I would be merciful if I could. Dost thou call upon God?" "I call upon the gods of my fathers." "Fool, they shall not save you." "Nevertheless, I call. I have nought to do with thy three gods, O Christian." "Hast thou no fear of hell?" "I am a warrior, and the son of my father, and of a race of heroes. Why should I fear?" Molios brooded a while. "Take him," he said at last, "and bury him alive where his gods perchance will hear his cries and come and save him! Find me a hollow tree." "There is a great oak near here," said Ecta, wondering, "a great hollow oak whose belly would hold five men, each standing upon the other."