Sure it was all the same to the loonatics. Indade, it seemed an improvement. For, no sooner did a daft wan catch the twinkle in Keth’s eye than the twisted brains of him were all straightened out an’ he passed on rejoicin’. As the last of the crazy wans were droppin’ their troubles on Wurra-Wurra, Keth saw that Patrick an’ his followers had rached the bottom of the valley, where the blissed saint that was to be, surrounded by his bishops and his priests and his psalmists, all in their vestmints, was prachin’ the Gospil an’ making converts of iverybody. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] All the while Keth grew bolder with his smile an’ the twinkle in his eye. Whin it came to the turn of the old dames with their cow-yard troubles, siveral times he forgot himsilf so far as to smile aloud. Indade, more than wan full-stomached guffaw did he give in the face of thim, an’ got away with it, so rayjoiced they were with the lightness of heart that Wurra-Wurra gave thim. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] Whin it came to the sorrowin’ maids with their sad tales on their swatehearts, beyond a wink or two at the prettiest Keth was moved to restrain himsilf. For sure, many were the pitiful tales of loving maids’ troubles they poured in his ear! Tales they were that made his heart sore, an’ disturbed his mind with recollictions of strange words lately dropped by Finola of the White Shoulder. ’Twas this new light on those same words that now caused Keth Mac Maragh to forget for a momint the smile of Wurra-Wurra, an’ to close his eyes with the pain of the thought that came to him. [Illustration] [Illustration: _Keth, in the shattered idol’s place, hears Finola’s great worry_] * * * * * An’ whin Keth opened his eyes the last of the maids was prostrated before him—an’ she was Finola! Quickly—though his soul quaked—he raycalled the smile of Wurra-Wurra to his face. ’Twas none too soon, for Finola, risen to her feet an’ leanin’ over, was pourin’ into the idol’s ear all the grafe an’ dread that clutched her heart. From Finola’s lips the tale was like a white-hot iron in Keth’s vitals. Yet it made his heart swell an’ rache out to her so that he could not restrain himsilf, but turned his head an’ put his lips to hers in a kiss that dropped her like wan dead at the idol’s feet. [Illustration] [Illustration] Now Keth Mac Maragh knew what it was for him to do, an’ he rayjoiced to do it quickly. He came out from behind the shattered idol, an’ lifted the limp form of Finola in his arms, an’ bore her swiftly through the press of people up to Patrick himsilf, an’ said: “Good Patrick of Armagh, this maid gave her swate silf to me more suns gone by than it pleases me to raymimber. As thy faithful follower, an’ for the honor of thy household, I pray you now give her to me in the name of our Holy Church an’ in the sight of all min.”