"Ay, sure: and now," said the saint, "O Ardan the wise, is my God thy God?" At that Ardan turned his eyes to the west. With his right hand he pointed to the sun that was like a great golden flower. "Truly, He is thy God and my God." Colum was silent. Then he said: "Thee and thine, O Ardan, from Maolmòr the Pictish king to the least of his slaves, shall have a long weariness in Hell. That fiery globe yonder is but the Lamp of the World: and sad is the case of the man who knows not the torch from the torch-bearer." In the second hour they talked of Man. While Ardan spoke, Colum smiled in his deep, grey eyes. "It is for laughter that," he said, when Ardan ceased. "And why will that be, O Colum Cille?" Ardan asked. Then the smile went out of Colum's grey eyes, and he turned and looked about him. He saw 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. Cathal of the Songs sang a hymn of beauty. Ardan rose, and put the wine of guests to his lips, and chanted this rann: 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 Dia-- And I say not, O Dè! But cry _Bea'uil Bêl_! 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, And he hath learned of me: All ye on the morrow shall see A wonder of the wonders. Ardan would say no more after that, though all besought him. Many pondered long that night. Cathal made a song of mystery. Colum brooded through the dark; but before dawn he fell asleep upon the fern that strewed his cell. At dawn, with waking eyes, and weary, he saw his Sleep in a vision. It stood grey and wan beside him. "What art thou, O Spirit?" he said. "I am thy Sleep, Colum." "And is it peace?" "It is peace." "What wouldst thou?"